#just imagining ben waking up in the middle of the night and where before he would suffer in silence he now seeks out callum and his comfort

[minimitchell]

“i’ve got callum, ain’t it? if i can’t sleep in the middle of the night” when i tell you that i’ll cry if i think about this line too much

[winterchimez]

Nightmare Before Christmas | Kevin Moon

SUMMARY: your uncle has always been a crime and supernatural fan and would often plan fun little games for your family to solve before Boxing Day. However, things have taken a turn this year as never would you and your friendly neighbour Kevin imagined that the both of you would actually have to solve a decades-old murder case, and eventually finding out the culprit behind all of this was someone much closer than you have expected.

PAIRING: neighbour!Kevin x f!reader

GENRE: horror, thriller, supernatural, crime, angst, some fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, mentions about dead bodies & severed body parts (nothing too gory though dw!!), missing person case, haunted house, mentions of blood, supernatural (ghosts, black mass), yn's descriptive nightmare (about the ghost-like character she would often see in the past), kissing, betrayal, dual personalities, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

WORD COUNT: 4,465

A/N: so this was supposed to be released on the 25th....but we will pretend that never happened 🫡 massive thankiew to @from-izzy for beta reading and giving me tons of ideas (and just giving me the support bcs i was so done and upset with everything bjasnjsdn) tagging the kevin enthusiast aka @hyungseos-cafe for this 👀✨

“Sissy, wake up!” 

You were jolted awake by your little brother, who was violently shaking your entire body as you groaned in annoyance and lifted your bedsheets above your head in hopes that he would leave you alone. But you have forgotten that he was a wild and energetic fourteen-year-old teenager, and there was no way he was giving up that easily. 

As your brother pulled your bedsheet off you, your eyes squinted, and you were about to curse at him out loud before he eventually beat you to it.

“It’s Christmas Eve, sissy! Uncle Ben has already left a note on the dining table, and we must start before the clock strikes midnight!” Your brother announced out loud before running out of your room back to the living room downstairs. 

You sighed before pinching your eyebrows together, trying to make sense of your surroundings and what your brother had told you moments before. 

It was that time of the year for your annual family tradition. Your uncle has always been into supernatural and playing detective. He would often devise a different scenario where he would get you and your siblings to solve the puzzles or cases before you would eventually earn a Christmas present from him. He had a different scenario in mind every year and was full of ideas to ensure each year stood out. 

Not only were your siblings encouraged to participate in the hunt, but he would also get your neighbour next door to experience every year, and he had done so for the past decade. 

Your best friend, Kevin Moon. 

It was a joy to have him aboard, especially when he had the wits and brains to help crack and solve most puzzle pieces or clues in your uncle’s little game each year. Because of that, your uncle has taken a liking to him, eventually pairing you guys up, often thinking that you both would end up great as a couple. 

Which isn’t something you were totally against if you were to be completely honest. 

You liked him a lot, and he has been your best friend throughout middle school up till university. He has always been someone you could always count on and gave you the support you needed. 

You just weren’t sure if you liked him more than just a friend at this point. 

Trying to shake away all of the unnecessary thoughts, you quickly rushed down to your dining hall to find the letter that your uncle always left on the table the night before when all of you were asleep. However, you froze as you saw that your brother was already holding one in his hands, reading it internally while another was left on the table. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that uncle made two separate invitation cards and that on the table is specifically just for you and Kevin-hyung next door,” your brother said half-heartedly before he walked out with his invitation, getting ready to get all geared up before heading out the door. You suspected Uncle Ben had probably given him some scavenger hunt games again, given the looks of your brother’s outfit and the big shovel he had just brought out the door seconds ago.

As you diverted your attention back to the invitation card on the table, you slowly picked it up before opening the envelope and pulling up the letter tucked within. 

Oh, Uncle Ben, what exactly have you plotted for us this Christmas?

“Your uncle must be nuts going all out for Christmas this year. He must’ve been itching to get this year’s theme out as soon as possible, don’t you think?” Kevin questioned you while chuckling at the side, trying his best to hide his uneasiness. 

But that was when you didn’t respond and quietly began looking for clues; that was when Kevin knew that it probably wasn’t a joke this time. 

“There’s no actual dead bodies, right, Y/N?” 

When you quickly skimmed through the entire letter, your eyes widened at the envelope's contents. You wasted no time and hurriedly scurried out the door to Kevin right next door. With a few knocks, your best friend was out with a hot mug of cocoa, with his hair slightly ruffled, indicating that he had just woken up not too long ago. His eyes widened as he did not expect you to be on his doorstep this early in the day, and he was a bit embarrassed with how he looked. 

Deep down, you wanted to tell him how he looked absolutely adorable and how you would snuggle up on the couch with him for the holiday seasons, but there was no way you would admit you had a crush on him just yet. 

Shaking off your initial thoughts, you quickly redirect your attention back to the envelope, trying to fill Kevin in with all your uncle wrote on the invitation. He had the same initial response that you had, thinking that this was all some sort of sick joke. All while he was getting ready by changing his pyjamas into a cosy sweater sufficient to last till the destination, you couldn’t help but spare a few glances back at him a few times to take a sneaky little peak at his toned body.

He worked really hard during the summer anyway, and you have seen how he basically went from being all skinny and slim to being toned and bulky within the span of half a year, and you couldn’t stop ogling at the sight whenever you saw a little skin from him. 

But again, you would not admit that to him just yet. 

As soon as he was ready to go, you both took the pathway down to the written location as the sky quickly turned dark due to the winter season. By the time you both arrived at the entrance of the abandoned house, you needed to grab the torchlight hidden within your sweater and turn it on to navigate the place. 

As you both opened the front door with an awful creak, you were met with nothing but complete darkness. The power lights were completely cut off so there was no chance of even having a little bit of electricity within the premises. 

There was this eerie feeling in the air that neither of you could describe; it almost felt like a little haunted house, as much as you did not want to admit it. But given the details that Uncle Ben has written in the envelope, that spooky and sinister feeling you’ve had was valid, and it would probably remain this way until the both of you could crack the case open. 

“To answer your question, Kevin, I really hope we won’t be stumbling upon any dead bodies too. It’s the Christmas holidays, goddamit,” you spat, still thinking that Uncle Ben was totally out of his mind with this whole dilemma that was going on right now. 

“Well, we’ve lived in this neighbour for a good decade now, and never in my life have I heard about a Madam Nee Nee residing in a house right at the end of the road and was actually murdered without a trace,” Kevin replied worriedly, thinking that this whole situation is slowly getting much creepier by the minute.

As much as you wanted to agree with the male, you have heard something or two about Madam Nee Nee through your uncle’s stories. All you knew about her was that she was the one who would often bake cupcakes for the children across the streets and would pass them to Uncle Ben so that all of you were able to get your hands on them every Christmas. 

Those cupcakes were indeed one of the best you have ever tried in your entire life; they were not too sweet and were just enough to fit everyone’s liking and taste buds. It seemed as if Madam Nee Nee knew exactly what each child’s favourite television show was as she would make an effort to pipe and decorate each cupcake exactly as each character looked. You would often get your favourite Tinker Bell design, and she would alternate between the different fairies each year, while your younger brother often got his favourite DC superheroes. 

But there was only one problem: you had actually never met the baker herself, and each time you tried to bring it up, your Uncle Ben would often tell you that she was too busy delivering the goodies to the other children out of town. 

In other words, you didn’t really know if you could trust Uncle Ben’s words on whether such an individual really existed and if this whole murder case was actually a reality or not. 

Regardless, you were not going to get anywhere if neither of you was going to make progress in solving the riddles that your uncle had made specifically for you two, adding onto the fact that you really did want to get your hands on the presents as your uncle always knew exactly what you liked. 

Hence, you and Kevin moved forward and deeper into the house as you both tried to see where or what could potentially help you both get a kick start on the investigation. Suddenly, the doors behind you both slammed shut with a loud thud, and you both were now in complete darkness, heavily relying on the torchlight you brought to navigate the house. 

“We’re really doing this right, Y/N?” Kevin asked as he grabbed your wrist to drag you closer to him, making sure that you both stuck together, especially in the given circumstances. Not going to lie, your heart skipped a beat with that sudden gesture of his, and you prayed that he was unable to hear that loud thumping noise coming from your chest, given how silent the whole place was, to the point that you were able to hear a pin drop if there ever was one. 

“Y-Yeah… to face Uncle Ben and get our hands on the gift. And besides, we could always have a little fun mystery for the holiday season.”

After ten minutes, you both arrived at the house's second floor. You both tried your best to scavenge through the bottom floor, but there wasn’t much you found that could potentially help with the investigation. 

So here you both were, slowly taking your steps up the old wooden stairs that creaked with every single step, making the uncomfortable feeling you have had since stepping into the house a lot worse than before. 

Thankfully, Kevin stuck close to you and took the lead in front, where you naturally held onto his sweater from behind, which caused him to turn behind for a second and offer his hand to you instead. You stared at him blankly at first, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you weren’t hallucinating, but he eventually linked his hands with yours and pulled you slightly forward. 

You were thankful that the electricity was out in the entire house, and Kevin held onto the torchlight and shone the pathway in front of him instead; you definitely did not need the male to know how red and flushed your face was right now. 

As you both moved forward, you eventually stepped onto something firm and hard, causing you to stop in your tracks, nudging Kevin’s elbow to shine the light directly onto your feet. 

You truly wished you hadn’t done that at all.

A severed hand was situated right below your new pair of white shoes, and a little blood splatter was visible around the corners of your shoes. You immediately screamed and took a little jump back, causing you to cower into Kevin’s arms immediately. His eyes widened at the sight, and he tried his best to calm you down by rubbing your back with one of his hands while the other continued to shine the torchlight all around the room. 

And there it was: another severed hand, located close to what used to be the fireplace. 

“Th-This must be a joke…” Kevin muttered, not wanting to accept reality and thinking, ‘this was all a dream.’

It couldn’t be real. 

There haven’t been any reported murder cases around town for the last thirty years. In fact, your town has been regarded as one of the safest in the state for the past decades, and it is also known as the best town to reside in. Whatever situation you both were in now must be wholly made up by your uncle, who was always full of surprises.

…right? 

That was until Kevin redirected the light source towards the fireplace above, where there were clearly a few picture frames damaged through time or by someone. As you both began moving closer to examine them, you noticed they all had one thing in common. 

All of them had the same person cut out from the pictures themselves. 

Three picture frames stood above the fireplace, each depicting a family of five smiling brightly as if the world was free from all sorts of nightmares and misery. At least it was before. Something must have happened for whoever removed the person in question from the pictures—perhaps it must’ve been a bad memory for them, or that person is probably no longer associated with them. 

You slowly moved close enough for you to be able to examine it well, gently wiping off the dust from each frame with your thumbs to see who exactly was the family in the old pictures. You didn’t recognise them at first until you squinted your eyes and saw the famous signature on the bottom right of each frame. 

It belonged to the Jamaisons; the very first family that moved into this town many years ago. 

From what you have heard about the tales from your uncle, they were the ones to be grateful for as they built up and raised the town's reputation as it is known today. Their family have since then lived for generations, constantly passing down their legacy for years until the last heir passed on without a successor ten years ago. 

As everyone has been told, the very first generation of the Jamaisons was a family of four: a dotting father, a loving mother, and a set of twins. But then, who was the mysterious missing cut-out person from the pictures? Did they have another sibling they have kept secret for years, and nobody knew about them? And if yes, why did they do that? 

Countless questions are pondered within your mind, and you can’t help but want to dig much deeper to discover the truth. 

“Kevin…how much do you know about the Jamaisons?”

“As much as they have taught us in the textbooks. Why?”

“I have a bad feeling about this…” You muttered, slowly showing and telling Kevin about the missing person from each picture. 

His eyes widened too, and you could tell he had the same thoughts as you.

“You don’t mean…”

“I really hope it isn’t true. Why would Uncle Ben even want us to meddle with their history if it was? Does he think we were detectives that could solve a potential murder case that was decades old?” You questioned, tugging his arm around you even tighter. 

He pondered for a bit before answering. “Why not? I have always wanted to go to an actual crime scene.”

“Kevin Moon, this is serious,” you firmly reminded him. 

He sighed before giving you a little smile back. “I know, Y/N. Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out then.” 

Along with your friendly little neighbour, you both begin scouring through the bookshelves, hoping to find any potential records that could prove that they had someone else in the original line-up of the family. 

However, all of your luck was pointless as there was zero to no evidence proving that the missing person from the pictures existed. It was as if the family themselves had erased whoever it was to the best of their abilities. 

You groaned as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Ugh, I guess we’re back at square one again.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Kevin responded, which caused you to turn your head towards him to see that he was pointing towards the empty room across the room, where the door slowly creaked open.

You were sure that the doors were closed tight when you both made your way up an hour ago, and now you were witnessing the door slowly pry open by seemingly nothing. 

Oh hell, there is no way ghosts are real. 

“Do not say the g-word, I swear,” you immediately placed one of your fingers directly onto Kevin’s lips, preventing him from saying it out loud. 

“Not until we go check it, Y/N.”

“Can we just…not…”

“I think you know what the answer to that is.” 

You rolled your eyeballs at Kevin’s words; you knew there was no way you both were leaving this place until you found the answers to the case. Without a choice, you reluctantly allowed Kevin to drag you along step-by-step as you both got closer towards the room.

If you were in an actual horror movie, you were pretty sure there would be creepy and high-pitched violin sounds playing in the background right now. The siren by your ear was beginning to resonate aloud, causing you to have a slight headache while you were trying your best not to shit your pants at this point.

As you were a step right before entering the room, your grip against Kevin’s arm tightened, giving him the signal that you were having second thoughts and would gladly dash right out of the house right now. But he returned a little rub on your palms with his, telling you that everything would be alright and that he was here with you. 

With one final gulp and nod, you both took that long-awaited step into the room, when you were met with your worst nightmare. 

You have never told anyone about how your deepest and darkest fear was about how you once had this dream where a black mass consisted of a white face with a lipped mouth paired with large black eyes used to lurk at the corners of your room watching you sleep. You eventually got terrified to the point that you would think about it all day, which then interfered with your daily routine. 

And it was the same nightmare that stood right in front of you, slowly expanding as it crept nearer towards you both as if it was going to swallow you up as a whole. 

“No…please don’t…” You whimpered. 

Before you could even think straight, the huge mass eventually engulfed Kevin, and he was gone within a second. Just like that, the mass turned in your direction, approaching you slowly as you took a few steps back each time. 

With one final huff from the mass, it quickly expanded one last time before jumping right onto you, slowly dissolving your entire body and turning it into the mass just like it was. 

You were helpless, and you eventually felt your entire body go numb as if it was all over and done for. 

Before you were taken over by darkness, you slowly peered your eyes upon the doors, noticing a bright white figure approaching you before everything was a blur.

“Sissy! SISSY WAKE UP!!”

You immediately jolted awake with that scream coming from the side of your ear, drenched in sweat, and your eyes widened as you tried to calm your fast breathing down.

“Whatever the nightmare you have been having since last night, it must have been a wild one I must say,” your brother responded as he slowly grabbed a cloth to wipe your sweat away. 

“N-Nightmare? What are you talking about?”

“Do you really not remember anything at all? You have been sleeping for the entire day yesterday! You have been tossing and turning in your sleep, mumbling incoherent words as you broke out in sweat.”

What? That can’t be. 

You slowly looked down to see your hands trembling before moving them to your face, trying to take in everything your brother had just told you.

“What about the scavenger hunt, then?” 

“Scavenger hunt? You mean Uncle Ben’s?”

“Y-Yeah…what happened to it?”

“Well, you were in bed for the entire day and wouldn’t wake up, so you actually missed the whole thing,” he bluntly replied. 

That can’t be true. You remembered walking down to the kitchen table and grabbing the envelope placed neatly on the dining table, which shocked you as you read the contents. 

“Uncle Ben came up to check on you, though; he said it was fine to let you continue to sleep since you were probably exhausted with finals.”

No…this is just not making sense at all.

Wait.

“Kevin! Where’s Kevin?!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you grabbed your brother’s shoulders, shaking them vigorously. 

Your brother stared at you as if a ghost had possessed you because the next thing that happened was that you immediately jumped out from your bed and dashed towards the front door. 

You speed ran through your open gates right towards your neighbour’s front porch, banging on the door, not caring if you were creating a scene. You needed to know if he was doing alright and in one piece. 

After a few seconds, the doorknob eventually turned and the door was opened. There stood your best friend, exactly like he was the day before when you went up to him to talk about the strange envelope Uncle Ben had left specifically just for you both. 

