#is that how it cleans itself. just dumps the litter out on the floor in front of it lmfao

[lamortwrites]

What

[thatsatricky1]

𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 | z.cl

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Chenle the sin of Greed x (f) Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: obsession, stalking, mentions of mental health

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Thriller, a bit of angst, no fluff, open ending

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,1k

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝: The Yellow Envelope

The Yellow card practically wanted to be opened, needed to be opened. It was meant for you and no one else. If only one could be opened it would be this one. A little too much golden wax around the seal proved that more was better. Two daisies nearly falling out of the envelope basically showed there were many more inside, all for you. The choice was already made the moment you laid eyes on the thick envelope.

Her hand drifted over to the right fingers dipping underneath the yellow envelope easily and without much thought. The weight was light, but most likely heavier than the others with the fact it was thicker than most that laid out against her desk. She didn’t even turn the envelope around knowing fully well; the back was more than likely empty.

She didn’t have the nails to dig open the envelope, but it wasn’t needed considering the fact the golden waxed seal was overflown around the edges, enough to be used as a tab in itself. The yellow paper slightly tore with it considering the amount of wax that had dripped over it beforehand when freshly pressed.

With a sharp tug the waxed seal was opened, flicking the top of the envelope open, the two daisies from before that had been peaking out fell onto her lap where she sat. The beige paper inside was slightly bigger then the envelope had allowed, the corners slightly bent, though Y/n paid no attention to that detail in favour of pulling out the letter.

Daisies of all sorts of sizes spilling from the letter around her, on her lap, the desk and floor. Flicking the letter open she was met with messy handwriting, one that was familiar but she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Taking her eyes off the words to look at the daisies around her she nearly missed the fact that six letters on the desk were gone, only daisies laid stark contrasted to her mahogany table instead.

She thought to look around but was too tempted in reading the letter first, after all it was the one she picked, she might as well read it and amuse herself before going back to the fact the other letters had quite literally disappeared.

My precious Y/n,

I knew you’d pick my letter, of course you would. I didn’t think for a single second you wouldn’t because you’re just like me. Why not pick the most enticing one? That’s how you are in my eyes, so enticing, basically calling out for me to pick you just like those daisies I picked for this letter. Don’t fret, very soon I’ll have you, you were meant to be in my arms to begin with. You opening my letter just proves that. See you soon Y/n.

yours truly,

“Of course you didn’t sign off with your name.” She hummed out moving to close the letter, stuffing it back into its assigned envelope, before setting it back down on the table.

A few seconds passed by as she stared down at it before deciding to clean up the daisies littered around herself. Placing the ones on her lap on top of the letter and shoving the ones already on the desk closer to the envelope as well.

Getting off the chair she kneeled down below her desk expecting more daisies and even the other six letters she’d assumed had been knocked over in the process of her reading the beige letter.

Though as she went underneath the table her gaze landed on daises, a lot of them. Which was not surprising considering the thickness of the envelope previously but no letters. Raising an eyebrow at that, she peaked her head back upwards to look at her desk just in case they’d reappear, but with no luck she went back below her desk.

“Right, because that’s totally normal.” She muttered to herself moving to clean up the daisies.

Dumping them on top of the table she let out a long sigh, as much as it had been tempting to choose that letter, now in practicality it wasn’t looking as enticing. What was she going to do with all the daisies littering her desk? They’d wilt in a week. Maybe she could make a daisy crown like she’d done as a kid. Then again that was valuable time she could be using for something else like studying or the better choice, sleep.

Glancing at her clock she noted the time, it was only 11pm but she was already over with this day, the constant presence of Halloween today even in her lectures had gotten under her skin, no one had focused, not even her professor. It looked like she was going to have an early night.

She’d look for the missing letters in the morning and also solve the badly done prank as well tomorrow. She had a few people in mind that could have poorly planned this out.

But for now she’d catch up on some much needed rest, her body craving the sweet relief of sleep. She’d recently taken it upon herself to request for more work shifts to her manager, she was well off for now with her bank account sitting at a comfortable number but her body craved more money. More money meant more security for later in life, she’d been taught that and it sat in her mind.

To those who said money didn’t make people happy she could laugh in their faces, because sure money didn’t make people inherently happy with its limited amount of time and affect, but it did keep them fed, clean and with a place to sleep.

After getting changed out of her clothes and into something much more comfortable she slipped under her blankets. It was already late which meant no more trick or treaters arriving at her doorstep demanding candy. Even if they did, she wouldn’t open the door, it wouldn’t be very entertaining to swing the door open and show her empty bowl that had already been raided.

Instead she closed her eyes, sinking further underneath her comforter in an attempt to relax her body, willing it to shut down for the night, ignoring the slight bite of coldness that would soon disappear when her body heat mingled and mixed into her blanket providing her even more warmth that she’d welcome gladly.

It took a decent half hour for her mind to fully lull into a quiet place, no longer filled with the thoughts about how she would start her morning, the lectures scheduled and the unfortunate long late shift she’d be taking. Now, nestled underneath her warm blanket she drifted off to sleep, the one thing that seemed to comfort her most during these past few months.

Before Y/n could enter her first REM cycle of the night, still drifting off to sleep she felt a dip in her bed. Too tired to move her hand out to brush through the soft fur of the dog she’d been tasked to look after for a friend and instead focus on falling asleep.

The white curly haired dog had taken it upon herself of coming unannounced during the night to sleep by her side instead of on her dog bed since day one of looking after the fur ball. At first she hadn’t wanted to accept looking after the dog, but after a long winded conversation she’d agreed to it, not even questioning why the dog needed a personal babysitter for a while.

Though feeling something cold brush against her arm she shifted around slightly away from it.

“Daegal, you may be used to cuddling up with him, but please let me sleep.” She muttered out into the darkness of her room, pitch black from the fact she’d drawn her curtains closed. The street lamps outside are too bright for her taste at night. She assumed the dog had brushed her cold wet nose against her arm from moving around to find a comfortable position, also wanting to sleep like herself.

“Good to know she’s being looked after well enough.”

Those nine words were enough for any ounce of sleep to be ridden from her body in seconds, body automatically tensing as it rose on its own in defence. Only to get one inch above before being forced right back into her mattress.

That cold brush against her arm had not been a dog's nose, but rather the trail of cold fingers, skin most likely having just been outside in the autumn wind. Her body had not been able to sit up because of the fact arms were tightly wrapping around the upper part of her body, her torso with her arms squished against herself.

She wanted to question the intruder out loud, but the words died down inside her throat as he shushed her, cold nose trailing along the side of her jaw. Too close to the side of her face to be able to see his face, but she knew who it was by his voice alone.

Thoughts racing through her mind, one by one toppling over each other. Even if she was to speak out loud, what sentence could possibly be appropriate for the situation she somehow found herself in. Even with the warning she’d received and jumbled thought she wasn’t going to stay quiet. Especially since this was her home.

“This better be some sick and twisted prank you're pulling right now, was it you? The one who sent all those letters?” She’d finally found her voice asking out the question, using a whispered tone not daring to speak any louder.

“Prank? Nothing of the sort. And technically I only sent you one letter. There’s no need to even speak about the other six, they mean nothing now, nothing previously either. You picked my letter, it was the only one you would have ever picked.”

Chenle’s voice rang out through the room, loud against her ear even if his lips were brushing against her neck. He spoke in a normal volume not needing to whisper unlike her. His voice as per usual spoke with confidence and obviousness as if the topic was trivial, as if they were merely discussing the weather.

“How did you do it?” Was all she could question out.

“Do what?” Chenle whispered back his nose nudging against her jaw, by the tone he was using she could tell he was egging her on.

“The letters. How did you place them on my table without me noticing? And how did they just… disappear?” She knew he was toying with her, that was clear enough but she asked anyway. Curiosity was a dangerous thing.

She felt a puff of wind against her neck, no doubt from Chenle as he let out a hum, moving to push his face against the crook of her neck properly. Enjoying the closeness he’d craved so long for, to finally snatch for himself.

“Do you remember that project we had to do? The one recently in our English literature class.” His words came out muffled but he was so close it wasn’t hard to understand what he was saying.

Y/n remembered seeing as it wasn’t long ago. They’d been tasked with choosing any sort of negative theme and run with it. It was such a broad and open task she didn’t know where to start having been used to getting heavily instructed assignments with strong ruling.

At that time she’d felt even more doomed when she was paired up with Chenle for it, since he’d been the least known person in her friend circle, if anything he just appeared in her group of friends one day and hadn’t left. She’d assumed he would have just been one of those friends in passing, but like glue, he stuck.

Chenle had offered to do their project on the Seven deadly sins, an amused smile on his face as if he knew an inside joke to do with it. At that time Y/n had brushed off the suggestion not finding too much interest in it considering the first time she tried looking it up she was directed to mainly religious webpages telling the reader to repent and what not.

Though after being convinced with a free meal at the campus cafe and apparently a lot of knowledge on the topic from Chenle she thought it wouldn’t hurt to do it. Y/n was expecting at most a B grading wise but after the two had finished the project, their professor had personally pulled them aside to tell them about the A they received and a long winded ramble about how their professor felt as if he was reading it from one of the princes of hell himself.

There were a lot of things she had missed in that slot of time, maybe because of how swamped she was with other lectures and work but laying there being held tightly in Chenle’s arms she recounted just how off the situation had been.

From the fact Chenle spoke of the sins, one in particular above the rest. The way for once he’d done most of the project, the way his lips tilted upwards smugly as their professor praised them. How he’d even asked the professor to be given extra credit for ‘being so accurate’, greedy for more praise and feeling as though he was entitled to extra credit.

“Our project on the seven deadly sins?” She asked out, if anything just for him to finally get his point across, to finally tell her what that had to do with the position they were currently in.

“The seven deadly sins… seven princes of hell.” He hummed out gripping her tighter before loosening his grip to move, almost on top of her now, but she didn’t dare move, not an inch with how he stared down at her.

“Out of all seven I wrote more in detail for one in specific.” He clarified, watching her as if waiting for her to finish it off.

“Greed, Beelzebub, the demon embodiment of greed.” She recalled, eyebrows scrunching slightly as she had to think about it to remember properly since she hadn’t partaken in the project much because Chenle had taken the reins on it.

“Oh please that old fashioned name.” Chenle’s eyes rolled hearing his old title. Instead his eyes focused back on the sight below him, he was nearly reeling at the fact he had you laying there.

“There are details in that project you won’t find anywhere, not on some religious webpage or some dodgy satanist homemade webpage. No, only greed himself could know those things.” He pointed out moving a hand to graze past her cheekbone.

“Don’t you remember what our professor said, he felt as though he was reading greed’s own words, quite hilarious to watch considering he was.” Chenle finally revealed after such a painstakingly slow explanation.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Was all she could offer in return for words, staring up at him.

Chenle’s familiar mischievous grin returned, but now she could tell it wasn’t just a playful look. No it was much darker than she’d ever guessed it could be. What she’d assumed was his signature childish look was really a devilish grin that could send people begging at their knees, most likely already had.

“Normally I’d have a snarky reply for that, but when it comes from you I can truly say I might have. I’ve been losing my mind at the fact you were so close, always just inches away yet not mine. It drove me nearly insane, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

He muttered truthfully, finger now trailing down to her jaw, brushing past down her neck feeling just how erratic her pulse was under his finger. So addictive and intoxicating without even having to try.

“You want me to believe that you, Zhong Chenle, the guy who obsesses over Stephen Curry, has the highest pitched laugh and uses way too much oil when cooking is also the one of the seven deadly sins, a literal demon.” Her words meant to bruise his ego, because it was an insane thing he was trying to imply.

And just like her words he let out that familiar high pitched laugh, but it trailed off into a scoff. His sharp eyes staring into her soul through her eyes, leaning in close. Too close.

“You saying sins can’t have hobbies Y/n? I think I played the role of the new university campus student pretty well if I do say so myself.”

“I’m saying if you don’t get out of my home right now, I’ll call the police. You look and sound like you're in a mania, no you are psychotic already, you-” Her words cut off short by Chenle’s finger that had been pressing gently against her neck turning into his hand firmly gripping it instead.

“Sweetheart I may not be Pride, but I don’t particularly like others bruising my ego, something you're testing currently.” His eyes held a warning in them, but the fingers wrapping tighter against her neck was the true warning.

Her eyes flickering downwards at his tight grip before looking up at him, only speaking again when his grip loosened, allowing a more steady flow of breathing.

“What is the purpose of all this Chenle, even if what you’re saying is true. What has that all got to do with me?” She finally asked the question he was waiting for, sure he thought it was obvious enough but he craved to say it with his own lips. Then again he had a knack for playing around.

“You really have to ask? Was my letter not clear enough for you? We both know, you know how to read. Those study books are always in front of that pretty face of yours, hiding it away.” He teased out, lips too close to her own, just a little closer and he could graze his own against hers.

“You are just so… enticing. The moment I saw you I knew you were meant just for me. Even if you weren’t, which you are, rest assured, I would still take you in a heartbeat. I despised the fact I played the long game with you, which apparently didn’t work so I did the next best thing, I decided to just take what was mine.” He was all grins as he explained why he’d done all this tonight.

“And what? What happens when that interest dies out? Y/n questioned out, showing just how absurd it was.

“Baby once I have you, I’m not letting you go. Never.” Chenle spoke slowly, clearly trying to get it across.

Moving his hand away from her neck to hold the back of her head, his hand between her head and the pillow. Not giving her any warning as he moved to crash his lips against hers in a rushed pace greedy for more. A pleased sound coming from deep beneath his chest at finally taking what he’d desired so strongly.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun @bluedbliss @haechansbbg @officiallyjaehyuns @bunnychui @audreybub @sleepyvic @winwintea

(This Taglist is used for all my nct context so if you’d like to be tagged in my nct content please comment or write to me to be added)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: If Chenle is involved, I somehow have to incorporate daegal in there, sorry themsss the rules 🙂‍↕️ sidenote: due to rushed time this is not proofread and will be edited soon.

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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[whatwouldmickeydo]

Minor headcanon: there is a framed copy of Terry Milkovich's death certificate on the wall of apartment 218.

A week after he dies, they receive a small stack of Terry’s death certificates in the mail, intended for providing proof to businesses and other places that might need it.

Mickey snatches one, finds a dusty frame in the back of their closet and puts it in, sticks it on an empty nail by the front door that’s been waiting for a picture. It’s a celebration that this bastard is finally gone, a reminder every day that there’s proof he’s dead and buried, something he can look at and know that he’s no longer there to cast a shadow over their lives.

And it’s exactly that, an excellent memento that he flips off almost every morning before they leave the house.

Ian wakes to the sound of broken glass and a bitten off curse. He walks out to their darkened living room with just the light of the moon streaming in through the window to see the frame on the ground, glass littering the floor, and Mickey clutching a bloody fist, eyes glassy with held back tears.

There’s blood dripping onto the ground and he’s quick to grab a wash cloth and the first aid kit, guiding Mickey gently but firmly onto a chair in the kitchen so he can patch him up.

He can hear Mickey’s breathing, the slight hitch in it every so often as he tries not to let the feelings overtake him.

He’s thankful he’s letting him clean him up rather than pulling away and storming out, a trail of red running out the door.

“Fuck him. Fuckin’ piece of shit.” He hears Mickey mumble as he’s putting the last bandage on, looks up to see those beautiful blues finally leaking tears.

“Thought I’d be over this shit already. He’s fuckin’ dead, why am I still fucked up about this, man?”

All he can do is pull him up and wrap his arms around him, hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. Mickey’s injured hand hangs by his side but his other one comes up to clutch at the back of his sleep shirt, face pressing into his chest. He can feel the front of his shirt becoming wet with tears.

He’s not sure how long they stand there in their darkened kitchen but eventually Mickey sniffs and breaks away.

“Gotta clean up the rest of the glass.”

They work together to get the broom and the dust pan out, dumping the frame and the broken pieces into the trash can. All that’s left is the death certificate.

Ian picks it up, heart clenching at the way Mickey flinches when he sees it.

“C’mon,” Ian says, leading the way towards their balcony.

He grabs a lighter on his way onto the balcony, turns to see Mickey following him out.

There’s a look of confusion and then his face clears and he gets it, takes the offered lighter and the paper.

He sighs, then brings the certificate up and lights a corner. It burns slowly, then quicker, the flame running over the edges until it’s reduced to almost nothing. He let’s it go, leaning into Ian’s hand as he rubs at the back of his neck, both of them watching as the rest of it burns itself out in the wind, the ashes fluttering to the ground below them.

“Fuck you, Terry.”

[estevesia-whump]

hell's right hand (1.1): the beginning of the beginning

CW/TW: SA (not graphic but it's implied), torture (also not very graphic), abuse, blood, killing (implied), captivity, nausea/dry heaving (brief)

note: the mcs are 18-19 in this and nothing bad happens to the younger kids

-

He can tell from the slight changes in light filtering through the sliver of a window that it's been 10 days, at least, though it's only a rough estimate since he stopped counting at 5. He does know for sure that he needs to leave, somehow, but the second he was dumped in this concrete room, he knew there was no way out. No matter how hard he fought at the start, it only managed to drain out the remainder of his energy.

Something stings, or maybe everything stings, or maybe nothing at all. He's been checking himself for broken bones each time he wakes up and before he falls asleep, but all he can see are the bruises, scrapes and hickeys littered all over his arms, legs and chest. There's dried blood down his inner thighs, and probably on his back as well but he can't be sure. It's okay. They'll clean him soon.

It hurts to sit, so he curls up on the cold floor, back against the wall. Not the most comfortable, but it's better this than to have consistent throbs shooting through his pelvis and up his lower spine.

A few days ago, they stopped bothering to tie him down because he was too tired to do much, so it's just the ankle cuffs now. At least he won't have rope burns.

They clean him up every day (he thinks it's every day, but it might be twice a day -- either way, there's a pattern), blindfold him and bring him to a different room, one where he's cuffed to a bed. The softness doesn't feel good, though, because he's quickly thrust into until he's sticky and sweaty all over and he's sobbing and shaking and begging for it all to stop. It burns from the inside, a searing pain that leaves him feeling raw all over.

He then gets washed and dragged back to the concrete room afterwards. He's hit if he's still crying, so he usually tries to quell the tears, leaving him with a lump in his throat and nausea building in his gut. A plate is pushed in front of him, and he's instructed to eat. Usually it's bread or congee, still lukewarm.

The food itself isn't bad, but he's lucky if he can stomach it especially after the ordeal just minutes prior. If he doesn't eat it in an allotted time, it's taken away. If he throws up, he gets cleaned up and beaten again, but never enough to cause serious damage, unfortunately. He wishes they would deal some actual injuries, though, and then maybe they would just leave him alone.

