#look at that terrible lighting where i ate my lunch

[brenna]

the vibe for may 23rd is noticing the roses have started to bloom. i left the windowless office with fluorescent lighting to go out into the sunshine and flowers.

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-nine

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: it wouldn't be a story of mine if there weren't some kinds of angst.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98

I sat in the darkness of my hotel room, the only light being cast from the television as I watched the random movie. Even though it was nearing one in the afternoon, I had pulled the curtain closed so I didn't have to bother to look outside. It was a long drive to San Francisco, and I was exhausted. The guys had an interview with a local radio station here before we headed back home to Los Angeles for their two-night show. They said I could head back home with the crew on their bus but to be honest; I enjoyed riding with them because the aura and vibe was comforting. Not saying the crews bus was terrible, but it was constant noise so that's why I stayed on Bad Omen's bus which is why I was in San Francisco with them.

Plus, seeing Noah more than usual was a deciding factor.

Noah texted me a while ago asking if I wanted to grab some lunch before their interview, but I declined, needing some time alone. I woke up this morning in one of those moods where you're sad for no reason and everything irritates you. It didn't help that I read some comments online about me that weren't so nice. Someone took a picture last night of Noah hooking his fingers in my jeans and pulling me back into him. That and the speech he made about me last night, rumors online were circulating, and I didn't like any of them.

I knew I shouldn't let those words bother me but it did, the worst of it saying how I was a roadie and most likely slept with someone in the band to work with them.

Technically, Noah and I fooled around twice but both times he got me off. I've barely touched him in that way which should say something, right? He was willing to pleasure me getting nothing in return.

A knock sounded on the hotel room door made me let out a loud sigh and I dragged my feet to the door, opening it to find Folio standing on the other side of it. He lifted a bag of takeout with a smile.

"Hungry?"

At the smell and mention of food, my stomach growled, so I moved to the side letting him in.

"Shouldn't you be leaving for the interview soon?" I asked while shutting off the television.

"It's at seven so I thought I'd bring you something to eat. No one's seen you all morning." Folio said while setting the food out on the coffee table in the room.

I shrugged while sitting on the couch. "I've been here, not in the mood to talk."

Folio sat next to me as we ate the burgers and fries he brought.

"Everything alright?"

"I guess," I sighed with hesitation. "I read some things online about me."

"Why'd you do that?" He wondered.

"I don't know. I posted some pictures from last night's show on the band's Instagram, but all people could talk about was me and Noah. And it wasn't nice things."

Folio set down his takeout box and cleaned his hands on a napkin while I could only eat half of the burger before closing the box.

"You can't let what people online say about you bother you so much, Y/N. You know the truth about you and Noah; not them." Folio gave my knee a reassuring squeeze.

I then pulled my legs into my chest and wrapped my arm around them. "I don't even know what the truth is. We're not together and it was my choice. I want to take things so because I've got so much going on at home that the last thing I need is to focus on a relationship."

A shaky breath left my trembling lips before I continued. "Noah said he'd wait for me until I was ready for one but what if he gets bored and moves on to someone who's willing to give him what he wants?"

Folio propped his chin on his hand as he rested it against the back of the couch.

"Noah isn't like that. I've known him a long time, and he's always been loyal. He's agreeing to take things slow with you, right?"

When I reluctantly nodded, Folio continued. "So you have to trust him. Noah likes you, he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you don't go anywhere. And if you're worried he's going to read what people said about you, don't. He's stopped posting for this reason."

Talking with Folio eased some of my worry but it did little to stop the nagging voice in my head that Noah would hurt me.

"I'm afraid I'm going to fall so hard for him I'm going to get burned if it doesn't work out," I admitted with a hushed tone.

"Falling for someone is scary but you can't let those fears stop you from finding happiness, Y/N. I know Noah was an asshole to you in the beginning for his own dumb reasons but he's willing to prove to you how much he cares about you," Folio rested his hand on my shoulder.

I patted it with a small smile and wanted to change the subject, ready to talk about anything else when my phone rang form its spot on the end table by the bed. Hopping over the couch, I answered it in time to see Lana calling.

"Give me a minute?" I asked Folio.

When he nodded, I walked out onto the balcony, the warm afternoon air brushing across my skin.

"Hello?"

"Hi dear, how're things?" Lana's cheery voice made me smile.

I spent the next few minutes catching up with her, every once in a while catching Folio's curious gaze through the sliding glass door. It was no secret that I took these phone calls daily now asking about my mom but no one really asked why. Noah tried, but I shut that down immediately.

Suddenly, a loud commotion sounded from her end of yelling and I stood straighter while clutching the phone to my ear.

"Lana, what's going on?"

Some rustling before her voice came through. "It's the Mikalson's from next door. They said they caught your mother in their living room, with their young daughter in her lap."

Mother fucker, this was bad.

The Mikalson's moved in about six months ago and kept to themselves so I didn't bother telling them about my mother's disease. But now that they found her with their daughter I wasn't sure what they were going to do.

"Did you try to explain?" I asked through a rushed breath.

"Yes, but they didn't bother to understand. They're threatening to call the cops."

"Fuck," I spat and began pacing the balcony. "Can I talk to them? Maybe if they hear it from me, they might change their minds."

The only thing I heard for the next few minutes was Lana's voice sounding far away so I assumed she dropped the phone so she could talk to the Mikalson's. I still was pacing with the phone clutched tightly to my ear with one hand and the other on my racing heart. Folio stepped out on the balcony, concern etched in his features.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Just then Lana's voice returned to the phone. "It's alright, I've talked them down. But they're not happy. They said if it happens again, they won't bother waiting before calling the cops."

Cursing, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sudden weight of everything crash down on my chest and the dam burst open with a flood of tears. They ran down my face before I could even hide them from Folio, who immediately brought me into his arms, hands rubbing slow, soothing circles on my back.

"Thank you, Lana," I sobbed into the phone. "I'll be home tomorrow morning and you can take the two days off."

She didn't bother to argue, both of us knowing it was the truth. Without saying another word, I hung up the phone and let it fall to the ground as my arms wrapped around Folios back. We stayed like that for a while; me crying into his shirt and him soft embrace easing away the pain for that time being.

"What's going on?" he finally asked.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him and wiped away the rest of the stray tears. I could say nothing, lie, or tell him the truth. Folio was becoming a good friend of mine and I knew I could trust he wouldn't say anything to Noah or the rest of the guys.

"It's my mom," I choked out. "She's sick, and it's been so stressful dealing with it while I'm here. There's been a caregiver with her but-."

I trailed off, not wanting to go further into any detail about my mom. This was good enough for Folio because his thumb wiped away another tear that fell and nodded as if he could read my mind of why I didn't want to say anything else.

"I won't tell anyone," Folio promised.

"Thank you," I sniffled. "This is why I'm so apprehensive to start a relationship with Noah because how can I focus on him when my life back home is a fucking mess."

"He'd understand, Y/N."

I shook my head. "No, he can't know. Please?"

Another secret of mine for Folio to keep from Noah.

Eventually he nodded while stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. The sound of a door opening behind us gave us pause as we looked over to the balcony from the room next door. Nick eyed the two of us with furrowed brows.

"Noah's been trying to call you," he nodded towards Folio.

"Oh shit. I left my phone in Y/N's room." Folio informed.

Nick's eyes bounced between us. "I was going to give Noah a tattoo, and he wanted to know if you two wanted to come watch."

I still said nothing, simply kept my gaze and my feet so Folio nudge my arm. "Come on, it'll be good for you not to be alone right now."

There was a part of me that wanted to argue but ultimately knew he was right so all I did was nod.

"Let me change real quick and I'll be over," I said to Nick.

He nodded before giving Folio one last glance and retreated into the room next door. I went to walk past Folio but his gentle touch on my elbow gave me pause.

"If you want to talk more, you know I'm here for you right?"

I gave him a genuine smile. "Of course, Folio. Thank you."

NOAH

"Did you find Folio?" Jolly asked Nick as he came back inside.

"Yeah, he was in Y/N's room," he threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the room next door.

I stiffened in my spot on the couch as jealousy ran through me. Why were the two of them hanging out alone? After she declined to go to lunch with me earlier? I tried not to let it bother me, knowing that she and Folio were friends. They cared about each other but not the way she and I cared about each other. I had no reason to be jealous because we weren't technically together but it still irritated me that she chose to hang with him instead of me today.

With my hood pulled over my head, I sunk deeper into the couch and brought out my phone to send a text to Y/N.

Are you coming over?

Her response was almost immdiate and it made my heart do that stupid little flutter it did everytime she was around.

Yea, just changing.

My fingers typed a fast response.

If the guys weren't here, I'd say come over wearing nothing.

It took a few minutes before she responded.

Cheeky, aren't we?

For you, angel? Always.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Jolly let Folio in first slowly followed by Y/N, who's eyes were red and puffy; almost as if she was crying. Our gazes locked and instantly I sat up, patting the spot next to me on the couch.

She hesitantly made her way over to me and when she was within reach, I wrapped an arm around her to pull me into her chest.

"What's wrong?"

I felt her stiffen in my embrace as her hands loosely wrapped around me.

"I'm fine, just a long morning that's all."

Her voice sounded sad, almost broken, as she slowly pulled away but remained sitting next to me. I didn't buy that for shit but didn't bother prying more into what was bothering her. Instead, I looked towards Folio who motioned for me to come over. He was leaning against the door to Nick's room and when I crossed the way to him; he let out a deep sigh.

"Look before you assume some shit went down with Y/N and I, nothing happened. I brought her lunch, and she got a phone call," he said.

"A phone call?" I asked.

Folio ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting over to Y/N, who didn't bother glancing our way. She kept her hands folded in her lap while she roughly chewed on her bottom lip as if she was trying her damnest not to break down.

"It's not my business to tell exactly what but she's dealing with some things with her mom."

I then remebered the phone call outside the coffee shop with her mom and stuffed my hands deep into the pocket of my sweater.

"Noah," Folio's voice turned serious. "You need to make sure she knows that you're serous about her. She's questioning a lot right now so reassure her that your feelings are genuine."

"They are," I defended with a clenched jaw.

"I know that. But she doesn't," he motioned to Y/N.

Leaving him, I stalked back to the couch and sat in my previous spot. Y/N didn't bother to look away from her clasped hands so I lifted her chin so she had to look at me.

"So, what design is Nick going to tattoo?" I asked, hoping this would lighten her darkened mood.

Nick was setting up his tattoo gun while Jolly and Folio sat on the edge of the bed, talking quietly to themselves.

Y/N shrugged, no ounce of light behind her eyes or emotion on his voice. "I don't care, Noah. You don't have to do this. It was a stupid bet."

"Angel," I began, but she cut me off with a hard stare.

"I don't care," she repeated. "Get Bart Simpson with face tattoo's or a black cat, it's going to be on your body for the rest of your life. I can't be the one that makes you get a tattoo you'll regret."

I blinked taking aback by her outburst. She wasn't yelling but her voice was thick with anger. Realizing she snapped, Y/N let out a shaky breath then leaned her head against my shoulder, our fingers linking.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

My lips left gentle kisses on her hairline and squeezed her hand. "It's alright."

Once Nick was set up, I quietly told him what to tattoo so Y/N wouldn't hear then sat back with her while he tattooed the small design on my right thumb.

Having her this close to me with her scent engulfing my senses, my heart thundered hard against the confines of my chest. From the first day she came to work with us, Y/N had this effect on me. I couldn't get her out of my head and my heart. She was like a drug and once I got a taste for her; I needed more. My cock throbbed in my sweats when I remembered the pictures she posted on her Only Fan's last night. While the one in the bus's bunk was sexy, my favorite was the one of her in the bathroom while wearing our shirt, for obvious reasons.

Anger gripped tight at my stomach when I realized others are seeing those pictures, knowing what she looks like underneath her clothes. But it wasn't like I could tell her to stop posting; we weren't dating yet.

"Hey," I said softly while shaking her arm. "How about we get some food after the radio interview, just the two of us?"

She lifted her head from my shoulder to look at me. "Like a date?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

With the way her eyes twinkled, I knew she liked the idea until they cast down to the now finished tattoo on my thumb. She sucked in a breath as her body tensed, eyes now wide with some emotion I couldn't pinpoint.

"Why'd you get that?"

The tone of her voice was high pitched, mortified as she pushed away from me.

"You won the bet, so I thought it made sense," I shrugged, not realizing she would get this upset over the tattoo.

Y/N stood to her feet with a start and ran a hand through her hair, making her way to the door.

"This is moving to fast. I need to be alone."

The door to the room slammed shut, and it left all four of us staring at it confused, with me gazing down to my thumb at the dark lines of my new tattoo; small, black angel wings.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

modern au chatfic

thinking about modern au where alhaitham casually refers to kaveh as "loml" in the groupchat

& tighnari messages kaveh "pls tell me you guys got together finally"

kaveh: wdym no he thinks it means "light of my life" lol

tighnari: do you understand why that's not better. do you

kaveh: he's just making fun of me and my nickname!!

tighnari: [switches to alhaitham's dms] that's rough buddy.gif

alhaitham: [Your message could not be delivered. This is usually because the recipient is only receiving direct messages from friends]

tighnari: [switches back to kaveh's dms] alhaitham blocked me

kaveh: WHAT how could he do that to my bestie>:( what did you say

tighnari: oh just laughed at him about the loml thing

kaveh: IKR icb he calls me loml & not know what it means

tighnari: mm hm tell him to unblock me

alhaitham: [This user has accepted your friend request! You can send each other messages now]

tighnari: that was fast wow

tighnari: kaveh doesnt know how much u listen to him huh

alhaitham: Is this important?

tighnari: nah just bored

tighnari: anyways try sending him the wikipedia pg for "loml"

alhaitham: I clarified my intended definition already. He thinks I'm pretending to have known all along out of embarrassment

tighnari: and how does that make you feel

alhaitham: It's fine. He'll accept my feelings when he's ready

tighnari: [switches to kaveh's dms] KAVEH

kaveh: what?!!?

tighnari: i wish i didn't believe so strongly in not sharing private messages

kaveh: is this about alhaitham? did he unblock you

tighnari: i love how i gave you no context and you still guessed it was about alhaitham

kaveh: i wasnt wrong though!

kaveh: what did he do

tighnari: i just said i wouldn't say anything

kaveh: why would you tease me like this... 🥺 do i need to talk to alhaitham to find out

tighnari: yup

kaveh: why does everyone keep telling me to talk to him i literally talk to him all the time

tighnari: i think you should look at the common denominator here

kaveh: yeah ik alhaitham's terrible at communicating directly

tighnari: no comment

kaveh: pls agree 🥺 you know im right

tighnari: no <3

kaveh: >:(

kaveh: but it is weird he didnt bother to look up a word before using it

tighnari: im gonna log off, getting late, good luck figuring it out

kaveh: ok gn

[46 minutes later]

kaveh: tighnari do you think he meant it

kaveh: ykw im not gonna overthink this

[the next morning]

tighnari: kaveh why did you leave a heart react on alhaitham's message in the groupchat

kaveh: im embracing it! i'm the light! nbd!

tighnari: hm very convincing

kaveh: if i pretend it doesnt bother me then it wont

tighnari: does it really bother you tho

kaveh: yes!! ofc it does! not when he doesnt really mean it

tighnari: maybe you should talk to him about your feelings

kaveh: ur supposed to be supportive not attack me >:(

tighnari: if you want an enabler go back to school

kaveh: i CANT that's where he works!

tighnari: didnt you bring him lunch last week

kaveh: yeah he gets grumpy if he skips a meal

tighnari: no comment

kaveh: WE ATE LUNCH AS FRIENDS. JUST LIKE HOW YOU & I GET LUNCH TOGETHER SOMETIMES. AS FRIENDS

tighnari: i dont call you loml tho

kaveh: u are def not the loml rn

[myzzjolanda]

Eat. Please?

I might have done something again. Took me a while to write this out because I wasn’t really sure hów I wanted to write it out, but I’m pleased with the result. Enjoy again! 

Show: Wednesday

Pairing: Larissa Weems x reader

Warning: none, I think

Wordcount: 1923 

__

Larissa Weems was a really busy woman, but she usually made sure she could spend time with you for lunch and in the evenings. Even if she had tons of work to do, she would find a way to have at least a quick lunch and half an hour together with you before bed so you could talk (or vent) about your day.