Well, supposedly, at least. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to come banging at Kevin’s door in the middle of the day, as you have done it multiple times. What he did not expect was that you would immediately dive into his embrace and begin sobbing into his sweater. 

“Y-Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

You couldn’t even give him a proper answer as your tears poured profusely. You were glad to see that he was fine, still in one piece and unharmed. 

“Thank God…THANK GOD KEVIN!!!!” 

You were not budging an inch, and Kevin only did what he knew was best at the moment, returning the hug and slowly caressing your back as if to calm you down. He eventually rested his lips on your head, leaving you little kiss. 

After what seemed like a couple of minutes resting in his embrace, you eventually pulled away and cupped his face with your palms, gently caressing his cheek as you looked at him lovingly. 

“Kevin…promise me…you’re never leaving my sight again.”

He chuckled. “Why would I? Y/N, you know I would never—”

“Please, a little pinky promise?” You begged, and Kevin could never resist that little puppy doe eyes you have. 

He smiled before he eventually leaned down and connected your lips with his. Your eyes widened upon the contact before you eventually eased into the kiss seconds later, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. 

When you both eventually broke off for some air, there was this surge of adrenaline within you, and you felt your face heat up quickly, causing you to duck your head down as you cupped both cheeks to cover up the redness away from the man. 

Kevin could only laugh at that little sight. “Come on, Y/N. It’s not like I have not seen your iconic red-flushed-tomato-like face before.” 

“It’s not iconic, and whatever that was wasn’t necessary at all,” you pouted.

He took a few moments just admiring how you looked before leaning down and resting his palm on your head. “That kiss is a promise that I’ll always be yours.” 

“Even stronger than a pinky promise?”

“Absolutely.” 

With that, you reconnected your lips with his warm ones again, trying to savour them as best as possible before leaning your forehead against his. 

“Oh, Kevin. You truly are the best thing that has happened to me during Christmas this year.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered by that?” He teased. 

You sulked for a bit before slapping him on the arm. “Obviously, silly.” 

With a deep huff, you stretched out your arms before wrapping them back around Kevin’s arm, trying to drag him out of his house and head straight towards yours instead for a cup of hot cocoa.

“Say, why don’t we go find Uncle Ben? I’m sure he might have some other tricks to keep us occupied until unboxing night.” 

As you tried your best to pull Kevin with you, you were stunned by him standing still at the front of your doorstep, staring at you with a straight face. 

“Kevin? Is everything alright?” 

There was this odd ten-second silence before Kevin eventually spoke up, which actually sent chills down your spine.

“I’m afraid that Uncle Ben will not be coming anytime soon, sweetheart.” 

Within a swift motion, Kevin pulled you vigorously back into his embrace, locking you tight with his arms. You then noticed how his demeanour began to change and was completely different from before. 

You began to panic, shivering even, as you looked into his now-turning hollow eyes. 

“W-What are you talking about?”

“That little nightmare you had was a reality, princess. Your little Uncle Ben has been trying his best to warn you all these years, and who would’ve thought he would actually get you to head towards the murder site yourself to crack open the case.”

“K-Kevin…you’re scaring me…” you began pushing yourself away, but it seemed that his grip had then gotten a lot tighter, which was when you began to feel the pain that was slowly travelling across your whole body. 

“Let me tell you a little story, Y/N. A long time ago, a certain group used to think Christmas was all sparkly and bright. But what if I told you that things would never be the same? That the people around them now think that Christmas is a nightmare. After all, a sparkly Christmas can only happen if there is a drop of blood, right? I think that’s enough for you to figure things out, no?”

It was. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew exactly what he meant. 

Not only was Kevin your Christmas, but he was also your Nightmare. 

Just like that, he slowly began leaning down as he pushed your hair on your shoulders towards the other side, leaving a clear opening for him to start rubbing your sensitive skin as he leaned down slowly to the point that his lips brushed against them.

“From now on, I’ll always be your Nightmare Before Christmas.”

A/N: a lil belated spooky Christmas to yall 😚

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @hyungseos-cafe (join my permanent taglist here!)

[littlebugs]

How are you??

Can I request a Kylo Ren x reader where the reader is Kylo’s soulmate and Rey’s older sister and the reader is a very powerful force user and the reader, Kylo and Rey all fight together to defeat the stormtroopers who want to kill Kylo so the reader uses the force but is overwhelmed by it that the reader releases a massive energy blast and passes out but Kylo catches the reader in his arms and carries the reader back to his shop and Rey gets worried about her older sister and Kylo calms Rey down and they all go to the resistance base and Finn, Poe notices that Kylo is carrying the reader in his arms but asks Kylo if the reader is ok and gently places the reader on his bed and waits for the reader to wake up.

meet me on the battlefield

warnings: injury, fluff, light language, fem presenting reader (she/her pronouns), NOT CANON

i want to make our reader Rey's half-sister (fathers side) so she still has palpatine blood, but you can imagine the other half to be any race/ethnicity) lmk if i missed anything (:

a/n: ok so i switched it up a tiny bit because you said kylo and not ben and i got confused 🤨 summary: reader is a rebel like Rey, but Kylo has a force connection with her. they're fighting in battle against the First Order but reader uses the energy blast, and kylo senses (?) it. anyways he brings her back to the rebel base and everyone's like wtf. etc.

past

You hated him. You really hated him. But he grew on you.

The first time you had seen him it was a shock. You were getting ready for bed, in the Resistance base in the middle of a godforsaken rain forest (you were thinking you would much rather be on a ship,) and he had appeared.

"For Kriffs sake, did Rey steal my lightsaber again?" You cursed as you shuffled through a pile of clothes in the corner of your tiny room on the Resistance base. You sneezed and stumble into a second pile of clothed as some of the forest air entered you lungs. "Allergies" you cursed as you had shut the small window in the corner of your already stuffy room. Wiping your nose on your arm, you just started to turn around but were met by a familiar, and terrifying, helmet.

"Oh no." You whimpered and backed away, heading to the door. "Can you see my surroundings? I can't see yours." A voice far to sinister to be General Leia's son said. Although you could, in fact, see his surroundings, (which happened to be his bedchamber) you say nothing. Until he called your name. "How- how do you know that?" You shudder, wishing you had your saber. "I can feel you through the force. The Dark Side of the force." He countered, still standing ominously in the corner of your room.

"Where are you?" he demanded, modulated voice sending shivers down your spine. "I-I cant tell you..." you uttered, as the walls seemed to blur and shift around you with every step Kylo took forwards, coming closer to you by the second.

"SHIT" you screamed as the door banged open, revealing Poe standing in his flying uniform. "You're jumpy today" Poe laughed as he looked at your terrified expression. You quickly turned back to look at the spot where Kylo had been mere seconds ago, absolutely bewildered, seeing nothing.

After that, he visited you.

every. single. night

It started off with him scaring you as you were preparing for bed. Then after a shower. Then before a shower (that one was particularly uncomfortable.) After some time, Kylo just became part of your nightly routine, like brushing you teeth. He popped up out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of you, sometimes not talking, sometimes ranting out the First Order or some General named Hux. But there was simply one constant that was never broken. The mask stayed on.

Your daily live stayed the same. Well, mostly.

present

The First Order was attacking the base. THE First Oder was attacking the base. This could put everything into jeopardy. The lives of everyone here. The lives of your allies across the galaxy. Your friends. But the only thing you could think about was him. Kylo. You shouldn't. You really shouldn't. But as you strap your saber onto your belt, and prepare you multiple blasters, you can't help it.

*What if I get to see his face?*

But you can't be thinking that. "I'm not a foolish schoolgirl anymore" you mumble under your breath, unaware of the presence behind you. "Oh really?" A modulated voice interrupts. "For Kriffs sake I told you to stop sneaking up on me Kylo." You turn, annoyed.

"We're laying siege to your camp." He muses, tossing his sabers hilt from hand to hand. You groan. "No need to talk like a medieval war-lord Ren." He laughs. He laughs like he isn't about to probably slaughter half the people you know.

"Meet me on the battlefield."

The fighting goes by in a blur. The masks make it easier to destroy the stormtroopers. It makes them less human. You've probably been engaged in open combat for the better part of an hour. You consider retreating from the front lines back to the base. There's no way the meager army can hold the Order back for much longer, and the last evacuation ships are about to fly.

Until. Until you see Rey, at the end of a blaster. No running away now, you think, as you sprint towards your half-sister. But it's too late. Well almost. You're too far. So instead of physically fighting the trooper, you reach into the force. You've scarcely been trained, but you manage to knock the blaster as well as trooper to the ground. And consequently pass out.

Unaware to you, Kylo feels it. He feels you use the force, and then, just stop. He freaks out. He all but pushes Hux to the side to exit the command center. "Bloody hell Ren! Can you just-" Hux starts before Kylo pulls out his Saber. He basically rips the door off its hinges, and readies himself. As he enters the hangar he hopes nothing happens to you. As he slides inside his Silencer he hopes he's not too late.

He races to the planet at full speed, and upon arrival, stomps out onto the battlefield, combat boots squelching through the blood and earth, cape flowing regally, helmet intact.

Resistance fighters call into base warning General Leia, and Han, along with Poe, Finn, Rey (still recovering from a near death experience,) and an assortment of others trying to take all valuables out of the base.

You're passed out on the battlefield. Well, sort of. You're dimly aware of some tall, masked figure picking you up, and storming into what looks like the base. "Wait a damn minute," you think as you jerk back into consciousness. "KYLO?" you scream, squirming in his arms. "Shut up" The modulated voice, commands, and you obey, simply happy you haven't been killed yet. He marches through the rebel camp, all but deserted, to where you direct him too. Which happens to be where his mother is.

He kicks open the door, only to be greeted by inhabitants frozen in shock. "My son..." Leia starts, but is cut off by him. "She's injured. I'm putting her here." He booms, voice much to loud for your ears. "You've got some nerve walking in here, mask boy" Poe cautions, obviously angry but very confused. "Shut the fuck up." Kylo interjects, setting you down. Then he takes off his mask. He takes of his mask.

He's..... beautiful. Luscious hair, aquiline nose, brown eyes and full lips. Reactions around the room vary. "How old are you, 25?" Finn shrieks. A withering stare from Kylo shuts him up. "So... son-" Han begins, "Don't call me son." Kylo immediately shoots back at him. "Are we going to uh.. call off this attack, yeah?" Han questions hopefully. "No." Kylo states, unbothered, focusing on starting to bandage your wounded arm. You're partially conscious, but aware of the bickering room. And Kylo's face. "Are you guys, like, a thing?" Poe asks reluctantly, speaking on behalf of the whole room. Kylo doesn't respond. He doesn't know what you are.

After assuring you're safe, he leaves without a word, returning to his Silencer, and then to the Finalizer.

He knows, one day, he'll have you.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Does your muse have any extra specific turn ons?

Deeper than Skin || Accepting

Ben shapes wood the way a surgeon heals the body. His carves where he needs and she is sure that his medium whispers to him in a language lost after Creation. That's how she knows that he isn't lost to perdition as he thinks he is, if he can listen. If his hands move with grace. And do they ever. She sees divinity in the way his veins distend underneath the skin of his forearms. She could, if she were brave, taste communion in the sweat that collects in the channel of his spine. She contents herself with the aftercare, of being the one to wash his hands ~fingertips slowly working the soap into his skin, the lines and whorls of his fingertips and over the callouses of his palms~ and then dry them with the same amount of care before massaging the lotion into his flesh. She imagines what it would be like were he to use her in place of his wood. Would she come away so beautiful once he's taken his measure twice? Would he be ceaseless in his pursuit of her shape? Would he leave any part of her untouched or would he set tools to every inch of her. Would his kisses feel the way his mouth looks when he blows sawdust from her surface?

Or would he be shamed by the perversion she attaches to his art? The way she sometimes wakes up out of a dead sleep in the middle of the night, her skin soaked in sweat, and her body trembling from a deep ache she cannot rid herself of, with his name a broken prayer gasped into the dark? She wouldn't blame him. Isn't she fitting him for a different kind of cage? One that would be soft and welcoming, one he'd absolutely shrink from all the same. So she keeps it her own little blasphemy. Sits on the his bed up and out of the way. Tries to read her way through all the books she used to never have the time to finish. Keeps D.O. company and maybe out of the way. And if he notices she's there? She makes herself as small as possible. Just another thing he's made and forgotten was there, with no intention to sell. She hopes that some day he'll breath life back into her.

[inmyblueparadise]

Omg hi you replied to me! That made my day I love your work! Can you do an imagine where you’re sick with a stomach bug and the guys all take care of you and baby/Pamper you?

Hi love ! Sorry it took me some time to write this. But I hope you like it xx

Life on the road is not easy. Especially when you’re performing every night, recording overnight and filming a documentary. You and the boys were currently in the middle of the UK leg of the Where we are tour, and you were dead tired. You'd just finished a show in Manchester, and you were currently in your bunk on the bus, starting to fall asleep. Everybody was sleeping, so the bus was very quiet when suddenly you heard a voice.

Y/N I’m sorry to wake you but I need you in the recording booth. Damn ! Even in your dream you were still thinking about work ! Except that this was not a dream. You felt a hand, shaking you awake, and Julian your producer, spoke again. You could hear in his voice that he was sorry. Angel I’m so sorry for this, but can you wake up ?

Hmm, what time is it ? You rolled around, almost falling out of the tiny bed, your eyes still closed.

It’s a little after midnight, you’ve been asleep for 20 minutes. I’m sorry darling

It’s ok, I’ll get up.

I appreciate it. I’ll wait for you in the room. He said, walking away and exiting the bus. The recording room, was, actually a hotel room. You could have slept in one of them but you had been so exhausted after the show that you stayed on the bus parked outside the hotel. Getting out of bed was torture, your head was killing you and your body was screaming at the effort. Looking up you saw Ben, with his camera, filming you for the This Is Us documentary. You gave him a tired smile.

Is it ok if I film this ? He asks

Yeah yeah, it’s ok, gosh I’m so tired you said speaking quietly to not wake your bandmates, who had the same idea as you and were currently sleeping in their bunks. As you exited the bus Ben asked you a question to film some content.

So angel what is happening now ?

We’ve just finished a show in Manchester a few hours ago, and now it’s my turn to record my parts for the new album, so I’m going to our little studio on the road, most commonly known as Julian’s room to do that.

You kept walking, until you reached the room, to be honest, you were extremely tired, it was the 3rd night in the row that you had to do a show and then record because management was dead set on having the album finished as quick as possible. And the barely 9 hours of sleep in the last 72 hours were starting to take a toll on your body. You had felt nauseous all day, and had barely eaten a thing because of that. But that’s life on the road you said to yourself, you’re living the dream, don’t complain.

As you entered Julian’s room, you were greeted by him and the sound technician.

I need you for Best Song ever and the chorus of Happily babe.

You nodded, grabbing the headset and getting behind the mic. You recorded for 3 hours, singing at the top of your voice. Best Song Ever was a bitch, you couldn’t seem to get the high note right and you were getting extremely irritated because your throat was starting to hurt.

I’m sorry J you said with tears in your eyes, your stomach hurting.

It’s ok babe he said turning around but his eyes widen when he saw your face, Y/N are you ok ? You look really pale !

Yeah, yeah, I’ll try it one more time if you'd like, your voice cracking at the end.

No, no you’re exhausted, your going to damage your throat, it’s ok you go get some sleep and we’ll continue that tomorrow.

You let out a sigh of relief. When suddenly your stomach churned and you ran to the little bathroom. You barely made it to the toilette before you started puking your guts out.

Julian was quick to be by your side and pull your hair back, just has another wave of nausea hit you.

Ok, babe, breath. He said running his hand on your back. I’m going to get someone to help

Please don’t it’s OK it’s just the fatigue of the last few days I’m going to go to bed and I’ll be better by tomorrow morning

You slowly made your way to the bus your stomach empty and your head killing you. Once inside, you crashed into your bunk making as little noise as possible knowing that the five boys were sleeping.

After what felt like 20 minutes of sleep, you heard Paul’s voice inside the bus

Guys it’s seven you need to wake up you have a radio interview to do in an hour !

You couldn’t help the groan that came out of your mouth. Your entire body was hurting, your throat felt like it was on fire and you wanted to puke just thinking of getting out of bed.

The curtain of your bunk was opened a few seconds later, Paul's face bearing a concerned expression.

Y/N, darling, Julian told me what happened last night, how do you feel ?

Not that good…You said, but you couldn’t recognize the voice that came out of you. It was raw, and when you talked it felt like the inside of your throat was scratched with sandpaper. Paul gently places a hand on your forehead.