There's an order to it that he gets used to eventually. He's allowed water every few hours. Food is allowed after he's been on that bed with a stranger (it seems to be a different person each time, judging from the different voices). He sleeps when he can, but it's never for a long time because he's woken up either by a throbbing pain or by one of his handlers shaking him awake.

This is his fault, though. He should've been more careful, should've listened to his parents. Where are his parents? He wonders if they're alright, if they miss him -- the mere thought makes him chuckle weakly. Of course they don't. They're probably celebrating that he's gone.

The door bangs open with a clang, and he's being manhandled, scrubbed down with soap and water, blindfolded and brought to that damned bedroom.

It doesn't hurt as much anymore. Maybe he's just gotten used to it, or maybe everything else just hurts so much that he can't pinpoint the pain. Whoever's with him this time finishes more quickly than the other ones, and Kyre gasps for air when he's done.

It's time for the other men to come in and clean him up now, but nothing happens.

A few seconds of just panting, then the man inside of Kyre falls to the side and the room goes quiet.

Someone, a girl, judging by the sound of the voice, swears. The man is pulled off of him, landing on the ground with a thunk and the cuffs and blindfold are removed, but he doesn't open his eyes, too exhausted to move.

"What's your name?" the voice asks.

What is his name? He hasn't heard it in a while... "K-Ky? ...Kyre."

"Can you open your eyes for me?"

"'M ti...tired," he mumbles, turning his face to the side.

"I can see that. Just open your eyes, please."

Whoever it is sounds urgent, so he forces himself to open his eyes and is met with the face of a girl wearing a helmet. Her face relaxes a little, and he closes his eyes again.

She's trying to help him sit up now, but the movement makes him dizzy and before he knows it, he's dry heaving and he's not sure which way is up so she turns him on his side and pats his back.

"Were you drugged?" she asks once the retching dies down a little.

He shakes his head.

"You sure?"

What do you mean, am I sure?

She sighs. "Let me find you some clothes and then we'll get out of here."

There's rustling, and then she's trying to put pants on him.

A weak moan escapes his lips when she pulls the pants up, scraping the wounds on his legs, and in the stinging pain and buzzing in his ears, for once, he can't feel a thing.

-

So the kid's name is Kyre, apparently. Why does it sound so familiar?

Liexia fumbles around the room, underneath the bed for any clothes she can put on the boy, and finally resorts to the clothes of the man she just killed. There's blood all over his shirt, so she takes the pants that are thrown off to the side. She'll get Kyre a shirt later.

She hoists him up, making sure to keep his head stabilized as he groans, blinking slowly.

"Wh-wha?"

"You passed out for a second there," she tells him. "Don't lean back, 'kay?"

For the amount of muscle he's got on him, he's a lot lighter than she expects, but not light enough to comfortably throw over one shoulder. She resorts to a pack strap carry, and from there, it's not too difficult to get him out of the room and past the bodies in the hallway.

Evander's waiting for her outside with the rest of the kids, who are playing with him and all seem to be fine, shaken at most, thankfully. For some reason, Kyre's the only one that's visibly hurt at all.

The moment he spots her, Evander jogs over to help carry Kyre to the group.

"You got everyone in there?" he asks, intentionally keeping his voice quiet.

"Yup. Made sure they were all dead before I went further in."

"I meant the victims, Liexia."

"He's the only one."

Evander frowns. "What?"

"Yeah. It was just him -- his name's Kyre, by the way -- and the little kids. Did you get their names and ages?"

"Aurelie did."

"Where is she right now?" Liexia asks, looking around.

"She's getting the car."

"We don't have enough seats, though," she replies. "I assume she's driving, and even if both of us don't get in the car, we'll only have 7 seats left. And how many kids are there? Ten?"

"Nine, not including Kyre. It's fine. We could have all the kids squeeze in the back, and one of us can call the authorities and get Kyre some medical care while everyone else drives to the motel. I can take the fall for this if--"

"No, I dragged you two into this, so it's my responsibility." Liexia sighs. "And nothing's gonna happen. We're not in the wrong, for the record, they are, so we're not calling the authorities. They'll find the bodies themselves and deal with it accordingly."

"You do realize the authorities are still going to find you either way, right? You killed a pretty high profile guy in there."

"So? I've done that multiple times even before you and Aurelie joined me. The authorities haven't gotten me once. We'll bring Kyre to the motel with us and I'll have my mom treat him."

"Can he wait that long?"

"He doesn't seem to be drugged, Ev. It's fine."

"Just because he doesn't seem to be drugged doesn't mean he isn't!"

Aurelie pulls up to the curb with the car at that moment, headlights on. "Get in."

Evander has the kids file in first, managing to fit the five older ones in the back row. Three smaller kids sit next to Evander in the middle row with the smallest boy on his lap, while Liexia helps Kyre into the passenger seat and clips the seatbelt.

The car doors close and Liexia climbs up to the car roof, clipping herself onto the top bars.

Aurelie rolls down her window. "Ready, Liexia?"

"Yup."

The car begins moving down the gravel road, away from the now abandoned building tainted of blood.

-

interested in reading more?

Synopsis of 1st arc of series: Liexia, the 18 year-old daughter of a renowned gang boss, goes on missions for what she views as justice: cleansing the world of criminals that are above the law. But when she leaves a trace for the first time in years, a private military corporation tracks her down and will use whatever means necessary to turn her into a full-fledged mercenary.

[mlgneverdies]

Generator Rex: Lonesome [Creepypasta]

If you grew up with Cartoon Network, chances are you might have a favorite action cartoon of theirs whether it was Teen Titans, Samurai Jack, Ben 10, or Sym-Bionic Titan. My personal favorite is Generator Rex. From the punk rock attitude to the tight worldbuilding and action sequences, I'd say it's easily Man of Action's magnum opus. But why do I open with this factoid about me? 

Well, it started when I was on my walk back from the local dump when an orange USB drive caught my eye. Now, I'm no stranger to peculiar litter being found on the side of the road, but this was a bit different. It looked clean and unused which had me wonder why it would be tossed in the first place. Whatever the case, I decided to take it back with me on the trek. I got home and turned on my computer, then inserted the USB so I could see if there was anything interesting, after a quick antivirus scan just to be on the safe side of course. Fortunately, the drive was clean, so I carried on.

It held a single .avi file titled "Lonesome". The preview image of the video was blank, so I had nothing to go off of but the file name. Gripped by the typical bit of curiosity that happens in these tales, I double clicked on the file, and it opened in VLC Media Player.

The video started with a clip of the earth and a massive explosion kicking off with Revolution by Orange, which made me realize that this was, in fact, an episode of Generator Rex. It was odd to see the intro sequence play first rather than start off with a cold open like the show usually does, but I passed that off as a little quirk. At least until something else happened.

The title stayed there for 15 seconds then hard cut to the interior of Providence, specifically Dr. Holiday’s lab, which was in mass disarray and dark to the point where you’d have to squint to make out the scenery. No music was playing, only a long, ambient droning noise. Then Rex walked in with a worried look on his face. His colors were duller than they usually were in the show and his animation was close to movie quality smooth.

Rex called out to the empty lab. "Holiday? Six? Bobo? White Knight? Anyone here?"

I couldn’t help but notice he sounded genuinely worried, as if the VA was undergoing immense fear himself.

It cut to a POV shot from Rex’s view, which was animated like one of those found footage films. Distorted moans were heard, causing Rex to stop and look behind him. For a split second, I thought I saw a silhouette of some type of entity. It didn’t look anything like any of the EVOs seen throughout the show, though the appearance was so brief I didn't know what it could have looked like.

Rex got to the briefing room, and it was just as derelict as the rest of the place. The only difference is there were several limp bodies all over the place. There was a bit of blood on some of them, albeit not hyper-realistic. Rex looked to the large screen where White Knight usually showed himself and it turned on by itself, fading in with static. The static then switched to one of the live action promos for the show. In this promo in particular, two kids were arguing about something while a third kid held a camera only for them all to see the multi-faced EVO from the first episode attack, prompting them to run away to safety. Well, that’s how it originally played out. In this twisted rendition, a car came flying at them as soon as the EVO was seen, and before they could react, they were crushed by the car. The camera cut to black as the car landed, but the screams of agony and crunching of bones and flesh played crystal clear before being cut off by a silhouetted face. A hushed voice was then heard after 8 seconds of silence:

“You couldn’t.”

Just then it cut to Rex holding his chest in pain as a slowed down, echoing voice played in the background. His chest then burst open with bloodied metal tendrils that latched to the floor, which disturbed me since usually the machines Rex builds are an outer layer instead of internal. Blood ran down the tendrils as Rex struggled to break himself free.

Rex then woke up in a cold sweat in his trailer. For a brief moment, I was thankful that it was all just some twisted dream and hoped that everything was okay. Rex got up and walked out of his trailer, only to find the rest of the plant empty save for the bodies of the other Providence defectors, all of whom were pale and had the usual bit of blood. The slowed down voice returned as the lights began to flicker.

"No…" Rex whispered with deep sorrow. "This can’t be…"

Rex ran out of the plant as fast as he could and formed his Boogie Pack, taking to the skies. It was a pitch-black night. No stars, no moon, nothing to speak of. All that was visible on the frame was Rex flying around. He landed in the nearest city and saw that bodies were strewn everywhere, pale and somewhat bloodied like the others before. Rex looked around, unable to comprehend the situation, as that silhouetted entity formed behind Rex. It was in the shape of what appeared to be a seraph and the only thing visible in its inky black form were two white eyes. It spoke in a faint whisper:

“You failed to save them.”

Rex turned around and saw the entity. With a look that can only be described as a mix of fear and anger, he formed Smack Hands and tried to hit the entity, but they proved ineffective. The hands broke apart likely due to the immense stress Rex was going through.

"I don't believe you...I cured the world..."

"You never got back the Meta-Nanites. The Consortium had defeated you. You were sent into a coma for the past five years. The earth was at the mercy of them, and all life perished, but they banished you to this realm that only I inhabited. No light. No life. And the worst part of all…the blood is on your hands. The blood is on your hands. The blood is on your hands."

The entity kept repeating that phrase as Rex fell to his hands and knees turning away from it, and the captions for VLC Media Player turned on by themselves to display the phrase. I didn’t even know this video had captions. The background faded to black while Rex had his saturation cranked up to the max and that moaning voice came back growing louder gradually until the video froze, the audio skipping and the phrase "The blood is on your hands" written in red and repeated in the inky blackness Rex and the entity were left in. I had to turn the player down to 10% to hear it normally. Then after 20 seconds of this, the episode ended and the credits rolled.

The credits were dimmed in brightness and the zoo theme didn’t play. Instead, it was The Lonely Man by Joe Harnell, but slowed down considerably. When it got to the voice credits, it all turned dark to the point the background art was barely visible, and Rex was the only voice credited. It held on longer than usual, then went back to "normal" after that.

The Cartoon Network Studios logo stayed still and dim. Only the sounds of old radio static and distant screams of agony could be heard along with an active buzzsaw. And after that it cut off.

I stepped away for a bit to attempt to comprehend what it was I just watched. I know the show is notable for its darker subject matter in comparison to other action cartoons at the time, but this was practically diabolical for the standards of the show. I’m not sure if it was some actual lost episode kept on the cutting room floor at Man of Action, or if it’s some high quality fanwork that might have proposed a bad alternate ending for the show.

One thing I know for sure is that I’m keeping this with me. I’d rather not have anyone else exposed to this through internet uploading or selling it on eBay because who knows what could happen to others who see it. I will share a screenshot, but that’s about it. I still enjoy Generator Rex all the same, no question, but this is an experience that will remain burned in the back of my mind for years to come.

[lady-maria-the-wolf225]

If your turtle husband/boyfriend were cat sitters:

Leo: okay little feline time to get your litter box cleaned!

Cat: *grooms itself*

Leo: (Y/N) said that I got to clean it every morning. *cleans up the icky poops until he saw one out of the box on the floor* oh come on. that’s the second time since yesterday. what the hell did my waifu give you?

Cat: *blinks slowly and meows*

Leo: -_-.....oh really? well I hope you enjoyed that, because you’re in my world now, and i’m changing your diet! you gonna eat what I give you while you like it or not!

Cat: *stares*

Leo: *shakes his head*

Raph: Alright little puff ball. time ta feed ya. yo mama gave me these fancy feast....things...

Cat: *meows annoyingly*

Raph: quit complaining will ya?

cat: *hisses*

Raph: *stares at the cat angrily* hey! I took great care of ya, and that is how you gonna repay me!?

cat: *stares*

Raph: Tch. and I thought dogs doing a better job at being man’s best friend. *dumps food in cat bowl* there. bon apatitty. 

Donnie: *cutting the cat's nails*

Cat: *bites him*

Donnie: I don't care how much ya bite me. I'm still cutting your nails. Look what you did to my arm!....you wanna scratch your butt off? Than this is what we are gonna do.

Cat: *Bites him again and meows*

Donnie: yeah I know. And I still don't care if ya bite me.

Cat: *hisses at him*

Donnie: *hisses back* I can do it too! Be nice!

Cat: O_O...*meows*

Donnie: I know how to hiss just like you!

Cat: *meows*

Donnie: yeah! *hisses at the cat again* I can do it too! You bite me again, I bite you back you little monster! *cuts the nails again*

Cat: *meows*

Donnie: uh huh!....be glad my Bae who is your mommy didn't leave you to some expensive day care!!

Mikey: it's my first ever baby kitten to take care of!

Kitten: *makes baby meowing noises*

Mikey: aww! You're so cute! *rubs his cheeks on the small kitten as it purrs* we're gonna have a great time! It's a good thing my sweet Angelcakes (Y/N) brought you lots of toys and cute outfits to wear!

Mikey: *spends time with the kitten and taking great care of it all day and taking photos until he passed out*

@kokokatsworld @tmntspidergirl @turtle-babe83 @alittletworaph @selfless1978 @cowabunga-doll @kawaiibunga @exovapor @shadow-ninjas @tmntspidergirl @angelcatlowyn

[mydearmoody]

Party Damage

Sunlight floods my room. I shield my face, eyes still closed. A headache has begun, thumping through my temples. Groaning, I think of last night. Loud music. Vodka shots. Cold pizza. And that magical kiss. I open my eyes. Rubbing out the crusts of sleep sand out of my eyes, I try to orient myself in the living room.

Light finds the dustiest of corners, holding the dust in dense swirls. Two of my friends are asleep on the pull-out sofa, hands dropping off the side of it. I get up from my makeshift bed on the floor and survey the damage.

The living room is a mess. Bottles of alcohol and disposable cups are lying all around. The plants have been turned over, my favourite lamp lies broken on the floor. The comfy chair has a large red stain on it – blood or food, I don’t know which is worse. My bookshelf is somehow broken and my books are lying in a heap in the corner. And then I see the worst, my cat’s litter box is turned over, its contents spread everywhere.

Upset, I get up. I grab a broom and sweep the floor. Then, I pour out some fresh litter in the box and try to find my cat. He’s not fond of guests, he’s not fond of anybody really. He is definitely hiding under the bed in my bedroom.

I go to my bedroom and open the door slowly. I tiptoe inside and close the door silently, trying not to disturb the occupant of my bed who is snoring faintly. I get on my knees and look under the bed. I can see my cat’s eyes flashing at me. I try to belly crawl towards him but instead bang my head against the bottom of the bed.

“What? Where?” the girl on the bed calls out.

I get out from under the bed, rubbing the spot where I banged my head.

“Sorry, I was looking for Max”

“Is he all right?” she asks, her morning voice breaking.

“Yeah, yeah he is. He’s glowering at me from under the bed. Pretty sure he’s going to scratch my face out when you all leave.”

She laughs, all throaty and sleepy. And then sits upright, hugging the pillow. Her hair is tussled and she’s blinking slowly in the morning light. Last night when she walked into the party, she had a heavenly aura about her. She practically glowed. When we met, I felt a magical connection. It was something I couldn’t explain.

I never imagined a girl would sleep in my bed. Just like last night, I can’t stop looking at her. She looks angelic.

She smiles at me.

“So last night. Great party!” she says.

“Oh yeah. It was, wasn’t it?”

“Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed”

“Anytime!”

And then there’s this awkward silence where we grin at each other stupidly. I break it.

“I should get back to cleaning the party mess. The damage is excessive.” And I giggle for some reason.

“I’ll help you!” she offers.

“Thanks!” I say and we make our way to the living room.

“Why don’t you go ahead and freshen up? I need to get Max out of my room. He must be hungry.” I say to her.

“Sure thing”

I go back to my room and look at my reflection in the mirror. Ugh. I’m a mess. I try to comb my hair. How do I look now? Like a serial killer! Oh great.

I crawl under the bed and get Max out. I dump him near the water bowl. He’s too angry to drink and instead follows me out to the living room.

It takes me a few seconds to register what I see. Everything in my living room is back to where it should be. Even the large red stain from the chair is gone. I walk to my unbroken bookshelf and see that my books have been arranged by genre. Did my room magically clean itself up? I call out for her. She doesn’t answer but my friends sleeping on the sofa wake up.

“Why in the world are you being so loud?”

I check my bathroom. It’s empty. There’s a pot of something pink next to the tap. I pick it up and smell it. It smells like our kiss.

I go out into the living room and sit on the unstained chair sniffing the pot of lip gloss. Max climbs up on the chair and sniffs at it too.

“What the hell were you yelling about earlier?” my friend asks.

I hold up the pot of gloss and say “The only party damage”.

*

She’s watching the whole exchange from above.

Her friend nudges her and says “That one was cute”.

“She certainly was”

“What exactly did you leave for this one?”

“A pot of nostalgia”

[timextoxhajima]

CAPITAL LETTERS: Christmas Special

BONUS TRACK: CHANGE YOUR MIND

Member: Juyeon

Genre: CHRISTMAS FLUFF AND A TINY BIT OF SMUT

Word Count: 2.3k words

A/N: Merry Christmas to all my readers out there! I hope you’re safe, warm and happy wherever you are! I considered writing a full-on smut for this special but decided not to, in the spirit of wholesome giving. I hope this will serve as a little token of appreciation for your patience in reading my work. <3

My love, 

You’ve been away far too long now, I’m starting to feel like I’m forgetting your scent. How is it like over there? Is the weather kind to you? Are you eating well? I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.

Love, Juyeon

Your lids droop halfway down your eyeballs, chucking away the handwritten letter into your purse and looking behind your shoulder. 

“You are extremely dramatic for someone who���s been sitting right outside my office,” He pulls the door open and pops his head in. His hair is a new mixture of black with highlights the colour of clouds and it couldn’t have made him look better.

Your jaw drops open in pleasant surprise, eyes trying to process the sight before you. But then he walks in, and he’s very obviously hiding something behind his back. A squint forms on your lids and that playful tongue of his darts out to swipe across his lower lip, just moments before he lunges forward and pecks you on your lips. 