But this is the last week of the schoolyear. The week you both had been dreading for a while already. Both of you had tried to prepare for this week, but when it had started, the workload was still wáy more than any of you had anticipated on. There were so much papers and tests to be graded, students who needed help with resits or trying to fix subjects so that they could continue their studies in their next year, even more parents who demanded some of your time you didn’t had to talk about their children grades. Larissa, of course, had to put even more time in those things than you do. She had to oversee the processes and had to deal with most of the parents who wanted to complain about the grades of the students. This meant you barely saw her this week. You saw her just before going to sleep when she crawled into the bed and pulled you closer to her, and in the mornings when she woke up early, and placed a kiss on your forehead just before she got out of bed.

And you saw her in the hallways during the days of course, when you gave each other small smiles and had really short smalltalks. To everyone else, she looked as calm and relaxed as ever, as if everything was under control. But when you looked at her, you could see she felt tense and perhaps even a bit stressed. You even wondered if she even ate enough. You knew she always struggled with eating breakfast, even when she wasn’t stressed. And earlier this week, when you needed something from her, you stepped in her empty office, and more than half of her sandwich was still on her desk. ‘At least she finished her tea’, you could only think to yourself. When on Thursday you heard her assistant say the day was a four out of four of which she didn’t finish her lunch, you had enough of it. You decided that you’d work extra hard to cook her a simple and light, but her favourite meal. And then you’d bring it to her. And you would sit with her until she had finished her plate. You’d shove the food down her throat if necessary.

 Luckily, you just had one class with a test today and that class was in the morning. This afternoon, you had 2 meetings with students who wanted help with your subjects in the next semester. You gave them a bit of reading to do for in the summer, and afterwards you could finally grade the tests. Luckily again the test was 75 percent multiple choice and the other 25% open questions. You’d have a hard time finishing on time if you put more open questions in the test, but it was 3:30pm when you where done. You entered the grades in the schoolsystems and in an excelsheet, and then made your way to the shops. Luckily, you’ve made this dish quite often for Larissa so you knew where to find everything quite quickly. Larissa loved fish and especially a salmon salad you made for her on one of the first dates you had. In the beginning, you thought she was joking, or that she would just say it was her favourite just to please you, but she just kept asking for this salad when you asked her what she wanted to eat. One time, when she was really terrible sick with a bad flu, she was half asleep in her bed. You didn’t think she would feel like eating a lot, but then out of a sudden, with a sad voice, she had stated: “My salad. Yóur salad. I want your salad.”. When you looked at her with confusion in your eyes, she sleepily continued: “The salmon salad. I want your salmon salad. Please?”. And surprisingly, she finished the whole familybowl in one setting. 

When you got home, it was already 5pm. It was a blessing you didn’t have to cook or boil anything, since it was quite a hot day. You just had to wash the veggies and cut them, put them together with the salmon and the dressing and then you’d be finished. Before you started cooking, you decided to take a shower and put on some more comfortable clothes. After the shower, you put your still wet hair in a messy bun and started to put together the salad. You also cut the baguette you bought in pieces, put them in a bowl and put some garlic butter in a smaller bowl. Eventually, you put the salad, the baguette, the garlic butter, two plates and the cutlery on a big tray. You were happy Larissa’s office wasn’t far away. You were doubting if you’d go to her immediately or that you’d wait a bit longer, since you didn’t want to disturb her. But then you reminded yourself of the fact that she doesn’t plan meetings or calls after 5PM, so you wouldn’t disturb her with such things. And she needed to eat anyway, especially since she didn’t finish her lunch.

When you got to Larissa’s office, you noticed her door was open a tiny bit. You didn’t hear any voices, just her working on her computer. Since your hands were full with the tray, you pushed the door open with your shoulder. “Oof, I’m glad you left that door open a bit, love, thanks for that.”, you stated. Larissa’s head twitched up from her computer at you when you spoke. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”, she asked you, with a tone of surprise in her voice. “Making sure you eat.”, you answered. You put the tray down on an empty corner of her desk. “And I missed you, so I decided to make a big bowl of your favourite salad to eat together”. You saw a twitch of panic in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/n, but I don’t have much time. I still need to answer a ton of emails, I have four tests to enter into the system, I-“ “Make time. Please. I’ve heard you didn’t finish your lunch for the fourth time in a row already. I don’t even want to know what you’ve had for dinner the last few days.”. A look of guilt appeared in Larissa’s eyes. “but…” “Please?”, you continued. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten much dinner these days, have you?” “Wasn’t hungry.”, Larissa mumbled back. You sighted. “Please eat? I’ve made your favourite salad, and brought a baguette with garlicbutter as well. We can eat together if you like and I’ll help you entering those grades if we’re done.”.  With this, you earned a little smile from Larissa. “Alright then. If you insist. And I of course can’t resist that salmon salad of yours.”. 

For a few minutes, you both sat there, eating in silence. “So how was your week up until now?”, you asked Larissa. She stayed silent for a few moments and then something in her face changed. “Oh no, sweety!”, you said to her while you run to her to hold and hug her close. Her face changed to show pure panic and stress. A tear fell down on her check. “I’m sorry”, she said with a soft voice, “I’m used to last weeks of semesters and even to last weeks of schoolyears, but this one seemed to be the worst of them all and I don’t even know why. I’m not even doing anything differently, but I started to feel overwhelmed and then there was miss Adams as well and…”. You shushed her. “It’s okay. Why didn’t you tell me? It’s okay to be a little overwhelmed at times. It’s also okay to ask for help. What is nót okay is that you forget to eat. Please, ask for help the next time you start to feel overwhelmed and I try my best to help you. We can sort everything out together, remember?”, you whispered in hear ear, remembering her of the promise she made you when the two of you where just together. She nodded, and cried for a few more moments with her head on your chest. When her sobs started to be more soft, you made eye contact with her again while wiping away her tears. “Are you feeling better again?”, you asked her. She nodded slowly. You smiled at her. “Good. Now, empty your plate, as the good girl that you are.”, you told her with a grin. She smiled at you and started to eat again. After a few more bites, Larissa put down her fork again. “Y/n?” “Yes, love?”. Her mouth opened. And then closed. And opened again. She took a deep breath and then said: “Marry me.”. Your face jolted up. “I’m sorry?”, you said, your mouth still full with a bite of the bread. She looked a bit taken back with your answer, but at least she didn’t panic. “Marry me y/n y/l/n. Please. I know this is a weird question asked at a weird moment and I also know I should’ve bought you a ring but you’re fantastic and I love you and I just realised how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and-“ “Yes.”, you answered blankly. You felt your throat get thicker. You tried not to cry. “…What?”, Larissa said softly, with a somewhat worried, but also somewhat surprised look on her face. “Yes. I’d love to marry you, Larissa Weems.”,  you answered. Tears started to fill up your eyes while you let out a giggle. Larissa stood up, still with a look of surprise on her face, and walked over to you. She took your hand and pulled you up so that she could make eye contact and she could hold your closer. She cupped your face with one hand while she placed her other hand on your waist. “Really? Do you really want to marry me?” “I’d love to marry you. Wouldn’t want to trade you with anyone in the universe.”, you answered softly. Larissa started to laugh uncontrollably while her eyes filled up with tears of joy. She kissed you passionately. “I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”, she told you when she hugged you. You started to cry too. “I was so worried you’d say no.”, Larissa whispered softly in your ear. That surprised you. “Really? Why would I want to say no?” “Don’t know. But it bothered me ever since I decided I wanted to marry you earlier this week.”, she answered. You looked at her with a surprised look. You giggled. “You liar. You told me the school was what stressed you out this week.”. Larissa giggled back. “It was. But this week I had something extra on my mind as well.”. Laughing, the two of you kissed again. When you let go of each other again, Larissa looked at the table with the salad on it again. “How much salad do you have left? I’m starving.”. You laughed. “A lot, I wanted you to eat properly again.”. “Good, let’s finish this bowl of salad. I need it.”. 

[iwriteasfotini]

Hogwarts Rosekiller IV of VI

NSFW

Part IV of VI - Rating Explicit (537 words) Barty's POV

Part I, Part II, Part III

Warnings: lots of f*bombs and underage

...

It had been about midway through his fourth year when they became official, though only to each other and Regulus. The little cunt. Sometimes when Barty got extremely drunk he thought about Regulus, mostly sex with Regulus. And he could not, for the life of him, make up his mind on who would top and who would bottom. What was most intriguing about sex with Regulus wasn’t that Regulus was fucking fit, which he was, it was the prospect of cracking his facade of stoicism. Because someone who was that closed off would undoubtedly have immense amounts of pent up energy to unleash. A prude in the streets, but total kink between the sheets. This was how Barty fantasized Regulus at any rate. 

Barty ate lunch with Evan and several other Slytherins boys. Everyone was nursing hangovers or were slowly losing their buzz as the day wore on. Regulus joined them towards the end of the meal and scarfed down food.

“Where have you been?” Barty asked quietly. 

“Potions lab.”

“All last night?”

“I was at the party off and on.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“You were otherwise occupied.”

Barty narrowed his eyes. This was the infuriating thing, Regulus always, always said exactly the right thing. Barty knew he was lying through his teeth, but he couldn’t argue because he had indeed been playing a far more risque version of footsie with Evan all night. They might not actually do anything in public, but they wound each other up incessantly. And sometimes there were very dark corners, or alcoves, where bodies might collide for a few brief moments. Of course they could simply duck out like all the other closeted couples did to get some privacy, but the game was part of their repertoire. 

In light of being gracious, Barty let the subject drop. 

“Want to go flying this afternoon?” he asked Regulus. 

“Want to smack some bludgers around you mean.”

“I’m always game. Plus it will help clear the system, sweat all that alcohol out.”

“Yeah, I don’t drink.”

“I meant out of my system.”

“Fine,” Regulus said. 

Flying was brilliant. Regulus amused him by hitting a bludger back and forth for over an hour. But then he made Barty do dives, which caused him to have to retreat behind the stadium to spew all over the yellowing grass.

Barty had been able to afford a second hand broomstick which wasn’t terrible. Beater’s didn’t have to have the fastest brooms anyhow. Someone looking at his gangly frame might not have guessed he was a decent beater, but what he lacked in muscle he made up for in enthusiasm. Every time a bludger flew at him he pictured it taking the shape of his father’s head. This was a violent image, make no mistake, but Barty Crouch Senior was a violent man. A violent man who did not hide the fact that he hated his son and blamed him for his mother’s mental health crisis. 

So yeah, Barty swung his bat with vicious force as a stream of his father’s most memorable insults played through his mind. 

He and Regulus returned to the castle with plenty of time to shower and dive into their mountain of homework.

...

Continue to Part V

This is part of my very epic story Our Love is Written in the Stars which you can find more about in my pinned post.

[succulent-ghoul]

Hey, so I was thinking about (Ghoul of your choice) x male ghoul reader who is a overachiever, with the mindset that if he's not good at it, he shouldn't do it at all, if he can't be the best, he's worthless and at first others think he just wants to rub it in their face, but then they realize he actually has a problem and he's overworking himself to the point where he doesn't care if he gets hurt kisses lunch or something. He sees this as punishment for not being perfect.

Have a great day!

Love this ask sm hehehehehe >:]

Swiss x male! Ghoul! Overachiever! Reader

Warning this will be a lil silly (cw: unhealthy eating habits/possibly disordered eating habits/extreme self worth issues/throwing up/vomiting) but it's hurt comfort cause I am to fuzzy not too. This ghouls is an earth ghoul. Hehehehehe

--

You had been practicing all day. You hadn't stopped for breakfast, or lunch, or even dinner preferring to eat cereal bars in place of meals, coffee in stead of water. This was common skipping meals to work yourself harder, shaking from how over caffeinated you were but it was all in pursuit of perfection. The other ghouls were off-put at first they thought you were cocky and snobbish and to an extent you could be. But pride wasn't what made you work yourself into bones, it was loathing. The deep seated feeling of not being enough as is that persisted your entire human life, and then in hell as a ghoul and now as a ghoul topside.

You sit at the drum set you've been shaking and you felt nauseous, you got up and ran to the nearest sink before throwing up what little food you ate. You quickly fall against the sink, before you know it your crying not from the ache in your stomach not from the acidic feeling climbing up your throat once again, but from the feeling of failure. The idea that you weren't working was making you sicker and shakier.

Swiss was frustrated he couldn't find his phone anywhere, he tried the den, the study, and the kitchen but it was nowhere. The last place swiss thought to look was the practice room, so he pushed open the broad doors to the band practice room. Immediately his attention was pinned onto you, your crumpled frame on the floor as if crushed in someone's hand.

You looked terrible and before you know it swiss has his phone and is pulling you up. His arms wrapping around you and picking you up before you can register his touch. You look back at swiss eyes wide and glassy from misery, swiss looks back his face stern but caring. The only reason you don't fight back when swiss starts carrying you back to the den is because your just so wrung out. You had no energy left, you were just tired.

You don't register entering swiss's room in the den, it's cozy though a nice carpet over the cold stone floor, a fireplace that swiss pauses to light, and a big comfortable bed. Swiss sets you on his bed and you grab his hand almost clinging too him, swiss looks back and softens "listen pretty boy, you haven't eaten all day. So I'm getting you food I'll be back but you must be patient." Swiss kisses you forehead as you shy away shame crawling up your throat once more. You bury yourself under swiss's many pillows and blankets as self doubt eats at your mind, and worry itches up your spine.

Soon swiss was back holding a tray of food. Softly he puts it on your lap and urges you to eat, "but," you start but are quickly cut off my swiss shoving some food in your mouth. Before you know it you've eaten the entire meal, swiss kisses the top of your head gently praising you as he sits next to you in his bed. You shy away from the praise, not liking how it settled in your skin and yet you were so exhausted you didn't fight it.

Swiss pulls you into a hug, soon your both under the covers and snuggling. Swiss presses kisses to the top of your head, and you can't help but lean into the attention that swiss was so willing to give. After pushing yourself so hard it was genuinely so nice to let yourself feel like you did good just by trying. Swiss scratched at your scalp as you held onto him like he was your last lifeline, some bit of you felt like this was a dream that this wasn't real. But each time that thought infected your mind swiss's claws in your scalp made sure to put that fear to rest.

[officialleehadan]

Eyes Met

Once Cursed

+++

“There’s a rumor, one of the old nobility is in the castle.”

Sorsha was helping in the gardens today, complete with a wide-brimmed hat that shaded her from the sun. Niala was beside her. The castle’s maids rotated through every position they could hold through the course of a moon. It looked random from the outside, but really it was a carefully-designed dance that made sure none of them were near Naevelon more than once or twice a month.

She was sure it was infuriating for him, and honestly, she really wasn’t terribly sympathetic to his plight. Until she was sure he wasn’t going to kill her on sight, she intended to stay hidden.

“Who is it?” she asked curiously. They carried a basket between them. It was time to harvest the peas. The morning was spent picking them. Now she and Niala were busy shelling the sweet green peas into a large bowl for Master Tassaros.  It was lazy work, seated in the fresh grass under a blooming apple tree, but they had been in the laundry all week. The light work was welcome. “Did you catch a name?”

“Only that it was a duke,” Niala said regretfully and dropped another handful of peas into the bowl. “One of the old ones.”

Hope filled Sorsha’s heart. There weren’t that many of the really old nobility left, and most died in Maeve’s massacre. Still, there were a few who hadn’t been in he castle, and one who, if he had been here, might have turned the tide in their favor.

“Can you finish the peas?” she asked with a look into their basket. They were mostly done, but there was another hour or so of work left. She didn’t doubt that Niala would be pleased for a little extra time in the gardens, but it was still polite to ask. Sorsha was careful to always ask her fellow maids. Maybe they would take her commands, but it wouldn’t be worth driving away the friends she needed so badly. “I think I need to know who it is.”

“I figured you would,” Niala said and waved her off. “Swap me your had for my head-scarf. The pale in your hair is starting to show.”

Sorsha winced. Her hair had always grown fast. Currently that was a problem, as it meant whatever they colored her hair with faded or grew out quickly and revealed the gold of her hair. She checked to make sure her tight braid was in place, and took Niala’s head scarf to hide the rest. When she was sure it was all covered, she handed over her hat.

“Good luck,” Niala said, still busy with the peas. “Come back when you’re done, we have more out here to do.”