Darling you’re burning up ! I’m going to call a doctor, and we are going to take you to the hotel to rest, I’ll be back ! Paul left with his phone already near his ear. And I started to close my eyes again, but a soft voice brought me back, along with a hand brushing a few hairs away from my eyes.

Hey Angel, what’s wrong ?

Lou, you shouldn’t be near me, I think I’m sick

It’s ok darling, he kept his hand in my hair gently massaging it, making you close your eyes, You’re going to be fine.

Completely exhausted, you fell asleep very quickly not knowing that the other 4 boys were standing right next to Louis, watching you.

Liam was the first to break the silence of the bus. We should get going and let her rest. Not making a move to go, still watching you sleep.

It wasn’t until Paul came back to the bus, forcing the boys to leave and get ready, that they left you.

A doctor came an hour later, checking on you, and taking you to the hotel room helping you to bed with Paul’s help and placing an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated. His diagnostic made Paul boil in anger. Exhaustion.

According to the doctor, all you needed was a lot of rest, and you should be better the next day. But the big brother/babysitter knew that when the boys found out about that they’ll be pissed. Like him.

-

Meanwhile, the boys were being interviewed. And of course, the first question was about your absence.

After the boys told the man that you were resting because you had been sick, they answered the other questions, but none of them were really focused on the interview, but mostly on the girl lying in bed at the hotel.

Niall was the first to apologize to the man. Sorry we’re a little distracted, it’s early in the morning and it’s weird not having Y/N with us.

Yeah, when any of us is sick or feeling down she’s the one who takes care of us, we just want to get back to her quickly. Zayn added

Harry chuckled before adding And she’s also the one usually keeping us in check during interviews

This made the boys laugh, because it was true. You always took care of them whether it was during interviews that made them uncomfortable or on the tour bus and even on stage when they fell.

The interview lasted one hour. The longest hour the boys ever had to sit through. Finally, the last question came.

So what are you going to do for the rest of the day, your next show is tomorrow so you have a day off today. Anything exciting planned ?

They didn’t need to talk to each other to know what they were going to do after this.

Zayn was the first to speak. Well we are going to see Y/N obviously

Yeah we’re going to nurse her back to health and then probably sleep all day, because we had to get up really early, Niall haded.

They all got up, and started walking back to the parking lot to get back to the cars. They were surprised to see Paul waiting for them outside.

Hey Paul ! How is Angel ? Harry asked pinching his bottom lips between his fingers

The look on the tour dad, made them all fear the worst. Boys I’m going to need all of you to stay calm. Y/N is fine, she is resting at the hotel right now.

Well that’s good no ? Why are you asking us to stay calm ? So does she has the flu or something ?

No Liam, she doesn’t have the flu, according to the doctor she suffered from exhaustion. And I talked to Julian, Y/N has been recording all night for the past three days. According to him she barely slept, and her body couldn’t handle it.

To say the boys were shocked was an understatement. They knew first hand that management has been pressuring them for the next album, but this pressure was costing you your health and that pissed them off.

Those fucking wankers ! That was all Louis could say. We are touring, filming a fucking movie and recording an album they need to give us a fucking break !

Yes I know, that’s why I called Syco and told them that you will be taking a two weeks break on the recording of the new album. Now let Y/N rest, I’m going to take you back to the hotel.

Before we go back, can we make a few stops ? Niall asked a smile making it's way on his face.

-

Your head was pounding. Your throat was dry. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said this was a bad hangover. You opened your eyes, well-tried because as soon as you opened them you had to close them again, the room was too bright. Too bright. With your dry throat the only thing you could say was a small Ouch. But it was enough to alert the five boys present in the room.

You opened your eyes a second time, feeling pressure on your hand. A hand with an anchor tattooed on the wrist. Hey you, Harry softly said, smiling at you.

Hey Angel, Liam said gently on the other side of the bed. Handing you a glass of water. How are you feeling ?

Did we go out drinking last night ? Because if we did I drank way too much you answered with a smile after drinking a bit of water.

Babe, it would have been way funnier if you didn't look like shit Louis said smiling at the end of the bed.

Oi ! That what I thought ! What are you five idiots doing in my room while I’m sleeping ? It’s creepy !

Niall was the first to roll his eyes, but walked to the bed to offer you a cookie that you took, grateful, because you were really hungry. We are here to nurse you back to health Angel.

Well the service is disappointing, considering the lack of sexy nurses costumes. That brought a smile to the boys faces. What should we do then doctors ?

Well, we got you food, movies, and our delightful company darling, what do you want to do first ? Louis asks with a smile sitting at the end of the bed.

Well right now I going to use the bathroom, you said getting up. Your movement alerted the five boys that all got up to help you. Alright boys, as much as I love you, I don’t think our friendship extends to helping me pee.

But what if you fall in there ? Harry asked frowning

I’m a girl, I sit down to pee, I’m not going to fall. Give me 2 minutes and I’ll come back to bed. You took the IV pole and rolled it to the bathroom. True to your words, you were back in the room 2 minutes after. Opening the door, what you saw brought a smile to your face. Liam, Harry and Niall were laying on your king-size bed, surrounded by cookies and sandwiches. Louis was sitting on the edge of the bed watching Zayn working on the TV.

Louis got up and walked the few feet to you opening his arms, and hugging you tight. How are you feeling Angel ?

Tired but better than last night you said keeping your head on his neck. He brought you back to the bed, where you laid down in between Harry’s legs, your head resting on a small pillow.

So what are we watching ?

Disney movies babe, Zayn answered while he took a place on Niall, while Louis did the same on Liam. You were sandwiched between them.

You spend the entire Little Mermaid, eating cookies, drinking water and joking with your boys. Harry was gently stroking your hair, while Louis and Zayn were each holding your hands. By the time Aladdin started on the screen you were asleep. And so were the boys. That’s how Paul found you a few hours later, all cuddled up on the bed.

Your adoptive father on the road couldn’t help but smile, at the sight. His five grown boys and angel, finally getting some rest. The song you all wrote together couldn’t be more true that day. « If you ever feel alone, don't. You are never on your own. ��

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter ii. previous. series masterlist.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n

warnings: ptsd/military service, violence, injury detail, language, angsty.

summary: santi’s hunch is no longer a hunch, but only will knows how close they are to finding frankie’s girl. 

rating: mature wc: 1.8k 

When a strong hand had clamped around her shoulder, Dove’s instinct was to break it. It wasn’t menacing; they were just waiting at the bar to be served.

A burly, middle-aged man was towering beside her, clutching a beer bottle that looked miniature in his thick grasp. His arms, still holding the shadow of what was once impressive muscle, were littered with military tattoos. Dove could spot a stick-and-poke from a mile off.

“I recognise that,” He gestures to her neck, where a small Delta Force tattoo was usually disguised by her long hair. “You ex-forces? Delta?” 

She wanted to kick herself. The sticky atmosphere had gotten the better of her and she’d thrown her hair into a ponytail without thinking.

“Yeah, but that isn’t exactly public knowledge ‘round here.” She murmurs. 

Across the room, Roni throws her head back in exaggerated laughter. A group of men, who looked barely out of their teen years, had come over to make some desperate attempts at getting laid. Dove had excused herself to buy the next round after one of them had cracked a mortifying joke about liking older women.

“That’s understandable.” The man held out his hand, which she took hesitantly. “My name’s Mark, I just retired out here. Served for twenty three years.” He chuckled gruffly, his voice thick from cigarettes. “I got jack shit to show for it, mind you.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, but she doesn’t offer her name. 

Mark notices as the conversation lulls. “I trained with a guy who made Delta. Santiago Garcia - we called him Pope, ‘cause he just had that way about him. You probably knew him.”

Dove swallows, chest lurching. “Sounds familiar… You know how it is though, the nicknames all blur into one eventually.”

That’s a lie, you never forget your teammates’ names. Mark knows it and so does Dove. Thankfully, he doesn’t push a conversation she clearly doesn’t want to have, and raises his bottle to her.

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway. Enjoy yourself out here.”

“You too, Mark.” She tries to smile, but her lips press into a thin line that probably looks more like a grimace.

*

Mark had called Santiago the following day, the alcohol-blurred memory peaking his interest once he remembered his old friend’s plea a few months back. He’d asked around for any heads-up if any ex-Delta women around their age popped up. Mark had thought the man was delusional when he’d heard. If she was Delta Force, she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be. 

Apparently, he was wrong. Maybe even the best of the best got rusty after a while.

The town Dove had been spotted in was questionable to Santiago. It was too cosmopolitan for a woman who was starting over. However, after a onceover on a map of Mexico, Santi spotted its smaller neighbour. He’d never heard of it, which meant it must be the place. Small population, right on the coast, with enough amenities and business to get by without any trouble.

“And, man, she had a wicked scar on her throat. Sort of shit you’d only see on a Delta.” Mark had added, with a chuckle. “I can’t imagine that ain’t your girl.”

‘Dove isn’t my girl,’ Santi wanted to bite back instinctually. He bit his tongue, and instead offered, “It sounds like her. I can’t thank you enough, brother.”

*

Santiago only told Will what he knew about Dove. He had the mind to retain that information no matter what this trip threw at them. Plus, he trusted him with his life, plus a couple other lives that came to mind. Call it insurance, if things went south.

Plus, Will didn’t have Tom’s mouth, or twisted morality. Tom was more than willing to accept that Dove would miss out on their prospective fortune, that the ‘hunch’ would have to wait until Lorea was dealt with. Santiago knew his brothers well enough to know Benny would throw a hissy fit if they knew where Dove was and she wasn’t included. She’d spent enough time stitching up their war-torn skin and shoving them out of bullets to deserve a cut.

So, Pope told a little white lie. They had a stop in Mexico to meet with a contact. 

Frankie had murmured, “Better be worth it, stuck in this shitty car with you fuckers for ten hours.” 

Santiago resisted the urge to agree. God, he hoped it would be worth it too. He hoped he wasn’t driving them into a dead end, a bluff on Mark’s part. Or even worse, invading Dove’s beautiful new life without them. That would destroy everything; Dove, the boys, Frankie. What if she had settled down? What if he pulled into that idyllic beach bar she wanted and she’s there, a baby with the same brilliant eyes balanced on her hip? She was never sure about kids. A vivid mental picture of the wrong diamond, glistening on her ring finger in the afternoon sun, and the wrong man pecking her lips, made Santi physically wince. 

Fish would never forgive him. Will and Benny would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself. 

It was a long, apprehensive drive. Santi’s eyes were drying, squinting against the headlights that occasionally glared past them. His jaw had been clenched for the last few hours as his anxiety grew, nothing but open road to stare at while he contemplated over and over as to whether it was the right decision. It didn’t help that Frankie never really slept like the others did on the move. While the other boys passed out, Frankie’s soft eyes continued scanning the scene flying past the window. It was like he stayed awake to watch Pope’s back, as if they were still in combat, or as an unspoken act of kindness to keep him company. 

Really, Frankie was a terrible sleeper. Santi remembered that from the early days, before he and Dove gave it up and became an item. He was the last to drift off and first to wake up, always restless. Once Dove started tip-toeing over to his cot in the night, he became the worst snorer in the division. Always splayed on his front, one arm tossed over Dove’s waist and the other under his pillow. She’d kick him in the night so he’d roll over and shut up, but it never lasted long. 

One night, Benny had enough, and groaned to Dove, “Put us out of our fuckin’ misery and smother him with your pillow, for the love of God.”

Dove had snapped back, “Fuck off, Benny, just ‘cause you aren’t getting any of the action doesn’t mean you have to get all bitter.”

“I’ve told you guys - I’m more than willing to join in-”

“Ben.” Frankie grumbled into her shoulder. It was gruff with sleep but still menacing enough to make the hairs on Dove’s arms stand on end.

Before a pillow smacked into his head, Benny guffawed, “Oh, so he is alive after all.”

*

Wringing a soft rag for polishing glasses between her fingertips, Dove descends the wooden steps at the entrance of the bar. The last huddle of regulars holler behind her, wrapping up their weekend drinks as the evening creeps closer to the early hours; Dove always notices the time when moths start colliding with the lanterns.

Roni rises from a crouch on the ground, dropping a paintbrush into a can with a clatter. “See, your own little touch!” 

The wooden panels that constructed the side of the bar, usually concealed by a stack of cardboard beer boxes, is decorated with little doves. Despite studying criminology, mainly for the satisfaction of her parents, Roni loved painting and insisted on brightening the exterior of their beach shack.

Dove cracks a half-smile. “It’s lovely, Ron. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” She beams, throwing the half-empty cans into the nearby bins. She pauses, glancing hesitantly at the older woman over her shoulder,  “Dove’s not your real name, right?”

“No, no. Nickname from when I was nursing overseas.” Dove chuckles, before adding, “Feels more like my real name than my Christian one nowadays.”

Roni passes Dove on the steps as she returns to the bar, “It suits you. You’re always graceful, but… you’re fucking fast.”

Dove laughs with her, ignoring the familiar clench in her chest. It’s exactly what Frankie used to say. The difference is Roni notices when she almost drops a glass, or her tray of drinks starts to wobble, and Dove is there to catch it with such fluidity Roni never saw her coming. Even the way Dove’s knife slices through fruit like each piece is a slab of melted butter. Frankie witnessed the extreme of that, the stealth and grace that usually ensured the enemy was dead before the others had even thought to raise their guns. Still, he admired her the same way Roni was right now. It was like awe.

It’s probably because he loved her effortlessly, every single aspect of her being without a glimmer of doubt or judgement. And now he wasn’t here.

The group of regulars stumbling down the steps break Dove from her thoughts, chortling and wishing her goodnight. One of the older men turns and jerks his thumb towards the road, “You might wanna tell them you’re closing, bonita.”

Before the road becomes the sand, there is a small, dusty wasteland that doubles as a makeshift car park. A vehicle is parked, glaring headlights facing towards the ocean and forming peculiar, alien-like beams in the dark. She’s definitely getting rusty; she’d barely registered the idling truck.

“I’ll sort ‘em out, Miguel, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” He jokes, waving to her. “Buenos noches, Dove.”

Military habits are practically impossible to shake, and immediately, Dove’s mind launches into overdrive. She raises her hand above her eyes, squinting against the blinding white LEDs in an attempt to make out a registration plate or even a recognisable model. Her mind is fine-tuned to memorise; most of the locals’ cars are already catalogued in her memory, but this isn’t one of them.

Maybe they’re tourists, ready to push their luck with the opening times. That’s the reasonable side of Dove’s mind. The irrational, dark edges whisper, ‘What if someone found you?’ By someone, it means someone bad. Someone she wronged during her service, an enemy or straggler that got away. Even a civilian that might have been caught in the crossfire. She thought about those ghosts often. Hell, some of them she could still name. When she can’t sleep, sometimes she lists them, pictures their faces if she can recall them, just in case they ever came back.

She inhales a sharp gust of ocean air through her nostrils, welcoming the clarity that spreads through her mind. Parting her lips (the lips Frankie always teased were in a permanent pout), she released the breath slowly, trying to relax the stressed scrunch in her features.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that someday.”

The voice is familiar. A deep, breathy chuckle, barrel-toned and gravelly. It sounds like home.

taglist: @mishasminion360

[caiminnent]

reasons I have kissed you today [domestic kylux fluff, rated T]

Prompt(s): Day 1 - Comforts by @kyluxpositivity​, based on a @foxes-in-love​ comic.

Summary: It dawns on Kylo, how empty his life had felt before Hux. It still feels like a dream, sometimes: something that may slip through his fingers like sand if he opens his eyes. Ben had never imagined that he could be loved with the focused, intense way Hux loves Kylo—never thought he could love someone so fiercely, either. How in the world did he get so lucky?

Or: a marriage in ten kisses.

Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Married Couple, Armitage Hux Wears Glasses, Established Relationship, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Coffee as a Metaphor for Love

Notes: Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash.

3.2K || Also on AO3

i. we woke up

Kylo wakes up in the middle of the night.

Taking a deep breath, he blinks up at the ceiling with aching eyes, distantly wondering what disturbed him. The room is bathed in the dim, half-light of early morning, the streetlights drawing orange shapes on the far wall.

Too kriffing early to be up on a Sunday.

Hux is still sound asleep next to him. A car passes, the headlights illuminating the room enough for Kylo to see the lines of his face for a moment: smooth and relaxed, the way they rarely are while his high-strung husband is awake.