He doesn’t want you to hug him because he knows you’ll find some way to climb onto him and figure out what he’s hiding behind his back. 

“What, no time to rest?” Folding your arms, you raise a brow when he coyly walks backward into your sofa, careful not to crush whatever he was holding behind his back. “First, you come into my office looking like that then now you’re hiding, what, keys to your helicopter behind your back?”

“What’s wrong with looking like ‘that’?” Mischief creeps along his lips in the form of a smirk, cuing you to provide him with an exaggerated scoff. 

“You know what I mean.”

You can feel him watch you as you walk around to the back of your table, packing all your Christmas gifts from your colleagues into the shelves or drawers. 

“Well, aren’t you going to try and figure out what I got for you?”

“I’ll just wait until you can’t take it anymore. It’s not like you can hide that behind your back all the way till we get home, you need to drive.”

“Ugh,” Groaning in mild frustration, the friction of fabric against sofa tells that Juyeon removed himself from the furniture, the gentle footsteps into the marble floor getting closer to you. His presence is strong behind you, then both his hands travel around the side of your waist, under your arms, and presents you a Christmas bouquet of white and red roses with a gold wrap. 

You don’t bother to take the bouquet, but instead, you whip around and wrap your arms around his torso, resting your head in his chest. Juyeon chuckles, sinking his nose and lips into the crown of your head. You can feel him trying to tighten his hold around you despite the bouquet still being in one of his hands. 

“Thank you,” He releases you as you take the bouquet from him, his hands dropping to your waist. “Now I feel bad for making you wait outside my office.” 

“You did warn me,” The bouquet looks large when it’s in your hands, but all you do is stare and gleam at the flowers like it was gold. “Besides, watching you work is kinda hot.”

“Says you,” Looking up, Juyeon smiles not with his lips, but with his eyes as he leans forward. Providing you with a long, hard, kiss, Juyeon removes the bouquet from your hands, placing it on the desk behind him. Closing the gap between your bodies, he pulls you forward as he shifts back to lean against your desk, your thighs between his knees as your arms travel up his chest and around his neck. 

The pilot tastes like mint chocolate, of which you can assume was due to his habit of brushing his teeth after he ate.

“Yo, have you looked at the production details for the-- oh my God! What the--” 

Juyeon almost refuses to release you when he can recognise Sunwoo’s voice, though you’ve already panicked and broken the kiss. 

“Oh-- Jesus-- Didn’t I tell you to knock before you come in?” Sunwoo watches you try to pull yourself away from Juyeon, but he intertwines his fingers behind your back. His head is turned around and looking at Sunwoo with the widest grin on his face. 

“Since when the Hell did you tell me to knock?” Sunwoo raises his hand in a bid to greet Juyeon, who nods in acknowledgement. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Juyeon receives a gentle thwack on his chest. "Blame me."

"He's got a point, it's your office."  

"Whose side are you on?" 

"Ugh, I'll leave the production file here," Sunwoo tosses the glossy item onto the sofa Juyeon was previously sitting on. "Remind me never to touch your desk, like, ever."

"Bye, Sunwoo!" Juyeon calls out, pulling you closer and pasting his torso to your body. 

"Yeah, yeah, knock yourself out," Sunwoo's voice trails off as he walks out, shutting the door behind him. Your attention returns to Juyeon, eyes forming a squint again as you arch your back and look down at those playful eyes; eyes that looked like they belong to a five-year-old.

"Tsk! You--" Juyeon suddenly stands up and crashes his lips into yours again, your neck tilting upwards but resting in his palms as he cups your cheek. You can smell the breathy mint despite already tasting it, and the cologne that was wafting off his white button up top was gradually intoxicating your thoughts. The same way he was able to win you over with a gap of one year in between. 

Every muscle in his arms shifts under your fingers, the way he's kissing you feels like swimming in a pile of cotton and clouds and snow. 

He offers a soft moan before pulling away, brushing his thumb across your lower lip to clean off the smudged lip tint. "Ah," He touches his own lips. "Now everybody in your office will know we kissed." 

This time, you roll your eyes and let him kiss you on the forehead. 

Juyeon closes the car door for you, leaving you to admire the flowers in the bouquet as he walks around the vehicle. The car smells like him, and when he gets into the car, all you want to do is to jump on him and litter kisses all over his face and hug him and watch Christmas movies and--

"Again with your staring," The smirk he has on his face makes you want to barf because he's teasing with you, flirting, as if the two of you aren't already together. "Do I get to bring you to your next present or do you need more time staring at me?”

"Everything you're saying now is only making me think of when we first met." 

"How do you know I'm not doing it on purpose?"

The morning after you finally saw him again after one year.

Maybe it was the Christmas spirit that was getting to him, but you can't help but to look at him with the most done eyes you've ever given someone. 

"Alright, alright. I won't be such a prick now. We'll go, okay?"

"And where are we going?"

It takes you awhile to realise Juyeon was driving out of the city, away from the lights and further into the country side where snow collects in mounts and nobody would bother those white pillows. You would protest and ask him if he was trying to kidnap you, but all you can see is the way the snow sparkles under the street lights, the distant stars of Mars and Jupiter in the sky like a white dot in the navy canvas. 

The road ends and the vehicle comes to a stop. Juyeon gives you a secretive smile as he reaches behind and picks up a large bag, exiting the car while waiting for you to follow suit. The puffs that escape through your every exhale form tiny clouds as Juyeon holds your hand and walks down a slippery path. The both of you are tucked in thick coats and scarves and gloves but just having him with you feel so warm in itself. 

If you thought Juyeon bringing you on a helicopter ride was romantic, you thought wrong. 

The path among the trees open up into a huge space of white and blue, with the moon in the sky brimming its silver light down. 

Right before you was a frozen water body, a frozen lake. The low lighting is slightly difficult to adjust to, so by the time you've turned to Juyeon in pleasant surprise, he's gotten two pairs of skates out from the bag he took from the car. 

Juyeon pulls you to your feet after he helps you buckle your skates, and the ice below the blades pulls you nearer to him due to your lack of balance. His laughter sounds like a song by your ears, feeling his arms hold you up to your feet and his hands are on your waist to hold you still. 

Then, you are drifting across the cold space in his arms as he plasters himself to you, despite the many layers of clothing between your chests. Your head is in his shoulder, gently inhaling his scent off his coat though the snow should’ve melted it away. 

“You good?” 

A mellow hum thrums through your throat as a smile stretches itself across your lips. You look up at him, straight into those eyes of his that looked nothing short of your world. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulls your beanie down over your ears, one hand still on your waist and yours around his torso. “I don’t know, you’re quiet.”

“I’m enjoying the moment,” Nestling your head back into his chest, it feels like heaven and pillows and clouds and marshmallows until he tells you it’s time to go. 

By the time you’re in the car, you’ve lost count of the number of times Juyeon has lost his words in your mouth. After dumping the skates into the boot, he pulled you into the backseat, for a few minutes battling the awkward fart-sounding noises of the leather before he has you straddling his lap. 

He’s looking up at you like you were a God, and it forces chills down your spine as you tilt your head to give him exactly what he wanted. 

“Ju--” A kiss. 

“Hmm?” Another kiss. 

“We’re not staying here all night--” One more. “Are we?”

He pulls away, eyes hooded when he turns his attention to your neck. “Of course not, I have more presents for you at home.”

“What? What else did you get me?” Finding his cheeks in your palm, you pull him back to face you. But all he does is nuzzle your skin with his nose, pressing kisses into the heart of your palm with his shadowed eyes watching you. 

“You’ll find out when we get home,” Your waist feels warm just as he circles your waist with his arms. “I’d stay like this with for longer if I could, pity a day only has 24 hours. That’s too little time.”

Ugh, what a sweet talker. 

“Okay, well... I don’t want to wait until the sunrises before I can drink hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies with you so maybe we should go.”

Juyeon provides you the tiniest pout, before he relents and quickly pecks you on the cheeks.

You couldn't decide what it was that decided you deserved a life like this. There must've been something you had done in your past life to be snuggled up against Juyeon's chest, both of you in matching pajamas and two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows bobbing up and down inside on the table by your feet.

The blanket was covering most of you, only up to his chest while his arms are wrapped around you. The light from the television is reflecting off his face and his eyes, the amber lighting of his living room making it all the more comfortable and cozy for you. The snow outside was billowing and yet you feel so far away from danger.

He smells like lemon from his body wash and his fingers that were interlocked with yours feel warm against your skin.

Juyeon's attention was unrivalled when he doesn't notice how long you've spent staring at his side profile. He was mindlessly fiddling with your fingers under the blanket and stroking the length of your calf that was over his thighs. The movie was some stupid rom-com he said he wanted to watch, and you let him, only because he watched horror movies with you whenever you wanted.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, the physical contact finally gains his notice.

"Why? Are you sleepy? Shall we call it a day?" He picks up the remote and pauses the movie, turning to his side to face you.

"I am, but we don't have to sleep now. It's not midnight yet."

Juyeon's little smile in the corner of his lips melt your thoughts through and through, his slightly damp white highlights against his lashes. His hand travels up to rub your ears, tips slightly cool.

"Who said we need to wait till midnight?" His arm comes round your waist under the blanket and pulls you into his chest, forcing you into more or less a cradled position.b

"I don't know, wouldn't it be nice to stay away till Christmas and then I get to kiss you the first second of our first Christmas together?" Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you cringe over what you've just said, but Juyeon likes that kind of nonsense and he laughs into your lips when he plants a kiss to them.

"There's no need to wait for Christmas, princess," Cupping your cheek in his palm, he pulls away just slightly to finish the rest of his sentence. "You can kiss me anytime you want."

“Wait,” You pull away, thumb brushing across his lower lip as his breath hits yours. He playfully raises a brow, already not in favour of the gap between your faces. “What’s my present?”

He pauses, then reads your eyes. He knows you already know what the present is. 

“Me, for the rest of your life and mine.”

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Three

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Three

“It’s not too close to where you used to live, is it?” Luka inquired nervously as they climbed the stairs to the third floor of the apartment building in the fifteenth arrondissement, not far from the Eiffel Tower.

“No, it’s fine,” Adrien assured, taking in how clean and in good repair everything was despite the building being older. “They leveled the mansion and built new homes on the lot, so it’s not a problem. I don’t think I could take seeing that building, that wall of windows, ever again, but the area itself is fine.”

“Oh, good,” Luka breathed in relief. “The last thing I’d want is to take you somewhere full of painful reminders.”

“No, this is wonderful,” Adrien stressed. “This place is really nice, and I’m so grateful to you for taking me in. Seriously. Thank you.”

“Not at all,” Luka assured with an encouraging grin as they made their way down the hall to the eighth and last door on the left-hand side. “I cannot stress what a weight off my mind it is to have you close by so that I can see that you’re safe. I’m happy to have you.”

Adrien looked down at his scuffed-up shoes as Luka pulled out the key.

“I’m really sorry to have worried you,” Adrien mumbled, shame making the tips of his ears burn. “I guess I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about how what I was doing would affect anyone else. I didn’t think I really mattered to anyone.”

Luka tamped down the surge of anger he suddenly felt towards Gabriel Agreste for all the years of neglect Adrien had suffered that made him think that his existence had so little impact on others.

He reached out and ruffled Adrien’s hair. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. Just stop and think next time you’re considering dropping off the face of the earth without telling anyone.”

“Sorry,” Adrien repeated, leaning into Luka’s touch.

“No worries,” Luka reiterated, increasing the pressure. “I think we all get it. Your whole life got smashed to pieces, and there was a lot going on. No one’s mad at you. We all know you were trying your best just to survive, but we were worried and mad at our own inability to do anything. Nino is still a wreck, and that Wayem guy you were friends with was completely inconsolable. Alya, Kagami, Chloé…Marinette…”

Both Luka and Adrien flinched at the last name.

“…a lot of people care about you,” Luka sighed, moving his hand to scratch behind Adrien’s ear, slipping back into their old casual intimacies as if no time had passed.

“It’s good to know that,” Adrien replied in a weak voice, swallowing back a fresh round of tears.

Internally, he laughed at the fact that he’d cried more in that single day than he had in the preceding year.

“I’m going to need to reach out to them later tonight,” Luka tentatively informed.

Adrien’s head shot up, his eyes wide in alarm.

“I don’t have to tell them you’re staying with me or even that you’re back in Paris, but they need to know that you’re safe and well,” Luka insisted, not taking no for an answer. “You don’t have to talk to them until you’re ready, but I know what it feels like to wonder if you’re dead, Adrien. They deserve to know you’re safe.”

Reluctantly, Adrien nodded. “I see your point. …I was thinking about getting back in touch with Nino and Marinette, actually. I’m not ready right now, but…yeah. I don’t want to worry them any more than I already have.”

“Good,” Luka sighed, opening the apartment door. “That settles it, then.”

He was just about to step inside when he suddenly remembered the state his apartment was currently in after The Breakup.

Luka hurriedly closed the door and groaned.

“Problem?” Adrien inquired hesitantly, eyebrows scrunching together in concern.

Luka rested his forehead against the door and took a deep breath. “…Uh…yeah. I kind of forgot that the apartment is sort of a dump right now. I think Josie mentioned how I just broke up with the woman I had planned on spending my life with six days ago?”

Adrien winced. “Oh. That’s… Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Luka blew out a long breath, straightening up and looking at Adrien apologetically. “I’m so sorry. It’s not normally like this, I swear. I just haven’t been functioning this past week.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien assured with a look of utter sympathy and understanding on his face as he reached out and placed a comforting hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry,” Luka repeated, voice raw as all the emotions he’d been pushing to the back of his mind resurfaced. “Sorry I’m kind of going to pieces on you out in the hallway when you’ve got so much on your own plate.”

“Shh,” Adrien soothed, coaxing Luka gently into his arms.

Luka was a little embarrassed at how quickly he melted into Adrien’s touch.

“It’s okay,” Adrien cooed, starting to rub soothing circles between Luka’s shoulder blades. “I’m really sorry that you’re having a rough time, but, honestly, the ugly part of me feels a lot better knowing that even you can be a mess sometimes.”

“I’m glad you’re able to take comfort in my suffering,” Luka laughed through tears, giving Adrien a squeeze.

“It’s just that you’re always so chill and mature and levelheaded,” Adrien teased. “You were always the one comforting me and giving advice and making me feel better about the crappy things in my life. It’s good to feel like maybe I have an opportunity to be there for you now.”

“That’s valid,” Luka agreed into Adrien’s shoulder. “…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Adrien hummed happily, giving Luka a pat on the back.

With another sigh, Luka straightened up and opened the door. “I promise you I’m going to clean all this up starting tomorrow. Going forward, I won’t leave a mess in the common areas.”

Adrien clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Luka, it’s seriously not a big deal. I am literally homeless; I’m not going to judge your housekeeping lapses while you’re going through a major breakup. It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t feel fine,” Luka grumbled as Adrien stepped into the apartment and got his first look at the carnage. “And you’re not homeless anymore,” Luka chided, stepping inside and locking the door behind them. “You live here now, so welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Adrien chuckled, taking in the dirty laundry, soiled dishes, pizza boxes, Chinese takeaway cartons, and half-eaten junk food refuse.

“Oh my God,” Luka groaned. “Please don’t look at it. I swear I don’t live like this all the time. I’ll clean it all up tomorrow.”

Adrien turned to Luka and pulled him into a quick hug. “I’m sorry that you’re suffering. It’s okay not to be able to stay on top of everything all the time.”

Luka was stunned into silence, not sure how to feel.

Adrien pulled back and smiled, ignoring the mess and asking, “So, where do I sleep?”

“Here,” Luka replied gratefully as he stepped over the rubbish littering the living room floor to guide Adrien to the third door on the right wall. “Kitchen is there, obviously.” He pointed straight back through the apartment.

It was an open concept layout, so the living room seamlessly faded into what would have been a nice little kitchen area with an island in the middle as a workspace and a full stove, oven, refrigerator, microwave, dishwasher, cabinets, pantry, and sink…if not for the fact that, like the rest of the apartment, it looked like a disaster zone at the moment.

“That first door is my bedroom, the middle one is the bathroom, and your room is here,” Luka oriented Adrien, motioning to the other two doors in turn before opening the one that led to Adrien’s new bedroom.

“It’s kind of spartan at the moment,” Luka informed apologetically as Adrien peeked in.

It was a more-than-reasonably-sized room with generous closet space. As far as furniture went, there was a desk, a desk chair, a bed, and a nightstand. The walls were bare of decoration, and the mattress didn’t have any sheets.

Still, it was a nice room, even in its sparseness. Natural light poured in through the large windows, making it feel warm and cheerful.

“This is really nice,” Adrien whispered, voice cracking.

Luka looked to him with a tentative smile. “You like it?”

Adrien nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Good.” Luka’s hesitant grin grew into a full-blown beam. “How much stuff do you have back at your room at the hostel where you were staying? I just want to know if we need to take the car or the motorcycle or what to go get it.”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably. “Um…nothing, actually.”

Luka blinked as he did a doubletake of the small satchel Adrien had with him.

He took a deep breath and decided, “We’re going shopping.”

Adrien’s eyes grew as big as marbles for the nth time that day. “Luka, I really don’t need anything. I already feel bad what with—”

“—Hush.” Luka pressed his fingers to Adrien’s lips. “At the very least, we need to go get you some bed linens because I don’t have clean sheets to give you to sleep on. You also need a phone so people can get ahold of you for band stuff. Those things are non-negotiable.”

Adrien bit his lip, looking more and more uncomfortable as he realized that there was no way to get himself out of placing himself further in debt to Luka.

“I’ll pay you back someday,” he promised, not sure how he would ever make good on his word.

Luka’s eyes softened, and he gave Adrien a warm smile and a pat on the head. “You don’t have to, but, if it makes you feel better, okay.”

Adrien nodded resolutely. “I will pay you back.”

 The first stop was a little SFR phone boutique, and then Luka took them to a nearby Monoprix department store.

Adrien picked out an inexpensive, plain bed set, but Luka put it back and steered Adrien over to the pricier, better quality sets with fun designs.

“I don’t want you sleeping on scratchy sheets,” Luka chided affectionately. “I know you haven’t had much these past few years, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve nice things. And while I’m aware that the options here aren’t that impressive, I want you to pick something comfortable in a colour or pattern that you like, okay?”

Adrien hesitated for a moment before going over to the more expensive sets and picking out a dark blue one with a white shooting star pattern. He looked to Luka for approval, and Luka smiled, nodding.

“Perfect. Now let’s get you some clothes,” Luka announced in satisfaction.

“I have clothes,” Adrien insisted, mortified.

Luka rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you got new clothes? I know they don’t have the best selection here, but you could probably use some new socks, underwear, pyjamas, shirts, am I right?”

Adrien pointedly didn’t look at Luka.