“I will,” Sorsha promised. The work needed to be done, and for now, that meant she had to pull her weight. She would never again take the good food she ate for granted. Not now that she knew how much work it was to grow and make it. “I’ll meet you in the kitchens.”

It wasn’t far to the castle from their spot in the kitchen gardens, and Sorsha was having a good day with her curse. Her breath came easily, and she felt stronger than usual. It was a blessing on a day that she needed to be sneaking around where she ought not to be.

The castle was quiet today. The servants were all focused on their work. It was after lunch but still a while until dinner service, so there wasn’t much for anyone to do in the immediate. Sorsha paused to grab a laundry basket from the mending room on her way past. It was always better to be seen carrying something. A servant who was somewhere they weren’t supposed to be should always have a reason to be there. Collecting the mending was always a safe reason. The mending was eternal.

On through the castle she went, and stopped here and there to gather up the mending- might as well do the chore for real on her way- as she worked her way towards the noble quarters.

Even with a legitimate chore to explain her presence, Sorsha was careful to duck out of the way as soon as she heard voices, noble voices, coming towards her.

Her heart sank when it turned out not to be the duke she was seeking, whoever he was, but Naevelon and Maeve. They kept the careful distance of enemies between them. Sorsha knew by now that there was no love lost in their family. Naevelon didn’t particularly want to kill Maeve, but he would if she crossed him. Maeve, of course was vicious, and did not appreciate being ousted as queen. Still, she was unlikely to kill Naevelon outright. Not and risk their Imperial father’s wrath.

Even so, being seen by either of them was a danger she couldn’t afford.

Worse, there was nowhere to hide, and running would get their attention.

Instead, she sank into a low curtsy as they passed and kept her head down as if she was shy, which she wasn’t, or afraid, which she was.

“If you cross Duke Callum, he will kill you,” Naevelon was saying as they walked. Sorsha’s heart lifted. She knew Callum well, and trusted the old hero. She could ask for no finer ally, and he would surely be willing to help her. “He is not the harmless old man he appears and I have already sent word to Father of his presence. Do not think you can attempt to kill him and get away with it.”

“I would never,” Maeve said, a silken liar as always, but also irritated that her brother stole a march on her. Not, Sorsha thought, that Maeve could do much about Callum. He was the finest swordsman to ever live, but he was still a fine hand with magic. Fine enough to ward off most of Maeve’s tricks. He was also too old for her to simply seduce. Sorsha fought the urge to run from her tormentor. Maeve was close, too close, and she knew Sorsha’s face. “Not and risk your glorious departure from this land.”

“Do not assume you will be staying when I go,” Naevelon said sharply. He passed Sorsha almost close enough to touch. For a moment, she hoped she was safe. When the prince paused suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. “You. Girl. Look at me.”

“Your highness!”

An aged voice snapped from down the hall. Duke Callum walked into view, tottering as always, aided by his cane. Both the totter and the cane were, Sorsha knew well, illusions he could banish at will. From the sounds of things, Naevelon had figured that out as well.

For now, however, he provided the escape she hadn’t dared hope for. For a single moment, she met Callum’s eyes and received a lightning-quick wink in return.

The old hero knew exactly what he was doing, and who she was. He would come find her when he was ready.

Until then, her only job was not to be caught.

She could do that.

On silent, slippered feet, she ducked into the nearest of the noble rooms, empty for the moment and made for the servant’s passages from there.

Help had come at last.

+++

Once Cursed: (FULL COLLECTION)

Dance of Blades

Into the Underbrush (Subscriber Only!)

Behind the Walls

Changing Names (Subscriber Only!)

Fallen Down the Stairs

Stone-Faced

Careful Mending 

Old Warning (Subscriber Only!)

Old Warriors (NEW!)

Eyes Met (NEW!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 20

***

Since neither of them had planned on spending the whole day together, Kensi and Deeks decided to part ways for a few hours. Kensi knew she needed to finish some prep for next week, just in case they ended up spending tomorrow together too.

As she walked back into her apartment, her phone buzzed with a text from Nell.

Hey KayKay, wanna grab lunch?

Sorry, I already ate.

Rude.

I know, I’m a terrible friend. I was with Deeks.

Oh, then say no more. Actually, say lots more!

Kensi rolled her eyes at the winking and kissing emojis Nell added to her response.

Seriously, I feel bad I’ve barely spent any time with you recently.

Hey, a good friend never steps in the way of true love. Besides, you can pay me back by giving me all the dirty little details.

You’re awful.

And you love me for it. So when will my best friend be available again?

Kensi dipped ducked her head sheepishly, even though she was all alone, debating what to type back.

Um, maybe tomorrow evening? Caleb’s visiting with his grandma so we’re probably spending most of the weekend together.

Kensi Marie Blye! Nell responded and Kensi could almost hear her delighted shock through the screen.

Not like that.

Well why the hell not? Climb that gorgeous lawyer like a tree.

Nell Jones! That’s it. You’re out of control.

You know you want toooo!

Ok I’m putting you on silent.

Shaking her head, Kensi grabbed the binder of paperwork she brought home with her yesterday, and started in on the most intense grading session of her career.

***

While Deeks did had a few contracts to finalize, the real reason he’d suggested taking some time at home to prepare for their dinner. Given the late notice, he knew there was no way he’d get a reservation for one of the nicer restaurants.

Kensi wouldn’t care where they ate, he was almost certain, but he wanted their first real dinner together, alone, to be special. He’d decided on cooking dinner, but that required a trip for supplies.

When he got back three stores later—the first two were all out of bed tips—he started prepping potatoes, carrots, and onions and seared the beef tips. He hadn’t made this recipe in quite a while. Probably at least a couple years, so he had to actually pull out the stained cookbook his mom had passed down to him when he moved to college (the particular page he needed had actually fallen out years ago). He probably should have preserved all the recipes on index cards, but there was something special, almost sentimental, about squinting at the faded type and trying to interpret his mom’s handwritten notes.

Singing under his breath, he peeled several cloves of garlic, imagining Caleb’s reaction if he found out he’d missed out on one of his favorite meals. Of course, Grandma Deeks would almost certainly be filling him with a combination of her own home cooked delights and his favorite junk food, so he’d call it even.

He got into the flow of the things, chopping and sautéing that by the time he looked up from dumping a pot of perfectly boiled potatoes into a colander, it was almost seven, which gave him a little over an hour to finish everything up.

The beef tips were just about done, so he covered them with foil, setting them off to the side in the oven, and hurried out back to set up a table with the blue dishes head bought on a whim a few weeks ago because they reminded him of the ocean. Maybe surrounding the perimeter of the patio with lights and miniature lanterns was a tiny bit overkill, but he didn’t believe in doing things by halves.

Decorations and table set, he returned to the kitchen for the finishing touches. The doorbell rang just as he was tasting the gravy he just made.

“Oh yeah, you still got it, Marty,” he muttered to himself, then called over his shoulder, “Be there in a minute!”

He stashed a few dirty pans he hadn’t gotten around to cleaning in the dishwasher and glanced around to make sure there weren’t unsightly messes he’d missed. Though at this point, Kensi had probably seen worse and it didn’t seem to faze her in the least.

Kensi was patiently waiting on the front porch when he opened the door. She wore a red sundress, this one with a halter neck that displayed the defined muscles and lines of her shoulders and collar bones to perfection. Deeks didn’t know if she’d chosen it with him in mind, but the color suited her perfectly.

“Hey.” He kissed her briefly as she stepped over the threshold. “You look amazing.”

“Hi. And thank you.” Her eyes drifted over him approvingly, though she didn’t comment on his appearance. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. “What smells so delicious?”

“Dinner.”

“Wait, you cooked for me? I thought we were going out,” Kensi said, turning in the direction of the kitchen, though she couldn’t see from here.

“Yeah. I, uh, wanted to surprise you.” He shrugged, suddenly overcome with the rare bout of uncertainty that Kensi. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve loved everything you’ve made.” Kensi clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm making Deeks grin. “Ok, so I’m ready to be dazzled with your cooking expertise.”

“Follow me,” Deeks said, holding out his hand. She took it without question, letting him lead her out to patio.

“Oh my god, Deeks, this is beautiful!” Kensi exclaimed, turning in a circle to take in the twinkle lights strung around the patio and the table decorated with candles. “You did all this yourself?”

“Yeah, I told you my mom’s a caterer. I used to help her set up when I was a kid. I can turn a napkin into a swan in 20 seconds,” he responded, making Kensi giggle.

“Impressive.” She spun around in a circle, bringing her within reach of Deeks. Settling her hands on his shoulders, she covered his mouth with hers for a brief but sweet kiss. “Seriously though, this is amazing. Thank you, again.”

He smiled, pleased by her reaction. “Here for all your party planning needs,” he joked.

Kensi tipped her head to the side, her expression shifting slightly.

“What are you thinking about?” Deeks prompted, giving her hand a shake.

“Oh, all of this. You. How much my life has changed,” she said, moving her hand around to encompass Deeks and their surroundings. “I didn’t realize how much I was…missing until I met you Deeks. I mean, I was happy enough, but not like this. A few months ago, I would have never taken a day off like this. You’ve made everything brighter, and fun. Carefree. You and Caleb. You’ve changed my life without even knowing it.”

“Kens—” Deeks shook his head, overwhelmed by everything Kensi had just attributed to his influence. It was heady and a little scary.

She leaned up and kissed him, lingering for several moments. When their lips parted, she brushed his hair back from his temple with her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“You know you’ve changed my life just as much, maybe more,” Deeks told her, laughing breathily. “I mean, I was kind of prepared to become a hermit and spend the rest of my life alone. Then this really hot kindergarten teacher walked into my life.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” Kensi rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I meant it, you have changed my life, Marty Deeks.”

***

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little mix of fluff, romance, and humor.

I’m sorry if it’s unrealistic, but I can’t bear to write in text jargon.

[pbandjesse]

My throat hurts today! What the heck! This whole time I didn't have a voice my throat never really hurt and now I can talk I talked to much and made my throat hurt. Very annoying.

But I will not let it ruin my whole day. Because today was awesome. I had such a good day.

I slept alright last night. Though I woke up feeling very dried out. Which is probably what exasperated my throat. I got up and washed my face and drank some water and was able to go back to sleep.

When I woke up for real at 9 I felt alright. I stripped the bed and went to get washed and dressed. I decided to take a shower and wash my hair this morning. I do really like washing my hair in the day time rather then at night. I think it dries nicer. And even though I hate when my neck gets wet from my hair. It is almost worth it for me hair.

I walked around the apartment to assess what I needed to do before Naomi and Kim came over for a private sewing lessons. I was really excited. Also nervous! Terribly nervous!

James had made me breakfast and left it in the microwave. I appreciated that a lot. I warmed that back up and ate in the kitchen.

I put all the clean dishes away that were in the dishwasher. And loaded in the newly dirty stuff. I would start cleaning the apartment then. Three times today I would vacuum up some snails in the frog tank. Just continuing my battle against the snail invasion. But I mostly focused on cleaning the apartment and making it nice for guests.

Our vacuum had a big clog and I took that out on the fire escape and took it apart and cleaned it out. I would then vacuum and wipe things down. Dusting and putting things away. I was really happy with how the space was looking and feeling. Ignore our bedroom where all the Christmas stuff is piled, and James room where I moved my rocking chair and stool so I could set up the picnic table to have a work space. Everywhere looked great.

I would work on the studio for a bit. I did all the finishing sewing on the bears and horses from last night. So I have 4 more finished bears and 3 more horses. I am very pleased. I also have absolutely no more space on my cart.

I'm hoping when I do the holiday sales I can make some surprise bags or a sale basket to get some of the not as well made or ugly ones into new homes. Something I'll work on soon.

I was sewing and getting things ready. Poking around the apartment. I had a 4 hour video playing which helped me keep moving. I love when I don't have to stop whatever I'm doing to find a new thing to watch. I can just let it play and do my thing.

I would have some lunch. And work on a document to organize the houses we want to see because I felt like we had the listings in to many places and it was getting confusing. I do keep thinking about the yellow house. There would be work to be done. But our monthly expenses would go down so much. And I love a deal. And its a starter home! In a neighborhood I love! It might take work over time, but it also could be exactly what I wanted. Even if it's a little small. The basement storage is awesome. We might go see it again tomorrow. I hope it gives me clarity. In either direction.

I did one more vacuuming of the snails and as I was finishing that Kim, Naomi's mom, texted me they were downstairs.

She was actually trapped by a bus waiting at the light. So I got a good laugh about that. I brought them inside though and was excited to show off the building. It really is beautiful. And I do love it here. Even if I am ready to move into a new home, I still love it here.

And Kim was so nice. She thought we had the nicest place and kept saying how cool it was and how organized I am. And that felt really good. I worked hard on that!! Like I know I'm a maximalist. I have so much. But it's all in its place. And I know where things are.

Naomi was very interested in Sweetp and my fish tanks. Omelet was not out so later I would send pictures and Naomi was very excited about that. In her own way. She's very quiet and has a flat affect. But I enjoy her. She is funny.

We would sit down, after looking at my fish tank with Ari the Betta, and got to work. She brought 7 koopalings to try to create clothes for. We would make 3. Two in felt and one in a cotton. I cut everything out and we went over the pattern I created. Which I made almost the exact right size and was very proud of myself.

We worked on whip stitching. Pinning. Tying off (which she was very good at! Which most people struggle with). Buttons. And then we did some hemming with a running stitch. It was great.

Naomi was funny though and every once in a while she would ask if it was time to go. Her mom was just like. Not quite yet. And we kept working. We would have one of the shirts into a jacket for a koopaling with to big a head. And we would reenforce that one in the sewing machine.

Kim was fun to talk to as well. About my collections and music. Stuff Naomi is in to, stuff I'm into. Sewing and art and things. It was a really nice afternoon.

We worked on the sewing machine for a while. We discussed how to hem the necks of the shirts. I also showed them how to do a blanket stitch which they might use to make a fleece blanket for their grandma for Christmas. So sweet.

Kim would venmo James to pay me and said I'm not charging enough so she gave me some extra which was very kind of her. And she she scheduled to come back in a few weeks. Amazing. I'm so glad she trusts me to teach Naomi stuff. I think it's also just my energy. I was thrilled though and had such a good time.

I walked them down and said goodbye. Made sure they were alright getting out. And then I was alone again.

I had a bag of stuff to take to the car. So I went to do that. Just some junk to take to camp. It was very beautiful outside.

I came back upstairs and started putting stuff away. Put the room back together. And got cuddled on the couch. Had some cheese and crackers. Throat was hurting but I was having a good time.

James would come home early. I was happy to see them. They would make us dinner and we talked about our days. I got very tired all of a sudden. I enjoyed my corn on the cob and vegetarian crab cakes. But then I just wanted to lay on the couch with sweetp and watch videos.

Eventually James joined me. They read while I scrolled and was a baby about my throat hurting.

I would go take a bath. It helped a little. But really I'm just very tired. I am ready to sleep. It's nice to be clean and in pajamas. Texting Jess and helping her find vintage knobs to match the ones she got at the thrift yesterday. She said I was amazing. I am such a good finder.

I am ready to sleep now. Tomorrow we are going to the B&O museum for a belated birthday for James. And then we are supposed to go see houses. I hope we do. I hope we find something great. On a great block.

Wish us luck. I love you all. Goodnight everyone!

[solidwater05]

Today I dreamed that I was either playing some sort of puzzle game, or trying to steal something from a very smug rich person's home, because I was given hints that were too vague to solve and a person would appear and tease me about me inevitably failing. (One of the hints was just '(out of this group) you can only take one'. WHICH ONE.)