The urge to reach out and run his touch over the long lines of Hux’s hands, to feel the skin-warmed metal on his finger grips Kylo. It’s not insecurity; Hux headed off half-joking remarks about Hux eventually taking the ring off so swiftly that Kylo doesn’t carry more than the passing, baseless worry brought by the occasional bad brain day. He just enjoys the physical reminder that Hux is his.

Hux’s alarm goes off, startling Kylo. Unlike the groggy, half-hearted way Kylo wakes, Hux commits to it: When he opens his eyes and reaches to turn his alarm off, he’s ready to take on the day ahead.

Scratching his stubble, Hux looks over to Kylo, finding him already watching. “Good morning, you creep.”

Kylo smiles, rising on an elbow. Brushing a strand away from Hux’s eyes, “Mornin’,” he mumbles, leaning over to kiss Hux.

“Ugh, morning breath,” Hux grumbles, but he’s smiling, too.

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

ii. you made me caf

The next time Kylo wakes, the room is finally bright with the morning light. Hux’s table clock reads half past nine.

He rolls onto his back, running a hand down his face. His body feels anchored to the bed, the caked warmth of the room weighing his eyelids down. Part of him wants to press his face on the cold side of the pillow and ignore the world for a few more hours. He might have, maybe, if the other side of the bed weren’t despicably empty.

The bitter scent of caf filtering in through the ajar door helps with the decision, too.

Stepping into yesterday’s shorts, Kylo shuffles to the kitchen, where Hux is making himself his nth cup of tarine tea as the caf machine drips Kylo’s java into the pot. Hux’s favorite coaster sits next to his book on the kitchen island, the bookmark sticking out somewhere near the end.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” Hux says without turning, mixing low-fat milk into his tea with the preciseness of a surgeon.

Not ready to be awake yet, Kylo grunts in response, grabbing the A/C remote off the caf table before dropping himself on the couch. He sets the temperature as low as Hux can stand—which isn’t much, but it’s infinitely better than getting cooked in the summer heat that’s seeping in through their south-facing windows.

Hux comes over with a big mug and a coaster, placing the latter on the caf table. Keeping the caf hostage, he extends his cheek, awaiting his payment of a kiss first. Kylo is more than happy to give it.

Satisfied, Hux surrenders the mug and returns to his book. The A/C kicks in in full force, blasting cool air right onto Kylo’s heated skin.

It’s perfect.

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

iii. I passed you by on my way to the kitchen

They have different ideas of how a Sunday works.

For Kylo, it’s time to finally leave the workweek behind and enjoy himself. He likes to curl on the couch with Hux and watch a movie, go out for a late lunch, take evening walks without his phone. Hux, on the other hand, sees it as an opportunity to prepare for the next week; he takes up laundry and deep-cleaning, while Kylo is tasked with cooking meals to re-heat for dinner over the next week and ironing.

Kylo manages to postpone the inevitable until the third time Hux reminds him of it, the thin line of Hux’s mouth promising hell if Kylo doesn’t get on with it already. Kylo dutifully closes the lid of his laptop and heads to the kitchen, pausing to drop a peck on Hux’s lips in apology.

“Don’t think you’re forgiven,” Hux says after him, his tone already softer.

-----------------------------  

iv. you passed by while going to the shower

Once done with the cleaning, “I’m going to take a shower,” Hux announces, going through the folded pile of newly pressed clothes. Putting the flat iron aside, Kylo helps him find a shirt and the pair of khaki shorts that make Hux’s thighs look sinful, wrapping an arm around his waist to show how much he appreciates the choice already.

“Kylo, I’m reeking,” Hux complains, batting a hand at him. Kylo puts a wet kiss on that spot under his ear before letting him go.

Hux shakes his head in disapproval, but his look is fond.

-----------------------------  

v. you were gaming and didn’t hear me sneak up on you

Long after the shower turned off, Hux still hasn’t come back to the living room.

Kylo finds him at the study, hunched over his cherished desktop with Kylo’s sound-cancelling headphones on. Perfect. Seizing the opportunity, Kylo tiptoes into the room until he’s right behind Hux, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Hux jumps with a loud curse, the mouse tumbling off the desk as he rips the headphones off. The look he pins Kylo with over his work glasses is almost funnier than the reaction, though Kylo keeps his laughter in check. Hux is nothing if not vindictive.

“Sorry,” Kylo says with an apologetic half-grin, kissing the top of Hux’s head to appease him. On the screen, that city building game of Hux’s is on, snowy plains and mountains interspersed with black and gray buildings stretching on and on. “Still working on Starkiller Base?”

Hux grunts in affirmative, bending to pick up the mouse. A few clicks take care of whatever Kylo messed up; Hux switches to the live view afterwards, watching the flow of movement in different parts of the map.

A month ago, the base was a big, almost brutalist complex seated in the middle of vast whiteness, most of the structures placed underneath a dome until Hux built proper snow protection—or so Hux explained while giving Kylo the grand tour. It looks more like a military base now: Pairs of white-clad soldiers stomp through long, well-lit hallways in rhythm while spaceships with hexagonal wings circle around, black shuttles whizzing around underneath them.

Hux switches back to build mode, scrolling to the edge of the base, where a large watercourse—that might be a stream or river; Kylo can’t make sense of the scaling in this game—circles a white building with red, blinking lights at the top.

“What’s that?” Kylo asks, pointing at the building. Admittedly, it looks about the same as most others to him, but it seems like something Hux might be excited to talk about.

Hux pushes the glasses higher, giving him a sidelong glance. “A fusion power plant,” he says gruffly, deleting some of the pipeline between the plant and the body of water. “I thought one of these would be enough to power the entire base, but the upgraded stations are draining all the electricity. I’m trying to see how many more plants I can build without having a drought problem.”

Kylo hums, leaning in to get a closer look. Hux breaks into an explanation on how the plant works, outlining the current infrastructure at large and his next plans for the base, scrolling around the map where needed. Kylo watches the way Hux’s hands dance on the keyboard, the glint in his eyes and falls in love all over again.

-----------------------------  

vi. I was bored

Money never sleeps; neither does First Order Inc., apparently.

“I’m so sorry,” Hux says for the hundredth time as Kylo brings him a new cup of caf—which by itself speaks for the direness of whatever task Snoke just dropped into his lap. “I didn’t know it would take this long.”

Kylo doesn’t say it’s okay, because it’s not. They could’ve finished season 3 in the time Hux sunk into work, and it doesn’t look like he will be done anytime soon. It isn’t Hux’s fault though, so he says, “I know what Snoke’s like, too,” instead. Transferring to Resistance HQ was his second-best decision in life.

While Hux works, Kylo busies himself with his phone, scrolling through the holonet and catching up on the latest news that he doesn’t give a damn about. Daytime TV is as shitty as it’s always been, and he’s not stupid enough to Netflix-cheat in front of Hux, so he runs out of things to do within the next hour.

Hux’s eyes are fixated on his screen, his mechanical keyboard clack-clack-clacking rapidly. “Are you almost finished?” Kylo asks, dropping his phone on the caf table. Hux jerks his head up, blinking at him owlishly. “You’ve been at it for a while. Will you be done soon?”

Hux’s lips twist in remorse. “I’m really sorry.”

Kylo sighs, pushing off the couch. Circling around the kitchen island, he towers over Hux, crossing his arms. A plethora of spreadsheets decorate Hux’s screen, all split in multiple ways.

“Why don’t you take a break,” he says, less a suggestion than a veiled threat. “You’ve been sitting there for hours; you need to get your blood back in your head.”

“I don’t want to lose my momentum,” Hux mutters, adding several closed parentheses at the end of a formula. Another moment and he’s practically forgotten that Kylo is still standing there.

Kylo scoffs, giving him a hard stare. Hux doesn’t even look his way, buried in his color-coded columns and rows.

Fine.

Kylo puts a hand on Hux’s arm, stepping smoothly behind him. Sliding both hands to Hux’s shoulders, he presses his thumbs into the tight muscle below Hux’s neck, dragging a half-pain, half-pleasure grunt out of him.

Brushing a light kiss over the short hair on Hux’s nape, “Take a break,” Kylo says, lowering his tone to the timbre that Hux enjoys. Hux doesn’t shiver as Kylo hoped, but at least the clattering of the keyboard stopped. “Snoke has you six days of the week. Spend one with me.”

Hux snorts. “You mean on you. Are you that bored?”

“Out of my damn mind,” Kylo admits easily. “Seriously, Snoke won’t even remember that report until mid-week. The great FO won’t fall because you didn’t send one file early. You’ve done enough, you can finish it tomorrow.”

Hux drums his fingers on the island, silent as he thinks it over. Kylo encourages him by massaging the base of his neck, the area between his shoulder blades, skimming around his ribs to graze his sweet spots.

“Give me one hour,” Hux says, sounding for all the world like it’s taking him great pains to capitulate. Kylo hides his grin in the crook of Hux’s neck. “Either it’ll get done by then or I’ll be done with it.”

-----------------------------  

vii. I was tired

The evening falls, the oppressive heat giving way to a gentle warmth in the air. With 47 minutes to go on Hux’s countdown, Kylo decides to stretch his legs for a bit.

A walk around the block turns into a casual jog, then a run until the discomfort of having gone rusty gives way to a quiet head and the feeling of being on top of the world. He almost doesn’t want to stop and get back home, but home is where Hux is and he will always go back to Hux.

He walks the way back, taking the scenic route to cool off a little. When he walks inside, he finds Hux lying on the couch with a new book, still wearing the glasses.

The couch is big enough for two; they tested it. Multiple times. Still, Kylo drapes himself all over Hux instead, throwing an arm and leg over him.

“Kylo,” Hux grumbles, rescuing his book from under Kylo. He hits Kylo on the hip with it. “I’ve just cleaned the sofa.”

“Too tired to shower,” Kylo lies into Hux’s shoulder, turning his face to kiss Hux’s collarbone. For all that Hux seems made up of sharp edges, he’s unexpectedly comfortable to rest on. Kylo doesn’t feel like letting go of him just yet.

Putting his book in the empty space by them, Hux reaches down to grope Kylo’s ass, dipping a hand between his legs and back up. Tease. Kylo raises his hips with an impatient hum. Between the bliss still running in his system and the smoky, woodsy scent of Hux’s cologne in his nose, it won’t take much to get him going.

A hard pinch to his thigh makes Kylo yelp. “Hux!” he hisses, rising on his elbows to glare at him.

Hux grins up at him smugly. “You’re clearly not too tired,” he says, batting Kylo on the hip again. “Now go and wash up. If you’re fast enough, we may even continue this.”

-----------------------------  

viii. I was happy

Too lazy to set the table, they eat on trays in front of the TV.

Hux is an objectively horrible person to watch things with. He has the unique ability to find something to hate in everything he lays eyes on; his scathing, running commentary often drowns out whatever is playing. Not even the things he loves are safe from his sharp tongue.

Still, Kylo loves these calm moments with Hux more than anything: sitting nearly pressed up even though there’s space, bantering through the slower scenes, rewinding the important ones until they’ve pointed out every little detail to each other. Now that Kylo’s experienced this, he can never go back to being a passive audience.

The show ends—exactly where it shouldn’t. They speculate on the loose ends through the dishwashing routine, picking holes in each other’s theories until it becomes a debate, each defending their point with zeal and dish soap bubbles. By the time they agree to disagree, they both got their fair share of suds all over them, their sides aching from laughter.

It dawns on Kylo, how empty his life had felt before Hux. It still feels like a dream, sometimes: something that may slip through his fingers like sand if he opens his eyes. Ben had never imagined that he could be loved with the focused, intense way Hux loves Kylo—never thought he could love someone so fiercely, either. How in the world did he get so lucky?

His heart too big for his chest, he takes Hux’s ring hand in his, kissing the inside of his wrist. Hux’s soft smile lights up Kylo’s insides.

-----------------------------  

ix. you were there

Leia calls to ask what they’re going to bring to the Life Day dinner.

Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mom, it’s August,” he points out, suppressing his scoff. “We barely know what we’re gonna eat next week.”

“There were too many potato dishes last year,” Leia says evenly, unmoved. “I need to make sure this year’s spread will be more balanced.”

The front door clicks open, closing just as quietly. Throwing the phone on the bed by his ear, Kylo listens to the routine sounds of Hux putting away his shoes and bags instead. Call him clingy; knowing that Hux is home with him, even if they aren’t in the same room, comforts Kylo.

A moment later, Hux steps in, two mini-cups of ice cream in hand. The best husband in the universe, hands down. Hux extends a cup and a spoon to him, nodding at the phone in question.

Kill me, Kylo mouths, sitting upright to take the ice cream. Leia is still chattering on the other end of the line, something about acorn squash and broccoli. Kylo puts her on speaker to make Hux share his suffering.

“I told Poe to bring the pecan pie,” Leia continues, clearly not minding Kylo’s lack of reply. Hux sits down next to him, digging into his own cup. “Rey wanted to make it again, but—between us, of course—she can never get the crust right, so she and Phasma will bring garlic bread instead. Armitage’s focaccia is straight out of heaven, but I don’t want to load up on bread. You’ll need to choose something else, I’m afraid.”

Licking his spoon clean, “Hello, Leia,” Hux says. “We were planning to bring, um, blue milk biscuits and green bean casserole. Is that all right?”

“Of course, Armitage,” Leia responds, the warmth of her tone increasing a few degrees. If she’s surprised to hear Hux’s voice, she doesn’t let on. “That would be great.”

“Wonderful,” Hux says, feigning cheer. “Now, you must have many people to call yet; we oughtn’t keep you any longer. I’m sure Kylo will catch up with you at a better time.”

Kylo will do nothing of the sort.

Once they say their farewells and hang up, Kylo releases a long breath. Conversations with his mother always take something out of him, no matter the subject. Hells if he knows how he got through them before Hux came along.

He reaches for Hux’s forearm, squeezing it in a silent thanks. It’s the easiest thing in the world to drag his hand up Hux’s arm, shoulder, neck and to cup his jaw, pulling him down for a kiss.

Hux tastes of strawberries and chocolate. Kylo can’t get enough of it.

-----------------------------  

x. no reason at all

Like every good thing in life, Sunday ends.

Kylo putters around the apartment until he has no chance but to slink into the bedroom. An unnecessary and unneeded part of his routine, the if I sleep, it’ll be a workday morning dread that starts creeping up as soon as it gets dark. It’s not even that he hates his job; he just loathes the end of his free time.

Hux is already in bed, probably finishing up his weekly review and preview like the freak he is. He puts the phone aside when Kylo enters, waiting for Kylo with his hands folded on his stomach.

For a moment, all Kylo can do is stop and stare, his breath catching in his lungs. With his lightly tousled hair bright against the bedding and his dainty ankles casually crossed, Hux is a sight to see. No one has a right to look that good in sleepwear, much less the feared CTO of First Order.

Kylo crosses the room in three steps, climbing onto Hux’s side of the bed and crawling over him. Supporting himself on one elbow, he leans down and kisses Hux deeply; Hux opens up for him without skipping a beat, pulling Kylo even closer.

Once they part, “What was that for?” Hux asks, running the backs of two fingers down Kylo’s face with an amused slant to his lips.

Kylo shrugs. “No reason at all.”

[newtonsheffield]

oh my GOD I love your headcanon with Edwina and drunk Anthony!! Could we maybe get more headcanons with drunk Kate and Anthony (maybe after their stag and hen nights) and them being sloppy and cute?

Oh Heyyyyyyyy

Drunk Anthony is a handsy lil’ Cutie is he not? He just wants everyone to know how much he loves Kate. Drunk Kate is a mess all singing, all dancing, as she tries to tuck random things in her purse. Edwina, Lucy and the Bridgerton gals had their work quite cut out for them as the attempted to herd drunk Kate through London which was about as successful as herding a cat. Benedict, Colin, Gregory, and Simon were no more successful with Anthony who just kept begging to get to go home to Kate. Fortunately for us, both of these nights Coincided. Someone else was also interested in this concept! 

Anon asked: Hey given the craziness of Sophie’s hen party I can only imagine how Kate’s and Anthony’s went. Can we get a Drabble for both of them? PS I know your ask box is crazy full so sorry for this lol My inbox is crazy, butttt I have had a sandwich and I am ready to do this! 

Let’s give this a Lil’ peep shall we!

“I Think I’m in love with Anthony!” Kate yelled loudly in her sister’s ear over the music in the bar. Edwina laughed loudly.  “I should hope so, you’re marrying him in a week.” She said, and Kate shook her head, her glazed eyes, wide as though she had to tell her sister very important. It was all Edwina could do not to keep from laughing. 