With a sad, sympathetic expression, Luka went over to Adrien and tugged gently on his sleeve. “Please let me buy you new clothes?” Luka pleaded softly, voice just above a whisper. “I haven’t been able to do anything for you this whole time, and I feel like, based on what you said, there were times when you really needed someone. Please let me try to make up for not being there for you. Can you do that for me?”

Adrien looked up at Luka, scrutinizing his face for a minute. “To be clear, I’m not asking you to do all this for me. Because I don’t need this. This is all your idea. I’m not making you spend all this money on me.”

Luka nodded, patiently confirming, “That’s right.”

“I’m letting you do this as a favour to you,” Adrien added uneasily.

Luka kept nodding. “Yes, and I would be extremely grateful if you’d let me.”

“And you’re doing this because you’re my friend and you care for me and you feel guilty?” Adrien verified. “Not because you pity me or you’re looking down on me or anything?”

Luka placed his hands on Adrien’s shoulders and stared him intently in the eye. “What I feel for you isn’t pity. It’s empathy and compassion, Adrien. You didn’t look down on or pity me when I was broke, did you?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien scoffed at the ridiculous notion.

“No,” Luka agreed. “You didn’t. You may have felt bad that you took for granted things that I went without, but you didn’t pity me. You were compassionate, and you shared what you had with me. You bought me gifts that I couldn’t afford for myself. I still treasure the things you gave me. They’re proof that you cared about me and wanted me to have nice things.”

“Oh,” Adrien whispered as realization dawned on him.

“Do you kind of get it now?” Luka chuckled, patting Adrien on the shoulder before stepping back.

Adrien pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay. I think…we’re probably going to have to have this conversation a couple times in the coming weeks until it really sinks in, but…I think I get it, so…let’s go shopping?” he replied uncertainly.

Luka smiled, taking Adrien by the hand and leading him to the men’s clothing section.

 They picked up a week’s worth of new clothes for Adrien and then stopped by the personal care section for bath and grooming supplies.

When Adrien insisted that he didn’t strictly need an item, Luka took to saying, “I’m buying you this because I love you”.

Adrien may have protested more frequently than necessary just to get Luka to say it.

Even back when Adrien had a home and a family, he hadn’t really heard “I love you” that much. His friends (Nino especially) had often reminded Adrien that he was loved, but it had been years since he’d last been told that.

They walked past the toy section, and Adrien stopped when a bin of stuffed animals caught his eye.

He reached out to stroke a black cat plushie, and Luka saw the wistful look in Adrien’s eyes.

Luka picked up the stuffed animal and inspected it.

“I used to have one,” Adrien hastily explained, looking away. “Nathalie gave it to me for my eighth birthday to keep me company because my father had to go out of town on a business trip and my mother went with him, so I was alone for my birthday. I named him Chat Noir…. Seeing that just reminded me.”

“Do you want this?” Luka inquired, gazing at Adrien with bottomless affection.

Adrien’s eyes said “yes”, but Adrien shook his head, responding, “No, I don’t need it.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Luka chuckled, tucking the stuffed animal into the crook of Adrien’s arm. “I asked if you wanted it.”

Adrien opened his mouth to protest, but Luka cut him off.

“I’m buying you this so that every time you look at it, you’ll remember that you’re loved,” he informed, taking Adrien by the hand and tugging him along.

“Thank you,” Adrien whispered, hugging Chat Noir the Third to his chest and smiling to himself.

 The next stop was the groceries section on the ground floor.

“I really need to do the shopping,” Luka groaned. “I’m pretty sure a sentient lifeform is growing in the fridge at this point, but I’m completely wiped today.”

He sent Adrien an apologetic look. “I kind of drank myself stupid last night, and I’m still feeling it a little. Let’s just get you some snacks to tide you over until I can go grocery shopping tomorrow morning. We can get takeaway tonight for dinner, if that’s okay.”

“I’m good,” Adrien assured. “I really don’t need anything. If you recall, I didn’t exactly get snacks much growing up either.”

“Well, take a look around and see if anything looks good,” Luka urged. “At the very least, we can pick up some mint tea and prepackaged salads.”

Adrien’s eyes grew large and misty. “You remembered.”

Luka burst out laughing, and he reached out to tussle Adrien’s hair. “Perfect Fifth, you have the most bizarre comfort foods ever. Of course I remember them. Come on.”

He motioned for Adrien to follow him to the corresponding sections of the store.

On the way, he watched Adrien closely, taking note of the things that seemed to catch his eye.

“We should have sushi sometime,” he remarked as he noticed Adrien eying the sushi bar longingly. “Would you like that?”

“I would love that,” Adrien sighed wistfully, his mouth already watering. “I haven’t had sushi in forever.”

“Maybe tomorrow for lunch before rehearsal,” Luka suggested. “We can pick some up while we’re here for groceries.”

“I’d like that,” Adrien repeated softly. “Thank you for being so considerate.”

Luka responded with a grin and playfully bumped Adrien’s shoulder with his own. “Sure thing.”

The next thing that grabbed Adrien’s attention was the cheese monger’s counter.

He looked at it sadly, his eyes growing damp once more.

“Oh my gosh,” Luka exclaimed as realization hit him. “We need to pick up some Camembert for Plagg, don’t we?”

Adrien’s hand flew out to grab Luka’s arm and stop him as he made to go over to the cheese section.

Luka frowned as the tears started to spill down Adrien’s cheeks.

“Adrien? What’s wrong?” Luka cooed.

Adrien shook his head and held up his ringless right hand.

Luka gasped. “What happened?”

Adrien kept shaking his head as he ruefully bit out the words with some difficulty. “I didn’t feel like I deserved him after everything that happened…so I gave him back to her before I left.”

Luka’s already pale skin lost its remaining colour as his stomach turned sour.

He cursed under his breath.

“And here, this whole time, I was making myself feel better by telling myself that at least you had Plagg to look after you, but…” Luka cursed again, shaking his head and getting his thoughts in order. “Do you want me to call her? I’ll call her and drive over there right now and get him back for you.”

Adrien looked up at Luka in surprise. “You…she told you?”

Luka averted his eyes and shrugged. “I figured it out. Do you want me to go get Plagg for you?”

Adrien bit his lip, looking like he was just about to say yes, but then his eyes darkened, and he shook his head. “I don’t think I can face him just yet either, but when you text Marinette later that I’m alive, could you please tell her to tell Plagg that I’m sorry and I miss him?”

“I can do that,” Luka promised, already knowing that he was going to go see Marinette the next day and get Plagg from her so that he’d be on hand the second Adrien was ready to be reunited with him.

Luka realized that the fact that he was so ready to face her again on Adrien’s behalf was rather telling.

He’d never exactly stopped loving Adrien, and he feared his feelings were just waiting in the wings to flare up at any moment.

 They returned to the apartment and spent the rest of the day getting Adrien settled in. By the time Luka pushed the rubbish off of the couch so that they could sit down and eat their dinner that evening, they were both exhausted.

“After I eat, I’m going to my room and collapsing,” Luka informed, tucking into his carton of kung pao chicken.

“Sorry to have worn you out,” Adrien apologized sheepishly as he started on his vegetable lo mein. “I really appreciate everything you did for me today.”

“No worries,” Luka assured with a half-full mouth. “I wore myself out before you were even in the picture…and, honestly, today is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

Adrien tipped his head in surprise. “Wait. Really?”

Luka nodded. “Even before The Breakup, I was getting pretty down…. She’s in love with someone else. She’s always been in love with someone else, but I’ve never held it against her. I thought it was okay because it wasn’t like she was actually cheating on me or anything. She couldn’t be with him, so she settled for me, and I thought that was okay because that was still her picking me, but…it’s been years, and she’s still pining after the ghost of him.”

He looked up at Adrien with a smile that had been beaten down but still gotten back up on its feet. “I thought it was okay, but it wasn’t, and it had really started to wear down on me. So, today was actually really good. Concentrating on you is helping me get my mind out of the dark place it’s been living for a while now.”

“I’m really glad I could help in some small way,” Adrien replied with a tentative smile. “I hope you have more good days going forward.”

Luka nodded, going back to his dinner. “I’m sure I will. There are still going to be days where I drink myself into a coma and can’t get out of bed, but there will be days when I’m a functioning human being too. Maybe having you around will give me the kick in the pants I need to shower regularly and keep the apartment clean and eat all the meals I’m supposed to. I always do better when I’m focused on someone else.”

“I’ve seen you focus on other people too much and completely neglect yourself,” Adrien hummed softly. “…But I’m going to be around for a while, so I guess if I see you doing that, I can nag you about it.”

“Please feel free to do so,” Luka snorted in laughter. “Goodness knows I need it.”

He scooted over on the couch, cautiously invading Adrien’s space.

Adrien surreptitiously inched closer.

Luka closed the gap until they were shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. “Do you mind snuggling?” he asked even though Adrien was already leaning into Luka, resting his head against Luka’s shoulder.

“Snuggling is my favourite thing,” Adrien laughed. “You know that. How many times have I used you as a body pillow?”

“Things change. You never know,” Luka replied with a shrug. “I don’t ever want to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I know you’ve historically had a hard time telling people no and where your boundaries are.”

“Thanks,” Adrien whispered, voice full of gratitude. “But I think maybe you and I can just pick up where we left off, if that’s okay. You still feel like you, and you make me feel like a person I haven’t been in a long time.”

Luka tipped his head to the side, resting it against Adrien’s. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah,” Adrien hummed. “I think it is. I’ve grown a lot these past few years, but there are parts of myself that I feel like I’ve lost that I miss. There are a lot of things I want to lose and a lot of things I want to get back, so I think this is good.”

“Good,” Luka sighed, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips. “I’m feeling kind of needy lately. Snuggling sounds really good.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Adrien assured.

They ate their dinner in happy, warm silence and lingered for a while after they were through, just enjoying the company.

Finally, Luka persuaded himself to get up and take the empty containers over to the nearly overflowing rubbish bin in the kitchen.

He winced as embarrassment reared its head again. “I promise I’m going to clean all of this up tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Adrien chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s seriously fine, Luka.”

“It’s really not,” Luka grumbled. “I am not my mother. I do not go on drinking sprees and let trash pile up around me. I am a functional, responsible adult.”

Adrien got up and went over to Luka, resting a supportive hand on his arm. “You are a functional, responsible adult…and you need to cut yourself some slack. Be nice. You’re going through some stuff. That’s what you used to tell me, right?”

Adrien shot him a bolstering smile, and Luka’s lips twitched just a little in response.

“Thank you, Adrien. It’s just…this,” He waved his arms to encapsulate the entire mess of an apartment. “is not me.”

“I know,” Adrien replied matter-of-factly. “And you can fix it when you feel better. Now, off to bed with you.”

Luka pulled Adrien into a quick side-hug. “You’re the best.”

Adrien cracked up. “Please tell me that often. My self-esteem could use the boost.”

“Noted,” Luka assured, turning to head to his room.

He paused when he suddenly remembered and reached for his wallet.

“Before I forget: apartment key, credit card, cash,” he announced as he fished each item out of his wallet and set it down on one of the only clean spots on the kitchen island.

Adrien gawked. “What’s all this?”

Luka nodded to the apartment key. “I’ll have a duplicate made for you tomorrow, but if you need to go out before then, you’ll need the key. If you discover that you don’t have something you need, there’s money. I mean, I’m sure we forgot something. If you need me, just knock on my door, and if I don’t respond, come in and shake me because I’m probably stone cold passed out,” Luka concluded with a shrug.

Adrien kept staring, looking back and forth between Luka and the money in disbelief. “Aren’t you afraid of me just taking off with that?”

Luka burst out laughing. “Why would you do that?”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know. I told you earlier that I stole money from my aunt. You’d think you’d be a little more cautious.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Have you ever stolen something you didn’t need? Have you ever stolen from someone who couldn’t take the loss?”

Slowly, Adrien began to shake his head.

“Okay then,” Luka declared as if that settled it. “Besides, is it stealing if I gave this stuff to you?”

Adrien pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “…No?”

“No,” Luka agreed, reaching out to pat Adrien on the head. “You’re free to go whenever you want, Adrien. I would never keep you here against your will, but I think you do want to be here, and I want you here too, so I hope you’ll stay.”

Confusion slowly overtook Adrien’s expression and he found himself asking the question that had been in the back of his mind all day: “Is all of this for real?”

Luka’s eyebrow arched questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Adrien swallowed and motioned around them. “All of this. Is this really…free? No strings attached? You really don’t want anything from me? You’re not expecting me to do anything to pay you back?”

Luka shook his head, giving Adrien what he hoped was a calming smile. “Completely free,” he assured. “No strings.”

Adrien frowned harder. “Sorry. I just…I know you’re telling the truth. I know I can trust you. I do trust you. I just haven’t been able to trust anyone in a long time, so this is really hard for me to just accept all of your kindness.”

Luka nodded, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Adrien, not even able to trust his own family. “It’s okay. I’m not offended or anything. You’ve been through a lot, and even though I have no way of really understanding that, I respect it.”

Adrien swallowed, hesitating before confessing, “People have tricked me before. People have pretended to be nice, but they weren’t actually nice. I know you’re not like that, but…people who have been nice to me have always expected things I’m not interested in giving, so I’m just kind of anxious because people get mean when you tell them no after they’ve been nice to you.”

Luka’s jaw dropped, and fear surged up into his chest. “Adrien,” he gasped. “Are you okay? Did someone…?”

Adrien shook his head rapidly. “No. No. I mean…not successfully. I’m fine. Just…you know. Close calls. It’s made me painfully aware of how vulnerable I am, though.”

He winced. “It made me realize how dangerous it can be for someone whom no one cares about. If something happened to me, no one would come looking or ask questions. It’s scary once you realize no one’s looking out for you. It makes you hesitant to trust people.”

Luka stepped forward, pulling Adrien into a hug. “Well, it’s not like that anymore, so you don’t have to be scared. You have friends here. Old ones you just need to reconnect with and new ones like Josie and Jacob and Marc. You’re safe, Adrien.”

Luka pulled back to look Adrien in the eye to make sure he was hearing what Luka was saying. “And this is your home now, not just mine. That room is your room. I’m not going to barge in uninvited or mess with your things. That’s your space, and you have door-locking privileges. Same goes for the bathroom. I want you to feel safe here.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Adrien assured, smiling peacefully as he rested his head on Luka’s shoulder and gave him a grateful squeeze. “Sorry I’m kind of busted up. The world is sort of mean.”

“I know. Don’t worry. Everyone is a little busted up in some way or another. It’s not just you,” Luka informed.

“Thanks,” Adrien sighed as he pulled away. “Now go get some rest. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

A peal of laughter took Luka by surprise. “That is exactly what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

“I’ll bet.” Adrien smirked. “Go sleep.”

“What are you going to do?” Luka had to wonder.

“Monopolize your bathtub for at least an hour and then watch anime on my phone,” Adrien answered without batting an eye.

“You like baths?” Luka snickered. “Why am I just now finding this out about you?”

Adrien shrugged, his smirk growing wider. “My bathtub was one of the few things I loved about my previous domicile, and I’ve been deprived of baths for nearly five years at this point. Please take this as notice that I’m annexing your bathtub.”

“Fair enough,” Luka conceded without a fight, amused at the simple things that could bring Adrien pleasure.

“Also, I take long, hot showers, so prepare for your water bill to skyrocket,” Adrien warned.

“Noted.” Luka relaxed as Adrien seemed to become more and more comfortable making himself at home by the minute.

“And I’m going to need your Netflix password,” Adrien added to the list of demands.

Luka winced. “I don’t have Netflix.”

Adrien stared, blinked, and then cocked his head to the side. “…What?”

Luka rolled his eyes and pointed to the credit card on the counter.

Adrien looked at the card and then back to Luka. “Really?”

“Go crazy,” Luka assured. “Anything else?”

Adrien thought for a moment. “Not at present.”

“Okay. Night, night, Perfect Fifth.” He gave Adrien’s hair a tussle for good measure and turned to go.

“Good night, Orpheus,” Adrien called after him, resurrecting his own old nickname for Luka. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Luka echoed, savoring those words.

[fucnhg-slee-p]

Food fights

Robert Pattinson x reader

Prompt: rob sucks at cooking and it gets messy

Warnings: horribly written smut and a bunch of fluff

A/n: this is purely for entertainment

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Every once in a while robert would try to cook dinner, full well knowing he was not good at it whatsoever but his effort is what really mattered. Sometimes whatever he made would actually work out the way he had hoped and would be shockingly delicious. Regardless of how it tasted you still ate whatever he made, laughing over it together.

Tonight was one of those nights where he was feeling experimental and wanted to try cooking something he hadn’t tried making before. He found a recipe for vegetable lasagna recently and decided tonight was the night to cook it. While he was preparing you decided to bake brownies

You silently worked in the kitchen together for a while before he started giggling. “I- i really have no idea what I’m doing here” he was making the noodles from scratch for god knows what reason. “Do you need some help?” You giggled. “No I’ve got it covered, love”. He always wanted to do it on his own. “Let me know if you change your mind” you said returning your focus to your batter.

“Aha! I did it” He had eventually got something that at least looked like lasagna noodles. The kitchen was a disaster and he was covered in flour. “What’s the next step?” You asked. “Now i layer it i think” he said washing his hands. You hummed in response and finished putting on your oven mitts to put the brownie pan into the oven. He walked up to you slowly and gave you a small kiss as he dipped his finger into the batter, instead of eating it like you thought he would, he rubbed it on your cheek. You gasped “rob! Ew” you both laughed. You retaliated by copying his actions and rubbing some batter on his face, then proceeded to put your mitts back on and put the pan in the oven.

He then got some of his vegetable sauce and splashed it on you “robert! You’re wasting the food!” You grimaced and wiped off as much as you could “this is disgusting”. He just laughed “fine. If thats how you wanna do this.” You grabbed the cooking oil and poured it on his head. Your smug look faltering into laughter. He got the bag of flour and dumped it on you, you picked up handfuls of it from the floor and threw it at him.

The laughter abruptly stopped When the oven beeped indicating that the brownies were done, you both looked over to the oven with wide eyes, then back to each other, laughing again. Both of you were covered in all kinds of food at this point. The lasagna wasnt even in the oven yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both of you sitting on the kitchen floor eating brownies, covered in everything that was in the kitchen. waiting for the lasagna to finish cooking you smelled a burnt smell “rob? What’s that smell” you said as you took a bite of your brownie. “Uh..i think its the lasagna” he quickly got up and opened the oven, smoke flying out. “Get the oven gloves!” He coughed. You quickly handed them to him “didn’t you set a timer?”

“..no” he coughed again. You laughed.

The food finally cooled down so you put it into plates and sat at the table. “I hope all this mess was worth it” you laughed and took a bite of the completely burned mess. The only taste it had was char, absolutely no flavor otherwise. You hummed “nope” you both started laughing and ate what you could of it, I’m sure it actually would have been decent if not for it being a chunk of charcoal.