[PT: '(out of this group) you can only take one. Which one. /End PT]

There was some sort of creepy mossy dungeon. I don't remember a lot of this part. It was all set under a zoo that was at school for some reason (it looked nothing like my irl school)

When I got out, I wanted to go in again but it was raining and the zoo mode was activated which means that all the entrances were covered with animal enclosures. This was because there were parents watching and they weren't supposed to know about the mansion

In a completely different scene, a species of bee was a cross between other two bees (one looked normal and the other was black and white and had cute little bear ears), and I wanted to test if it was really true so I spawned two tiny flowers, each one with one of the bees, and planted them in my brother's bed. When I woke up next morning, an entire ecosystem had formed and there were flamingos, kangaroos, and a whole bunch of bugs (note that the big animals were smaller than my thumb). And all of them were tangled in my hair >:(

So after fixing that problem, I had to make sure that the bees did have a specific species as offspring. This happened in a weird Clash Royale battle repetition in which the troops had a random chance of combining and creating new troops? Yes, I did get the bee I wanted. Not sure how I know if there weren't any bees in the repetition

I went outside to have dinner with my cousins. It was on the second floor of a church...? It was night and the lights were very dim and yellow, and everything was small, like it was made for little children. This was set outdoors

We had soup, except that there were three chocolates inside (... with their envelopes) and the soup was meant to be sweet so you had to melt the chocolates inside of it. I ate one whole, plastic and all, and decided it was a terrible idea and melted them. One of them was shaped like Darth Vader's helmet

At some point I wanted more chocolate so I had to buy tickets for going to the dinner place thing where I just came from? Dream me thought this was reasonable

Then I wanted to do it again, but they only had tickets for lunch at midday, and me and my whole group were vampires and we'd burn in the sun so we had to pretend to be humans with normal human reasons to avoid the sun

Also, I was the one buying the tickets. Dunno who in my group decided I was the one with the best social skills but they were WRONG.

[PT: Dunno who in my group decided I was the one with the best social skills but they were wrong. /End PT]

[im-a-wonderling]

Bruises, Part 13 ~ Peter Pevensie

Y’all should be very proud of me because writing this part was SO HARD. It was like pulling out teeth every step of the way. Many thanks to @writing-on-the-wahl for encouraging me and reminding me that flawed stories are better than stories that don’t exist at all. 

Warnings: sleazy encounter, there’s a slap, and some threats? I never know what to put for warnings

Word count: 6.5k of the most painful words of my life

Bruises Masterlist

Anger was such an ugly thing.

Partly so because of the way it wormed and twisted its way through the gut, weighing down the lungs and making it nearly impossible to breathe. 

And partly because of what people did to get rid of it. 

Some people shoved it far down until it blew up and then mashed it back down again. Others used it as fuel and did terrible acts in its name. Still more seemed to be subject to it at every turn, never cautious or patient, but always detrimentally rash. 

Part of me wondered where Gonin fell on that spectrum. 

Me?

I glowered at Peter’s bookshelves as I used a dirty rag to wipe them down, more thoroughly than I ever had before. My anger simmered underneath my skin just outside of reach while the comments I’d hurled at the high king last night played over and over in my head.

I could recount every detail of Peter’s shocked and angry expressions, the way he’d asked if I’d ever killed anyone. He couldn’t truly have believed that I was going to stay completely on the sidelines when Gonin was concerned, like some helpless damsel in distress. 

Maybe once upon a time, I would’ve, but not anymore. 

After all, I still have to clean your study in the morning.

I pursed my lips as I moved the papers from the top drawer of Peter’s desk to wipe the inside of the drawer. By the time I finished with Peter’s study, it was going to be the cleanest it had ever been in its entire existence. 

********

I kneeled on the floor of the White Witch’s throne room, my kneecaps freezing against the icy floor, and my arms secured behind my back with what felt like rope.

“Choose,” said a heartless voice. 

Twisting to look, I saw Jadis on my right, sitting on her throne and clutching her wand, and on the other side of her was an unconscious King Edmund. 

“Choose.”

“I can’t,” said a second voice, familiar in every way except the despair woven within it. “Please don’t make me.”

“Choose!”

Peter stood on the other end of the throne room, his outstretched sword shaking slightly in his hands. “I will save them both!” 

The Witch brandished her wand, and I cried out as Peter’s sword flew out of his hand and clattered onto the floor, too far away to be of any use to Peter. The ripples of the magical force from the wand hit me, powerful enough to bowl me over despite not being aimed directly at me. “You can only save one,” the Witch said. “Will you save the woman you love or your brother?” 

“I can’t choose!” Peter insisted.

Jadis rose to her full height, her crimson lips stretching into an inhumane smile. “Then I will kill them both.”

“No!” Peter roared, running forward, but he was too far away. 

The White Witch stepped towards me, the dagger in her hand glinting in the limited light. Her fingers grabbed my hair, jerking my head back and exposing my throat.

“Y/N!!”

-

I woke with a loud gasp, my hands flying up to my neck. I couldn’t feel anything except my rapid heart rate. 

I knew with absolute certainty that dream was not my own, but I couldn’t dismiss it. 

Not when the echoes of Peter’s panic still thrashed in my chest.

I tossed and turned, uncertain what awaited me if I closed my eyes and drifted off. The moment the sky outside the window started to lighten, I rolled out of bed and started to change. 

I needed to put myself to work. 

********

While the rest of the palace ate lunch, Peter and I faced each other in the library with King Edmund watching. King Edmund had summoned me before I could sit down to lunch, and from the grumbling of stomachs I could hear, the kings hadn’t eaten either, and weren’t happy about it.

My anger, however, had stolen my appetite completely. 

I couldn’t even look at Peter, choosing to keep my arms crossed and stare at the carpet between us. We both seemed to be waiting for the other to say something, but neither of us did, so the silence stretched on.

King Edmund sat behind the desk, his hands nervously shifting between straightening the already straight papers and dipping the already wet quill into the inkwell. “Well,” he said, obviously uncomfortable. “Shall we try and trade?”

I stepped closer to Peter, only able to look as high as his chest as we inched closer to each other. 

The closer we got, the more I wanted to pull away, but I forced myself to stay still, despite the uncomfortable clenching in my stomach. I tried not to flinch when I felt his breath on my face, keeping my face smooth and impassive as our foreheads touched. 

Nothing happened. 

Not a single image flashed before my eyes, not a single emotion felt beyond my own, still twisting in my gut. 

Peter pulled away and then pressed his forehead against mine again.

Still nothing happened. 

Peter stepped back, yet I couldn’t be glad for the space between us because his confused look at his brother spoke of deep displeasure. “What’s going on? Why isn’t it working?”

King Edmund was clearly taken aback. “I-I don’t know, none of my research said anything about the trading not working anymore!” He started shuffling the papers on the desk. Peter strode over to the desk to join him in studying the papers, leaving me standing all alone in the center of the room. 

“It can’t stop working,” I heard Peter mutter frustratedly. “Not now.” 

What did that mean? What memory did Peter desperately want to see? 

Peter and his brother continued to ruffle through the parchment, King Edmund methodic, Peter frantic. Their muttering wasn’t loud enough for me to decipher.

I was tempted to just inch out the door, wondering how long it would take them to notice if I left. I could return to my work, a place where I could be useful instead of idly standing around, waiting for the moment where I was asked to weigh in. 

But for all the rights Peter told me I had when it came to our relationship, I couldn’t leave without the permission of my king. 

So I just wrapped my arms around my body protectively, trying to be patient as I watched them both search with an almost delirious fervor.

My upper arms were sore from all the chutzpah I’d put into cleaning the study. In the hopes of easing some of my overall discomfort, I slowly massaged the muscles. 

“Maybe we should call it a day,” King Edmund finally suggested, sitting back in his chair with defeat written all over his face. “See if the trading works tomorrow.”

“No!” Peter barked, slamming a fist down on the desk so abruptly that I jumped. “We have to fix this!”

“Maybe King Edmund and I should try to trade,” I suggested, causing both of the men to look up at me questioningly. “I mean, we were always going to try that, so let’s do it now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter squint at me slightly, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

King Edmund’s thoughts, however, were crystal clear as he uneasily glanced at his brother. “Maybe now isn’t the best time for that,” he said. 

“Why not?” I pushed. “If it’s no longer working with Peter and I, maybe that’s a sign.” 

“A sign of what?” Peter asked quietly. I made eye contact with him for the first time and suddenly noticed the bruise-like shadows under his eyes. They were even worse than mine. Did the dream last night affect him that much? Or did the conundrum of who to save still plague him?

From the way he’d been mumbling with his brother a moment ago, not acknowledging me at all, I wondered if the conundrum wasn’t a conundrum at all, and if all that plagued him was guilt. 

A lump grew in my throat, but my voice was steady as I replied: “A sign that maybe the trading has nothing to do with soulmates.” Peter’s shoulders seemed to sag, and the pricks of guilt started in my stomach, but I ignored them. “Look, whether it works or doesn’t work, we’ll learn more.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that, though?” King Edmund asked. “A few weeks ago, you weren’t.”

“Well, now I am.” 

King Edmund glanced at Peter, who was still staring at me. I met Peter’s gaze, unable to tell what he was thinking and unsure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

Peter nodded slowly. “Let’s try it.”

King Edmund seemed taken aback. “Pete, are you sure–”

“Let’s try it,” Peter interrupted, in his kingly voice that left no room for argument. 

King Edmund looked quite like he wanted to argue, but pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He edged closer to me, constantly looking back at Peter for his reaction. 

When he stood close enough to touch me, my breathing began to get shallow, but I forced myself to breathe in and out slowly, not wanting either king to see any sign of cold feet. 

“Are you sure you want to–” the Just King asked, but before he could finish, I stepped forward, pushing my forehead up to his. 

-

The sight of the icy throne room again made me frantically search the room for Peter, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Jadis wasn’t sitting on her throne, but merely standing in front of it, glowering at the small, dark-haired boy who stood in front of her, shaking in clothes that were nowhere near warm enough. 

“I don’t–” the younger version of King Edmumd began to say, but Jadis backhanded him so suddenly, I jumped. The boy yelped, covering the hurt with his hand. 

“Don’t disobey me!” Jadis shrieked, not unlike an eagle, and a greatly angered eagle at that.

As I watched, a drop of blood grew on King Edmund’s trembling lip, and I looked away, a strange aching guilt growing in my chest.

-

King Edmund reeled away from me, reaching up a hand to cover his face. “Ouch!” he said, sounding more surprised than hurt. He pulled his hand away to look at it, but of course, there was nothing there. “That’s bizarre,” he muttered.

“Did you see a memory?” Peter asked immediately. When neither of us answered, Peter came closer. “What did you see?” he insisted, grabbing his brother’s shoulder a little too roughly. 

“I didn’t see anything,” King Edmund rubbed his face, “but I felt something.”

I quickly tried to master my confused expression before either of the kings looked my way. Why had I seen a memory when he hadn’t? I’d assumed it was his memory. “What did you feel?” I asked, trying to sound genuinely curious instead of terrified. 

“My face hurts,” King Edmund traced a finger across his lower lip over where the wound had been in the memory I’d seen, “and I feel…scared. A bit nauseous too.”

He’d felt his emotions and pain—I’d seen his memory. How was that possible? When I’d accidentally traded with Gonin, we’d only felt emotions. Did trading with Peter completely open up my trading capability? 

Then, my heart sank as another theory presented itself. 

What if the reason I’d seen that memory was because it was my own? 

 “What about you, Lady Y/N?” King Edmund asked.

Peter’s attention shifted to me, his face grimly tense as his eyes continuously shifted in between myself and his brother. 

Over and over, I’d seen examples of Peter’s allegiance to his family. Even in the dream last night, I’d seen him torn between King Edmund and myself, and he hadn’t been able to make a choice. If I told them I’d seen a memory when King Edmund hadn’t, Peter might assume what I feared. That I might’ve been there when King Edmund was held captive. 

And then what would he think of me?

“Y/N?” Peter prompted.

I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face, and if it resembled the way he’d looked at me last night…

“I-I feel hungry,” I lied, the churning of my stomach anything but hunger. “Maybe a little bit stressed?” 

Peter eyed me. “Why would Ed’s face hurt?” 

“I bumped into one of the shelves in your study,” I said hesitantly, “when I was cleaning it yesterday. I was in a hurry.”

Peter’s formerly detached expression was suddenly weighed down with skepticism. “What? Why? You’ve cleaned that study a bunch of times before.”

“I…” My words petered out as I tried to figure out what to say. “I…”

But before a proper excuse could form, he beat me to it. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?” Peter lowered his eyes, looking pained. “You were worried I’d come in, and you didn’t want to see me.”

I couldn’t even be pleased that he’d provided me a reason. At that moment, I couldn’t figure out which was worse: telling Peter I may have been there for one of his little brother’s lowest moments or letting him think I’d been trying to avoid him.

Peter took my silence as confirmation, turning back to face his brother. “So the two of you don’t see memories either.” Considering this preserved the theory of the special connection Peter and I shared, I would’ve expected him to sound more excited. 

But when Peter looked back at me, his sad eyes intensified the heaviness of my heart in my chest. 

“Lady Y/N and Pete remain the only combination that leads to memory trading,” King Edmund returned to his seat at the desk, “so we have to do whatever we can to get back to where you two can trade again.”

Peter and I glanced at each other at the same time and quickly looked away when we saw the other was looking. 

Nobody said anything, and the awkward silence pained me more than anything else. 

Someone rapped on the library door.

“Enter,” Peter said easily, schooling his features into a neutral expression. 

A footman poked his head inside. “Your majesties, the advisors are waiting for you to discuss the blind spots in the watchtowers.”

“Thank you, we’ll be there momentarily.” 

I blinked as the footman bowed and retreated.

There was a time when Peter would’ve told the footman to inform the advisors that he was busy and reassured me that none of us were going to leave the library until everything had been sorted out. 

Was he giving up? 

Peter turned to me, poised to say something, but as soon as he met my eyes, he just stopped, lips parted, eyebrows corrugated, and eyes resembling that of a talking squirrel who’d just been kicked. 

My fingers twitched, my body begging me to go and comfort him, but Peter squeezed his eyes shut, letting out an uncharacteristically shaky breath before swiveling to leave the library.

King Edmund shot me an apologetic look and followed his brother.

For a three count, I just stared at the closed door.

Was that it? Was I dismissed? Did they want me to wait? They hadn’t told me anything. 

I put my back to the door, bracing a hand on the wall. When did our relationship get so complicated? Was it possible for everything to change so much in a few weeks that a relationship went from meant-to-be to a complete and utter disaster? 

The memory trading was making everything more difficult. Was the pursuit of the truth really worth this? Or was I just making everything worse by wanting more than a servant was allowed to reach for? 

Maybe being no longer able to trade really was a sign. 

But a sign of what? 

A sign to immediately cease all trading activities? 

The door behind me creaked open, and I paused, closing my eyes for a moment, wishing I’d just left as soon as Peter had gone. “Peter, I really don’t want to talk about it right now,” I warned.

“Talk about what?” said a voice that was too sordid to belong to Peter.

I whirled around, heart racing, certain Gonin had cornered me at last and wondering if King Edmund had any weapons in his drawer. 

But it was Prince Relalo. 

I quickly curtsied. “Your Highness, I apologize, I thought you were someone else.”

“I was looking for High King Peter.” Prince Relalo came through the door, shutting it behind him as he smiled a little too widely for my liking. “But I don’t mind running into you.”

A bad feeling started to grow in my gut, and I knew with certainty that this was a bad situation, but the prince was standing in between me and the door. “You’re very kind, but I’m afraid I have work I must get to.” I made to walk around him, but he shifted to block my way. 

“I didn’t know you were a maid,” he stepped closer, making me step back, “I thought the king said you were a lady.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering what the proper response was to that. “What difference does it make?”

“A big difference.” Prince Relalo tilted his head slightly. “Of course, it makes more sense why you were so keen on talking to me last night.” 

“No–I wasn’t–I didn’t–” I fumbled for words as he stepped closer. 

“I have to say, my lady, I like the way you think.” He gestured to himself, and my stomach churned. 

“I wasn’t–” My words cut off as he stepped even closer. I instinctively retreated from his advance. My legs bumped into King Edmund’s desk, and I realized too late that the movement left me with nowhere to go.  

“Peter may be a king, but there’s already four kings and queens, so what does that make you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to be–”

“But back in Calormen, there’s only one Tisroc, may he live forever, at a time.” 

When Prince Relalo lifted a hand, like he was going to stroke my cheek, I slid away to stand behind the desk, trying to keep the desk in between us, but he moved quickly to stay on the same side of the desk. 

“With me, you’d be the only one.”

“Please don’t! Please, just leave me alone–”

“Everyone would have to adore you.” 

“I don’t want to be adored!”

Prince Relalo laughed. “Everyone wants to be adored.” His hand closed around my wrist.

I couldn’t explain what it was, only what it felt like. 

And what it felt like was a miniature explosion that radiated from somewhere in my chest out past the confines of my own body. And the split second of fear on Prince Relalo’s face before he was blasted backwards was sweeter than anything I could ever remember experiencing before. 