“Nooooo.” Kate moaned, “You don’t understand!” She said turning to Lucy, who was swaying just slightly, as Kate wrapped her arms around her.  “La la la Lucy!” She sung, very loudly, and endearingly, Edwina bit her lip to keep from laughing “That’s what Gregory calls you!” and then she gasped loudly! “Oh my GOSH LUCY! You should marry Gregory! You should marry Gregory and then we’ll be like sisters! I’m a good sister, you can ask Eddie!” Kate said, her words slurring together. Lucy who was only a little less drunk than Kate, seemingly with no idea how she came to be in this position. 

Edwina knew it was that Daphne, who was heavily pregnant had decided to have her fun by topping up everyone’s drinks in secret. The results were, Edwina had to admit, impressive. Francesca and Eloise seemed to be taking it in turns photograph themselves with a a potted tree in the corner, Lucy had impressed everyone with an display of gymnastics across the back of the booths, Edwina had heard the bartender, Chris mutter Jesus Fucking christ How did she not break her neck in those heels?! 

“She is a good sister Lucy!” She said loudly, her own head feeling more than a little fuzzy “You should marry Gregory!” Lucy blushed, spilling her drink a little as she shook her head “I wanna marry Gregory! He’s sooo pretty! And his glasses are so cute! But he hasn’t asked me! Like, what if he doesn’t wanna marry me?!” Lucy yelled, her words tumbling out, falling over each other. Kate tutted.

“No! NO! You’re so great! Of course he wants to marry you! I’ll call him, and I’ll tell him to marry you. And then I’m gonna ask Anthony if he wants to marry me!” Kate said her drink spilling onto their shoes, pulling her phone out, tapping away at the screen. Edwina laughed “Katie! You’re getting married to Anthony next week.”  “I miss Anthony! Eddie, I love him Sooo much every time I’m around him I just want to rip his clothes off and-” 

“Ooop.” Daphne cut in, “I think we’ve had enough of that, Kate. Though I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Kate’s eyes widened comically, Lucy had drifted back towards the dancefloor.  “Daphne! Oh my god! DAPHNE!” Kate said, wrapping her arms messily around her soon to be sister in law. “I love your brother AND I think I’m gonna MARRY him! And because of that, you should ask the bartender to play ABBA! GIMME! GIMME! GIMME!” Daphne laughed loudly, eyeing Edwina carefully before whispering  “At least she hasn’t stolen anything this time.” as she disappeared to the bar. And Edwina had to admit, Daphne had a point. Kate tugged firmly on her arm! 

“Eddie! I love this SONG!” She yelled as the opening bars started. “Ugh! I want Anthony! I wish he was here! Eddie, he’s sooo Handsome sometimes in the middle of the night I have to wake him up because I want to-” 

“KATE!” It was like she had summoned him, and honestly thank god, because there were few things Edwina wanted less than to hear about her sister’s nighttime exploits with her future husband. Anthony had burst through the door wearing what appeared to be a shirt bearing the words If Lost please return to Kate Sheffield, and promptly had his arms around Kate, whispering (loudly) in her ear.  “KATE I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!”  Gregory had found Lucy, and the two of them appeared to be attempting to recreate the dance from Dirty Dancing (Badly) Colin had joined Eloise and was Currently hoisting Francesca onto his shoulders for a photograph. Benedict appeared to be arguing with Daphne  “Edwina! Edwina Have you met my Fiancée Kate?! Isn’t she just the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen?!” Anthony was saying desperately, his arms still wrapped around Kate, who had her face buried in his neck. Edwina’s heart clenched. Despite the ridiculousness she had to admit it was very sweet that her sister’s soon to be husband was so enamoured with her.  “Yes, Anthony, I’m familiar with Kate. And yes, she’s pretty great!” Edwina said, the corners of her mouth ticking upwards. 

“Hey, I LOVE YOU!” Kate yelled at her fiancé grinning, and Anthony’s head spun towards her his eyes wide, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” He yelled back, and then his lips were on Kate’s, his hands wandering a little obscenely.  “Okay. Well.” Edwina said to no one in particular, averting her eyes and joining Benedict and Daphne at the bar. 

“Honestly, Ben. What are you doing here?! Could you not handle Anthony for one night?” Daphne tutted, Benedict sighed  “Honestly, I couldn’t take his Where’s Kate,  love Kate, Kate’s so amazing It’s a little exhausting. Besides, look at them,” Benedict said, Gesturing at Gregory who had just caught Lucy in a rather spectacular lift “I’m clearly not in control of the situation.” 

The bartender tapped Edwina on the shoulder. “Eddie, I know we know each other, but I have to draw the line at public indecency.” He said gesturing to something over her shoulder. Edwina turned her head and immediately wished she was Anywhere else “No! Kate! Put Anthony’s shirt back on!” Edwina yelled a little startled. Thinking to herself that this was truly the last time she was ever going out with the Bridgertons 

It wasn’t.        

[urisk-factor]

Ok I wanted to throw out a few of my own Heartless Headcannons, entirely the Jury, mostly Dock. TW for blood, mentions of animal testing, dead corpses, rats, organs, violence, and stuff that Dock would do. I'm just gonna tag this as body horror because I guess that counts. Oh and I headcannon Dock and Alastor as married too, sorry (not sorry), I don't make the rules.

Dock once, a month or two after graduating from medical school, got really drunk and blacked out. In the morning, he found a giant teddy bear and a human body in his room, with the organs from the human in the teddy, and the stuffing from the teddy in the human. He has no idea what happened that night and has no idea how he did it or where he got the teddy, let alone the body.

Bandy somehow knows everything before it's public. He knew that Alastor and Dock are married, he knew about Heartless, he knew about Lance's stash of "chewed items", he knew about Lorelei's black swan dress, and he knew about Diana's pet owl.

Anyways, like I said, Diana has a pet owl that she took care of since his mother left him. He's call Ben, and she likes saying stuff like "Ben killed and ate a mouse that I've been trying to shoot for weeks, he's a good boy, bless his heart" to people she's just met but have warmed up to enough to speak.

Lorelei sometimes calls Dock her "skirt buddy" to annoy him and he just accepts it.

Dock really hates animal testing, and once beat a guy to an inch of his life for testing drugs on rats. He took the rats and he still has them. They're old and well looked after.

Alastor once got so annoyed with a guy who was somehow bigger than Dock that he climbed up Dock's cloak, sat himself on Dock's shoulders, and started berating the man. Lorelei, Lance, and Bandy got in on video camera.

Their curses come from heavily repressed magic.

Their ages are Lance and Bandy at twenty-nine (29), Lorelei at thirty-two (32), Diana at thirty-seven (37), Alastor at thirty-nine (39), and Dock at fourty-three (43).

Dock's real name isn't actually Dock, but is instead Daniel Harrowmoore. Daniel Harrowmoore may or may not be wanted for arson. All Dock will say is that it was an accident.

Diana is somewhere between craving physical touch and hating physical touch at all times.

They leave notes on the fridge. The only ones who can read Dock's atrocious hand writing (it's the doctor hand writing) is Alastor because he's so familiar with doctor hand writing, and Diana because she made a code for it.

Following on from that last one, Lance once wrote "okay I am convinced that you're not even writing words anymore" under one of Dock's notes.

Lorelei has handwriting so neat and curvy and pretty that it's almost as impossible to read as Dock's, not quite though.

Lance, Lorelei, and Alastor are cat people, Bandy and Diana are dog people, and Dock just really loves animals of all kinds, especially if they're considered unlucky or horrible or something.

They have this sort of truck thing, with three seets in the front, three in the back, and then the boot. In the front, Diana drives (she's the only one who can drive), Dock navigates, and Alastor sits between them and helps Dock sometimes. In the back, Lorelei, Lance, and Bandy all sing show showtunes and get on the front three's nerves.

Well that's not totally true. When Dock was in his twenties, he had a motorcycle, but it was stolen and he never got it back.

Alastor is the only one allowed to hug Dock and vice versa. They're very affectionate towards each other, with Dock often coming up behind Alastor, wrapping his arms around Alastor's chest, and wresting his head on Alastor's. Alastor is a bit more nervous but will sometimes just zoom over to Dock and cling to his side.

Alastor's coat used to be Dock's. When Alastor first met Dock, it was really cold, in the middle of a snowstorm, in a giant city, alone, at twenty-one (21), at approximately three o'clock in the morning. He was walking down the street, shivering, when Dock just happened to leave a small twenty-four hour store, saw Alastor, and just went, "yup, small, shivering, not a threat, hey I wonder if he wants this jacket? I don't need it". Dock offered it and Alastor accepted, grateful. They would meet again a few years later and Dock recognized him by the same coat.

Dock has a bad habit of working for days straight, then heading back to his room/home or wherever he sleeps and just crashes and sleeps for the rest of the week. Only a Lorelei scream can wake him.

Not really a headcannon but my mind randomly went "what if the Jury aren't witch hunters, and are instead witches, pretending to be witch hunters, to save other witches, and this whole Heartless and Co. situation was just one big misunderstanding that could easily be solved by simple communication" and I thought it was funny.

Once the paparazzi were following the Jury leaders around, to the point of it probably being a crime, so Alastor invited them into the Jury HQ and told the leaders to be as obscene and messy and dickish as possible. Dock walked in, covered head to toe in blood, with a still beating heart of unknown origins. Just imagine this giant, massive thing, probably bigger than Dock's head. So anyways, he walks in with it in his hands, walks over to the head interviewer or whatever, dumped in into his lap, and said "I hope you find it just as delicious as I do." They left incredibly quickly after that, and never even looked in the Jury's direction after that.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

I’ve Been Looking for the Sunshine

For @baloobird (@friendly-neighborhood-exchange)

Rating: G

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Ben Parker

Summary: Eleven years after the death of his parents and two years after the death of his uncle, Peter finds comfort in Tony Stark.

Prompt: Peter has a rough day at school so Tony picks him up early and finds a way to cheer him up.

Tag List: @justrepostandlove @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @hold-our-destiny @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @iron-loyalty Read on ao3

Richard Parker was twenty four years old when his wife handed him a pregnancy test with a pink plus sign on it. He felt his face break into a wide grin and he scooped her into his arms with a laugh.

He was twenty five years old when he held his baby boy for the first time and he fell instantly in love. Up until he held his son in his arms, he had been nervous that he would be a terrible father and that he had no idea what he was doing. But looking down at little Peter, Richard knew that he’s mess up a thousand times, he would never be the perfect father, but as long as Peter knew he was safe and loved, it didn’t matter.

When a baby is born, there’s a few days before it really seems like they’ve gained consciousness. Richard got to witness that moment. He leaned over Peter’s crib and saw his boy looking back up at him. Peter’s face broke into a wide, gummy smile and blinked happily up at his dad. Richard was honest enough to say he cried and immediately called Mary into the room.

“Mom and I will just be gone for a few days, okay?” Richard asked. Peter nodded. “Remember to be good for Uncle Ben and Aunt May.” Another nod. “Good boy,” Richard patted Peter’s cheek affectionately. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

Peter frowned, “Promise?” 

Richard smiled, “I promise.” He pulled Peter into a hug, pressing a kiss to his son’s curly mess of hair. When Peter pulled back, Richard did as well. He pressed another kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you, buddy. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” 

Ben Parker was twenty six years old when he got a phone call telling him his brother and his sister-in-law had died in a plane crash. He was twenty six when he became the legal guardian of his nephew, Peter. 

It was no surprise to May or Ben that Richard and Mary’s death hit Peter hard. But with a child suddenly being put into their care, they couldn’t afford to put Peter through any sort of grief counseling. Many nights a week, Ben would sit with Peter in his bed, trying desperately to get the kid to fall asleep. Often times only for Peter to wake up in the middle of the night asking for his parents through thick curtains of tears.

When Ben was thirty three, Peter turned thirteen and Ben realized that he had now been Peter’s guardian longer than Richard had been his dad. 

When Peter was fifteen years old, he watched his uncle die. He watched rain spread the blood down the pavement, making the wound almost look clean. But Peter knew better. He held his uncle’s hand while he died, ambulance sirens roaring from blocks away. 

With his last moments, Ben reached a hand up to Peter’s cheek and said painfully, “You’re going to be okay, kid.” 

Peter clutched Ben’s hand to his cheek. He wanted so desperately to apologize, to thank him, to say anything, but Peter couldn’t find the will in him to make more than a strangled sound as he desperately hugged his uncle. 

Ben was gone before the ambulance even reached them. 

Peter is seventeen years old and he doesn’t know if he can manage to pull himself out of his bed. 

But he hears May moving in the kitchen and if she can do it, so can he. She was the one that really knew them, not Peter. So with a heavy sigh, Peter sits up and pulls open his blinds. The sky is covered with a thick layer of clouds. Good, Peter thinks, he doesn’t know if he could have handled sunshine today. Peter takes his time getting ready for school, fog weighing heavily on his mind. 

When he makes his way into the kitchen for some breakfast, May stops where she’s pouring herself a glass of water and envelops Peter into a hug. On days like today, Peter wishes he hadn’t had his growth spurt so he would fit perfectly into her arms. But he settles for just putting his head on her shoulder. When they pull apart, May gives him a sad look. 

“You sure you want to go to school today?” May asks. 

“Yeah,” Peter shrugs her worries off. “It’ll be good to get out of the apartment.” 

“Okay, baby.” 

Peter walks slowly to school, barely making it to first period in time. Both Ned and MJ give him supportive smiles as he sits down. The first part of the day passes like a blur, Peter couldn’t say a single thing that happened to him. He knew that Ned was constantly a pillar at his side, squeezing his hand occasionally. And for all her snark, MJ was taking care of him too. It didn’t escape his notice that she was taking notes for him in all of their classes. 

That is until Peter finds himself alone in the hallway, Ned and MJ having split off to their respective classes, leaving Peter to find his on his own. He just ducks his head and keeps walking, muscle memory taking him to his next class. Out of nowhere, someone shoves him and slams him up against the lockers, keeping him there with their forearm. 

Flash looks at him with a smirk, “What’s wrong with you, Penis?” 

Peter sighs, “You ask me that every day. What do you want to make fun of me for this time?” Peter asks, his voice almost dead pan. “I’m scrawny? I’m smart? I’m ace? Pick your poison.” 

Flash looks at him in confusion, but before the bully can say anything, Peter shoves Flash off of him, using just enough of his super strength to make him stumble. With that Peter walks down the now empty hall. But before he can get very far, someone grabs on to his backpack, yanking him backwards. 

Peter lets out a noise of surprise as suddenly a fist collides with his cheek. Normally, Peter’s spider-sense would warn him of something like that, but not in this moment. The punch impacts Peter more than he expected and he goes crashing back into the lockers. Some sick part of Peter’s mind tells him that he deserves it. 

Peter sees the second punch coming and dodges out of the way. At this point, Peter is far too mentally exhausted to deal with any more of Flash’s shit so he jumps to his feet and runs straight out the front doors of the school. 

He thinks about calling May, but Peter decides against it and instead plops down on the cold stairs. The sting of the punch is already fading back into the dull numbness he’s been feeling all day. Peter doesn’t know how long he sits on the steps of the school. No one approaches him and no one passing on the street spares him a passing glance. 

The cloud breaks after a little bit, allowing the sun to pass over the city. Peter sags a bit further, of course the sky is taunting him. But he is pulled from his thoughts only moments later when a sleek black car rolls up in front of Midtown and from the driver’s side steps out Tony Stark. He gives Peter a wave and beckons him over. 

Peter goes eagerly and sits in the passenger seat, shoving his backpack by his feet. “What are you doing here?” Peter asks once Tony is sitting back down. 

“May called, said you were probably having a rough day and she wanted me to pick you up early.” 

“Oh.” Peter pulls his feet up onto the seat and tucks his knees to his chest. He glances over at Tony and sees an expression of pity and concern on his face. “She told you what today is, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah, kid.” Tony reaches over and squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Peter shakes his head and looks out the window, “All I want to do is not exist.” 

Tony sighs, “I understand the feeling, kiddo. But I’m afraid that’s not possible with our current technology. Would you settle for some ice cream and maybe a movie or two?” 

“Cookie dough?” Peter asks quietly, glancing back at Tony.

Tony smiles, “What other flavor is there?” A faint smile crossed Peter’s lips. 

Once they get to the tower and up to the living room, Tony lovingly forces Peter to sit on the couch while he goes and gets the ice cream from the freezer. Peter immediately tugs the softest blanket into his lap and toes off his shoes. When Tony sits down beside Peter, the boy instantly curls into his mentor’s side, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and his knees against Tony’s stomach. Six months ago Peter never would have fathomed being this openly affectionate with Tony, but now Peter couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Tony wraps his arms around the boy’s shoulders and hugs him closer. 