You cleaned the kitchen together pretty quickly considering how messy it was. “Ok so who’s showering first?” You asked. “I was thinking me, definitely” he said with a straight face

“i was actually thinking it should be me..” you gave each other a look and both ran to the bathroom while taking your clothes off as fast as you could before the other. You made it there first turning the water on as robert got there. “I’m going first!” He moved you out of the way to get in. “No! I am” you tried moving him but he picked you up and got in the shower with you in his arms. he let you down but still held you, The demeanor in the room changed as you sat in each other’s arms under warm water. “I love you, liz” he stated softly, staring into your eyes. Grabbing the soap and turning so that you were more under the water. “I love you too”. He started washing your back and you hugged him, for one to help him reach your back but also it just felt right to hold onto him tighter, Your head buried into his chest.

You washed each other silently for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek he littered your whole face with kissed until he finally kissed your mouth, one chaste kiss. Then another, and another, and then he kissed you again but this time it lasted longer and felt more intimate, he eventually pulled away breathless

You both sighed in content, smiling at each other. he leaned down and started kissing your neck softly.

You ran one hand down his chest as he continued, your other hand winding itself into his hair, you whimpered slightly as he moved down your collar bone, he suddenly stopped and reached behind you, turning the water off and grabbing a towel.

After you both dried off you got out and headed into your shared bedroom. You got into bed and he followed, he pulled you into him and held you in his arms. “I’m glad we cooked today” he sighed happily. You smile, pulling yourself up to look at him “me too” you said, leaning in to kiss him. It started off soft and slow until he moved so that you were under him, deepening the kiss in the process.

He ran his right hand up and down your torso gently as he moved his mouth to your neck again, you moaned as he kissed the same spot from before, now slightly sore with a hint of a bruise starting to form. His hand found its place on your breast, squeezing gently as he lowered his mouth to replace hand, now using his left on your other breast as he licked your nipple softly, then blowing on it for a moment and sucking it as he continued to massage the other.

“Rob” you whimpered, desperate for more as he worked you up. “Yes, love?” he pulled away from your chest with a smirk, knowing exactly what you wanted. “I need you” you whispered.

“Soon, darling. I’m not done playing with you” he teased and he moved lower down your body. His breath fanning over you. So close. His lips grazing over where you needed him. He kissed your thigh, drawing this out as much as possible, leaving marks along where he kissed.

“Please” you begged. He quickly obliged as he kitten licked along your folds a few times before stopping at your clit and sucking gently, then inserting two fingers inside of you, “you’re soaked, baby.” He smiled “is that all for me?” He asked as he leaned back into you and started working his tongue again. “All for you” you moaned out.

You were so close, he could tell by the desperation in your moans and whimpers, and by the way you were clenching around his fingers. He pulled away just before you came and you whined at the loss of his touch.

He was back to your mouth, he kissed you softly, He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours as he lined himself up with your entrance. “I love you so much” he whispered and kissed your forehead. You held his face “i love you more” your sentence ended with a soft moan as He entered you.

His pace was slow and steady. It felt so intimate. Neither of you wanted it to end, you felt like you were in a bubble. You kissed him and ran your hands down his back.

“I’m close” you moaned. “Me too. come with me” he whispered as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, his pace getting faster and sloppy. You reached your climax together, his cum filling you. you sat in each other’s embrace for a moment, Catching your breath.

Eventually he pulled himself off of you and got a towel to clean you both up. “That was wonderful”.

he hummed in response “its always wonderful” he smiled.

He put the towel away and got back into bed pulling you into his arms as you both fell asleep.

[trials-by-blood]

Umm...I always see Yautja being paired up with someone strong and skilled and stuff. I was wondering if you could write something with any Yautja being with someone who is shy, meek, and a little chubby. And when they're alone or think they are they sing along to music and dance even though they can't.XD Sorry if I'm asking too much or anything...

Fegris, the dump world where the unwanted are left to rot and crumble.

  This was once a world where the yautja would crash their obsolete vessels so that they could not fall into use by the other space faring races. Ships were not the only things they left behind. Exiles, heretics, or anyone who upset the balance of their society were also left to wither, but not all did.

  In the following ages, other peoples would use Fegris as a place to forget their burdens. The Faceless Ones unloaded their collected specimens here when science deemed that their time of usefulness had ended.

  Now generations of humans, yautja, clade, mind eaters and all manner of invasive species build their cities here, clinging to half remembered mockeries of their mother cultures. Here, all Forgotten busy themselves mining ore, seeking pleasurable escape, stripping precious metals from ancient wrecks, gambling, farming, extorting, building, destroying, breeding, killing.

  One of the few honest livings to be made anywhere, the food service industry, prospers here. Organic people must eat, so this work will never die.

  Heather, an old name from an old world no one can recall, worked for her room and board at what would best resemble a mall food court. It wasn't a particularly hazardous occupation, so long as you don't taste-test the food or stay long after the coalition of retail outlets close.

(OOC: Okay this ran WAY longer than I anticipated and I had to make the choice to cap it off at 2,500ish words. I’m sorry if this TOTALLY misses the vibe you were hoping for, I kinda got carried away. Oops)

  Once, she'd made that mistake. Even her cold hearted rock-sucker of a boss told her not to bother finishing the cleaning if it meant staying after hours, but she hadn't listened. Heather hadn't wanted to leave her work half done and risk losing her job and newly acquired living space on her first day. So she'd stayed to wipe down the counters and load the trolly cart with the leftovers for the cooler. The reward for a job well finished was stepping out into the market spaces abandoned by customers and workers but repopulated by the local Yautja Bad-bloods and their rivals, The Cranium Skaggers. They were working through a territorial dispute.

  The Skaggers were human, but barely. They injected enhancement serums, most barely tested, directly into their brain tissues via an implanted port installed at the top of their shaved heads.

  Heather had stepped out of her safe enclosed little work area into a street brawl, and was pinned between the doors she'd only just locked and the carnal violence of the city. One of the yautja, who's vision was... not like hers, must have mistaken her bright heat signature and rapid heart rhythm for a Cranium Skagger.

  Oh, she tried to run when she saw him move on her with his unhuman, talon tipped hand outstretched to seize her. Heather had dropped her bag, the keys, the silly hat which matched with her uniform, and she ran but he was fast, so horridly fast for something so big, heavy, and grieved with bulky armor.

  It only took him three strides, thud thud thud, to reach her and tangle his terrible claws into the back of her long tunic. She was thrown, landing hard, disoriented and crying out as deep, raw pain shot up her left hip and into her pelvis. Something was broken.

  She saw him, her attacker, and the blades attached to his dominant arm glistening with the blood of Cranium Skagger's, but she didn't even think to cover her face. All she could do was scream for help.

  Her plea was answered. A great clawed fist smashed across the Yautja's mask with such force that his yowling face was revealed as his helm was torn from him. Next, skulls collided with a clapping of flesh so sharp, Heather thought someone had cracked a whip above her.

  One Yautja had begun to fight another. That was when she did the sensible thing, curling her arms over her head and making herself as small as she could.

  She survived that night. That battle resolved itself as she lied on the ground trembling and weeping in terror, but her savior stuck around after all the others had left. He put her things next to her, and waited until her boss came to collect her and get her help. The yautja must have gone through her communicator for her contacts.

  The fractured hip was easily and painlessly repaired but the procedure had completely drained her savings. To her shock and mild horror, someone had wired to her account credits in the exact amount to replace what she'd spent at the Urgent Intervention Facility to fix her leg.

  When she returned to work, who was there at the food court? The yautja who'd stayed that night. He stood out like a broken finger, the cleaned hand bones and torn out skull ports of Skaggers littered about what he wore like grim badges of honor. The sight of him watching her enter her workplace sent a chill up Heather's spine.

  This kept up for weeks, until The Indecent was months behind her. She'd go to work, and he'd be there, just watching. Heather's co-workers weren't fans of her admirer. Yagon, the young clade boy who took the morning shift before her was the least fond of the yautja lingering around.

  Today, as Heather stepped past her bad-blood observer who had decided to lean against the wall next to the employee entrance, Yagon was peeking out from the door to keep a watchful eye on her as she came in for her shift.

  Yagon chittered irritably, antennae vibrating as he took off his smock and hat so he could scratch his double claws at the translator hanging on a lanyard around his the joining of his head and thorax.

  The voice emanating from the little box was monotone and purposefully slow so that it could be heard clearly as he continued chirping and tweeting.

  "You know what that creep does all day waiting for you to come in? He listens to recordings of you singing on your shifts."

  Heather cringed. That was creepy. She'd had a feeling that he'd been able to hear her sing to herself from where he usually hung around, but she never thought he'd record her. It felt incredibly invasive. She briefly imagined confronting him about it, but thought better of it. He could crush her skull between his hands as if it were a brittle little Skitterling egg. She hunched her shoulders and hugged herself a bit.

  Yagon then turned and dropped the claws of his primary arms on her shoulders.

  "I can file an anonymous report for you. Please? I don't want to come in to work one day and find out something happened to you."

  Heather sighed, trying not to vividly imagine how an exiled yautja might retaliate to that.

  "N- no, I think that would just make things worse, Yagon," Heather tried not to whimper.

  Yagon finished folding his smock and hat into his bag and left, but not before offering twice more to file that report.

  A few hours passed and Heather caught herself singing a handful of times as she fell into her work routine but always stopped when she remembered who was listening. It felt awful, being observed so closely and denied the personal freedom do anything without fear of having it recorded for some stranger's entertainment.

  Again, she thought about confronting the yautja watcher, but couldn't help the violent catastrophes imagined with the idea.

  She felt like she couldn't make a noise or do a thing for herself to make this crappy job the least bit bearable without putting on some bizarre show for Captain Cranium Crusher out there! Heather's frustration built and built until she couldn't take it anymore.

  The walk-in cooler. It was sound proof, right? The moment she finished the lunch-rush line of customers holding out their trays for their greasy food, Heather tore off her gloves, tossed them in the general direction of the trash chute and turned on her heel to stomp her way to that cooler door.

  Heather glanced over the counter to confirm the Skull Collecting Jerk was still out there haunting the seating area. There he was, arms crossed against his chiseled chest, ass planted on a chair that could barely hold his weight with his big ugly sandled feet propped up on one of the tables. Bastard.

  She pulled open the thick insulated door and slammed it behind her. First she simply bellowed angrily, stomped her foot, slapped a bag of single serve condiments as hard as she could manage, doing anything to break the severe edge from her frustration.

  "UGH! WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" She tore off her work smock and threw her hat on the floor to stomp on it, "I'M JUST A SHORT, ROUND, NOBODY WHO SHOVELS SLOP ONTO PLATES SIX HOURS A DAY. I'VE NEVER EVEN BEEN IN A REAL FIGHT! I'M NOTHING! WHY ARE YOU WATCHING ME? WHAT THE FUCK COULD BE SO INTERESTING ABOUT ME?! STOP WATCHING ME, YOU ASSHOLE!"

  Then, spitefully, she sang her favorite song, watching the misty puffs of her breath dissipate as her heart pounded.

  Now, she felt cold and her throat hurt from belting out her very favorite lyrics so harshly. It wasn't fair, she shouldn't have to be reminded of that night every afternoon on her shift. It sucked, and somehow she felt guilty for being angry even though none of this was her fault and she knew she had every right to be angry. So Heather curled up and cried in the cooler for a half-hour at the helplessness she felt. It felt gross, and she knew by now there had to be a never-ending line of pissed off customers outside. She was afraid of confrontation and couldn't ever imagine herself actually standing up to anyone. She could already tell that she'd be crying in her apartment after work too. Whob wouldn't after the verbal abuse she'd no doubt suffer at the service counter from customers tired of waiting.

  Miserably, Heather stood and steeled her resolve to go back out there. With a deep, shaky breath, put her smock back on and fixed her hat.

  "I'll get through it because I'm good at getting through it," she told herself to make it easier to reach for that door.

  Chur-clunk. Chur-clunk. It was jammed. Oh no the cooler door was stuck. Heather put her weight into her next push, then her entire being into the push after that.

  "Oh GODS I'm going to freeze to death!" she wailed, pushing at the door again with everything she had.

  Frustration, anger, helplessness, now panic. She didn't want to die alone of hypothermia at work.

  There was a bang and a great dent had appeared in the thick door. Before she could figure what was happening, the door was torn completely from the reinforced hinges. Heather shrieked and fell squarely on her bottom.

  There he was again, who else would it be coming to her rescue and staring coldly down at her through the dead lenses of that helmet.

  In one swift motion he lifted his left arm and clicked away at the keys of his gauntlet computer with those claws. The hologram display showed Heather a collection of files marked with icons she recognized. They were just cropped, slightly fuzzy pictures of her name tag for work. With a few more taps of his claw, all of the icons dissolved. He deleted them. He'd deleted all of his recordings which pertained to her.

  "Oh, shit, you heard all of that," Heather whimpered, clutching her head with both hands in mortification. He must have heard what Yagon said earlier too.

  He said nothing, made no noise. He just stood there like an imposing statue for a few tense seconds before turning to stride away.

  She wasn't fired for the broken door and spoiled food. Before she could even collect herself from the floor in the cooler, her boss was wired a credit transfer for "damages".

  Later as she heard of his generosity, it also explained the mysterious funds appearing in her account after the hip procedure. That had been Him too.

  Her "admirer" didn't come back after that, which was a relief for the first week or two. After a while she found herself over thinking the whole thing. Yautja were notorious for being socially incomprehensible. Heather wondered if he just pitied her so much after one of his own kind damn-near destroyed her that he felt responsible for her continued safety. Or, maybe he was just a stalking sleeze-ball. She tended to flounder between the two conclusions, but one thing was certain, he was respecting her boundaries now and she appreciated that.

  After nearly a month, she decided that the best closure she'd get was accepting that the entire ordeal was some bizarre misunderstanding, totally on his part, and he did a few nice things but that didn't make up for the weeks and weeks of discomfort he'd inflicted.

  More time passed, Heather became more comfortable with her new job, and she very nearly forgot about that Yautja. The only time she remembered him were on cold days when her hip would ache, but it was pleasantly warm out on the afternoon she came in for her shift and found Yagon agitated with his antennae twitching so fast one might expect them to fly off his head. Heather looked around, hoping that the cleaning she couldn't finish the night before hadn't upset him. What she found was... Unusual, and she certainly hadn't left the thing there last night.

  It was a skull, from what she wasn't sure, sitting there on the counter by the check out scanner.

  "The Creep is back. This time he left a name with that." Yagon's translator couldn't read the inflections in his speech, but Heather could tell where the translator omitted expletives.

  "W-hat was it? His name?"

  "Stone Fist was the direct translation. I can't get the translator to say the correct pronunciation in his language and he made a scene about it until I threatened to call security. You know what that thing means, don't you?"

  Heather nodded, she knew what it meant. Everyone did. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the empty sockets of the skull. It was as if it were staring through her being.

  "I can still file that report, Heather," Yagon offered again.

  "Don't, I mean... As long as I don't take it, then nothing happens. Right?"

  "As far as I'm aware? I think that's how it works."

  If Heather didn't touch it, he wouldn't come back. If she took it home, he'd follow her home because accepting an offering like that was an act of giving permission to pursue courtship.

  Working with that lifeless skull watching her was eerie to say the least. She covered it with her hat midway through her shift so she didn't have to look at it. At the end of her shift as she fiddled with the patterned key to lock up before she left, she considered the skull one last time. No, She wasn't taking it, but she'd leave a note. Two notes actually, one to ask Stone Fist if he would consider an actual conversation before anything else, and a second note to apologize to Yagon for asking him to speak with Stone Fist again.

To Be Continued?

[alabasterswriting]

@jasontoddiefor How dare you write something so wonderful and then leave me to stew in my ideas. Shared custody works for me, but let it be known that Kath’resi Ahrarak belongs to you. Playing in the sandbox from this work.

Master Feemor did not blow the dinner, which is good because otherwise Kath’resi would have had to resort to stealing his new little cousin and that would be very un-Jedi-like behavior. Usually, that wouldn’t bother him, but he has to be especially Jedi-like now because Anakin doesn’t know very much and it would be very bad manners to teach him the wrong things.

But the dinner goes off without a hitch. Master Obi-Wan (the Sith Slayer!) even manages to relax enough that the bags under his eyes are little less dark and he smiles enough to show off his teeth. It’s a nice smile and it’s funny to see the way Anakin lights up whenever it’s directed at him. Not that Kath’resi is going to say anything against it. He likes when Master Feemor smiles at him too. But Anakin soaks up the attention like a sponge and he listens to their stories of the Temple and Master Qui-Gon (Qui-Gon! Gui-Gon Jinn is in his lineage!) with a sparkle in his eyes that is honestly adorable.

They say goodnight early because Anakin is still very young, and make plans for Kath’resi to show Anakin around the next day. Personally, Kath’resi thinks Anakin could have stayed up for another hour or so for him to show off his newest lightsaber move, but Master Yoda always says patience is important for a Jedi, and Kath’resi wants to be the best Jedi he can be in order to be a good role model for his new little cousin.

If only patience wasn’t so hard.

He goes to bed a little later than usual just because it’s so hard to fall asleep when there are so many things to look forward to. There’s the art room, of course, but how is he supposed to fit that in with the music room and the obstacle course and the planetarium and all the secret passageways? He doubts anyone’s show the boy the Clubhouse because Knights and Masters all pretend it doesn’t exist. There’s so much to show his new cousin and the thoughts swirl in Kath’resi’s head until eventually his eyes slide shut and the sounds of Master Feemor puttering about in the living room lull him to sleep. He dreams of gardens and laughter and a new bond forming in the back of his head, bright and fresh and vulnerable, and he wraps it up in a hug for no other reason than he thinks they need it.

It’s raining when he wakes. Coruscant has a very regulated weather system and rain has been on the forecast all month, but it still makes the day feel dreary and sluggish. The young Kiffar much prefers sunlight because it makes little rainbows along the hallways for he and his friends to hop on, but Master Feemor always says to make the most of everyday and Kath’resi is determined to do just that.

He races through his morning routine, brushing his teeth and fixing his braid in half the time it usually takes. Master Feemor only raises a brow and smiles behind his morning caf.

“You know Anakin’s still going to be there if you take the time to chew your food, right?” He asks, eyes twinkling as he looks up from the morning news scrolling across his data pad.

“Not if he tries to come to us first,” Kath’resi says around a mouthful of flatcakes. “He doesn’t even know where the art room is. If he tries to make the trek here from C-Block, he’ll get lost for sure.”

“I don’t think Obi-Wan would let him do that,” Master chuckles. “He said he’d have Anakin ready for you so no need to rush. We can’t have you choking and showing Anakin the Halls of Healing before you get to the fun stuff.”