Distantly I heard the sound of impact and a bunch of crashing noises, but I couldn’t really focus on anything other than the violent thrumming in my shaking hands.

By Aslan.

The sheer power that vibrated underneath my skin, awaiting my command, reminded me of the anger I’d been trying to expel. I felt more alive than I could remember feeling in my life. Would it ever be possible for me to wrap my head around feeling this powerful? This almighty? 

I stared at my trembling fingers. How did something like that come from me? 

I heard yelling, and I looked up from my hands to see Prince Relalo on the floor, among what used to be King Edmund’s desk. 

The desk was broken in pieces, the chunks of wooden pieces that would now only be useful as firewood. The meticulously ordered papers were scattered everywhere, and puddles of ink steadily grew on the beautiful, wine-colored carpet. 

“Sorcery!” Prince Relalo cried, raising an accusing finger in my direction from his place on the floor. “You’re a witch!”

Before I could say or do anything, the door opened, and a host of soldiers poured into the library, faces alert and weapons ready.

“She’s a sorceress!” Prince Relalo cried, raising one hand to point an accusing finger in my direction and the other to hold pressure on a bloody cut on his forehead.

The soldiers looked from Relalo to me, their grip shifting on their weapons, clearly conflicted about what to do.

“I’ll go get the king!” one of the soldiers shouted and ran out the library door. 

I didn’t know to which king he was referring to, but it apparently didn’t matter, because both came much quicker than I would’ve thought possible.

King Edmund was slightly hunched over and out of breath, but Peter walked into the library with his posture straighter than I’d ever seen it. “What’s going on?” he asked the room, taking the time to survey the scene.

“She assaulted me with dark magic!” Prince Relalo shouted, finally getting to his feet to come closer, and I quickly backed away. 

Peter didn’t spare me a glance, but he slyly walked forward, masterfully placing himself in between me and the prince as he asked: “Prince Relalo, what were you doing in here? This library is for the personal use of the Narnian monarchs.” 

“I came across her cleaning in here when I was in search of you, high king, and as soon as she saw me, she flung herself at me and proceeded to proposition me!” Prince Relalo raised his voice to be heard over the muttering that tore through the room. “When I turned her away, she proceeded to attack me with her dark magic!” The soldiers started exchanging looks of alarm. “She’s a promiscuous witch!”

Witch.

The worst possible thing to be called in Narnia.

An object having magic was acceptable. Queen Lucy’s cordial, Queen Susan’s bow and horn, and Peter’s sword had done unimaginable good, and the kings and queens’ generosity with their magical gifts was greatly admired by all their people. 

But a living being having magic…a human having magic? And the human involved with the high king, no less?

It seemed so many people disapproved of our relationship already, but news of this development would spark a witch hunt that would chase me from Narnia’s borders, from the one place I’d ever been safe from Gonin.

“False accusations will do you no good,” Peter said in his king voice, and I wished I had a fraction of his self-control to keep myself from showing fear. But my knees were quaking when Peter put his back to the prince and turned to me. “How did this happen?” he asked, gesturing at the mess on the floor, his formal voice not changing.

I felt my shoulders cave in as I wished more than anything that I could come up with some feasible lie. But there was none. There was no way an ordinary woman could push a man bigger than her so violently that it could break furniture. 

“You’d believe the word of a maid over the word of a prince?” Prince Relalo shrieked, clearly offended to the highest degree.

“Here in Narnia, Prince Relalo,” King Edmund said quietly, “I think you’ll find that one’s station means nothing if one is discovered to be lacking in integrity.” 

 Peter’s face was completely businesslike, still waiting for me to say something, to explain away this peculiar circumstance. “What happened?” he pressed.

“He wanted to take me back to Calormen with him and marry me.” I fought the shudder then ran down my body. “He…he grabbed me.” 

Peter knew better than anyone how that would make me feel. The muscles in his neck tensed, and for a moment, such nausea crossed his face, I wondered if he was going to be sick. 

Before Peter could say anything, from behind him, Prince Relalo lunged. Whether he was attempting to persuade his point with Peter or silence me, I didn’t know, but the power simmering in me responded. 

A second blast of power even stronger than the first surged from me, exploding out into the room. 

Cries of distress came from all around me as the soldiers and monarchs struggled to stay upright against the force like a strong wind. 

I felt their distress feed straight into the absolute power. 

Prince Relalo, the clear target, went flying into the bookshelves behind him. 

I stared at my hands again, and this time, I could faintly see it. 

The magic.

It was a slight, white shimmer, curling and twisting around my fingers like tiny, boneless snakes.

This beautiful power was mine, it lived in me. 

And it felt glorious. 

“Y/N,” Peter gasped, making me look up. 

He’d been knocked to the ground by the blast, same as everyone else. And like everyone else, he wore a look of absolute horror. 

“I told you!” Prince Relalo crowed, getting up again, clutching his arm. “She’s a witch!”

Peter’s face became stony as he slowly rotated to face the prince. “Prince Relalo,” Peter stepped closer to the prince, his pace slow and threatening, “I’m afraid your visit here is over.” 

“What?! She’s the one who attacked me!” The soldiers closest to Prince Relalo—a centaur and a satyr—seized his upper arms, tightly it seemed for Prince Relalo cried out. “I’m a prince of Calormen, my father is the Tisroc, may he live forever! You can’t do this to me!” the prince shouted as the soldiers started to drag him away. 

King Edmund glowered at the prince, the other side of Peter’s emotionless coin. “We hold everyone to a standard of which you’ve fallen short, and you and your sister are no longer welcome here.”

“My father will hear about this!” the prince cried as the soldiers escorted him away. 

The remaining soldiers stared at me, their expressions lodged somewhere between wonder and terror. I averted my stare, my eyes instead falling on the mess where Prince Relalo had fallen.

The ink still dripped out of the inkwells, staining the deep, regal red of the carpet and the tatters of the desk. Whatever high I’d been feeling from that mysterious force was gone. 

In it’s place was merciless shame.

“Thank you for sending for me,” Peter told the soldiers, clearly dismissing them. But there was a conspicuous lack of movement, the soldiers clearly uncertain about their king’s safety. “Return to your posts, please.” A direct order that none of them could disobey.

The soldiers started to troop out of the library, casting many glances over their shoulders as they went. The door closed behind them, leaving the two kings alone with me. 

I immediately strode over to the remnants of the desk, setting the ink wells upright. The crimson carpet was beyond repair, but I used my skirts to start dabbing at it.  “I’ll clean it all up!” I could feel the ink staining my fingers, but I didn’t stop. “I’ll-I’ll tell the household mistress, and s-she can talk to someone about replacing the desk-”

“Y/N,” said Peter softly.

“I’ll scrub the ink from the carpet, you’ll never know it was there-”

“Y/N.” 

I could hear the frustration in Peter’s voice, and I scrambled to collect the pages that had flown every which way. “I’ll pick this all up, I swear!”

“Y/N, leave it, it’s okay.”

I shook my head jerkily. I had to do something, I had to compensate, I had to prove my usefulness, something to get rid of the shame curling like pure evil in my gut–

“I’ll go inform the princess of their departure,” I heard King Edmund say.

“Clear the hallway while you’re at it, Ed, I’m sure there are some busybodies lingering to find out more.”

King Edmund must’ve given some non-verbal answer, for I heard him walk to the door and leave. 

“Y/N.”

“There must be something that can get this ink stain out of the carpet,” I told him, starting to pick up the feather quills. “I’m sure there’s something I can–”

Peter’s hand came into my view, gently squeezing mine. “Y/N, it’s okay, just leave it.”

“I can pay for the damages!” I burst out. “You can take the cost of the rug and the desk out of my wages–”

“Y/N, stop!” he said sharply. 

All the energy went out of me in a rush, and I collapsed backwards, sinking into the thick rug as the pile of papers spilled from my hands. It wasn't until I drew my fingers up to cover my flushed cheeks that I realized my hands were shaking. 

“Y/N.” Warm hands tugged at my wrists until my face was exposed. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t even know I could do that–" 

"Shhhhhh.” One of Peter's arms moved around my back, his hand was a hair's breadth from touching my shoulder when he pulled back. 

"Are you ok? Can I–" The heart wrenching trepidation in his voice was the only thing strong enough to get me to meet his gaze. Whatever bitterness I still carried around my heart from our argument shattered at the expression on his face. “Can I carry you?”

“Wha-what? Where are we going?”

“I just want to get you somewhere safe where I can clean you up. If you walk, you might track ink.” Peter gestured to my feet, and I looked down to see the ink soaking my feet. 

“What will people think if they see you carrying me? When word travels about what happened–”

“I don’t care about anyone else just now.”

As shaken as I felt, the bleakness of Peter’s face worried me. I recognized the mirror of what I felt—the desire to do something, to be able to control something. 

I could allow him to do something, to make him feel better.

“Okay.”

Peter came closer, bending down and guiding my arms around him before easily picking me up. 

My hands shook from their place around his neck, and I buried my head in his chest, trying to even out my breathing. “What is everyone going to do?” I whimpered, holding myself closer to him. “He’s going to tell everyone, and everyone knows about us. What will they do?”

Peter didn’t say anything, he just pressed a kiss to my forehead as he walked down the corridor.

But when we reached the fork in the corridor, instead of going right towards the servant's quarters and the kitchen, he turned left and made a beeline for the monarch’s bedchambers.

His bedchamber? Why was he taking me to his bedchamber? I instinctively tensed up, and then froze, praying the magic wouldn’t sense my distress, come out of me again, and hurt Peter. 

If I hurt Peter, I’d never forgive myself. 

When Peter managed to open the door, he walked straight through the room to the bathroom.

He set me on the edge of the tub and left my view for a moment. 

I caught sight of myself in the mirror on the wall, noticing the ink that covered my shoes, my clothes, my hands, and even my face. 

How fitting it was that my outsides matched how filthy my insides felt. 

Peter came back with some supplies in his hands, setting them down before kneeling down and reaching for my shoes. Before I could comprehend what he was doing, Peter untied the laces of one of my stained, worn shoes and slipped it off.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “This is beneath your station!” Peter ignored me, moving to untie my second shoe. I shuddered to think about the consequences if his people knew what he was doing, that he was kneeling before a witch. “You shouldn’t do this, Peter, I can clean myself up, you have more important things to do–”

My voice died as Peter’s fingers started to wander past the hem of my dirty skirts to find the top of my stocking. So gingerly it tickled, his long fingers peeled the stocking away, leaving my foot bare as he moved to the other foot.

I unconsciously held my breath when his calloused fingers scraped against my skin, trying to hold still. 

The ink had bleed clean through my shoes and stockings, blemishing my toes with black. 

Wordlessly, Peter filled a fancy cream-colored china basin with water and then set it down by my ink-stained feet. He gently lifted my feet to slide the basin underneath and set my feet inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked again. Peter didn’t answer, instead grabbing an expensive bar of soap that I could never afford at my highest wage. “Don’t!” I squeaked. “Don’t use that on me!”

He ignored me, working up a lather on a washcloth with the bar of soap before lifting my right foot and starting to delicately rub the cloth against my skin, the water quickly turning a murky gray. 

“Peter–” I began, starting to pull my feet away from him. 

But my sudden movement jolted the water in the basin, sending inky water spraying in every direction. Mortified, I felt the blood drain from my face as I saw the dark drops splattered across the floor.

“No! Oh, Peter, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Y/N,” Peter said, his voice breaking. 

I couldn’t look up from the floor, noticing the wet patches that were growing in the knees of Peter’s pants. “I’m so, so sorry, I’ll clean it up–”

Peter used one of his wet fingers to lift my chin up. “I don’t care about the floor. Just…” He took a shuddering breath. “Just let me do this,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please?”

When I didn’t say anything, his hand gently caught my ankle, guiding my foot down and submerging it in the water. A protesting whine broke through my lips, but I didn’t dare fight him for fear of making an even greater mess and damaging further luxurious things that were too pristine for me. 

There was no sound but the quiet dip and splash of the warm cloth and the soothing rub against my feet. 

Once my feet were clean, Peter moved to my face.

I closed my eyes, hating how comforting a sensation the washcloth was against my cheek. I didn’t deserve such gentle care, not with what was living inside me. What had been living in me this whole time. 

The washcloth left my cheek, and I heard the sound of it being dunked in water and rung out before Peter started wiping down my right hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, which startled me enough to crack open my eyes. “I foolishly believed that there would be no consequences for having you at the ball. Instead, my actions put you in danger.”

“Peter-”

“If I hadn’t cornered you into accompanying me to the ball, he wouldn’t have known what you mean to me.” Both my hands were completely clean now, and still Peter gently attended to my left hand, as if there was something other than ink he was trying to wipe away.  “And I’m sorry for the fight we had afterwards.” 

The fingers of my right hand curled and uncurled in my lap, plucking nervously at the fabric of my skirts.

“I’m terrified of you getting hurt, and I can’t forget about what Gonin has done to you in the past, and I would never forgive myself if I lost you to him.” Peter bit down on his lower lip. “Now I know that my fears were making me lose you anyway.”

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was never in danger of losing me either way, but I couldn’t. Normally, hearing him open up this way would’ve made my heart melt, but now we had bigger problems.

“Peter, what are we going to do?” I covered my face with my hands, incapable of watching how gently he took care of me. “What if I have to leave Narnia?”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, Peter!” I burst out, and Peter’s hands paused in their lathering. “Once word spreads, they’ll call for a witch hunt and run me out of the country!”

“They would have no right to do so,” Peter said firmly. His resolve should’ve been comforting, but now it just seemed naïve. 

“No, you don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?” 

“Today, with King Edmund, I did see a memory.” 

Peter pulled back slightly, and I wanted nothing more than to pull him closer again. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I was scared.” 

“What were you scared of?” Peter gently laid a hand on my knee. “Baby, look at me.” When I didn’t move, I felt his fingers gently encircle my wrist, pulling my hands away from my face. “Talk to me.” 

“I saw King Edmund in the White Witch’s throne room.” Peter’s eyes grew, and I could practically see the images of his dream passing behind them. “She struck him.”

Peter’s face whitened. “But…how could you see his memory without him seeing it too?”

My heart leapt into my throat, and I tried very hard not to cry as I said: “I don’t think it was his memory. I think it was mine.”

Peter’s mouth fell open, his eyes growing wide.

“That’s why I would have to leave. Because if someone were to discover my past in addition to the inevitable rumors of magic?” I bit my lip. “It wouldn’t take a genius to realize that I’m not a suitable match for a king.”

Peter shook his head. “The rumors will eventually die, and we don’t know anything for sure about your past.”

“Peter, my mother worked for the Witch. I have a memory of being there when the Witch hurt your brother.”

“I could never blame you for what the Witch did. What did you tell me the other day?” Peter cupped my face, the sweetness of the gesture undermined by how tense his fingers were. “ You are responsible for your actions and no one else’s. Not Jadis’s, not your mom’s, not Gonin’s, yours.”

I started to pull away. “But the magic–”

“Just because the Witch was evil doesn’t mean all magic is. Aslan uses magic, and he’s not evil.”

“But Peter, what if I am?” My breathing grew strained under the weight of my true fear. “What if these memories are revealing that I truly am not good enough for you?”

“You are good enough for me,” Peter said fiercely. “You could never be evil, and the more we trade, the more you’ll realize that, you just have to have faith.”

“Faith,” I said hopelessly. “Faith in what?”

“In you, in me, in Narnia, in Aslan, in whatever it takes.” 

“I hurt the prince from Calormen. What if a war arises between Calormen and Narnia because of me, because I couldn’t keep the magic contained, because I couldn’t–”

Peter shook his head. “You protected yourself from injustice, there’s nothing I’d rather you do.”

“You have too much faith in me–”

“Let me prove it to you,” Peter interrupted. And before I realized what he meant, he leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. 

-

I stood in the courtyard of creatures turned to stone, surrounded by the hags, ogres, minotaurs, dwarves, wolves, and other creatures that made up Jadis’s people.

And in the center stood a man twice my size on his knees, gasping for breath. “Spare me!” the man cried, a river of tears and snot on his face. “Spare me!”

I looked around to see whom he was addressing, but I didn’t see the Witch anywhere. Who was he begging? 

Jeers arose from the creatures around me, howling and throwing insults.

“You know your orders,” said a voice from beside me, and I turned to see the white wolf standing there, looking at me. “Carry them out.”

I felt my mouth curl into a smile with enough ice to rival the Witch. “With pleasure.”