As Peter takes his first bite of ice cream, he suddenly feels just a little bit better. The cold ice cream starts to clear some of the fog from his mind. 

While Peter eats, Tony picks a movie. It’s something animated, light and not too deep. Perfect. It doesn’t escape Peter’s notice that Tony has the volume just low enough that if Peter wanted to say something he could. 

While the opening credits roll, Tony reaches up and begins to run his fingers through Peter’s hair. Peter preens into the touch and sags further into Tony’s side. Peter says nothing for a while, but it’s clear that he’s clearly thinking deeply about something.

“Tony?” Peter asks softly when the movie’s almost over. 

“Mmhm?” 

“Do you think my parents are mad at me?” 

Tony frowns and rubs his arm, “Why would you think that, buddy?” 

Peter shugs, “Because I don’t remember them. They died eleven years ago and all I could do today was try to remember them. I only know what they look like because May shows me pictures sometimes, but I don’t remember the sounds of their voices and I don’t remember anything we did together, I-I don’t even remember the last thing they said to me. I-” 

Peter cuts himself off with a sob that tears Tony’s heart in two. Tony immediately sits up and crushes Peter to his chest. Peter clings to his mentor just as tightly, sobbing into his shirt. “I’ve got you, bambino.” Tony gently runs his fingers through Peter’s hair, rocking him slightly back and forth. Tony whispers words of comfort to the boy. 

After a few minutes, Peter lifts his head, wipes his nose on his sleeve and murmurs, “Sorry.” 

“Hey,” Tony squeezes his shoulder, “you never need to be sorry for crying, okay?” Peter nods shakily and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Can I tell you something?” Peter nods. “I don’t remember much about my mother either. I have a few memories, but I know that my mother would never be upset with me for not remembering. I think she’d be happy that I’m moving on with my life. I didn’t know your parents, or your uncle, but I know that if I were to die, I wouldn’t be upset about people forgetting me. I’d be happy that they kept living.” Tony gives Peter a sad smile. 

“Listen, kid, when someone passes, the last thing they want is for the people who love them to stay in their sadness forever. I bet that your parents and your uncle are so proud of the person you’ve become.” Tony squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be sad and it’s okay to still feel grief over their deaths, but it’s also okay to keep living. Because the people who’re gone aren’t really ever gone, right?” Peter nods tearfully and tucks himself back into Tony’s arms. 

Tony leans back, pulling the kid to rest more on his chest. “It’s going to be okay, bambino, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.” 

Richard, Mary, and Ben are gone. They’re gone but they’ve never stopped loving their son and their nephew. They’ve watched Peter grow up and start to change the world around him. And though they wish they could be there with him to hug him and tell him it’ll be alright, they know that in time they’ll all be together again. And while they wait for him, they’re content to know that Tony Stark is taking good care of him. 

[provider-of-pronoun-checks]

ok so first of all. ben Shapiro. fuckin hate the guy. but his voiceeeee{i cant clip this vid but like just like his voice yknwo}. i love the like.... almost nasally typa quality..? BUT his voice can get sorta annoying bc its pretty high pitched(i mean not really but like idk whatever) but also. theres. daron malakian.

first: not a bigot.

second: hot asf.

third: HE HAS THE SAME VOICE QUALITY THAT BENNY HAS !!1!1!

idk its sorta hard to find decent clips of him talking but heres one ig

HE SOUNDS LIKE BEN BUT LIKE NOT AS ANNOYING AND ALSO HES HIGH ASF. I LOVE DARON.

okay then theres also sam collins

so at first listen it just sounds like a basic pacific nw maybe cali typa accent right. BUT if you listen real close. theres this one vowel sound that he does {in that clip its the 'a' sound in 'answer'. its not a great example but i think it gets the point across okay} and i just. i love it. its like... vaguely european.?? like sorta how you say 'bath' in a posh british accent..? ig...? it does sometimes sound more like... north dublin typa vowel.

anyways. his like speech patterns and delivery reminds me a lot of frank iero. idk. theyre both from the new england area of the us so it makes sense(frank is from nj, sam is from boston). i dont really know how to explain it..? but yeah. like i feel like i cant just like show you one clip of each bc it wont show v well ig idk. but yeah. theres some things where ill wake up in the middle of the night and hear a clip of sam and then be like "when did yt go to a frank iero interview?"

anyway yeah if you or anyone who decided to read this knows both frank and sam, pleaseeeee tell me in not going insane fkandns

but ye i really like examining certain vowel sounds or phrasing and comparing them yknow dksknd

okay thats enough rambling abt that. also by god do i regret making it my brand to do text all colored like that fnsnncbs

xoxo💋

That's fair ig, to me the nasally is mostly annoying but eh.

Yooooo! Cool! He seems really cool.

Oh!! I used to watch Sam Collins!

Woah! I never noticed that before! That's so cool!

Heehee :D

That's fair! I like the way certain letters sound when I say them!

ahkdsaus I imagine it must be a lot of work!

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather Ch.8

Hi guys!

So exciting news. Sweater Weather is almost complete at this point to where I will try to post the latest chapters Wednesdays and Sundays. I'm really jazzed that I'm going to wrap this project up and excited to get started on new ones.

As always, thanks for being so patient and I cant wait to bring you guys more content this autumn season!

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

Ben woke up with Kenji’s face in his stomach, his body folded over him as he rest on a pillow laid over the larger man’s back.

The sun was just peeking through the trees and he heard a whine, Bumpy scratching at the front door.

“Kenji.” Ben called.

Kenji groaned.

“Kenji, Bumpy needs to go for a walk.” Ben said.

“No…”

“Kenji, we slept in the living room, come on.”

“I got her, Ben!” Carmen said and walked in the room, dressed in a cute set of rainbow snow boots and a matching jacket. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. You guys should take a power nap on the bed to straighten out your spines.”

“Thank you, Carmen.” Kenji said, voice muffled in Ben’s sternum.

Ben chuckled and pet the back of his head before lightly smacking it. “Come on.”

Kenji slapped his thigh back a little too hard.

“Ow! That hurt!” Ben huffed.

“I can kiss it better.” Kenji hummed.

“…you can reach more in bed.” Ben murmured and Kenji slid back and sat up.

“I’m up.” Kenji said and Ben laughed, pushing him back so he could hobble to their bedroom, pulling back the quilts and comforters and sliding in, Kenji not wasting a moment joining him.

Ben blushed and pulled him close, kissing his forehead as the larger man sighed softly. Kenji snuggled into the smaller man’s chest and Ben hugged him best he could.

“This is nice.” Kenji hummed and Ben chuckled.

“Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and for a moment, imagined dry grassland or manicured shrubbery around buildings in San Antonio.

He would wake up like this every morning. Maybe with Kenji curled around him, he curled around Kenji, back to back or to one of Kenji’s rare starfish moments. Ben would most likely wake up first and get coffee going, then whine for Kenji to cook something. They’d eat together, go to work, maybe shower or go grocery shopping together, Bumpy next to them on her leash.

Domestic and happy.

He didn’t think it was possible.

Some part of him felt he didn’t deserve it.

And a smaller part of him wanted to grab and hold on to the image of he and Kenji walking hand and hand into a building where people were laughing and hanging out, waving good morning to them and a wall of smiling families who they had helped near the door.

He felt Kenji’s breathing deepen and felt him relax into sleep, his fingers massaging his scalp through the black locks.

…could they get married and start a family too?

He blushed and hugged Kenji closer.

With both hands, he held on to the image tight.

He could be happy.

*

Ben woke to the smell of French toast, bacon and hazelnut coffee.

He blinked awake, noticing a large pillow in his arms instead of the firstborn Kon heir.

“Morning, Sleepybutt.” Kenji said as he walked in with a tray.

“Afternoon.” Ben said, glancing at the clock.

“Not noon yet.” Kenji said, holding the plate out. “And bacon is an all-day thing.”

“This is turkey bacon.” Ben said.

“Cause too much grease gives you heart burn.” Kenji said. “I listened to you complain on the phone with Sammy the other night.”

“I love you.” Ben sighed and took the plate, then froze.

Kenji was blushing and staring at him.

“I-I mean…”

“Yeah!” Kenji shouted. “I get it. Um, I forgot…cream! For the coffee!”

Kenji quickly escaped the room, leaving Ben to blush down at the food, hoping things couldn’t get more awkward.

*

Things got more awkward.

Ben and Kenji were walking to the lighthouse, hands brushing, but not touching after a tense brunch.

Carmen once again kept Bumpy close, Kenji asking Ben if he wanted to explore the old light house.

Trudging up the gravel path, they made it to the tall structure, Kenji opening the door for Ben.

“I thought this needs a lighthouse keeper.” Ben said.

“Owen checks on it every other night, but it’s fully on a timer and the diagnostics are sent to us if anything looks suspicious.” Kenji said.

“So…your lighthouse is on a timer?”

“Pretty much.” Kenji said. “Buuuut…”

He pulled Ben close and smiled.

“More privacy.” Kenji said and kissed Ben’s cold nose.

Ben scoffed and pushed him away, then started up the stairs, Kenji right behind him as they both raced to the top, Kenji winning with his longer legs. The smaller man panted and Kenji opened the door, the very breath leaving Ben as he walked out and saw over the lake.

“Oh…” He whispered and stared out over the water and snow.

Kenji came up behind him, hugging him around the waist. “What a view.”

Ben nodded.

They stood in silence for a moment, Kenji laying his cheek on the top of Ben’s head.

“You’d leave this for San Antonio?”

“I’d leave it for you and we’d visit together.”

“Kenji…” Ben turned. “I don’t want to be your reason for doing things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not Brooklynn.”

Kenji gasped softly. “I…I won’t lie, I swear!”

“And you will improve yourself for yourself too.” Ben said. “Not go along with whatever I say so we avoid conflicts. Real couples fight, Kenji.”

“I…What if we fight too much or I mess up, or we never figure it out?”

“Look at us now, Kenji.” Ben said, taking his hands. “Look how much we’ve figured out already.”

The shorter man closed his eyes.

“We don’t love each other, maybe we won’t really, or maybe…maybe we’ll be happy together forever.” Ben said. “But don’t treat me as all or nothing just yet. Don’t use me as a prop. When we go to the ball, just be my boyfriend and nothing else.”

“So…real boyfriend instead of fake boyfriend?”

Ben leaned forward and kissed his nose. “Exactly that.”

Kenji chuckled and pulled Ben close.

“Hey!”

They both looked down to see Owen and Carmen at the bottom of the lighthouse, looking up at the two.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Owen yelled. “So get packing!”

Kenji sighed and rested his forehead on Ben’s.

“Rain check?”

“Yeah.” Ben said and they waved down before going to the stairs.

*

Ben smiled as they were loaded into a van, Carmen sitting in the back with Bumpy as Ben and Kenji took the middle seats, holding hands and snuggled up together as Owen drove them to Seattle from the large boathouse they had docked the yacht in.

“So, how’s everything?” The bodyguard/assistant asked.

“Great.” Kenji said, leaning his head on Ben’s.

“They finally got together.” Carmen called.

“What?!” Kenji yelled. “You knew too?!”

“I’m your on-site bodyguard for a reason, kid.” Owen said with a smile.

Ben chuckled and looked up at Kenji. The taller man sighed and settled back into their cuddle, Bumpy jumping over the seats to lay in Ben’s lap as Carmen put on her headphones and started playing her switch.

“Hey.” He said softly and Ben looked up, eyes hooded with content.

“Hey.”

“Wanna go for a walk after dinner?” Kenji asked.

“Dinner with your parents?” Ben asked with a smile.

“The restaurant is in the hotel. We can go out for an hour or two with Bumpy to a café or the Space Needle or the Great Wheel…”

“I think it might be a little too late for all that. But maybe a café after I tell your parents I want to extend my stay?” Ben asked.

Kenji grinned and hugged Ben close.

“Aw.” Owen cooed and Kenji kicked the back of his seat.

*

Ben and Kenji were placed in a room together, Bumpy having a plush pet bed next to theirs.

Kenji was laying on his back as Ben changed from his dinner clothes into something more casual.

Dinner had been amazing, Kosei and Candy looking well rested despite the constant planning and rechecking of the ball’s supplies and preparation.

“Ben.” Candy had said over dessert. “You, Carmen and I should go shopping tomorrow morning.”

“Mom…” Kenji whined.

“Oh, right. I forgot Ben probably will want to go back…” She murmured.

“Actually.” Ben said. “Carmen was telling me about New Years and…”

He blushed, Kenji smirking and taking his hand.

“We were wondering if we could stay past New Years.” Kenji finished.

“Of course!” Kosei said with a wide smile, surprising his family and Ben from his outburst.

Candy clapped her hands.

“The we are definitely doing that shopping trip!” She said. “Sorry, Baby.”

“It’s cool.” Kenji said. “Bumpy and I will just hang out with Dad.”

Kosei nodded.

Dinner went on, and now they were going to go on their walk, Bumpy zooming around in circles in her little green vest and booties.

“Ready?” He asked Kenji.

Kenji lifted his legs and swung them down, using the momentum to stand, doing a little jump.

“Yeah.” He said and pocketed their room key.

He took Ben’s hand, who lifted Bumpy in his other hand, her leash around his wrist.

“Let’s go.” He said.

Kenji led his boyfriend to the elevator, then down to the lobby where they were greeted by a few front desk employees and the doorman.

Ben put Bumpy down, who immediately sniffed at the plant beds and started tugging Ben along.

Kenji laughed and wrapped an arm around Ben’s waist as they walked.

“It’s so bright!” Ben said with a smile, looking at the lights and neon.

“Is it what you thought it would be?” Kenji asked. “Or better?”

Ben smiled at Kenji. “Way better.”

They sat on a bench, an awning keeping snow off it as Bumpy sniffed around and they stared at the lights. Kenji took Ben’s hand.

“Ben, would your Mom…Would she have liked me?”

Ben blinked and thought. “I think she would have.”

“What was she like?”

“Never mad. Like I never saw her mad. I saw her frustrated and stressed but she never snapped at me.” He said. “She had long dirty blond hair and it wasn’t soft, but it always smelled good. When she cut it, I kind of missed watching her brush it. But she said her arms felt heavy all the time and I would do it for her. I remember she would hum or sing every time she cooked. She made a baked potato soup that would warm you from the inside out. Dave can make it close but…There was something about hers.”

Ben sniffed and smiled.

“Everything she touched seemed so much better. It was like she only knew how to be nice and positive. Like your mom actually. I bet they would have been best friends. I bet maybe your mom’s food would have made her stronger. Carmen would be another baby and she would love Bumpy and…who am I kidding, Kenji, she would love you just for being my friend, let alone boyfriend.”

Kenji hugged Ben close.

“She sounds amazing.” He said and Ben sniffed.

“I miss her so much. I never…I never really…”

“My Mom and Carmen celebrate this holiday in October. Um, it’s a couple days to remember those who moved on. We have an altar at our main house. Could I uh…even if we don’t stay together…could I add her picture? So we remember her?”

“You’d do that?�� Ben asked. “To remember a woman you never met?”

“No. I think I’ve met her.” Kenji said and cupped Ben’s cheek. “She sounds a bit like you.”

Ben chucked wetly and smiled, kissing Kenji softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you. I like you, Kenji Kon.” Ben said, getting up and holding out his hand.

Kenji smiled and took it.

“I like you too, Ben Pincus.”

He checked Bumpy and they started off again, hand in hand.

“So this café a favorite of yours?” Ben asked when he saw the shop at the edge of a plaza full of people talking and drinking coffee as a band played jazz in a covered outdoor stage in the middle.

“You know I—”

“Kenji?” A voice called and Ben felt his boyfriend freeze beside him as he looked towards their left.

A slender woman with pink hair and green eyes stood there with an older couple.

“Go on, I’ll just be a minute.” She told them and both men nodded and walked ahead towards the hotel, hand in hand.

Kenji gulped as one openly glared at him as they passed.

“Hi.” He said to her, Ben realizing who the girl was.

“Hi, Kenji.” She said, raising her chin. “Been a while.”

“How have you been, Brooklynn?”