Kath’resi isn’t going to choke, he’s sure of it, but better not to tempt Fate. He stuffs his face with more flatcakes, but leaves room to chew this time. Master shakes his head ruefully, but Kath’resi can tell it’s all in good humor. His master is nice like that.

A few moments later and Kath’resi is dumping his plate in the sink to deal with later. He’s done it before and Master Feemor knows he’ll absolutely clean it up when he comes back.

“Tell Padawan Skywalker I said hello, and remember to thank Master Obi-Wan,” Feemor states as Kath’resi laces up his boots. He stands, hip leaned against the couch, with a second mug of caf in one hand and his padawan’s outer robe in the other. Kath’resi isn’t sure he’ll need the outer robe, but better to present a respectable front when showing his new little cousin around.

Kath’resi stands and grabs the robe. “I will.”

“And be back before fifth hour. You still have to study for your exam.” Oh, right, the exam. The exam he’d already failed twice. That exam.

He screws up his face. “Do I have to?”

Unimpressed, Master Feemor says, “Yes. You do have to pass, padawan mine.”

“Yes, master.” Even though it’ll be a snow day on Tatooine when he passes.

Not wanting to spend any more time thinking about it, Kath’resi slips the robe on and scurries out the door. It closes with a soft click and then he’s hurrying as quickly as is acceptable to the C-Block apartments. It’s only a floor down, but there are enough turns involved that someone as new as Anakin would surely get lost. He’ll have to make sure his cousin memorizes the route in case he ever needs him.

The walk is uneventful, it being right in between the time most nocturnal Jedi are going to sleep and the diurnal ones are still waking up. And even Jedi are not immune to the sluggishness of dreary days. Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing in front of room C-0054-02, marked Kenobi and Skywalker. He knocks just loud enough for them to notice, but not disturb the other people in the hall and waits somewhat impatiently for them to let him in.

He doesn���t have to wait long. Master Obi-Wan (the Sith Slayer! And how wizard is that?) opens the door with a small smile and lets him in. Their room is the same as everyone else’s, but is littered with strange mix of droid parts and foliage. Anakin had said he liked the greenhouses, but it was one thing to like the greenhouse and another to make your own.

“Anakin,” Master Kenobi calls into the meditation room. “Padawan Ahrarak is here.”

There’s a distracted “‘Kay,” from the next room that leaves Kath’resi somewhat confused because he knows Anakin was excited to go exploring (was he excited or was he just faking it for their masters? Does he not like him? Did Kath do something wrong?), but when he looks up at Master Obi-Wan there’s no admonishment. Instead, Master Obi-Wan appears almost amused, in a sad, exasperated sort of way. Kath’resi’s forehead creases.

Master Obi-Wan places his hand on his back. “Why don’t you go see if you can draw him out while I grab his breakfast. Then you both can head out.”

Kath’resi’s confusion only grows because what would he need to draw Anakin away from? Meditation? Weird, but he supposes someone’s gotta like it.

The young padawan nods and with a shrug creeps across the room to the open arch that leads to the mediation pod. It’s the same as the one in his quarters; and open space with two cushions and white walls facing a large window that looks out onto Coruscant, but where he expects to see the nine-year-old meditating is just empty space.

Instead, the boy is sat cross-legged on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around a little potted plant as he presses himself as close to the window as he can get. His eyes are round and unblinking as he stares mesmerized at the falling rain, his little mouth open with a sort of awe Kath’resi only ever sees on the training salles.

He’s not sure what it is about the scene that makes him keep his silence, but as he tiptoes over to his new cousin, he uses every inch of Force control he possesses to keep his steps light. Anakin barely acknowledges him as he lowers himself along the carpet beside him. They sit there for a moment, the sound of rain pounding against the window the only sound to be heard. It’s nice, if strange. Kath’resi isn’t one for silence, but something about the utter awe on Anakin’s face makes it enjoyable.

A rumble of thunder echoes in the distance, and Anakin doesn’t so much jump as he lets out a little gasp of surprise. He leans forward, his nose pressing against the cold transparasteel and hugs the plant tighter.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, but too curious now to let up, Kath’resi whispers, “Have you never seen a thunderstorm before?” It seems mind-boggling to him, but why else would Anakin look like this?

Absently, the younger boy shakes his head. “No.”

“Really? Never?”

Anakin doesn’t even look away as he says, “No. There were simooms and sometimes we’d have thunder, but there was never rain. I didn’t...” he trails off, his little hand tightening around the plant as the other raises to place itself against the window as if he might be able to touch the droplets.

Kath’resi’s brow furrows. “You didn’t what?”

A pause and then, “I didn’t know there could be so much water in the galaxy. It just...falls. Right from the sky. Like a gift.”

A gift? Kath’resi’s never thought of the rain like that, but he remembers Anakin mentioning something about the desert last night, so maybe it makes sense. His gold eyes highlight on his little cousin’s hand as it presses against the window and he’s inexplicably struck by just how much of a big job he’s set himself up for. Anakin is enthralled with rain. He’s never seen a thunderstorm and he holds that little plant like a lifeline. He can’t make the fifteen minute walk between their rooms without getting lost and every single instance of the Force makes his eyes shine with wonder.

Mundane things, little things that Kath’resi has known his whole life, are suddenly new to this boy. He’s going to have to teach Anakin everything, not just some things like his friends teach their new lineage siblings. Can he do that? Can he really teach Anakin everything he needs to know?

Kath’resi isn’t sure. This isn’t just showing him the art room and the music room and the secret passageways. This is rain and grass and foods and whole languages. But Anakin’s eyes are shining. His awe fills the Force with a warmth that tingles Kath’resi’s spine. His breath mists against the window and his shoulder rests comfortably against his own.

No, Kath’resi isn’t sure, but as he sits there in the silence of the morning with Anakin’s glowing presence beside him and the soft patter of rain before them, he thinks he wants to find out. Exploring can wait; right now he’s content to sit with his friend and enjoy the rain.

[kaetastic]

YOUR EMPTY WORDS

pairing: Deceased!Regulus Black X Reader

summary: Regulus passing had left Y/N with creeping memories. Despite her attempts to warn his mess of an older brother, she had failed. Finally, her dead lover’s brother had met her once again.

word count: 3.2k+

warning: angst, mention of death, tears, denial, grief

note: NOT MY BEST WORK. Sorry, I haven’t been posting lately, I just finished my exams and though I read- my writing wasn’t that active. I’ve been feeling so empty with a hole inside of me, I feel like something’s wrong but I don’t know. Anyways, enjoy and take care 💕💓

A muffled force on the front door vibrated through the petite house. The faint fragrance of her freshly batch of sticky dough filled the air, a low hum produced by the oven as it heated the contents, a melody created by the ticking of the small timer that rested firmly onto the heating glass; the familiar smell coated her heart with joy as a short play of her past previewed itself in her head. The gluey lump connected her fingers like frail bridges that were pulled down as if a heavyweight stepped onto it. Her eyes glossed away from the counter that had been sprinkled over with flour, scattering as it prevents the ability for the dough to stick itself onto the area.

Nudging her head to peek below the overhead cabinets through the set of the wooden counter, shadows of feet blocked the sunlight as it plays a light show. The window had been closed with a curtain. That is how she liked it. It was no use if she had poked her head to take a quick glimpse of those who stood in front of the house for it was blocked by a tall-standing hedge. She cursed at her frequent memory loss of forgetting to remove it. How she always thought of doing it, to only end up not doing said-removing.  

“Just a minute!” She yelled out, frantically shaking her wrists over the sink, drips and strands plopped away to slam itself onto the walls of the vessel as it screamed a splatter. With a soft rinse, the leftover grease glazed her fingertips; nothing the apron couldn’t handle. The hurried wipes on the covered fabric left drag of her wet hands left a mark, like tracks of tires on a sludge of snow.

Shuffles of feet dragged across the vigorously clean floor with no left visible speck of dust, hard work clearly pays off. She cleared her throat, muttering short syllables words under her breath- wincing when it sounded too high. It was not often for her to have visitors nor guests, due to her detachment from society. She wore a widened smile, displaying her twinkling teeth. It lost. Corners of her lips quirked down like wilted flowers; pent up anger sipped through her. The discontent she had managed to stuff in a box jumped out as if the lock had cut open. The grip on the handle tightened at the face she wished she hadn’t met. The resemblance between him and his brother was too similar, she hated it. How dare he? Bringing up his face anytime he wanted. She gritted her teeth as her nostrils flared red, the prominent veins pulsed in her neck.

“I see you’ve taken the liberty and pack up all your chivalry to finally talk to me. What a delight isn’t it? Well, it was nice to see you,” Her hands flicked to slam the door shut with no hesitation, as if she had planned this a long time ago. Slight pride in her ignited at her wise choice. The only sound that echoed through the house was those emitted from the kitchen, the whooshes from the passing vehicles and the silence that placed itself between the trio and her. Not the sweet sound of the door meets the frame. Pent up rage prodded itself, if she was alone- with her own emotions, she could’ve fallen down on her knees and begged. Begged for the return of her fallen lover. However, it was accompanied. Sorrow didn’t come alone for it walked side by side with anger. The feeling she had to face all by herself to overcome the darkness that cowered over her.

In the corner of her eyes, she noticed another pair of heads that stood behind him. But the redness painted the background of Sirius. Maybe, just maybe- if he had come sooner, or if he was there to reassure of the loss of someone from both of their lives, she wouldn’t be so pressed or uptight about the situation. The sight of him sickened her. Narrowed eyes, she tried to ignore the poking words that desperately wanted to fall off her tongue. It took her a master to accept silence while her endless days of sleep as voices spoke to her, it had no mercy. The world had no mercy.

The tension between the two was so prominent, the passersby would glance at the woman who had her hair flared up with raging fire. The ball of aura that surrounded the pair waved thundering electricity. Even the youngest who wore round glasses pointed it out. He looked so familiar. But she couldn’t lay her finger on it. “What are you doing?” She stressed out every syllable, the grip she held on the door could’ve formed a dent, possibly cracked it in half if he managed to push her to the edge. Glancing at his foot that sat in between the frame and the door, preventing her ability to make a quick escape; a scowl formed on her lips.

Sirius’s untamed and wild hair matched well with his personality, crazy and on the verge of being labelled as a psychopath, or what the wizarding world has already named him as, a murderer. Or it was due to the fact it was windy. Nonetheless, she was sick of him. The brother of the man she loved had never bothered to check with her during the days all she wanted to do was let go. It was selfish for her to say that someone should’ve visited her regularly. But she had no one left.

Disappointment and frustration laced the air; a twinkle of content glittered in the space between them, “Please, hear me out Y/N.” She scoffed, she couldn’t help but be amused by his stubbornness and determination. As if she would do so. Arms crossed, she quirked an eyebrow at the wizard.

“What is there you could possibly say? Hm?” The papers of his face splattered on every wizarding walls she has walked by was being sharpened; ready to slither his throat. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be in Azkaban? Where you belong?” Sirius could not help but feel the drumming of his veins, a frail crack formed over his heart, that was emptied out by the hellhole he was forced to live in. Leaving nothing but blood pulsing out and all the joy he felt dumped out, sucked in by the grey creatures. Mouth gaped open, he was ready to speak out, to defend himself when someone had done so before he had the chance.

“Wormtail- Peter, I mean, was the one who killed those muggles, not Sirius.” With his string chord of a voice, he sliced the tension. Remus sent him a reassuring smile when he whipped his head back to face his long-life friend, his nearly only existing one. Harry glanced at the adults who stood in front of him with confusion stroked in his eyes, wondering with killing curiosity that terribly suffocated him.

Sirius cleared his throat to face the person he desired to sit with and talk about the thing that has been bugging him ever since. He couldn’t help but notice the glimpse of those who walked past, judging their choice of outfits for the sunny yet windy day, “Please Y/N, I beg of you. Let us in and we can talk.”

His voice irritated her. If she had to compare it to a sound, it would be like the screeching of fingers scratching a blackboard. Ever since Hogwarts, his voice was of nothing but whining, “Sirius is still considered as a vigilante, please?” If only the little kid wasn’t present, she would’ve slammed the door.

With a huff, she plopped herself onto the couch, the seat groaned at the abrupt addition of weight. Arms crossed with her back leaned onto the couch, her eyes narrowed towards the uninvited guests. She wouldn’t be in this situation if she would’ve just shut the door onto his face, just like he did with hers… and Regulus’. Although the unstable walls shivered, she had to be reasonable. Because that was how she had to cope with her farewell of her only lover.

  An ear-pitching screech from the timer rung through their ears but Y/N seemed unfazed, not flinching a muscle. The youngest of the group glanced at the open kitchen, towards the, what he hoped would be the silence breaker. As if she could feel the annoyance that twitched in him, she raised an open hand in the air- twirling her fingers without turning back to even glance at what she was doing. Harry stared in awe. The sight of floating utensils flew from one side of the kitchen to the other, some moved around, clashing with the metal sink before soft rinsing of water washed the dirty tools. ‘Magic is brilliant’ thought Harry. Even though being a wizard himself, he couldn’t help but feel his heart rise with light amusement. Harry watched as the door of the oven opened ajar- a tray pulled out, littered on it were treats and baked goods worth salivating for.

The still Hogwarts’ student flinched as a tray made its way to rest on the coffee table that separated the group. Somehow wary if she would poison him, Sirius reluctantly leaned forward to grab one of the filled glass. His sips laced with the sounds that echoed out of the kitchen as if someone was actually partaking in working in the kitchen.

   Remus couldn’t help it. He had already scanned the room. He hoped no one saw. He wasn’t nosy, just curious; he liked to call it as so. It felt like home. It was her home. There were marks that seemed sentimental or lovable. Cabinets with glass as a transparent material allowed the displayed items to show itself, a twinkling gold ball glittered into his eyes, Remus winced at the abrupt beam. She was never part of Quidditch. He remembered he had seen her sit on the field many times when teams were participating, he had never saw her on a broom. So he jumped to the right conclusion, it wasn’t hers.  

The throb of his heart was something he couldn’t ignore when his eyes landed on a framed photo of a grinning couple, who seemed to be the happiest on the world… as if nothing was against them.

  “So? Speak.” She knew she was being harsh, she knew she should’ve controlled the slash of her tongue. But if someone was to avoid you for years, when all you wanted was to sit with them- to converse with one another. To set a base, a foundation, she wasn’t at fault if she said her frustration got the worse of her. Sirius nodded, he cleared his throat as his mind formed the words he desperately wanted to speak out.

“Well, first off, I- uh, wanted to say sorry..,” A scoff fell of her lips at his words. That felt empty and worthless at such time. His eyes twitched, worry angered in his chest. Not wanting to misunderstand him, he did not hesitate to continue his words. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you- when my brother left. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I was a mindless idiot!”

“I’m sure you still are.” Sirius ignored her comment.

“I was selfish… for two years you tried to talk to me, but all I did was ignore you.” His head fell down as his shoulders hunched in disappointment, forehead resting on his palm, massaging his temples in an attempt to eradicate the stinging tension.

A slight tinge of satisfaction grew in her chest when she heard the words she had been hoping for, dreaming of. The whole time she thought it would be over, the closure to her story, it wasn’t. It did not feel like the end of a chapter, it wasn’t her closure. There were too many words caught in her heart, all stuffing the chambers which bled., “How about your brother?”

Sirius snapped up to face her, confusion laced his eyes, the windows to the soul they say- if it was true, all anyone would be able to see were the joy memories he had, taken away by the monsters that walk on the floors of the prison, “Huh?”

The corners of her lips quivered at the thought of having a murderer sitting in her house, “Have you ever thought about him? His death? Have you ever mourned for his fall? You haven’t!” Remus was quick to shoot up to try his best to hold her down, his heart ached when she trembled, sobbing her tears that she had been familiar with ever since.

Although he had to maintain as the emotionally stabled one, the years he spent in Azkaban felt forever, it got him, “I have! He is my brother!” He couldn’t help but feel accused on as a finger was pointed at him. It was like the past all over again.

“You chose your friends over him!” It was true, ever since Sirius had been kicked out of the Blacks family- she had never seen him try to talk to his younger brother. The only time they conversed was the day after Sirius ran away to the Potter’s, she could still feel the silence had echoed through the great hall. It was merely a short one. But other than that, they were like strangers; who once had been so close, where the lingered strings were snipped off, the only connection that held frail between them.

Sirius had his own pride too, he was exhausted of being the one to blame ever since the accusation of the murders, without a thought, he yelled back with no attempt to cower the anger away, “He chose the dark side! How about you? You’ve walked willy nilly across the school, stuck to him! Surely you’ve too!”

Remus snapped his head to his friend, who panted with popped out veins, jaw clenched with crashed eyebrows. The body he held in his arms twitched, if it wasn’t for him- she would have crashed down and slumped onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. Her body goes limp. She tried to find comfort in it. The tremble in her voice flipped the cards of hearts upside down, “He was 18, and we were engaged. Where were you?”

His mouth fell to falter open at the overwhelming words that had summarized everything. The sentence that he had formed in his head now diminished at lost. Where was he?

“While you partied away from the house… he left. And though I tried to talk to you… it seemed like all the love you had for your little brother, didn’t even exist,” Silence now covered the house, no sound made by the kitchen as a heart ached. “Yes he chose the wrong side, but he did something you will never be able to, Sirius,”

Harry rested his gaze on her, “He was a man of his own words.” The two figures who were present understood none for only the two did. It finally struck him after realizing what she was going on about, Sirius’s eyes widened with sorrow, at the promise he had made with his little brother. Like a swirl of memory, hurricanes of grey twirled to his past, ‘Sirius! When we grow up… could you be my best man?’ The lightness that was familiar to his chest rose. ‘Of course Regulus.’

His face dulled, dragged down with no reflection in his eyes. ‘It used to be so simple.’ Ear pricking honks from the road echoed through the cracks of the house. No one spoke. The student finally raised his voice, still unsure if it was the right time to speak out for the reason they had paid her a visit, “We came to ask you… if you could help us with this…”

Time stopped. The pulse of transportation in her veins halted when they couldn’t believe what was truly left to display for her. Her lips met each other in confusion, but a sense of shock sent through her spine as her fingers brushed over the scrunched up piece of paper. The creases that were harshly folded seemed neat but the valleys between each quarter formed a river. River of her tears at the familiar handwriting. Her loud sobs filled the hurried air, quick to rest beside her was Remus who was ready to embrace her, softening her fall to the couch.

She thought the pain was over even if his belongings rested on her walls. She thought if she had a mutual understanding with the farewell. Who could’ve thought the sight of his writing stroke a heartstring?

“Of course I’ve seen him, I’ve seen him in front of me… I remember it like it was yesterday, cold and empty. In his presence, all I could call him was ‘My Lord’, words I wished I had never spoken.” The mumbles that fell of her lips were only audible if you say right next to her, the reason why Harry was glancing at the two men with confusion. He stroke them beams of signals, hoping they would get it and pass the message on. However, they never really bothered as they were so focused on her story.