I lifted my hand, feeling the same vibrating power in my fingertips. 

“No!” the man cried. “I have useful information! I’ll tell you everything I know!” But it was too late.

I laughed, the sound high and heartless. “Her majesty has no interest in information.” And with that, my fingers flexed, and the man’s head separated from his body.

-

Peter lurched away from me, and I collapsed onto the floor, my hands shaking. The man’s final moments played over and over, the inescapable images of the man’s head coming clean of the rest of him branded into my mind. 

“Y/N,” Peter gasped. “What have you done?”

********

Part 14 

Reblog/leave a comment about your favorite part to give me motivation to finish the next part soon!

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@thelastpyle

Bruises tag list:

@itsnottilly @sadgirlnumber92899 @sunny-theartist @fortheloveofaqueenfan @emala @leafsmindpalace​ @thepolywrites @janesofia7 @sunshine-and-riverwater @valiantlytransparentwhispers

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@the-internet-ruined-me​​

[mac-kd8]

                                                 Law x pregnant readers

Waking up, (Name) only felt tired as if she hadn't slept in months.  She  just blamed it from the late nights of working and nothing else. Not even realizing when she woke up it was already in the afternoon and the Heart Pirates were currently eating in the galley.

With a loud groan (Name) took off her Pj's and walked into the shower, she gasped slightly when the water presser felt a little more sensitive on her chest than usual.

(Name) shrugged it off, thinking it was because she was still healing from the last battle she took part of, so she didn't think much about it. Propping herself next to her captain like she always does, she quietly ate her late lunch while trying to keep her eyes open. Law being the observant man he is, grew quite worried about his beloved wife acting so fatigue. "Are you alright?" Law asked, trying to act he wasn't concerned. She only nodded before face-planting into her food with a loud smack. No one panicked or thought it was something to worry about, guessing (Name) was just having a narcoleptic attack.

Later that day, (Name) was currently laying on her bed while reading a book. Feeling like she was about to throw up, she put down her book next to her and quickly opened the bathroom door. She then puke out all of her lunch and maybe last night dinner as well into the toilet. Wipeing her mouth, (Name) then headed toward the sink to splash some cold water on her face.

Feeling a familiar presence, (Name) then turned her head to where Law was currently standing with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess it's just a little food poisoning." (Name) said while scratching the back of her head.

"Alright but let me know when it gets worse."Law stated as he exited the bathroom.

(Name's) heart almost escaped from her chest when the submarine started shaking and yellow lights started flashing. Running onto the deck she could already see a battle taking place with men in white and blue uniforms on one side and men in colorful hats and white overalls on the other side. Unsheathing her twin katanas, (Name) then started cutting one marine after another but for some strange reason she already felt like she was out of energy. 20 minutes into the battle, with a large pant for air she finishes off the last of the marines before wobbling back to the submarine's doors.

"Damn why am I already out of breath, those marines were just small fries. My training methods haven't changed one bit, why do I feel so weak. "(Name) muttered to herself in annoyance.

(Name) only pushed her food around on the plate, hardly nibbling then she looked around the room. Everyone was so cheerful and she couldn't help but smile.

"Not eating much I see." Law commented, leaning over to whisper in her ear. Not like he needs to, over the usually loud noise that the Heart Pirates made at each meal.

"I'm just not hungry." She responded.

"Strange and I thought for someone who was out of breath just by fighting a few marines would be starving." Law stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Is it not to your liking, (Name)?" The head chef asked, catching sight of Law's actions.

"It's good. I'm just not hungry right now"(Name) said as she pushed back the plate.

"I'll put it in the fridge until you feel like eating again,"The chef said as he scooped up her plate of uneaten food.

"Do you need to lie down again?" Law asked her again for the third time today.

"I'm okay."

"Could I get some orange juice though?"(Name) sweetly asked the cook.

Then immediately , the crew got back to their usual antics paying no mind to (Name's) odd behavior.

She got to her feet while squeezing Law's shoulder gently. "I'm going to read a book." She said before taking a sip of the juice.

She was hoping that it was simply a case of stomach flu and not something alot more serious.

(Name) was once again in the bathroom and vomiting all of what she ate yesterday, which was not that much. (Name) felt terrible , as would anyone in these types of situations would, however, she still didn't want to bring the matter up. Luckily, Law hasn't woken up from his deep slumber , which made her sigh in relief. Slipping back into bed, she then let her eyelids close as she slept all the way through the afternoon again.

Then that cycle of having no appetite and vomiting lasted for this day as well, which made Law start to worry even more about his wife.

"(Name)!" She picked up her head by the ship's railing in surprise as she heard her name being called by Penguin. Her stomach hadn't seemed to settle, and now she is throwing up into the sea.

She then turned her head to the mechanic, trying her best not to look sick.

Penguin walked up to (Name) getting rather closer, causing (Name) to become nervous.

"You look pale." Penguin commented.

"I haven't been feeling well the last few days Penguin. So I'm probably a bit pale." (Name) stated .

"You're sick (Name)?" questioned Shachi. (Name) nodded her head, however quickly realized what she had brought up.

"I'm only slightly sick, just a little headache. Really."

"You sure (Name)?" Law asked as he walked up to the swordswoman, worried about her health.

She then gave a reassuring thumbs up to everyone to show that she was okay. Though internally, she was kicking herself for lying to the crew, even more so to her trusting and loving husband. The crew soon believed the lie as they continued with their day, however, Penguin, Shachi, and Law didn't seem to be convinced, so they kept an eye on her.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it." (Name) thought as she ran to the bathroom for the third time this week. She still was getting lucky with Law having once again already left their room or sleeping, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before they really began to be suspicious.

"This will pass. This will pass."(Name) kept telling herself furiously as she finished with her recent vomiting episode. She picked herself up, taking in deep breaths trying to settle her stomach. As she looked into the mirror, she noticed that she is even paler than yesterday.

Putting on a brave face, she then walked out of the bathroom and went onto the deck.

"Land ahoy!" Shachi shouted as he pointed at the piece of land.

All of the Heart Pirates gather around the railing in a disorderly long line, and lean over it, while watching the island they were about to dock. They had docked at a unique island well-known in the areas as vicious wild blood thirsty animals live there.

"Yahoo, a new adventure!" (Name) said happily before walking off the submarine's plank. As she got closer and closer onto the island, she felt someone grabbing her shoulder.

"I think it's for the best if you stay back in your current state."Law stated with a worried look on his face.

She only shrugged his hand off. "I'm fine, I feel a lot better today."

Before Law could protest, (Name) had already made her way onto the island.

And then she left, not running, but walking kinda in a slow pace into the forests.

After some time had passed, both Penguin and Shachi had returned after a troublesome adventure with some saber-tooth monkeys. Law was starting to get a little worry since (Name) wasn't back yet, so he went the same direction she walked in.

As Law walked deeper and deeper into the forest he finally made eye contact with the swordswoman. "Help!" (Name) called out as she was kneeling onto the tall grass while clenching her slightly bleeding shoulder.

Law was surprised, (Name) never called for help unless it's something really serious or life-threatening .

Activating his Room he switches places with (Name) while killing the beast in the process.

While Law was carrying (Name) through the forest, she leaned away from his chest so she wouldn't get vomit onto his clothes

-x-

"I'm going to take a blood sample." (Name) nodded as she rolled up her sleeve allowing Law to apply the alcohol onto her skin then inserting the needle. Only taking a tiny amount, Law removed the needle and quickly placed a band-aid on where he poke her. "You can leave, I will give you your results as soon as possible."

She only nodded before leaving the infirmary room.

Law stood there from where he was sitting in shock, not knowing how to feel after reviewing the results of her blood test. It was a mix of happiness, relief, fear and mostly parental love. It took all of his strength not to jump down like a crazy man who just won the lottery, because it was the middle of the night and he didn't want to wake up his crew. When he finally made it to the doors of his room, he put on a calm face and slowly and quietly opened the door. "Hi Captain, so did my blood test turn out good?" (Name) asked casually.

"Yep, it seems that both of you are fine." Law said with a big goofy smile on his usually calm and serious face. (Name) looked at her captain in surprise and in slight confusion, even already knowing the answer. "W-what do you mean the b-both of us?" (Name) managed to stutter out.

"I mean our baby. You're 9 weeks pregnant."

He was in love with (Name), and the idea of her having his baby was ideal to him, but it was still a shock, they'd never even spoken or brought up the subject. He wanted a family, but the idea still scares him. All the memories of his mother and father, and his little sister Lami all stuck to him. Then, the struggles and problems of them being famous pirates with both of them having large bounties on their heads. And all of the struggles that their child will face as well, everything he, (Name) and his unborn child, everything they will face together suddenly hit him in one go.

"Law I'm sorry, I should have been more careful." (Name) said while sobbing.

Law quickly, but carefully picks her up and sits her onto his lap while stroking the spot where their child was growing.

"Sorry for what? Making this the happiest day of my life." Law said before kissing her still flat stomach.

(Name) began to cry more but it wasn't tears of sadness, they were tears of joy. "We're going to be parents. I'm going to be a mom."

"And I'm going to be a dad. " Law said while showering her with even more kisses. (Name) squeaked when Law gently swooped her off her feet and began sprinting across the metal halls.

"What the... Law?!"

"Your shoulder, your shoulder was wounded. You're staying overnight, no, 3 nights in the infirmary. What if the baby got hurt. What if the baby got killed?"Law started listing off the things that could happen to their unborn child.

-x-

"Everyone, we have an announcement!" Law shouted loudly to get everyone's attention who was on the deck.

"We're getting a new crew member." (Name) said while trying to hold back her giggles.

"Oh, that's nice, when can we meet them?" Penguin asked.

"Less than 9 months." Law answered which made everyone go completely silent.

"We're having a baby!" Both (Name) and Law shouted cheerfully.

They were all staring at the expected couple, completely dumbfounded.

Astounded, flabbergasted, shock whichever word to describe their expressions and the tense atmosphere. Law's hand started to turn purple just by how hard (Name) was squeezing his hand.

"CONGRATULATIONS," Penguin and Shachi shouted in perfect unison.

"This is amazing, this calls for a party!" A Heart Pirate exclaimed.

"No alcohol for the pregnant woman though," Bepo smiled warmly at her from Law's side.

"(Name), don't cry, " Law said, reaching around her shoulders to comfort her.

"I know, it has to be the unbalanced hormones. I'm just so happy, this is a new chapter of my life." (Name) said as she cried into Law's chest.

Throughout the day everyone was partying while congratulating the new parents-to-be.

"So who will be the godparents?" Bepo asked.

"We have already decided that Ikkaku and you will be the godparents of our child."(Name) answered. Bepo then lifted both (Name) and Law off their feet and gave them a big hug while crying tears of joy. "Thank you, I'll be the best godfather ever." Bepo said, which made everyone in the Heart Pirates stare in jealousy, especially Penguin and Shachi.

"You guys will make great uncles." (Name)said with a big smile while hugging both of them in her arms.

"Lucky bear." Shachi muttered.

The 2 mechanics' faces turned a deep shade of red when (Name) kissed both of them on the cheek. "Don't worry, there is enough love to go around."

Then out of nowhere, a large explosion could be heard across the deck.

"Heart Pirates, Give up now or prepare to die."A marine holding a megaphone demanded.

(Name) smirked before unsheathing her twin katanas as she got into a fighting stance.

"Do your worst.''She retorted before Law used his devil fruit ability to transport her back into the sub.

Law shut the metal doors, ignoring the loud banging noises that were coming from the other side.

"Law, you ass, I want to fight too. Let me out, let me out." (Name) demanded as she kept on banging her fist onto the metal door.

"No, as your captain and doctor I order you to stay back and let us handle this. You're pregnant, you need to take it easy for now on."Law stated, which made (Name) slump down in disappointment. She hated being useless, she wanted to fight, she wanted to help, she wanted to do something besides laying down and doing nothing.

"Oh great, 7 more months of being totally useless." (Name) muttered under her breath while sighing.

A few weeks later-

(Name) felt like she was already going crazy. She wasn't allowed to do anything and she meant she couldn't do anything. First, the large weights she and Jean Bart can usually lift with ease have been replaced with 5 pound weights and she wasn't even allowed to use them for more than 5 minutes. Law had also forbidden( name) in certain places in the submarine as well, which was almost one half of the metal vessel that was off limits for her.

(Name) also swears, Law has super hearing because when she decides to get out of her bed, Law uses his devil fruit abilities to teleport himself right next to his wife's side.

"Law, go back to work. I'm just getting a snack."(Name) protested.

"Then ask me or someone else from the crew to get it for you. You're still in your first trimester of pregnancy, there is still a possible chance of miscarriages or physical deformities or all sources of possible medical stated as he called forth his room again then instantly a jar of peanuts appeared in his hand.

"Here, take these and go back to our room." Was all Law said as he pointed the direction of where their room was located, as if she was completely clueless of where she had been living for most of her life.

Rolling eyes (Name) went back to her room while munching down on the jar of peanuts on the way.

-x-

When the Heart Pirates docked onto an island, (Name) thought she could get some alone time to herself while getting the necessary items for the future stages of her pregnancy. And it was a good thing too since her pants and shirt had been feeling tight lately. "Bye Captain, I'm going to do a little shopping." (Name) said before she jumped off the submarine's front deck.

"Room, Shambles." Law now had (Name) in his arms.

"What the hell Law?" (Name) questioned.

"I'm coming with you, " Law stated as he tightly held her hand.

"Law, I'll be just fine. It's just a little shopping, I'm barely showing." (Name) retorted while trying to slip her hand from Law's strong grip.

"Nope, as long as you're carrying my child you're stuck with me." Law said, securitly wrapping around his arm onto her waist.

After 5 medical and clothes stores later, Law's arms were both covered in shopping bags while (Name) just carried a single bag with a small bottle of medicine inside of it.

"Law, let me carry that for you. You know I can lift 1000 times my own body weight." (Name) Stated with an annoyed frown.

"I got this, I don't want you to lift even one eight of your body weight. Your-" (Name) then cut off Law before he could finish the rest of this statement. "Yeah, Yeah, I know I'm pregnant and pregnant women shouldn't be exerting themselves."

Smirking devilishly, (Name) came up with a small plan to get away from her overbearing husband.

"Hey honey, I really need to use the bathroom."(Name) said as she pretended her bladder was about to burst.

"Very well."He responded, then they headed to the closest bathroom.

Reaching down in her left sock, (Name) grabbed a screwdriver and began unscrewing the bathroom's top window.

When (Name) was finally outside of the building, she began to grin like she has been in prison for 20 years and just now escaped. She was free, she could do whatever she wanted without worrying about Law dragging her back to their room and making her stay there until the next day.

In a swift motion, (Name) unsheathed her twin katanas and blocked an attack from a familiar mask man.

"Yo... it's been a while, when was the last time we fought together."(Name)greeted, enjoying the weight and feel of her swords when fighting. "Too long and this time I will become victorious." Killer responded.

Killer and (name) have been rivals ever since their crew had first met. The 2 of them will always break into fights everytime when they see one another. But so far they're about even, most of the time their fights usually ended up in draws.

The fight soon stopped when Killer stepped away and put back his scythe blades into its case. "Hey what gives, why are you chickening out now! The fight was just about to get better." (Name) shouted.

"I'm not fighting a pregnant woman, I want to kick your ass at your best."Killer stated while pointing to her slightly rounded stomach. "Damn, I knew I should have put on more baggy clothing."(Name) thought to herself as she tried to cover her baby bump.

"You're a pirate, why should you even care? Pirates do whatever they want."(Name) exclaimed while pouting slightly.

"I may be a pirate but I'm still a man who doesn't like fighting weak women." Was all he said before walking away.

"I'm not weak...fight me, please! Law won't even let me hold a fork. Please, I'm only on my 16 week."(Name)whined as she tugged onto Killer's shirt.

"No, and you look alot more further along than that."Killer retorted which made (Name) gasp loudly of being called fat.

Before Killer had any time to dodge, (Name) kicked him square in the balls which made him groan in pain.

"Meanie!" (Name) spat out before taking off into the forest nearby with small tears running down her face.

"Ouch!"He groaned loudly, laying on the ground while holding his sore nuts.

-x-

Law was pissed. But mostly Law was extremely worried. He couldn't find his wife anywhere, but what really worries him is that the Kid Pirate's ship has been spotted as well.