[skinks]

had the unfortunate experience recently of my friend having sex in the same room as me while she thought i was asleep after a night out and i cant stop imagining reddie doing that or late twenties living in an apartment with other losers and having really loud sex when they thought no one else was home while bev just whisper scream/laughs the entire time and when they finally finish and come out bill just shouts “RICHIE TOZIER FUUUUCKS” extra points if this is how they find out theyre together

oh my GOD well first off big giant rip to you that you had to hear your friend fuccin

but holy shit what if reddie room with some of the others, and everyone always hangs out at their apartment. They have separate bedrooms of course, but they’re always sneaking into each other’s rooms in the middle of the night and then back out again before Mike or Bev wake up. Like a) they want to keep this thing as just Theirs while it’s still so raw and big and b) they’re worried about messing up the Loser dynamic. Not that it would, not seriously or for long, they’re just idiots

The rest of the gang come home and eat takeout and drink until they’re all near-comatose on the floor — nobody even thought to turn on the main light after the movie’s brightness faded into VHS static and eventually a blank screen, so they’re all lying whispering in the sleepy darkness when the apartment door bangs open and Richie and Eddie come stumbling through it. They all know Eddie picks Richie up from his bartending shifts across town, that’s why they’d headed to their place first after the power went out at Stan’s, they knew the TV would be free of PlayStation tournaments and the couch would be free of pushy limbs and Cheeto dust. But they didn’t know about this. The flypaper yellow light from the hallway flickers over Richie and Eddie’s unmistakable shapes and they are making out, they are making out hard.

Like, late night Skinemax makeouts.

Like, Eddie bending Richie backwards to get at his mouth and his hips simultaneously, Richie whining and pulling Eddie’s hair type makeouts.

The others lie there, not knowing what to do because like, hadn’t Richie been teasing Eddie just last week about the hot chick who came into the Blockbuster where Eddie works who’d given him that hickey? And Eddie had insisted it was just a rash? They’re all too stunned to say anything to alert the doofuses to their presence, and they’re talking anyway. Well, gasping between wet, gross-sounding kisses. They can hear Eddie’s voice low and affronted, like he doesn’t wanna wake anyone up but he still needs Richie to know how aggrieved he is.

“Do you have—any idea what your fuckin’ shoulders look like in that shirt when you play pool?”

Something clatters, they knock something over. “No,” Richie mumbles, and he sounds like he’s drunk, but he never drinks when he has shifts at the bar. Someone kicks the door shut. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“You look—Christ, Rich, you make me so fucking hard c’mon—you look like someone who got dressed in the fucking dark.”

Laughter from both of them. Happy and hot, and the other five stare at each other from their dark hidey-floor positions. “S’not what you said after Bev’s birthday,” Richie croons. “Remember?”

“Shut up, someone’s gonna hear—”

“Had to fucking gag you with this shirt.”

Bev’s shoulders shake, and she mouths my birthday??? to Ben from behind her muffling hand. Her birthday was months ago. The boys are writhing closer to Richie’s room like something dark and tangled and many-limbed at the back of an aquarium, and Eddie’s teakettle laughter bubbles through his hisses. “I’ll give you something to gag on.”

“Promise?”

A bang, the kind of bang a wall makes when a back collides with it. Richie moans, then, and Bill is wild-eyed as he goes to stand for the lightswitch, but the others all dogpile him before he gets any further.

“You betcha, hotshot. Gonna gag you so good you won’t be able to talk for a week.”

“Nah, you’d m-miss it,” Richie pants.

The bedroom door clicks shut, and they can’t hear Eddie’s murmured response but the tone, the tone is what has them all shushing each other, like people witnessing a natural wonder. Eddie doesn’t hook up or date, they all know his mother’s insidious hooks still hold Eddie back from acknowledging he’s a sexual being at all, regardless of the fact they’re all twenty-three years old. Through that thin piece of wood though, Eddie sounds downright flirtatious. Soft and sly and gritty-salted-sweet, like when you let a mouthful of cotton candy dissolve into a tough little sugarlump on your tongue, the kind that can still break teeth. The Losers gawk at each other and come to the same exact realization at the same exact time; this is serious. Richie only laughs like that when he feels like he’s got nothing to prove, no one to impress. There’s a thump. Then the creaking twang of Richie’s shitty bed frame, and the distinct, loopy peal of Richie’s happy voice, loud even through the door.

“Jesus shit, you look—Eds, you look like someone who’s gonna get fucked in the dark.” Then another thump, more laughter.

They get right down to it. Mike and Bev nudge each other and clamp down on their giggles so hard the effort makes them weep, they’ve been sharing an apartment with these horny dumbasses for two years and haven’t been any the wiser. How, they don’t know, when the noises are so loud and evocative as to make anyone blush, all arrhythmic creaking and punched out ah-ah-hah-ahs and swearing and wet suction and filthy breathless conversation and at one point, someone blowing a definite raspberry. Ben sits with a small smile on his face and his hands over his ears, more out of respectful politeness than anything like distaste, and Stan starts gathering up the bowls of popcorn and chips like nothing’s out of the ordinary. The racket pitches in intensity. Bill lies on the floor, checking his watch with increasing disbelief. They’re all too drunk to go home, they’re stuck.

Eventually the sex crests, and crests, and crests like a giant wave that turns white and frothing and powerful well before it finally slams ashore and lessens. They hear the muffled wandering whimpers of someone who sounds a lot like Eddie feeling something too good for almost too long, like the time they took him to a monster milkshake place for his first birthday since discovering he wasn’t lactose intolerant, where he guzzled til he was pink and groaning. And then it finally gets quiet. There’s some more gentle murmuring, and hearing that feels more invasive than knowing what Richie sounds like when he comes.

A few more minutes pass, and the others gather themselves up to lie in wait on the couch and the two threadbare armchairs Richie and Eddie always fight over, even though they’re exactly the same. Bev managed to dig out some leftover party-poppers and confetti from the Congrats On The NPR Guest Spot party they threw for Mike last month (they like parties, ok) and Stan very studiously hits play on the shitty little boom box when the bedroom door swings open. It’s The Bad Touch, by the Bloodhound Gang. Nothing but mammals, bay-bee.

Richie hobbles out in nothing but briefs and bruises, bow-kneed with his mouth kiss-swollen. “No, I’m pretty sure we still have some chicken pasanda in the fridge from Saturday, man,” he says over his shoulder, “I’m just gonna—oh shit.”

His limbs startle everywhere like a frightened giraffe at the cheering toots of party horns, and at Bill’s best-straight-bro cameraderie holler of “Richie Tozier fucks! You bet your fur he does, holy shit!”

“Uh,” Richie laughs, and rakes a hand through his hair, which already looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Uh, hey guys?”

Then Eddie appears from behind him, sheened in sweat and drowning in Richie’s hideous boxing-kangaroo patterned shirt. He hooks his arm up around Richie’s shoulders, and obviously orgasms do wonders for disintegrating that pesky build-up of inhibition, because he beams drunkenly at them all and says, “Actually, Eddie Kaspbrak fucks.”

[dracos-eternity]

This is a Richie tozier imagine

Contains smut

Um it might suck, yeah

Y/N P.O.V.

"F-fuck Richie." I moan out as his fingers curl inside me making my legs tremble as his other hand snakes up my side and wraps around my neck, choking me. I grab at the sheets and arch my back as the euphoric high hits me, a wave of pleasure washing over my body, my eyes rolling back, mouth slightly agape, breathing quick and short.

"Y/N, wake up." I roll over to look at my best friend, Richie Tozier, the true trashmouth. I've loved this boy longer than I can remember,  we've only ever been friends though. I don't think he loves me the same way I love him. Me and Richie have been inseparable from birth.  "Y/N?" His voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and my face turns red realizing the dream I just had right beside him.

"Yes Richie?" I reply, hoping I didn't say anything out loud.

"Are you okay? You were moaning in your sleep." He laughs at my face, embarrassment covering it.

"Fuck you Richie." I say pushing his shoulder as I laugh.

"Apparently you want to." I freeze and he smirks letting out a high pitched, whiny moan. "FuCk RiChIe." He says mocking me and I mentally facepalm. I push his shoulders causing him to fall back on my bed and laughs before sitting up and pushing me back falling between my legs, letting his hands fall to each side of my head. He stares down at me, his eyes darting from my lips to eyes. He leans down and crashes his lips against mine, I sit still, shocked, unable to move, and fucking happy. He pulls back, sitting up and looks down. "Fuck, I'm sorry Y/N. I thought you wanted it and I-" I cut him off smashing my lips back onto his, letting my arms rest on his shoulders as I run my fingers through his hair. We pull apart for air resting our foreheads against eachother.

"I love you Richie, always have." I smile.

"Me to Y/N." He pulls me close by my waist pulling me onto his lap and kisses me, trailing the down jaw and onto my neck leaving behind hickeys. I moan out and he grabs my hips pushing me down and making me grind against him causing my head to fall back and let small moans continue to fall from my mouth. We hear a knock on my door and instantly break apart before I get up fixing my hair to cover the hickeys and open the door, revealing the losers. The gang stifles chuckles and bev points to her collar bone, I look down to mine and notice the bright purple hickey. My face turns red and Richie comes up, grabbing my hand and laughing. "Y'know eddie I have your mom one last night to." He breaks the tension and we laugh.  The losers step out the house and we head to the bunker Ben made for us.

~time skip bc im to lazy to write the walk there~

"You two are cute." Bev laughs at me and Richie, our face turning bright red as I roll over hiding my face in his chest. We are currently laying in the hammock, me between his legs as he reads a comic book, resting his arms on my shoulders.

"Oh, this is cool." Eddie says in midst of his rant on how unsafe this is.

"That was like three dollars, so be careful with that please."

"I have one of these." Eddie says picking up the object, and beginning to play with it, the ball flying towards Stan's face. "Stan you see this?"

"Yeah could you maybe not." Stan says flinching each time the ball flies towards him.

"Could I maybe not what? Maybe not what Stan? Maybe not what? Maybe not be awesome and have fun and CELEBRATE THE MAGIC OF THE PADDLEBALLLLLLL." He yells as he breaks the toy, it falling out his hand. "Oh good job fucknut you broke it." He deadpans looking up at Stan.

"I broke it?"

"Yeah you broke it with your face."

I laugh at his pure crackhead idiocy before getting up and walking over to bev. We start up a conversation before hearing Eddie and Richie begin to argue about the hammock. Stans voice speaks low halfway through a conversation about where we'll be when we're older.

"Do you guys think we'll still be friends?" He questions catching our attention. "When we're older?"

"What, why wouldn't we be?" Ben responds taking the words out my mouth.

"Kay, do any of  your parents still hang out with their friends from middle school?" It makes me wonder, he has a point but our friendship is deeper than that right? After all we are fighting off a giant clown fucking together. We look around the room as he talks faintly in the background "I mean things might be different then." I try to stifle a laugh as I watch Eddie, who has layed in the opposite end of Richie in the hammock, pull off Richies glasses with his feet before smacking his face with his foot. "We all might be different."

"We'll always s-s-still be friends, I-I don't t-think that g-g-goes away just b-b-because we get older." Bill responds.

"Yeah Stan, come on." Bev joins in. "You don't have to be so sad." She continues.

"Guys I hate to break it to you and ruin the sensitive moment but we ran out of snacks." Mike interrupts.

"L-l-lets go get some." Bill stutters out. The rest agree except Richie and I offer to stay with him. The gang leaves and Richie looks at me, smirking as he gets up from the hammock and walks towards me.

~the smut shall begin😌~

He pins his hands on either side of my head, trapping me in. He leans down and kisses me, slowly, agonizingly slow. One of his hands reach to the small of my back pulling me in and I feel something press against me, causing me to moan into the kiss. He takes his opportunity and slides his tongue into my mouth, fighting mine for dominance. He pulls away, pulling my shirt off. He looks at me before grabbing my boobs and massaging them over my bra. I moan and lean my head back, giving him access to lean down and mark my neck with love bites and hickeys. I undo his jeans and push them down slightly just enough for them to fall to his ankles. I look down at the bulge and instantly feel myself get wet. He pulls my shorts and panties down in one swift move before moving me over to the table beside me, he sits me on it and I looks at me. "Y/N, your sure you're ready?" I nod my head and he likes himself up with me, I wince as he pushes in further, tears form in my eyes and begin to fall down my face as small whimpers of pain escape my mouth, he wipes my tears once he's all the way in and sits there giving me time to adjust as he grab onto his shoulders. "Please Richie." I say, he moves at a slow pace and my moans fill the bunker. He quickens soon and I feel a knot in my stomach. "Fuck, I'm close." He looks at me nodding his head and I cum tightening around him, he buries his face in the crook of my neck letting out loud groans as he cums inside me. We stay like this for a few minutes before we hear footsteps above us and scramble to get our clothes on. Everyone comes down and stares at us.

"What?" I question, everyone laughs as Bev points to her neck and looks up at Richie.

"Beep beep Richie." She says laughing at us.

[i-donot-forget]

4 Days

My Candy Love - Love Life

Eric - Candy/Sucrette - Nathaniel

Words 2373

Spoilers Ep 12 - 13

So I was thinking about the days between the kiss with Eric and our date four days later, but from his perspective.

I don't speak english very well, so this is like 90% google translate

DAY 0

I ran away like a coward after what I had done, what was I thinking? How did I let it happen? But they weren't my imaginations, she reciprocated, right? The more I tried to remember the details of that slip, my mind could only think of one thing, her and the softness of her lips, steal her breath, her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks despite my misdeed, I couldn't help but smile because the reality was more delicious than anything I had imagined. 

The loneliness of my apartment took me out of my reverie, now I had to deal with the consequences of my actions, the only question was when? surely as soon as she got home she would tell him how I took advantage of the situation, maybe Nathaniel was on his way here right now to beat me up, which I deserve anyway ...

I still felt the light touch of her perfume on me and it was driving me crazy, I went to take a cold shower with the horrible sensation of hearing a knock on the door, a product of my tormented imagination. I could not think and I had no one to talk to, I was going around the place like a caged lion, I looked at the clock again helpless when I saw that even time was making fun of me, I changed with the idea that there was only one thing that could distract me now, go for a run. I was going fast, lost in my thoughts with the uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed, stopped at a traffic light I was left blank when I saw a blond guy in a white jacket on the other side of the sidewalk, I knew it was not him and even so I could not take my eyes off him until I was 100% sure, I trotted past him receiving the smoke from his cigar fully on my face, By the time I got to the other side of the street, I needed a cigarette more than I needed oxygen. 7 years in the trash, I thought as I ripped off the plastic and opened the box, that first puff was the only thing that managed to calm me down a bit and before I knew it I was on the second.

I walked home calmer or the fact that my head was spinning absorbed some of my attention but when I closed the door the adrenaline and excitement had passed, now I was on the floor, I saw the time and resigned that tonight I could not sleep I dropped into the chair in front of the table that was overflowing with reports, I opened the laptop and gave myself to the escape who had rescued me from Melissa for the last year and there I could see an e-mail from Ben that I should have checked that afternoon if I wouldn't have been in such a rush to get to a certain cafe at 8pm.

DAY 1

By the time the sun rose I could no longer bear the thought of not knowing what to expect, so I called Nathaniel against my logic and common sense, put the phone on speakerphone, and put it on the table as I clung to the wood tightly. Each ringtone fed my paranoia. I expected the worst, screams, insults, threats, at the very least, and then he answered, I stammered incoherencies until I realized that he didn't know, she hadn't told him… yet. I told him about the information Ben had sent me feeling slightly relieved, I hung up the phone calmer but not better, this secret was a time bomb and I felt like garbage. 

I froze as I tightened the doorknob, because by inertia my feet would take me straight to the Cozy Bear, like every morning before work and every afternoon at closing time, but I couldn't go back there like nothing else, I was a criminal returning to the scene of the crime simply couldn't break into her space after what had happened, not without her authorization. I walked towards the station in the company of a cigarette and for some reason I could not remember when was the last time I had done this, I was tense, distracted, I could not concentrate even on the simplest idea my mind was restless and I simply could not ignore the why, I would have to look at his face and act like every day, I had to be convincing and it felt horrible. I hesitated before entering and after crossing the entrance I stopped for a few seconds to look inside, searching quickly, I took a deep breath out of inertia thinking I still had a few minutes left.

- I am glad I am not the only one who is affected by the investigation . -

A friendly slap on my shoulder caused me an exaggerated start but Nathaniel passed by directly to the Chief's office, I saw how he stopped at the threshold, looked at me and gestured for me to enter. I explained the progress in the investigation with few details until our superior resumed the meeting, luckily without a field operation on the agenda I could keep my distance without raising suspicions. The day was eternal and tortuous but it was already after 10 o'clock at night when I went to vent to the gym, 3 hours later I was at home, another night awake.