“Did you… get the mark?” Y/N’s head looked up with slight reluctant, unsure if she should tell the story.

“I didn’t… he did. We had a fight and we stopped talking for a while, but, we always found each other after every petty thing,” She wore a faint smile that glinted with joy at the past memory, his face had been painted on the walls of her mind; she was afraid he would be nothing but a vivid dream. So she thinks about him often. “You-Know-Who didn’t mark me as he knew of my value. I had nothing, even though I came from a pureblood family,”

Harry met her gaze, “I had no one. When Regulus left, I had no one. I was alone,” The corners of her lips twitched at the tug of her heart. “He was so young when he left,” Her eyes fazed to the piece of paper between the student’s fingers. “He- he told me of his plans… but now, it’s just hazy. I don’t remember anything,”

Disappointment engulfed her heart as their eyes lit up with hope, glinted with content if they were able to get their next goal, diminished into pouts. “I’m sorry, I was of no help.” 

Harry’s eyes softened onto her fingers which would not stop but caress itself, her anxiety was exuding and prominent, “Thank you, for sharing your side of the story,” Remus grinned, hoping it wasn’t seemed force, it would be the last thing he would want her to assume. His fingers clasped her shoulder, reassuring her. “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to owl me.”

Although she had lost, she had gone through the harsh levels of grief, denial and the depression that cowered over her- leaving her numb and empty; her vessel dumped with bouncing emotions, she had no one to talk about it to. No one. But now, she did. If she lingered the emptiness and the anger she held against Sirius- she would have to live with it. She wanted it no more. Y/N deserved happiness.

[dontlikedarkness]

The Good Side

Courtney hated a lot of things - losing, cowards, overthinking - but there was little she hated more than break-ups. They were messy, and she didn’t do messy. There was the trouble of deciding who got what, which pictures to burn and which to tuck away in a little drawer for when things didn’t hurt so much; how to cut someone loose who had been a part of her life for so long. There was no clean way to go about it. She couldn’t just block him, not when they’d met each other’s parents, not when her favorite tee was still somewhere on his bedroom floor and her closet was littered with his lighters and his knives and probably his jeans. She didn’t want to see him while she was still hurting, but she wanted his stuff gone, and she knew he’d throw a fit should she dump all his paraphernalia on her doorstep for him to pick up.

She’d tried to think about it logically, to alienate herself from the situation and use that lawyer brain of hers to find a solution. She’d made list after list, pros and cons, venn diagrams, even a detailed, step-by-step plan of action so that neither of them would have to come into contact with the other. They were all scattered in crumpled little wads of ink and paper beneath her desk, the waste basket overflowing with them.

A part of her wished he were here. He would call her princess, kiss away her tears, and take the paper into the kitchen to burn over the stove. Out of sight, out of mind, he’d tell her, a shit-eating grin on his face when she tried to tell him off. He’d hold the flaming paper over his head while she jumped to grab it, and she’d get all huffy about the ash in her hair and on her counters and nice hardwood floors. He’d ruffle his hair to make it worse and flash her that wicked smile and say Look babe, you’re distracted. It worked. And she’d scoff all she wanted, but there’d be no hiding the tiny smile that bloomed on her face. Everything would be okay.

Except it wasn’t. He was gone, even if his presence lingered. She moved her hand to brush a stray hair from her face, grimacing at the cigarette burn it had been covering. She’d bought him an ashtray to keep at her place, but he’d insisted the burns would give her desk character. A reminder of his chaos, to comfort her when he couldn’t.

She sighed, moving to her bed in an attempt to escape him. She tucked her arm under the pillow and rolled to face her window, a violent sob wrenching itself free when she realized that her sheets still smelled of him. Musky and sweet, like aftershave with a hint of her own perfume. It followed him everywhere, he used to complain. Like she was haunting him, so he wouldn’t forget his person. And he wouldn’t, he’d assured her.

They’d been sprawled on his roof, her head on his chest while they watched the stars. She pointed out her favorite constellations, and he called her a know-it-all, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing along her hip bone. He’d flipped her over so he could look at her and he’d smiled that secret, shy smile reserved for only his most tender moments. It was rare, and it showed a vulnerable side to him that she cherished deeply, knowing she was the luckiest girl in the world to get to see it. It’s you and me, Courtney, he’d told her, sliding a large, warm hand into her back pocket. It’s us against the world, forever and always. I’ll never let you go.

And she’d let herself believe those words, let herself believe his promise, because it was something she so desperately wanted. He’d known that. He’d used it against her, in the end.

You expect too much from me, he’d snarled, his tone cold and his eyes colder. You want to settle down. You’ve convinced yourself I’m a better person than I am, that I’m somehow worthy of you and your goals. I’m not that kinda person, princess. I don’t do long-term and houses and talks of marriage or kids. I’m not meant to be tied down. And then he’d left, the door slamming behind him with enough force to knock one of her pictures off the walls. He’d left her there, eyes watering, speechless, without another word. There had never been an official end to things - that wasn’t his style. He’d walked out on her, and that was that. He was gone.

She clenched her fists at her side, angry tears threatening to spill over. She sat up and chucked a pillow at the wall, a small glimmer of satisfaction rising in her when it hit a picture frame, dropping it to the floor with enough force that the glass shattered.

***

A month had passed, and she still couldn’t shake him from her mind. Her sheets had been washed more than once, his various possessions shoved into a box in the back of her closet, the cigarette burns and crude carving of their initials on her desk covered with a fresh coat of wood stain and a pencil holder, to hide the carving. Still his presence seemed to haunt her, as though it was imbued into the very foundation of her apartment. Everywhere she looked sparked some unwanted memory. Her stove-top brought about their one year anniversary, when she’d come home early from work to find him cooking for her, and she’d stood on her tippy-toes to wrap her arms around his neck and plant a kiss there. Her couch had a wine stain from New Year’s Eve, when they’d each been too wrapped up in the other to notice her drink slipping. All the pictures of him were gone from the walls, but she could still tell you which ones went where and exactly what they’d been doing when the picture had been taken. Even the door brought about a sense of hurt, like a splinter in a raw wound - an all too painful reminder that he had walked out on her, just like that. Without a second glance.

It didn’t take long for her to wind up on the floor of her closet, sobbing into an old shirt of his, the box of his things opened at her side. She couldn’t go on like this. Not surrounded by him.

She needed to put her energy into something else - so she did the only thing she could think of, and pulled up her lease agreement. She needed out, and chances were, it was a shoddy contract. Her landlord had never been the most competent man, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume that there would be a loophole. It was only a matter of time before she located it.

***

Boxes were scattered all across the apartment, some only partially filled, most with hastily scrawled labels to describe the contents. Usually she was more organized than this, but she had to move fast - the keys to her new place were coming in just a few days, and her landlord would have potential tenants coming in the moment she vacated the property.

There were a couple of boxes situated on her coffee table that she’d hoped to have out of the way by now, but she hadn’t been able to muster the courage to reach out until a few moments ago. She’d waited with bated breath for Duncan’s response, and when it had come, she’d shoved her phone away as though contact with it was toxic. It had taken her a great deal of breathing exercises and careful affirmations for her to finally read it. It’d been quite underwhelming, all in all. A simple “I’ll be there in thirty”. She’d expected some angry “why can’t you just drop it off” or something along those lines - she certainly hadn’t expected him to be willing to work with her.

Regardless, Courtney found herself perched near the doorway, drumming her fingers anxiously against one thigh. She was under no false pretense that they would just kiss and make up, but… it might be nice to see him. Just for some closure. Even if that “closure” resulted in the pair being at each other’s throats, anything would be better than the complete radio silence from his end. Anything. Or so she thought.

When the knock came, her heart caught in her throat. She had to be strong, she reminded herself, willing a steely resolve over her features. She took her time in opening the door, apparently long enough that Duncan had grown impatient and deemed it appropriate to ring the doorbell.

Upon opening the door, she became painfully aware of just how much of a mess she looked. Her hair had been hastily tied up so that she could clean, and her overalls were streaked with dust and white paint, from where she’d had to cover up the holes in the walls from their pictures. Normally she wouldn’t have cared, especially not for Duncan, but the girl standing there beside him was the picture of put-together. Not in an obvious way, but in a very ‘I just threw these on and accidentally looked good’ sort of way. Not like she’d made an effort when she’d tugged on her ripped jeans and her slouchy death metal tee, but like she just naturally fit them. She looked like she belonged next to Duncan, with her blue hair and her dark makeup and her piercings.

How had he moved on so fast? She couldn’t understand it, especially as she was still hurting. They’d spent two long years together, and here he was, hardly a month later with his arm around another woman’s waist. A part of her wondered if he’d been seeing her before they ever split - maybe he’d left because she wasn’t good enough; because he had someone better. It was a scary thought, but there was some merit behind it. How else could he have moved on that quickly? It didn’t make sense.

She shot a withering glare at the girl, and luckily she got the hint, disentangling herself from Duncan’s grasp and going to stand to the side. The girl offered Courtney a sad smile, and her heart broke all over again.

“Couldn’t wait to get away from me, huh princess?” He barked a laugh, taking in the apartment’s state of disarray.

It was all she could do to keep from slamming the door behind Duncan as he moved to grab his things from the coffee table. “Glad to see you’re doing so well,” she hissed, her words laced with venom. “Are you really that full of yourself? You just couldn’t wait to show her off to me. Well I get it, Duncan. Message received. Just grab your shit and go.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, and he dropped the larger of the two boxes back on the coffee table, turning to fix her with a piercing glare. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess. We were already out running errands when you texted, and I’m a gentleman. Didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

Suddenly she was all up in his personal space, one finger stabbing into his chest. The scathing look on her face didn’t go unnoticed. “You do not get to call me that anymore. I am not your anything, and I am certainly not your princess.” She took a deep breath then, her tone growing colder and colder until it seemed only ice and steel glittered back at him from within those ebony eyes of hers. “You fancy yourself a gentleman? Tell that to the next girl you walk out on without a word, only to turn up at her doorstep with another woman. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel, to see you there with someone else, so soon? No, that’s a stupid question. I should know by now that you, of all people, can’t feel so much as a shred of empathy.” Angry tears threatened to spill over, and she took a step back, crossing her arms as she did so. “God, Duncan, for all I know, you cheated on me with that girl.”

She turned and stalked towards the door, leaving him to collect his things before he could even finish processing what she’d said. She pulled the door shut behind her, heaving out a dejected sigh once she heard the tell-tale click that meant it was fully closed.

“Did you hear any of that?” She asked, slumping with relief when the girl shook her head to signify that no, she hadn’t heard anything. She offered her hand, returning that same sad smile she’d been given upon their arrival. “I’m Courtney. Despite what Duncan’s probably told you, I’m not a total psychopath.”

The girl accepted the handshake with a soft chuckle. “Gwen. And he hasn’t said much, honestly. Today’s the first I’ve heard of you.”

“Really?” Courtney cocked an eyebrow. If she hadn’t been certain before, she was now - those two years spent together had meant jack shit to Duncan.

She slumped against the door, waving away Gwen’s concerned glance. “Asshole walked out on me after two years, can you believe that? And he has the nerve to show up here, with you, and still act surprised that I’m moving. As if he doesn’t know why.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me moan about your boyfriend.”

Gwen shook her head, moving to seat herself next to Courtney. The two gazed out across the balcony for a while, comfortable in the silence, if a bit sad. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Gwen offered, after a few moments. “I know how this has to look to you. If I’d known…” she sighed. “I would’ve made him drop me off at home, y’know? Maybe you guys could’ve talked things over.”

It was Courtney’s turn to laugh at that. “Oh no, we still would’ve had a screaming match. Honestly, it’d probably have been worse than this. Maybe I should thank you for sparing me the trouble.”

The two shared a tentative smile, helping each other to their feet as Duncan emerged carrying a stack of boxes. “Princess -” he called, but she had already turned around and stalked inside. Gwen waved through the window, and she smiled, shutting the yet-to-be-packed curtains before she could make the mistake of watching them leave.

She couldn’t wait to be out of this place.

[llnwritings]

Square Filled: Doesn't Realize They've Been Injured Fandom: 9-1-1: Lone Star Title: Hidden Hurts Summary: Another day on the job, turns out bad for TK. Not that he knows. [ Read on Ao3 ]

TK didn't have time to tell anyone about the creepy text messages, because as soon as he walked back into the station the alarms sounded and he was rushed into the truck with the rest of the 126. The messages were completely put on the back burner as TK and the others focused on putting out a small barn fire.

TK and Mateo had been tasked with finding the last farm hand, that had been last seen cleaning out the horse stalls. They had made it inside with no problem, TK leading the duo.

So far, so good. Now they just needed to complete their task and all get out safely.

"Doing okay, Mateo?" TK asked over his shoulder, the probie still new to the actual dangerous parts of the job.

“Yeah,” Mateo replied with a smile.

“Help!” Someone yelled from the back of the barn, “Please! Somebody help me! I can’t move.”

“Where’d that come from, probie?”

Mateo concentrated on the calls, before pointing, “Back left stall.”

“Good job, Mateo.” TK congratulated him, before they made their way to the back of the barn, where the calls of help were coming from.

TK entered the horse stall and immediately spotted the farm hand, his body pinned under a fallen broken beam. Mateo came up behind him, looking around TK at the situation.

"Hi," TK smiled at the young teen, "My name's TK and this is Mateo," TK gestured to the probie, Mateo waving at the sound of his name, "We're here to get you out, so just hang tight. Can you tell me your name?"

The teen had dried tear tacks running down his cheeks and was blinking back even more tears, "'m Jack," He sniffed.

"Okay Jack," TK smiled and crouched down to get a good look at the fallen beam, "Other than your back, can you tell me if anything hurts? Can you feel your legs?"

Jack shook his head, “Nothing else hurts, I just can’t get out and I freaked out when I couldn’t move.”

“That’s good news, Jack,” TK smiled, “That means once we lift this beam, we can get you straight out of here.”

TK moved to one end of the beam and gestured to Mateo to go to the other end, “On three, Mateo and me are going to lift the beam, once you feel you can, move out from under there towards the door. Okay?”

Jack nodded, bracing himself for his moment.

“Mateo, you ready?” Mateo nodded, a look of determination on his, “Good, on three, lift it enough so Jack can get out, we don’t need to struggle and lift it too high. That’s just asking for trouble.”

“Right.”

“Okay, one!” Both firefighters crouched down.

“Two!” TK readjusted his grip.

“Three!” With a grunt, Mateo and TK lifted the beam high enough for Jack to crawl out from.

“I’m out!” Jack yelled out, “I’m out!”

“Awesome, now Mateo, we’ll move the beam back a bit and then we can get out of here.”

Mateo nodded, both firefighters shifted and placed the beam on the ground, further into the back of the stall. A sudden hissing sound filled the stall, Mateo frowned and glanced around for the noise, but he couldn’t find the source.

TK, on the other hand, did. There on the floor, very close to where Jack had been trapped, was a canister. It must have been hidden by the beam and now that the beam had been moved, it was making itself known. The canister shook violently, the heat of the fire affecting the gas inside.

TK’s eyes widened, “Mateo get down!”

Mateo, heeding the advice, dropped like a rock, his arms going up to cover his head. The top of the canister popped off like a cork and the expanding gas forced the canister airborne, straight towards TK.

TK attempted to drop to the floor as well, but reacted too slowly. Just as he dropped, the canister made contact, glancing off TK’s left side. The force flipped TK around and he landed on the floor on his back with a thud, his helmet flew off and TK’s head bounced off the ground hard. All while the canister continued on and hit the side of the barn, embedding itself there.

TK’s world went black, but only for a moment.

Blinking rapidly, TK fought through the haze that threatened to drag him under again. Shaking his head, to clear the cobwebs, TK dragged himself to a sitting position and reached out for his fallen helmet and put it back on his head. His heart was beating rapidly and TK could feel the adrenaline pumping throughout his body. Looking around, TK could still Mateo with his head down.

“All good, Mateo?”

At the sound of his name, Mateo peeked up. Looking around, the younger man could see Jack in the doorway and TK sitting across from him.

“I think so,” Mateo frowned, taking a catalogue of his body, nothing hurt, which was a good thing, “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” TK reassured his partner, he couldn't feel anything hurting, so he must have been fine.

“TK! Mateo!” TK’s radio crackled to life, Judd was on the other end, “How are you going in there? Do you have the missing farmhand?”

TK grabbed his own radio and answered, “Yeah Judd, we’re all good here. We found Jack and we’re making our way out now.”

“Okay, that’s good. We’ll see you soon.”

“Okay Mateo, let’s get out of here,” TK managed to get himself up to his feet without much difficulty and then pulled Mateo up as well, “How do you feel about walking Jack?”

“Um,” Jack bit his bottom lip in thought, “I think I’m going to need some help?”

TK and Mateo smiled at the teen, “That’s what we’re here for.”

Mateo and TK each hooked one Jack's arms over their shoulders and started the walk towards the exit. It only took a few minutes, before the trio made it out of the barn. The firefighters leading Jack to the waiting ambulance and handing him off to Michelle and her team.

"Lucky last," TK smiled at Michelle as he and Mateo sat Jack down on the gurney, "This is Jack, he was pinned under a fallen beam."

"Thanks TK," Michelle looked over Jack, "My name is Michelle, I'm going to be looking after you now. Can you tell me if anything hurts?"

"Do either of you two need looking over?" Tim asked.

"Nah, we're all good," TK smiled, clapping Mateo on the shoulder, "Right probie?"

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Mateo smiled.

“Okay,” Tim turned back to help Michelle out.

“Come on,” TK hooked his arm around Mateo’s shoulders and steered him back towards the truck, “Time for us to head back.”

----

Finally back at the station and TK was ready for his shift to be over. Leaving his boots and outer uniform in his locker, TK picked up some fresh clothing, his shower bag and headed towards the showers. His plan was to clean up and then head home to crash for a good 12 hours.

Humming to himself, TK was lost in his own world as he dumped his stuff on the bench. With a practised motion, TK pulled his shirt off and threw it towards his bag.

“What the fuck?!” TK jumped and turned around, when he heard someone yell behind him.

TK stared at Judd, confusion painted on his face, “What the hell yourself, Judd. What’s with the yelling?”

But Judd could only look in horror at the younger man’s back and shoulder through the mirror. TK’s entire back and shoulders were one large black bruise, numerous cuts and scratches littered the surface. Dried blood trailed down the back of TK’s neck, starting someplace in his hair and the whole left side of his chest looked like something heavy and circlaur had collided with it.

Judd took two steps forward and gently gripped TK’s upper arms and maneuvered the younger man to sit down on the bench. The whole time, TK tried to, unsuccessfully, bat Judd’s hands away.