What if the Kid Pirates took advantage of his wife's current state or even worse killed her on the spot.

No matter how much observation Haki Law uses, he didn't have any lead on where his wife is.

"Captain, we know where she is." Penguin reported.

"Yeah, Killer from the Kid Pirates told us she kicked him in the nuts and went into the forest,"Shachi added.

"And why did she kick him in the nuts, (Name) doesn't usually use low blows?"Law stated with a raised eyebrow.

"Well,"Penguin started off while scratching the back of his head.

"He kinda called her fat." Shachi answered.

In a blink of an eye, Law called forth his room and teleported himself into the forest. Without even trying, Law hears small whimpers coming from the top of a tree so he looks up and sees the person he was looking for all day.

"(Name!)Law called out his wife's name.

"Go away!" She screamed then resumed crying again.

"No, I know I've been a little too clingy lately, but it's only because I want the best for you and our future kid as well. And to be fair, I don't really blame you for running away from me, so that is why I promise you I will try my best to give you your space."Law promised as he kneeled down.

(Name) stopped crying and looked at her husband.

"Okay, I'm coming down now."(Name) responded as she started climbing down onto one branch after another.

She gasps when one branch snaps from her weight and she begins to fall, face first into a painfull fall, and Law swears his heart stops for 5 seconds as his throat hitchs.

"Room, shambles!"

When his wife's stomach was only inches away from hitting the hard ground, she instantly appeared in Law's arms.

"Law, I'm sorr-"(Name) whispered her husband's name.

"That was way too close." He then looked and touched her baby bump gently.

"You're never ever leaving my sight until that baby is out of you. That's an order." Was all he said as he started walking back to the sub with his wife in his arms.

-x-

(Name) found herself laying flat on her back in the medical bay as Law prepared the new ultrasound equipment.

"Damn, that's cold." She hissed when the clear gel made contact with her stomach.

"Sorry," he apologised half-heartedly.

"Usually I would just use my scanning ability, but I think it would be a lot more useful to check in like this."Law stated then he turned on the monitor. He moved the device around her stomach slowly with his eyes on the screen, instantly stopped when he saw a gray blob in the middle.

"There's our child."He pointed to the blob.

As (Name) looked closer at the screen, she cock an eyebrow when another blob had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Honey, why are there 2 of them?"(Name) stated while pointing where the 2 blobs were located.

"You're just seeing things, there is no-"Law stopped himself when indeed there were more than 1 blob. "We're having twins."Law whispered so softly that (Name) had to ask him to repeat himself.

"We're having twins. Yes,! Now you don't have to get pregnant again."Law said again as his wife just stood there in shock, not knowing how to process the new information.

"Wait, you're not satisfied with one kid." (Name) yelled at her husband in which he only nodded.

"Great. I already get smothered enough with one baby, I'm sure it's gonna get worse."

"It's now double," his lips formed into a smirk. "For now you're going to have daily instead of weekly check ups. And you're no longer allowed to practice swordsmanship with real swords anymore."

"Excuse me? No way, I've been holding swords since I was only 5 years old, you can't do that." She sat up sharply.

"You lost all of your rights when you started carrying precious cargo. Now you must be twice careful with our little ones." He brushed his fingers against her stomach before kissing it gently.

The more (Name-s) belly got bigger and bigger, the more cautious everyone, especially Law became. In only her 30 weeks of pregnancy, (Name) already looks like she could give birth any day now.

The Heart Pirates were currently docked on a winter island while (Name) only watched from a sideline.

"But Law, I want to play in the snow like everyone else. Please, I've been cooped up in this submarine for far too long."(Name) begged while giving Law the puppy eye look.

"Fine, but you need to bundle up."Law exclaimed.

6 layers of thick clothing later, (Name) walked off the Polar tang's deck with Law right next to her side.

Working on her snow fort for about 30 minutes, (Name) started to feel a sneeze coming along and tried her best to hold it in.

"Achoo!" She then covered her mouth, in hopes Law didn't hear it.

She sighs and doesn't even put up a fight when Law's room incases her, and teleports her into his arms.

"You're going back to the sub, I knew it was a bad idea to let you play in the snow."Law stated flatly.

And once again (Name) was laying flat on her back as she watched Law move the ultrasound equipment around her stomach for the fourth time this week.

"Is this really necessary?"(Name) questioned while pouting.

"Yes, unless you don't want our babies to be healthy. You're now forbidden to leave our bed until your cold has subsided. If you break any of those rules then I will bind you to the bed until your pregnancy has ended. Do I make myself clear?" Law questioned which only made (name) stick out her tongue.

"You 2 need to get out of mommy soon because I can't take another minute with your daddy."(Name) talk and rub to her rounded stomach when Law left the room.

-x-

2 weeks later and (Name) Was finally on her last trimester of pregnancy. "Law!" (Name) shouted his name loudly.

"Yes my darling, is there something you need." Law responded as he headed toward where his wife was currently sitting down.

"The babies are kicking, they're kicking again."(Name) said excitedly then grab's Law's hand to guide him where the kicking was happening.

Then the day when his children would be born.

(Name) woke up in the middle of the night when she felt a warm wet substance in between her legs and soon realized her water just broke.

"Law...Law." She shakes her husband awake.

"Yeah, what is it?" He muttered as he tried to rub away the sleep from his eyes.

"My water just broke."She then yelled in agony after she felt a contraction.

"Shit?!" Law then quickly moves to her side to help her into the wheelchair he had laying by for this day. "Bepo, round up the medical squad, it's time." Law shouted through a den den mushi.

"Whatt, I thought she wasn't due for at least another couple weeks." Bepo shouted.

"Well, the kids have decided to come now!" Law stated.

12 hours of shouting and a lot of pushing later, the first one came out.

"She's a beautiful girl!" Law said before handing the bundle of joy to Bepo.

"Come on just one more push." Law said then he could see the head of the baby.

"It's a handsome boy," Law said before handing the other baby to Penguin's arms.

"Law, what should we name them?"(Name) asked as she panted for air.

"Rosey for our baby girl and Corazon for our baby boy." Law answered, then placed a sweet and tender kiss on his wife's forehead.

"You need rest now, I will take care of them in the meantime."

[thetaleoflevi]

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Sincerely Not Yours

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Pairing: Levi x Reader

Content: SFW, Modern AU, Angst

Content Warnings: Established relationship (reader and s/o), pining Levi, unrequited love, explicit language, non-consensual kiss, overall just Levi being in love with reader while reader is in love with someone else

Word Count: 3.3k

Description: Levi can’t have you and he knows it, but is it a bad thing for him to love you anyway? Absolutely. But he still loves you from a distance.

A/N: This is the first piece of my writing that i’ve liked in a while. It’s leans more on the angsty-er side, but eh. Hope you enjoy!

Hey do you want anything to eat? I’ll be home in like half an hour, but we’re at a restaurant and I know you’ve been home all day. You must be starving :(

Fuck you and your caring personality. Levi is home alone because he’d rather be alone than be with someone who isn’t you. He’d never admit to himself that he craves a relationship where you care for him as much as he cares for you. He wants you to want to be around him all the time, but who is he to tell you how he feels when you’re in love with someone else?

No, i’m okay. I had a heavy lunch earlier and i’m still full. Thank you, though.

His phone clicks off and he sets it down on his stomach. He didn’t expect something like this to happen. To be honest, he found you annoying when you first moved in. You were so optimistic, and the contrast to his way of being didn’t sit well with him.

But as months turned to years of sharing a home, he grew accustomed to your warmth. Selfishly, it made him feel safe knowing that you would have dinner made when he got home from work. Knowing that you would be there to listen to him go on about how lazy and worthless his co-workers are. It made him want to stay up with you all night, until eventually one night you did. You talked about your deepest secrets—things you’ve never told your own mother, and things he’s never said out loud. You helped each other breathe, and because of that, he became addicted to the euphoric feeling you cause within him.

Okay. Be home soon :)

He sighs, rolling onto his side, groaning in frustration.

“Fuck off.” He mumbles, sliding his phone across the coffee table with the perfect amount of force so that it doesn’t fall. He hears the buzz of the phone again, and your name pops up on the screen. He doesn’t reach for it, though. Instead, he curls into fetal position and stares at the wall until he falls asleep.

—

Your keys rattle as you turn the doorknob to the front door.

“Honey, i’m home!” You say, chuckling immediately at your terrible entrance. There’s no response so you walk further into your house, to the living room where you see Levi sleeping peacefully. It’s a rare sight. It’s heartwarming to see that he was relaxed enough to sleep for once. You immediately tone down the energy, and quiet your footsteps as you get closer to his dormant figure. You grab the comforter that lays on the armrest of the couch and drape it over him, before gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You watch him for one more minute before heading to the bathroom to dress down.

You get dressed into some baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt you didn’t know you had, before removing the light amount of make up you applied for your date. You smile fondly at the memories you made that night. You shared ice cream with your significant other for the first time, you held hands across the table while you ate dinner, you kissed in the car while the radio played quietly in the background. It was all so lovely.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden movement of someone else in the mirror.

“Nice shirt.” Levi says, sleep gently encompassing his voice.

“It must’ve gotten mixed in with my laundry. Let me go get another shirt.” You turn towards the doorway.

“Keep it. It looks good on you.” He leans on the doorframe slightly.

“Thanks, Levi.” Warmth spreads on your cheeks when you smile.

“How was your date?” He asks.

“It was amazing. There’s so much I have to tell you about, but I think i’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m exhausted and you look… great!” You dab at your wet face with a washcloth.

Levi laughs through his nose, rubbing the short amount of sleep away from his eyes.

“You didn’t get my last text, did you?” You ask, folding the washcloth neatly and hanging it on the towel holder.

“Shit, I fell asleep before I could see it. Was it important?” He goes back into the living room to fetch his phone from the coffee table.

Do you wanna go for a drive later tonight? We can park on a hill and look at the stars or something like that.

He shuts his eyes, mentally cursing himself for being ignorant.

“It wasn’t too important. Don’t worry about it. We can go some other time. You need rest, my friend.”

Levi had already made up his mind. You wanted to see the stars, you’re gonna see the damn stars.

He puts on a jacket and sits down to get his shoes on.

“Get a sweater on. It’s windy tonight.” He finishes tying his right shoe and stands up, heading into the kitchen to grab his car keys.

“Are you sure, Levi? It’s not a priority. I just wanted to spend some time with you today. We can stay in and watch a movie instead, if you want,” you slip your arms into a jacket while you talk, just incase you can’t convince him to stay.

“Let’s go. I need to get out of the house.” He starts walking towards the front door, turning for a second to see if you’re following. Thankfully, you are, and with an adorable smile on your face.

—

It was dead silent for some parts of the drive, but it wasn’t awkward, thankfully. Levi has a favorite radio station, and every time you’ve entered his car, there’s an old song playing. You asked him once if there was a reason for only listening to music from a time before him and he gave you an explanation that made you never question him again.

What’s so great about the old man singing this song?

Aren’t you listening to the lyrics? He’s singing from the depths of his soul, not from his ass. A lot of artists today have different things on their mind—sex, drugs, money— it’s not heartfelt anymore. What I like most about songs like this one is that they’re able to be deconstructed. You can see right into the singers mind if you just listen.

I see. Turn it up, yeah?

“We’re here. Do you want to watch from in here or do you want to lay on the hood?” He puts the car in park, and turns it off.

“Laying on the hood would give us an even better view. Come on.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, opening the door to exit the vehicle.

Levi does the same, shutting the door once he exits. You slowly walk to the front of his car, carefully hopping on the hood and getting in a comfortable laid back position, putting your hands beneath your head.

“Hurry up, Levi. You’re missing it.” You say playfully, turning your head to see him go through the same process as you to get on the hood.

“What did I miss?” He asks, going along with the joke.

“Nothing at all.” You stare up, immediately searching for figures in the puddles of stars.

It goes quiet, and Levi’s nervousness triples.

“Say, Levi, why aren’t you in love with anyone?”

What a heavy question. How is he supposed to answer that without accidentally revealing his feelings for you? Of course he could always lie, but what does that say about how much you mean to him? That you’re not important enough to know the truth? Hell no.

“I guess nobody has a type that involves my traits.” He shrugs, letting his eyes wander across the crowded sky.

“Don’t say that! You’re so handsome, Levi. And…and you’re really good at cooking, and you’re caring and thoughtful. Fuck, there’s so much goodness bottled up within you, and I can’t wait to meet the person fortunate enough to spend the rest of their life with you.” You turn to face him, giving him your kindest smile. “That person will know exactly the way love should be.”

Levi suddenly felt so angry that he could cry. Angry that he wasn’t within reach when you were looking for someone to devote your time and love towards. Angry that you had such a good time with your lover while he stayed home and only thought about you. Angry that he pretends you love him behind your back. Angry, just furious.

“Yeah, I look forward to that day, too,” He can’t look at you.

“Tell me about your date.”

You return your gaze to the sky overflowing with glowing specks.

“It was amazing. I’ll throw in the word perfect, to be specific,” you chuckle. “There were so many things that I got to experience for the first time. Don’t make fun of me, but I had my first kiss today.” You turn your head to see if he’s laughing at you, but to your surprise, his demeanor didn’t change.

“It was lovely. I also shared food and held hands with them. Both things were first times as well. Sharing food isn’t out of the normal for me, you should know, so it wasn’t weird when we shared an ice cream sundae.” You let out a happy sigh, turning to Levi when he didn’t say anything.

How could he say anything when pure envy is pumping through his veins? Those experiences should have been reserved for him. He knew you first and he knows you like the back of his hand, and yet sent you on that date like an idiot.

“Hey, are you okay? We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to. I just wanted to keep you in the loop, ‘cause you’re my best friend and I want to share things with you.” You turn to look at him again. He has a neutral look on his face, and you try not to assume what it means to avoid hurting your own feelings.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s cracking.

He can’t take it anymore.

Levi is usually so good at keeping things bottled up, but he was never good at keeping his feelings in. It sounds crude when he does verbalize what he feels, which is why most people don’t understand that that is him bring out his emotional side, but he needs to be accurate with the way his words sound to you in this moment.

“Don’t worry, Levi. Nothing you do could ever end the strong friendship we have. Nothing.”

Your reassurance does nothing to alleviate the rapid thumps in his chest.

“Are you happy?” The first sentence of a conversation long overdue.

“I haven’t found a reason not to be, so… yeah. I’m pretty happy.” You sit up and cross your legs, facing Levi’s direction. He stays down. “I’m having difficulty finding that same level of happiness for myself,” he pauses, like talking about himself for a second takes a lot out of him mentally.

“Tell me what I can do. Please. I need my Levi to be at his best as much as possible.” You smile, gently bumping his chest with your fist.

You can’t say ‘my’ Levi. You just can’t.

“Nothing. I won’t burden you with something that’s not on you.”

“Levi, please.” You try.

He stays quiet, ignoring your calls of his name.

“Levi.”

Silence.

“Levi Ackerman.” Your voice keeps its gentleness, but hearing his full name is something that has always gotten his attention, so you do it when he’s upset with you, or when he doesn’t hear you while he’s working in his home office.

“There’s someone I feel a million emotions for and I can’t have her.”

Your expression immediately changes to a pitiful one.

“Is she in a relationship with someone or is it long distance? What’s stopping you?”

“She’s happy with someone else.” He removes his hands from beneath his head, using them to aid him as he sits up.

“There’s someone out there for everyone. Maybe this is the universe telling you that she isn’t the one.”

You’re talking nonsensically, according to Levi.

“Fuck the universe. She’s not someone I can just drop like my feelings never existed in the first place.” He’s never sounded more pathetic in his life, fighting to defend his reason for loving someone so much that he would base his happiness solely on being with them.

“Well… all I can say is I hope things work out for you and this woman one day. I’m saying that with the most amount of respect for the relationship she’s currently in, too.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward slightly, but he stops before you question him.

“Whoo, it’s freezing. Are you ready to head home?” You hug yourself, sliding your hands up and down your arms.

“Yeah, we can go home. Watch your step on the way down.” His feet land on the ground, and he rushes over to help you get down. You take the hand he extends and carefully slide off the car.

You both enter the car, but Levi doesn’t turn it on. It’s as if he’s expecting you to say something, so you do. Or you try to.

“Thanks for bringing-“

Your heart immediately stops when your lips lock with another pair. You don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t let it continue like it’s okay.