DAY 2

-  It is the second day you arrive smelling of cigarettes instead of coffee. I believed that with age your habits would improve, not worsen. Is the wisdom of old age a myth? -

Nathaniel joked as the sound of his fists on the punching bag filled the air, I set the dumbbell I was lifting on the ground before giving him a look.

- Yes, yes, I want to see in what condition you will be when you are my age, young man. -

- But seriously, two days without coffee? That's a record, the Cozy Bear will go broke without you. -

- Yes, well I'm changing the coffee for the gym. With the whole move in I realized that I am not in such good shape. -

- Have you already adapted to your new apartment? -

- I finally have a bedside lamp so even though I don't have a TV, or real china, I was able to finish the last book you recommended. -

- Great. Did you start something new? -

- Yes, in fact I'm already halfway there... it's something different, more suspense with some science fiction. -

- Boring… -

- Whatever you say... to tell the truth... I had discussed it with... Candy. -

- Oh yeah? -

- Yes, now that I think about it... she asked me for the reference, I saved an article from the internet with several titles of the same style. -

- Would you send it to her? will you do me a favor. -

- Sure, mmmh I don't have her number. -

- My phone is in my jacket, the pass is 4444. -

- Don't you know her number by heart? -

- Mmmm no. -

Upon unlocking the screen, the background photo was like a kick in the stomach, it was her with a beaming smile, which I did not remember ever seeing, I imagine that smile is only for him. I looked for the contact, "Honey" of course ... I sent it and put the phone quickly as if it burned in my hands.

I avoided the excused lunch with an imaginary date with a divorce lawyer, I drove through the city with no clear destination, away from those streets where by any chance of life I could come across her, I parked at a gas station when it became apparent that no matter how long I was behind the wheel I would not find the right words and finally I called her, dial tone and after a few minutes, mailbox. Come on again, she must be tending the cafe after all. Second try, back to the mailbox, this is more difficult than I thought. What if she doesn't want to answer me? No, how could she know it's me, maybe she has my number. But what nonsense are you saying? Of course she doesn't have your number, let's go once again the third time's the charm. And I was defeated, after the third attempt I did not have the courage to call again and the uncertainty began to fill my head, I drove back to the station with a thousand ideas going through my head and in all of them I am the villain.

I was collapsed on the desk in my office after the afternoon meeting when the phone rang, seeing her name on the screen made my heart race, I closed the blind on the door window and I hesitated for a moment before locking with key.

- Hello, Candy? Thanks for calling me back. I think we should talk ... -

- Eric? I don’t remember giving you my number. -

Yes ... I simply continue to deceive Nath to calm this uncertainty that is killing me, I continued to accumulate crimes and although I believed that I was prepared to face the consequences, I was surprised at myself, at what I was willing to do to find out. 

- Ahem... I asked Nath for it. I told him I wanted to share the name of the book we had talked about with you but… we both know that’s not the reason. I wanted for us to talk... about what happened between us, the other night. -

- And ... You couldn't have just stopped by? On the phone, it's a bit ... -

- I agree! But I wasn't sure that you wanted to see me. Well, anyway… -

- Okay, well, you know where to find me, right? I don't close before 8, if you haven’t forgotten… -

- Well ... I'm busy today... And tomorrow. I thought…… Maybe we can get a drink together in two days? I promise, it won't take long. -

- Uh… Okey, see you after tomorrow, then! -

When she hung up I felt that the world was turning again, that everything had stopped just with her voice, in the middle of all this a part of me was glad to hear her again. Little by little the plea that had almost stuttered became clearer,she could still hate me, disown me and want me as far as possible from her life. Maybe that was what I deserved, maybe that was for the best.

That night I slept fitfully waking up with a start until dawn, a single nightmare repeated itself in a loop, she laughing in my face for having been so stupid as to believe that there was something between us, that I was mistaken her sympathy for interest and I don't know how I could even dream of her leaving him for… for someone like me.

DAY 3

Jogging accompanied by the morning dew helped me wake up after not resting, somehow a choppy night's sleep was more harmful than a sleepless night, this lack was beginning to take its toll and it was already more than evident in my face that I was not having a good day. Today I would have a little field operation, nothing more to watch in case I saw anything suspicious, although I definitely couldn't see anything if I could barely keep my eyes open.

I hadn't been able to escape lunch today and Nath had already been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

- Everything is fine? -

Hearing that question aloud I hesitated, as if I was no longer physically capable of following this lie, I thought of confessing everything to him, not just the kiss, but this forbidden feeling that I had allowed myself to cultivate, how traitorous and scoundrel I was, but then I thought about her, and how I couldn't take away from her what belonged to her by right, if someone had to be the great antagonist it was me, the only one who would have to pay for deception and lies.

- Yes ... Although I think my attempt to give up coffee for something healthier is ironically killing me, I think I'll go back to my old habits. -

- Take care Eric, I still need you around for a while, someone has to stick up for this department. -

Who would say that words could cause physical pain felt like his words were digging into my back and blocking my throat. I could only smile. Sitting alone in an incognito vehicle my mind was blank, no, not blank really an idea had been fixed in my head as a clue that appears after rereading for the tenth time ... I could not, I simply could not do that to Nath, this had all been a huge mistake, a confusing and totally out of place situation, and it had to end as soon as possible. 

That night I couldn't sleep either, I spent the hours thinking about her, saying goodbye in some way to the moments that I had collected in my memory, I had kept this absurd fantasy for too long and I couldn't continue lying to myself.

DAY 4

This morning I was calm, despite being the day of our meeting, but perhaps it was not tranquility but resignation, today the suspense ended, this story that should never have existed ended.

The hours passed quickly because I had already made a decision, if I wanted to end this forever there should be no doubt, I had to tell her absolutely everything, so when she rejects me and denies each and every one of my hopes, I could turn off that light that still wants to see her, that not even the fact that she is with someone else has been able to extinguish, it must be her and it must be brutal.

I was surprised at how quickly the orange glow of the evening began to creep in through my office window, it seemed that after all I did not really want to go to my “date”. My discouragement was turning into nervousness with each step I took, by the time I realized I was outside the cafe.

And then I saw you through the window and I smiled without being able to contain myself because only when I saw you did I realize that I missed you and that I had not liked spending so many days without seeing you and that everything even seemed a little brighter... 

Oh… Shit, I'm really screwed...

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: Presumed Character Death, Violence Descriptions (In This Chapter) Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton,  Pretty Much Everyone (at points) Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

It was a simple affair that lacked the formality and solemnity that such a wedding might have had should it have been performed back home in London. Country weddings, especially elopements weren’t exactly known for their stark adherence to the religious doctrines.  The fact of the matter was that the men who performed such rites were hardly true clergy.

Penelope could hardly believe that this had become her life and that she was indeed marrying Colin. After everything they’d been through,  he had deemed her worthy to be his bride and the sentiment wasn’t lost on her.  She couldn’t but look back seeking the safety and approval of Anthony and Benedict as she uttered her vows though.

Hearing Colin say the words and knowing that he meant them had been everything that she’d ever wanted before he’d gone missing and when he’d come back she’d been so caught up that she’d failed to really take notice of the fact she wasn’t quite the same infatuated girl she’d been before. She had changed as a person.  She could hardly ignore the loudness of her thoughts against the quiet of his words and her own.

She certainly didn’t intend to regret this though, even if the whole thing felt a bit like an out of body experience.  She wasn’t unhappy but she had imagined that she would feel more joy flittering through her veins, excitement at spending the rest of her life with the man she’d deemed as her soul mate.  She felt something deep inside that she couldn’t quite explain though and she wasn’t quite willing to investigate.

To be perfectly honest she was terrified of what she might find if she did explore it.  She loved Colin. She always had.  God knew that she always would but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she hadn’t made the right choice. Maybe they should have taken it slower, maybe they both needed more time to grow before they had their happy ever after if it was meant for them.  It didn’t make sense to her when it felt so right though. She’d been so sure moment ago.

The smile she’d plastered on her face through the aftermath of the ceremony felt like a cover for the sheer and utter panic she was trying to keep down.   There was something she felt deep down inside that she couldn’t quite explain, some feeling like something had to go wrong. She’d felt like that most of her life whenever something was going right. It didn’t normally take hold of her quite so strongly. She could feel it wrapping around her life a vice.

They were all to walk together to the local inn to eat and celebrate the occasion.  Her arm was held steadfast by Colin and she was trying desperately not to have him catch on to the fact she was a bit shaky.

“It’s not like you to be so quiet,” Colin finally told her after a moment. His eyes gazed over her appraisingly from the side, his grip on her all the tighter.  His normal smile was still there, never ceasing but there was concern etched in the depths of his eyes.

“I was just thinking,” Penelope told him though she didn’t choose to expand upon it.  She nodded sympathetically, patting a hand on his arm to provide some sort of reassurance that she was okay but she wasn’t sure if it was believable or not.  “Perhaps, I’m just a bit hungry.”

“Well… we’re going to fix that,”  he insisted.  Whatever skepticism he had over her words didn’t seem to last as he went back to smiling, holding conversation with Anthony as they walked.  The words sort of managed to blur together until they’d found their way to their destination.

--

There had been food and dancing.  It was definitely not the kind of thing that would have gone over as a social event in London but it was comfortable and homey. Penelope did feel full and the dancing did happen to calm her nerves and as the sky began to transition from day to twilight, she felt sure that maybe she’d simply let her mind get the best of her.

When Colin excused himself to go ensure that they had a proper to sleep on their wedding night, she’d let herself be left amongst the mix of stranger and Bridgertons.  Anthony had certainly had allowed himself to partake of the libations to the point where he was a bit sloppy.  She couldn’t help but feel a bit like she was intruding on a bachelor’s night with the way he was carrying on with a random woman.

Benedict for his part was keeping a respectful distance though every so often she would feel his eye on her and know he was more concerned with her safety than finding someone to spend the evening with.  She was grateful for it honestly.

“You can actually converse with me, you know?” she told him, decisively moving so that she could sit across from him at a table.  “You don’t have to go back to ignoring me.”

The fact he couldn’t quite meet her eye told her that it might have actually been his plan.  He forced his gaze up after a minute though.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he lied.

She knew he was lying and she fully intended to call him out on it. She would have if she didn’t hear a crack of the door that pulled both of their focuses away.

A tall, broad shouldered man came barreling into the room.  There was something about the presence of him that commanded everyone’s attention.

“Clara?” he bellowed.

The woman that Anthony had been carrying on with pulled away from Anthony and seemed to practically disappear into the wood of the floors. She paled and it became quite clear who Clara was.

The man’s next actions were to move toward her and raise his fist to strike.  Anthony, for his part, attempted to stop it. His drinking had made him unsteady and he took the punch himself.  Like any man of honor, he decided it appropriate to strike back.

Goosebumps formed on Penelope’s skin as she watched in absolute horror at what was taking place, the world slipping away. Before she could try and stop Benedict, he was up moving to try and get the giant away from his brother.

Anthony was most definitely losing. It wasn’t an even or fair fight by any stretch and he was going to be bloodied and bruised come the next day.  Benedict simply wanted to stop it from being worse than all of that.

What she didn’t realize was the man was reaching for a knife and neither did Benedict until he was in the process of trying to get in the middle of them.  The whole thing happened so abruptly that there was little she could do to stop the blood curling screams that escaped her as Benedict’s eyes widened and he crumpled to the floor.

The man clearly realized his mistake as soon as it happened, taking off running just as he’d came leaving a bloody mess in his wake.  The woman who’d caused it all taking one look at everything before following after.

Penelope didn’t think, didn’t breath as she moved to try and see the extent of the damage.  Anthony was trying his best to get up and be helpful but he was in no condition to go get a doctor when he needed one himself.

His voice broke as she demanded someone go find a doctor before crumpling to her own knees, accessing the wound.  She ripped the fabric from her dress, trying to use it to compress the bleeding at his abdomen as if it might be enough to hold him until a physician could arrive.

“Hold on,” she demanded.

Benedict was still awake. His eyes were open and he was breathing.  Those were all things to be hopeful for. He opened his mouth to speak a few times but the words seemed to be a struggle for him, the fact he wasn’t speaking only alarmed her all the more.

His hand moved to rest on top of her own, becoming increasingly caked in his blood.  He didn’t have to utter the words for her to know what he was trying to say.  She knew that he wasn’t going to make it but it wasn’t something that she could stand for. She wasn’t sure if she could live with herself if that was the outcome of this.

“Please don’t,” she begged.

Word had apparently gotten back to Colin about there being a problem. She didn’t hear his footsteps but she did know when she heard his horrified voice and saw him there kneeling beside her.

There was so much blood, it wasn’t completely clear who was hurt now.

“Are you hurt?” Colin asked her.

“No, Ben – he was trying to protect Anthony,” she couldn’t even finish the words.  Colin tried to take over her task of holding the wound, trying to order her away with his hands.

“I have this,” he tried to tell her.

She didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving him,” she uttered. She was near hysterical anyways. She couldn’t unseen what she’d seen.  She’d never be able to get the imagery out of her head.

“Pen, you shouldn’t have to -  I’ll stay with him,”  Colin insisted, trying to keep a calm exterior but he was far from it.  The little cracks in the normally calm exterior were on full-display.

“No,” Benedict uttered, giving Colin a look that made him relent and completely give up on any ideas he might have had about sending Penelope away from the carnage.  The damage was already done.

--

By the time they’d actually managed to get a physician there,  Benedict was already beginning to fade.  He was going in and out of consciousness. Every time that he went there, it began to feel as though he might not come back.

Anthony had begun to sober up thanks to water and the horror around him.  If it was possible, he looked worse than Benedict. The guilt was clear on his face. He blamed himself for the whole damn thing.

“Not your fault,” Benedict had told him a few moments of alertness. “I’ve always had your back in a fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Anthony told him solidly as the physician attempted to examine the wound. The grim look on his face made it clear that Benedict wasn’t going to be okay.

“The wound penetrated the spleen,” the physician informed them,  cleaning the wound with liquor which caused Benedict to writhe in pain.  He was paler than usually the shirt that he’d been wearing long discarded to be used to help try and stop the bleeding.

Penelope had read enough books that she knew that the odds weren’t in favor of anything being able to be done here except provide comfort, drown out the suffering until the brutal end.   There was a choice to be made here. They could either selfishly keep him alert or allow the physician to allow him to sleep until the end.

One look at his face and she knew the path he wanted.

“We need to get him to a bed,” she uttered. Colin and Anthony could get it done, especially with a little assistance.  Benedict deserved a little dignity and not the floor of this place.

There was no argument from the two of them either, especially as they moved to help with Anthony taking the feet and Colin taking the torso. There was a room with a bed not far off from there so they made their way, physician in tow.

When they managed to get him there, she moved to help remove his boots and socks. She was trembling but there was a mission to be had here.  She’d spent most of the last year grieving in one way or another and she would spend more of it doing the same but for now she needed to keep it together.

“Help him with the rest of his clothes,” she ordered to her new husband, turning away to provide him a little modesty.

Colin did precisely as instructed, Anthony fetching extra blankets to keep their brother warm.   They were far too shell-shocked to offer much argument over what they should be doing.

When she turned around, the physician was mixing some ingredients in a mortar and then pouring it into a drink.

Benedict’s eyes were closed but the shift in the sound of her dress, made him open them again. He nodded through the pain, offering her a silent thank you for taking control of this.

“I want you all to leave me,” he said resolutely after a long moment.  It was the strongest his voice had been since this whole nightmare had began.  “He will let you know when it’s over.”

“I will not,” Penelope said firmly.

“We will not,” Colin chimed in.

“You will. You can’t deny a man’s last request,” he said trying to offer a weak smile.  The wince made it clear it was a struggle for him.  “Take her away from this.”

Colin and Anthony exchanged looks.  As men, they had no choice but to honor the request.

Penelope wasn’t going to go as easily.

“Your last request is denied,” she told him firmly.

“I’m going to miss that fire,” he murmured after the doctor gave him the concoction.  It was already starting to make him feel drowsy. Whatever words he had left would be slurred. His gaze moved between his brothers and then Penelope again. “I’ve loved you all.  Take care of each other and… the others. Go.”

Bridgeton men were not above overly sentimental moments but Anthony touched a hand to his shoulder and nodded as if to silently say he loved him too.  He then turned heel and left, following direction.

Colin followed suit, attempting to grab Penelope by hand at first but when she refused, he picked her up and outright carried her while she kicked and screamed to be allowed back down.  He didn’t put her down until they were all outside to where they could get fresh air.

While the men handled this with stoicism, she absolutely fell apart.  She crumbled into Colin’s arms, crying and screaming until her voice was gone.  She had known something bad was going to happen and now it had.