“Probie!” Judd hollered out the open door, keeping a firm hold of TK as he squirmed in his hold.

Moments later, Mateo poked his head in, confusion painting his face, “If this is about the coffee machine, I didn’t . . . .” Mateo trailed off at the sight of TK, “What happened TK?”

TK frowned, “Judd’s acting weird.”

Mateo’s eyes widened, “But . . . Can’t you feel all that?”

“All wha-”

“Mateo,” Judd firmly interrupted, “Go get Michelle or one of her team. Bring them here, quickly,” Mateo didn’t move, his eyes not leaving the sight of TK chest, “Now! Mateo!” Judd yelled.

Mateo jumped at the level of noise Judd created, before turning on his heels and dashing out the bathroom.

“Don’t go scaring the kid Judd,” TK huffed, accepting that Judd wasn’t going to be letting go of him anytime soon, “So, what’s Grace going to say when I tell her you had your hands all over me?” He teased, trying to lighten the mood of the room.

“She’ll know it was for a good reason.” Judd was focused on trying to assess the damage to TK’s ribs, he pressed lightly on the darkest part of the circular bruising.

TK hissed in pain, “Oh, that’s new.”

Before TK could make sense of what Judd was doing, Mateo was back and he was nearly pulling the arm off a tired looking Tim, with his paramedic bag.

“Judd this better be good,” Tim sounded as tired as he looked, “I was just about to clock out. Your newbie couldn’t tell me what you wanted.”

“Take a look for yourself.” Judd gestured towards TK.

Tim managed to get around the hovering Mateo and gasped at the sight of the sitting firefighter.

“What the hell?!” Tim hissed, pulling his bag off his shoulder and crouching down next to Judd, “You told me you weren’t injured back at the farm!”

TK looked down at his ribs and frowned, “I thought it missed me.”

“What missed you?” Judd asked, as Tim started to remove the necessary equipment, while muttering under his breath about idiot firefighters masking their injuries, “Mateo go inform the Captain of what’s happening.”

“But-”

“It’s okay, TK will be fine, but Cap needs to know. Go on.” Mateo looked worried as he hurried out the door.

“Uh,” TK blinked owlishly, the pain was starting to make itself known, “It was just this canister thing, after we got Jack out. Flew through the air, thought I ducked in time. Didn’t feel a thing until now.”

“Uh huh,” Tim muttered, “And the head injury?”

“Head injury?” TK reached up and attempted to find said injury. His face screwed up in pain when his fingers brushed against an oozing gash on the back of his head, “Oh that. Maybe from when I hit the floor?”

“Hit the floor?” Tim frowned, as he smacked TK’s hand away from the gash, “Your helmet should have taken the brunt of the impact.”

“It may have come off when I fell,” TK muttered under his breath.

“Really?!” Tim paused and blinked at TK’s answer, “Really?! And you didn’t think at all to mention this to anyone. Anyone at all? Yes Michelle was busy, but you had Karen or myself you could have told. Hell your dad was there.”

TK shrugged and then winced at the pain the motion caused, “I wasn’t hiding anything, I really wasn’t hurting when we carried Jack out, I wasn’t even hurting until Judd sat me down, so I didn’t think anything of it. Little things happen on the job all the time and I usually just walk it off. No need to worry anyone about a small spill.”

“This is more than a small spill TK,” Judd frowned at the younger man’s lack of concern, “This could have turned into something more serious.”

TK blinked at Judd, “If I thought I had actually hurt myself on the farm I would have spoken to someone, trust me, I’m not a fan of being in pain. I just really didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“Say I’m willing to believe that,” Judd huffed as he held items that Tim was handing him as the paramedic worked, “This happens again, no matter how small you think it is, you have to tell someone.”

TK opened his mouth to reply, but was beaten to it when Owen was led into the bathroom by Mateo.

“I agree with Judd, TK.”

“Dad!”

“No TK, we’ve talked about this, no secrets.”

“Yes dad.” TK agreed with a sigh.

“So Tim, what’s the verdict?” Owen asked.

Tim finished wrapping TK’s ribs before standing and assessing the head wound, “By the looks of this, it won’t need stitches. So you’re at least lucky there. Bruising on TK’s back is from the impact of hitting the ground, so you’ll need to rest to recover from that. The ribs are at minimum bruised, we won’t know for sure until after a x-ray. There is a high chance that they could be fractured, at worse you’ve broken them. Seeing as you’re not having any trouble breathing, I’ll say your lung hasn’t been punctured. Either way, I recommend taking him to the hospital, get that x-ray and take it from there.”

Owen grimaced as Tim explained TK’s injuries, “Thank you Tim for your assistance. You too Judd. We’ll get right on that.” He turned to TK, “Let’s get you covered up and we’ll head to the hospital before we head home.”

“Yeah okay dad.”

“Do you need any help getting him to your car, Cap?” Judd asked as he stood up.

“No Judd we should be fine, go head home to Grace.” Owen clapped Judd on the shoulder in thanks, “You too Mateo, don’t worry.”

The three men slowly filed out of the bathroom, Mateo glancing back with worry as Judd steered him out, thus leaving TK alone with his dad. TK sighed and forced himself to look up at his dad.

Owen reached over to TK’s bag and pulled out a well worn yellow hoodie. Gently, Owen helped TK to stand and then helped him put on the hoodie, “Come on son, let’s get you out of here.”

[steebharringt0n]

stumbling | b.h x you

billy hargrove is not in love, it’s just a silly phase he’s going through

warning: sexual themes & cursing

---

it began with stolen glances and soft smiles.

the subtle twist in your stomach, his smile knocked the breath out of your lungs, his nibbling of his bottom lip made your knees forget that they had bones. he was an adonis in his own right - california sun-kissed skin, blonde curls that tumbled down his face, and blue eyes that reminded you of a warm summers day.

you were fucked.

he didn’t know this of course - you were just another conquest to him, another notch in his belt. billy hargrove came to hawkins filled with hate, rage, disdain for everyone who lived there. he only had a year left until he left the so-called ‘hell on earth’ and had plans to never return, wipe the place clean from his memory.

he laced himself with the booze-filled parties that were constantly being thrown in the small town, the only way the teenagers of hawkins could entertain themselves. they would drink until their minds gave out, forgetting the dark stain that the sleepy town had left on itself since will byers miraculously came back to life.

you were a familiar face amongst the party crowd, showing up to the get togethers every now and then. you enjoyed the way the alcohol let you feel loose, slowly losing your inhibition the more pure fuel you guzzled down. you were vulnerable in every way possible, limbs became limber, your mouth had no pause button, and your eyes locked onto your target.

you became utterly fearless, there was nothing that could stop you in your conquest to taste him tonight, even if he was out of your league. with a red solo cup that was attached to your hand, you stumbled over to him. your eyes were glossy, your cheeks had a hue of pink as you watched him take deep inhales and exhales of the cigarette that was always found to be attached to his lips.

he could feel your eyes on him, leering into his form as he set the cigarette down, flicking the ash from it.

approaching him from the side, you carefully reached down to his fingers, taking away the cigarette that rested in between his pointer and thumb. he whipped his head towards you, ready to snap at your boldness, but stopped as his curious eyes watched you raise the cigarette to your pink lips, taking a deep exhale and letting the fumes consume your chest.

with an arched brow, he carefully studied your next move, it would be the boldest one yet.

with the fumes still resting in your chest, you flicked the finished cigarette onto the concrete floor of Tina’s backyard, stomping it with your shoe. your hand darted towards his chin, pulling his face towards yours as your lips hovered so dangerously close to his. you cracked your mouth open, letting the smoke from your mouth swim its way into his.

he was instantly hooked.

no longer were you the quiet girl that sat behind him in english. his vision of you suddenly became warped and his brain became fuzzy as his nose brushed over yours. electricity coursed through his veins, a shock to his system. no one had ever been so striking with him, but the moment you took charge of him was the moment he realized - there was more to this town than he originally thought.

a brief smile pressed upon your lips as you were ready to pull away from him, ending whatever game you had started to play. but he wasn’t finished, he was far from finished. his fingers found themselves wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place before you could even step away from him. a breathless gasp escaped your mouth as his other hand snaked itself around your neck. he slowly caressed the soft skin, his thumb inching its way up until he pressed gently on your bottom lip.

your tongue poked out, inviting his thumb into your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue around him.

he swallowed thickly as your sleepy eyes gently shut, concentrating on giving him a preview of what was to come later tonight. his pants became uncomfortably tight on him - he shifted his feet as your eyes slowly opened back up, a mischievous glint in them.

you had been warned of the consequences of messing around with billy. whispers flew around the school of how he would ‘fuck em and dump em’. you would hear how girls had their hearts torn into shreds, hoping that they would be the one to tame the animal inside of him, but their valiant efforts were fruitless. crushing their self-esteem, and throwing them into a dark depression that would seep into them for days. they were victims of billy’s crusade and you vowed never to subject yourself to such agony.

but tonight, all of that would change in an instant.

no longer did you care if he fucked you and left you, the ache between your legs, and the alcohol that swam through you killed every rational thought that your brain could come up with. 

you gave yourself to him in an empty guest room, writhing under his taut body as his fingers nimbly worked to unwind the tightness that lingered in your belly. his mouth was everywhere - your neck, your chest, your breasts, your thighs. your fingers found relief being tangled into his hair, tugging and pulling gently as his thick cock found comfort in the warmth of your cunt, pounding mercilessly inside of you.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling goosebumps take over your body as your cunt clenched around him, milking him for all that he was worth. he came hard - his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck, marking you with a bruise that would stay on your skin for weeks to come.

he pulled out of you, feeling himself grow soft. he turned to lay on his back as your heavy pants echoed throughout the dark bedroom. the mind blowing sex quickly sobered you up, pulling yourself out of the post-orgasmic haze you swiftly gathered your things. you felt billy’s eyes burn into you as he watched you get dressed.

“I know how you work Billy” you quietly told him, pulling your blouse over your head.

he let out a snort, smart girl he thought to himself. what made her think that she was any different from the girls he had fucked before? nothing - nothing at all.

“thanks for the sex” you muttered before walking out of the bedroom, leaving him naked in all his glory.

the following monday at school, you acted as if the weekend never happened. an unspoken agreement between the two of you to act as if what happened at Tina’s stayed at Tina’s - he would get his fulfillment and you wouldn’t get your heart broken.

but the moment the both of you found yourself at a party - at any party - clothes would be ripped off, and your mouths would be attached to each other. gasping for air, whimpering and shuddering his name as you both came hard. the sex became tantalizing, an escape for you, a way to get yourself off with some extra help.

this would go on for 5 months.

5 months of mind blowing sex every weekend - if not every other weekend.

billy would have never admitted it, but he was slowly becoming attached. he looked for your figure at every party, his eyes scanning out the room until he spotted you and seduced you back into whatever open room. it was becoming a force of habit, and you were more than welcome to have him take you in any way or form.

“It’s not like I like you or anything - I mean you’re a cool chick and all - “ he started rambling to you as he watched you pull up your pleated skirt. your thighs were littered with bruises, his fingers and his mouth left dark purple impressions. he was desperately trying to convince himself that he didn’t like you, that you were just an quick, and easy fuck in this shit town.

you rolled your eyes, cutting him off mid sentence, “I know Billy”

“So don’t be telling your little friends that we’re dating or anything, I don’t want that shit spreading around school. I don’t like you okay?”

“Okay Billy”

he brushed his hand over his face, letting a tired sigh escape from his lips. he continued to watch you dress as an uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. there had been an ache, a gnaw in his chest for the last few weeks, and every time he would sleep with you, the ache would lay heavier on his chest like a ton of bricks. he had never felt this feeling before, but he started to dream about the way your smile would light up a room, and the way your nose would crinkle in disgust, or how your melodious laughter could instantly put anyone out of a sour mood.

he brushed it off, thinking it was just his mind playing stupid tricks on him. it was then he started to convince himself that he didn’t like you - he didn’t like your crooked smile, or your nose, or your laughter, it was dumb. so he ignored the heavy feeling in his chest that weighed upon him.

it wasn’t until you didn’t show up the following friday to steve harrington’s end of the year party that he realized - he was fucked.

his eyes frantically searched for you in a sea of drunken teenagers but you were nowhere to be seen. as if you had vanished into thin air.

so he did what he did best, he drowned himself in beer. desperately trying to forget your whimpering mewls, or the way your nails would press half-moon impressions into his back. instead he found himself being fucked by katie harper in the bathroom - his orgasm was lackluster, and she reeked of a perfume that made him want to vomit.

she was nothing compared to you.

it was then monday morning that he realized the worst - you were finally out of his grasp and fell into another mans hand. his heart clenched at the sight of your fingers interlaced with peter o’connor, the running back of the hawkins high football team. 

you beamed brightly as peter pressed a kiss to your cheek, you finally got out of billy’s grasp and into someone who genuinely liked you.

this sent billy fuming.

as he watched peter walk away, he took the chance to corner you by your locker as students began to trickle out for the day. like a predator to his prey, his used his arms to cage you between his body and your locker. you stared at him with a bored expression - you were done playing his little games.

“you fucking peter now huh?” he spat at you.

you sighed, crossing your arms, “I’m not yours Billy - I never was”

Billy chuckled darkly, shaking his head. His hand then came up to softly caress your cheek, “Oh no princess, see that’s where you’re wrong. Those bruises on your thighs? on your neck? on your tits? That’s all me - you belong to me” he hissed out.

you fluttered your eyes shut, leaning into his intoxicating touch, feeling warm and dizzy from his hand being pressed into your cheek.

but then you snapped your eyes open, remembering the words he once told you,

I don’t like you okay?

You snatched his wrist in your hand, throwing it down to his side. anger fueled your every thought - how dare he come around acting as if he owned you?

“fuck you, you don’t own me. besides, you never liked me billy, so why the fuck do you care? find some other bimbo to fuck, I’m done”

with you having the final word, you shoved right past him, but billy wasn’t done with you, he was far with being finished from you.

in a seamless motion, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around back to him and pulling you towards his chest. his arms locked tight around your waist as he smashed his lips onto yours. your arms pressed up against his chest as you tried to pull away from his grasp - but the taste of his tongue against yours made your brain fuzzy. you slowly melted into his arms as the two of you fought for dominance. his mouth then moved down towards your neck, where you felt him nibble and suck right on your jugular - he could feel your pulse on his tongue and it excited him.

you let out a pathetic moan as he marked you again. he pulled away from you, his lips swollen and wet as he marveled on the hickey he left. his hands found purchase around your cheeks, cupping your sweet face.

“You let Peter know ... that you belong to me okay princess?” his voice came out like silk - it sent chills down your body.

“B-But Billy I - “

he shut you up again by pressing his lips onto yours - this time his lips moved slow, his tongue moved to yours. it was passionate kiss fueled by the feeling that was sitting on his chest. his heart raced at the thought of you belonging to him once and for all.

but you weren’t going to give in so easily.

you shoved him off of you, anger sweeping your calm demeanor.

“I am not a play thing Billy! You can’t keep doing this to me!” you cried out to him. “You fuck me, you tell me you don’t like me, and the moment someone else gives me attention I’m suddenly yours?!”

Billy stayed quiet, his nostrils flaring wildly as you continued your outrage towards him. he could feel his blood pressure rising with every word that came out of your mouth. he had done this damage, this was all on him.

he had fucking fallen in love with you and he had hurt you in return - all because he was terrified to admit it to himself.

you huffed loudly as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. you watched as the blonde boy turned his back on you - walking away in anguish. he couldn’t tell you he loved you, he couldn’t allow himself to ever be vulnerable around anyone.

you let out a sob, feeling your heart break with every step he took.

you didn’t show up to school the next day, feigning sick to your parents. you spent the whole day listening to fleetwood mac and organizing your bedroom. every now and then you would spot the dark bruise on your neck, a harsh reminder of the damage billy had done to you.

with your parents gone for the remainder of the day - an impromptu date night out of town - you were left with the house by yourself. you decided to take a hot bath, soaking your emotions away to soothe the hole in your heart. 

as soon as your fingers started to prune you hopped out of the tub, wrapping yourself in a fleece towel and straining out your hair. you felt refreshed, washed away from all the emotional baggage that you had encountered the day before.

you walked back into your bedroom, eager to get into bed, but your thoughts were suddenly thrown into askew as you faced a stoic billy sitting on your bed - your window wide open, letting a cool breeze into your bedroom.

“What the fuck?! What are you doing here?!” you shouted at him.

he stayed quiet, looking straight ahead, avoiding your angry gaze.

“Billy Hargrove get the fuck out of my room before I call the cops, I don’t want anything to do with you I - “

“I lied”

You crinkled your forehead, frowning, “What?”

he slowly turned his neck to look at you, his emotions were bubbling at bay, he felt as if his heart was going to explode if he continued to stare at you - and it didn’t help that you were practically naked in front of him. 

he stood up, quietly walking over to you until he hovered over your small frame. he didn’t touch you, but his blue eyes were boring into yours as he continued to explain himself.

“Y/N. I lied. All that bullshit I said about not liking you - I lied”

You felt your heart start to race, “Oh”

He let a laugh escape his lips, “And you want to know the worst part?”

You swallowed thickly, your voice trembling, “W-what?”

“I move to this stupid fucking town and I’m counting down the days till I move back to California, but you came into my life, and you fucked everything up. You ruined everything Y/N.”

you gripped your towel tightly as his hot breath hits your face. you don’t know what to say, you’re too scared to say anything.

“You and your stupid smile, and your stupid laugh, and the way your eyes light up when you read Pride and Prejudice during lunch, and the way you’re always willing to help tutor anyone in class, you’re too fucking good for me Y/N.”

“O-Okay”

His hands are suddenly cupping your face, he leans down and gently rubs his nose against yours. you close your eyes and you melt into his touch, his scent of cigarettes and mints hits your nose and you instantly feel calm - serene almost. the next words he utters out of his mouth makes your heart skip a beat,

“I’ve fallen in love with you and it’s fucked everything up”

it comes out as a whisper, his voice deep and rich. you let out a shaky exhale as you let his confession sink into your head.

“Y-you love me?”

His thumbs rub soft circles on your cheeks, your eyes wide and innocent, “Oh princess, I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I’ve just been too fucking stupid to admit.” He pauses briefly as he watches your eyes fill with tears, “But I want you - I want all of you, no more games.”

your head is screaming no, but your heart is telling you otherwise - a constant battle between your emotions and logic.

but fuck logic.

you slam your lips onto his and the towel falls from your body. you both tumble onto your bed as he shows you just how much he truly loves you, worshiping every inch of your body. you utter the three words back to him, chanting it over and over like a prayer as he cums inside of you.

for the first time in months, billy hargrove sleeps soundlessly next to your naked form, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

for the first time in months, his reality is far better than his dreams.

you were finally his and all was right with the world.