You pull away, looking at Levi with a wide-eyed expression. He just blinks, and the deafening silence takes over.

How do you stop something like this from happening again without ending the friendship you hold so dearly in your heart? You don’t. At least you don’t.

“Wow. Um, that really came out of nowhere.”

“No, it didn��t. I’ve wanted to do that all night, and every day for the past five years.”

You shut your eyes. Maybe this is just a crazy dream. This can’t really be happening. The real Levi wouldn’t do something like this, let alone talk about his feelings that romantically.

“Think, think, think.” You mutter to yourself while you continue to process what just happened.

“Okay, uh… I’ll forget this ever happened, and we can move on and continue to be friends like we’ve always been. Cool? Great.”

“But, I don’t want you to forget it. Don’t you see what’s going on? Are you not putting two and two together? It’s you, Y/N. It’s been you the entire time.”

You rub your temple—the situation is starting to give you a headache. You can feel the anxiety rising as your heartbeat begins to quicken.

“I’m gonna walk home, clear my head a little bit. We can talk about this as soon as I get home.” You unbuckled your seatbelt and open the door, exiting quickly.

“Y/N, wait. I’m sorry-“

“It’ll be okay, Levi. We can get past this.” You shut the door and start walking.

“Get back in the car, Y/N. Please.” He calls, sticking his head out the window to ensure that you hear him.

You hear him but completely ignore his words.

“Come on.” He grumbles, turning on the car to drive home through another route that shaved off a good five minutes.

—

That extra time allowed him to create a draft of what he would say once you got home. The final draft would be him actually saying it, and improvising when things don’t go in the direction he thought they would.

You arrive home a little over twenty minutes later, and instantly feel the weight of what happened in the car. You lock the door behind you and let out a quick breath before you walk into the living room, where you know Levi will be.

“I’m home,” you say, meeting his slightly anxious gaze. You sit down on the farther end of the couch.

“How was your walk?” He asks, watching your every move closely. Your nervousness does not go unnoticed because it’s very different from how you usually are towards him.

“It was…nice. It was refreshing. It-“

“You shouldn’t have walked by yourself,” he interrupts, his tone calmer than the storm that had brewed in his head. “You could’ve been hurt, you could’ve been abducted.”

“So, we’re talking about things we shouldn’t do? Nice. I’ve got one for you, too. You shouldn’t have kissed me, knowing I’m in a relationship already.” You furrow your eyebrows slightly, anger dipping into your emotions.

“It’s not the same. You put yourself in danger, you… you…” He pauses, letting that bubble of frustration dissolve before he says something he doesn’t mean.

You huff at his hypocrisy. “Let it out, Ackerman. Tell me how you really feel.” You say, crossing your arms.

“I love you, and I can’t do shit about it. That’s how I feel.”

There’s always an unintentional coldness in Levi’s eyes, even when he’s telling you he’s in love with you. He finds it to be a blessing and a curse—no one can read him.

Your anger begins dissipating. Love is a natural thing, and Levi, the man you thought would be pickier about his type, is going through the motions of it. He can’t help what he feels in his heart, so why should you be angered?

“Okay, let’s talk about this.” You uncross your arms so that you can bring your knees to your chest and hug them instead. It’s a comfort tactic that you know will get you through this difficult conversation.

“You are aware that I am in a relationship with someone already. You made that clear earlier when we were talking about the ‘woman’ you were interested in.”

He nods. “I know you’re happy, I know you’re in love with someone else, and I’m happy for you, but at the same time, I fucking hate it.”

“I have one solution to this hell of a situation, and i’m okay with it if it’s what needs to happen.”

He’s hanging onto every word you say, relieved that this is going better than he thought it would. He thought there would be crying, yelling, storming out—but no.

“I can move out.”

No.

No.

Automatic no.

No. You can’t do that. You can’t leave the house that you turned into a home. Before you came along, Levi used to say ‘I’m going to my house’ or ‘I’m leaving’. He never called it home until you moved in and changed the environment.

“No.” He says a little too loudly. “I mean, no. It doesn’t have to go that far. I’m willing to suppress what I feel, so that we can continue to live like we have for the past five years.” He looks a little more worried.

“Are you sure, Levi? What happened earlier… it can’t happen again. You have to respect my relationship.”

“I will. Just don’t go. I don’t think I could handle being the reason you leave the home you’ve been comfortable in for years.”

“Okay, I believe you. Anyway, it’s pretty late. I think I should go to sleep.” You stand up from the couch, fixing the pillows you moved when you first sat down.

“Sleep well.” He responds, remaining seated.

You walk around the couch, putting your hand on Levi’s shoulder for a second.

“I’m glad we had this conversation. Goodnight, Levi.” You remove your hand and make your way to your bedroom.

He was too focused on the weight of your hand on his shoulder to understand what you said.

He waits a few minutes before going to his bedroom, and although there’s a wall between your room and his, he can still hear everything that goes on in your room. He can hear the way you’re smiling through your words as you talk to your lover on the phone. He hates that you’re not giggling lovingly at him, and that he has no choice but to bear it.

It’s hard to fall asleep when he can hear you mumbling tiredly on the phone at one in the morning. You answer questions with sleepy ‘mhm’’s, your eyelids becoming heavier with every passing minute.

Levi waits for that final muffled ‘I love you’ that he knows will conclude your nightly phone call to your lover, before curling up against the wall, where he knows you lay on the other side of it.

[keigosbirdie]

Plastic [Hawks x female reader] (ao3)

Words: 4k+ Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of death. Post war trauma. Hurt/comfort. Fingering in a hospital room. Hawks comes to see you after the war.  Lots o angst. Summery: You were once a pro hero, determined and tenacious. Now, the people you once fought to protect hid in their apartments in perpetual fear. And you, the broken shell of someone who was once a hero, could do nothing for them. THANK YOU to my good friend @keilemlucent​ for beta reading this ;u;

   It had been a week.

    Despite your dire condition, the only company you had since the war was the faint beep of hospital equipment. Your loved ones were either suffering in nearby rooms, or they were dead.

    You were one of the lucky ones, that's what doctors kept saying. Despite the swollen nub that used to be your leg preventing you from standing. Despite the punctured lung that made breathing feel like swallowing coal. Despite the unending, smothering guilt that ate away what little was left of your psyche.

    You were lucky.

    It was twilight out your hospital window. You watched the lights of nearby buildings flick on and off as civilians went about their evenings, but, when the sun went down, the windows went dark. The streets were hostile places now. The people you once fought to protect hid in their apartments in perpetual fear. And you, the broken shell of someone who was once a hero, could do nothing for them.

    How could you, when you were unable to even save yourself?

    You laid your head down on the plasticy cover of your hospital pillow and closed your eyes. You spent all of your days living a different life in your head. One that was safer and more familiar than the chaotic hospital you were trapped in. You reminisced, in essence. You went on late night shopping trips with Rumi in the city. You had lunch with your sidekicks, and then slipped away after dark to meet with him.

    The last time you saw him was in that video. That terrible, life-altering video.

    The hard edges of your teeth dug into your bottom lip. He was somewhere in the hospital, but the doctors wouldn't tell you where. Just like everyone else you worried for, he was in critical condition and in no shape for visitors. And you were in no shape to be leaving your bed.

    You returned to your bittersweet daydreaming until your hospital door cracked open with a slow, careful creak. The silhouette of a man stood in your doorway. He stood still, looming and unfamiliar. 

    A stranger.

    His clothes were dark, and something obscured his face. Was he a villian from the war? Was he here to finish you off for the wrongs you committed in the name of survival? You couldn't sit up to greet the stranger, let alone defend yourself. You could only whimper as he approached your bed.

    He moved your bedside trey aside—still littered with your half-eaten hospital meal—and then sat on the edge of your mattress.

    "Please," you managed, though your voice was small and pathetic. It was nothing like the voice of the glorious, outspoken hero you once were. No, you were a shriveled shadow of that person now. "If you want to kill me, make it quick."

    The man's head jerked up, and his eyes—his sharp, yellow eyes—settled onto yours. Your heart palpitated, and a sharp gasp fell out of your throat.

    "Hawks?" You questioned, squinting at him through the dim light of your bedroom. "Is it… really you?" 

    The question was warranted. His face was hidden beneath a respirator. His once flowing bangs were singed down to frayed chunks, and, most notably, his back was flat.

    This man was your most trusted confidant and your frequent lover since his hero debut, and you hadn't recognized him. The war left his body ravaged. His eyes were downcast and his posture was crumpled in a way you'd never seen. He was no longer the man you'd fallen in love with.

    But you still loved him, desperately.

    "Your wings…" you muttered.

    "I don't look like myself, I know," he said… or, didn't say. The tone was robotic and methodical, and not at all the familiar voice that once hummed you to sleep. The light of his cellphone illuminated his face, as well as the blue plastic of the respirator that covered it.

    "You don't," you agreed, but rested your palm on his thigh. The gesture was meant to reassure him, but also prove to you he was really there. You'd never been so happy to feel his warmth. "But I don't either."

    His eyes swept over your mangled form. He was surely just as disturbed seeing his lover in pieces as you were. Your broken states reiterated the new, agonizing reality you were living. 

    "Do they know when you'll get out of here?" Asked the robotic, unfamiliar voice. "We could use your help."

    We? Help? You bit your bottom lip.

    "Who's we?"

    "Jeanist and I. We've been looking into Dabi—"

    "Dabi? Isn't he the one who… hurt you? You almost died… and you're still scheming?" You pondered as your eyes fell half lidded. They felt too heavy. Everything did. 

    "There are things I have to take care of. I was hoping you'd come along."

    Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. It was a vain attempt to keep from crying.

    "So you only came because… you want to recruit me for your next suicide mission?"

    His eyes were all you could see, but there was hurt in them when you asked that. You couldn't help it. You were hurting, too, and you'd hoped just one person would come cry for you in your hospital room.

    You hoped it would be him.

    "Of course not," said the text app. There was no inflection or nuance in it, which made it even harder to believe. "I came to check on you… But things are rough out there, and we could use your help. Like old times."

    'Old times' was only a week ago, but it really felt like it had been years since you stood up. 

    "Sweetheart… I'm… I'm finished," you lamented. 

    His fingers stopped tapping at his cellphone, and he turned. His eyes were wide-rimmed and his brow raised up high. That wasn't what he expected you to say, but you retained even less of your wild tenacity than he did.

    "You? Calling it quits? That doesn't sound right," The voice he was using felt so not him that it was hard to listen to. "I thought you said you'd never give up."

    Your eyes bounced between his slumped form and the blankets in your lap. Your nails scraped against the fabric as you fidgeted. It was still a difficult reality to swallow, that a leg was missing beneath it. 

    "You don't get it," you said. "I can't anymore."

    Begrudgingly, you peeled the layers of blankets off of your body. With each one, your dire state became more evident. He flinched when the last one was pulled away. When he laid his eyes on the swollen, ugly mess left of your leg. The way he looked at your body made your stomach churn. You, too, had become unfamiliar and hard to look at.

    Your hands tentatively came up to your collar to loosen your gown. He needed to see all of it. He needed to understand this wasn't a choice you could make. 

    You pulled the gown down to your waist, exposing all the terrible, defeating wounds you suffered. His jaw tensed at the ungodly sight of your new body. There was never shame in Hawks seeing your nakedness. He had many, many times before, but it felt humiliating now. Now that your body isn't the one he loved anymore.

    Your torso was concave on one side, where ribs were painfully missing. The fluids that leaked from your wounds formed hard, yellow stains around the bandage edges. Thankfully the dressings hid the true ugliness from him, but the inhuman shape was enough to make his eyes crinkle and his brows squeeze together.

    You didn't have to see under the plastic to know he was grimacing. 

    "We were stationed at the raid, you know. Me and my agency. I watched… helplessly as my sidekicks were slaughtered. I tried to stop it, but all those years of training meant nothing in the end," you lamented, your eyes almost too heavy to keep open. "The doctors say I won't survive another fight. It's over for me."

    "That-" his app faltered as his fingers tapped erratically at his screen. He was typing, and then deleting. Typing, and then deleting.

    "That can't be true," the robotic voice said, not at all reflecting the anguish and denial Hawks felt.

    Your hand on his thigh lifted to grip weakly at the collar of his shirt.

    "It's true."

    He slumped until his body settled beside yours in your hospital bed. There wasn't much room, but he'd become so small that he fit easily against your side. He was so delicate without his wings. It shattered pieces of you that you didn't know were left to break.

    Knowing he intended to go after the man who caused that terrified you.

    Dabi's macabre video replayed on a loop in your dreams. You didn't want to face the memory of his feathers—the same feathers you once slept safely beneath—being plunged into a fleeing man's back. There were so many questions, most of which were too hard to ask.

    So you asked what felt easiest to answer.

    "About… Dabi's broadcast. Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice trembled with pain, and it sounded otherworldly as it echoed through your hospital room. "About your real name?"

    A huff came out of him. You heard the air whistle softly out the holes of his respirator. Your heart quivered to know he needed such a thing simply to breathe.

    "I didn't want you to think differently of me," his cellphone confessed for him. "I didn't want your memories of me sullied, to know where I came from. Not that that matters now, since you had to see me in that video."

    "They wouldn't have been sullied—they aren't," you assured him, and he replied with the most pathetic little laugh. His voice was rough and fragile sounding beneath the plastic fitted to his face.

    Your hand rested on his arm. You squeezed the muscle there with what weak grip you had, as if you could tear him out of that unfamiliar shell he was living in. To know he came so devastatingly close to losing it all made your heart lurch in the cage of your ribs.

    Nothing felt safe anymore.

    There were still tears left to cry. Many of them. Though you were too weak to sob, sadness bubbled from your throat and water leaked down the sides of your colorless cheeks. He used tender, gentle caresses to clean your face of your sorrow. He was different than he was before, but he was still there. His still beating heart breathed a little of its strength back into yours.

    "I loved you," you said to him. It was weak and soft like a whisper, but there was fire in it. An unwavering declaration. "That's why I never asked about your name or your history. It didn't matter, because I loved you. All those years, in and out of your bed, and I never had the courage to say so."

    "You didn't have to," he replied. "I already knew."

    You wanted to cry all over again, but you were too exhausted. Your lip just trembled as his fingers wiped away what was left of your tears.

    Even if he did feel the same all that time, he never belonged to you. There were pieces of him that may have, in some way, been yours. His groggy morning laugh. How his fingers ran smoothly through his feathers as he preened them, and the chirps he made when he basked on his balcony. Yes, there were moments that belonged to you and no one else. 

    But in the grand scheme of it all, those moments were all that were yours. He belonged to the commission who created him. He belonged to the girls in the streets who grabbed at his feathers and cried when he hugged them. To the citizens who relied on him. He belonged to his duties, his unwavering convictions, and the wide open sky. Despite the nights you'd spent in his bed, holding him and loving him and needing him, he was not yours.

    Even now, with all of those things gone, he was still owned by his convictions. To love Hawks was to accept that, no matter how crushing an agony it was to be held only on secret nights.

    But now he laid in your bed beside you. His chest rose and fell peacefully as he lingered on the edge of sleep. Those golden eyes—the only familiar part of him—were cracked slightly open as they took in the damaged sight of you.

    You had nothing else left, now, besides the heavy history that lingered between the two of you.

    And that wasn't enough.

    "Touch me…" You whispered. "Please, Hawks. Like you did when I'd stay the night at your penthouse."

    You heard a sound in his throat, though you couldn't make out what it was. Surprise maybe?

    It sounded like it hurt.

    "You mean sex?"

    You swallowed. Your face would have heated up with embarrassment if there was any blood left in it. What a ridiculous thing to ask as you both laid half-dead in a hospital room. His body was covered in burns, and his lungs were wrecked. You had a hole in your chest (not just metaphorically), and a swollen nub where your leg should have been. There were no comforts left. Even Hawks looked like a different man, but your affection for him was the same. The memories you shared were still the same.

    You needed to relive them.

    "That may be too much right now, but I want something close. I want to touch you. I want to be touched."

    "Is that a good idea?" his phone said from behind your head. It was quieter, as if he turned down the volume to better suit the delicate mood. It didn't help. "You're in bad shape. I could hurt you."

    You bit your lip to keep it from trembling anymore. 

    "If you don't want to, I understand," you replied. You pressed your nose against the cool plastic of his respirator. It made strange sounds as his breath puffed out of it and onto your face. "I just want to pretend like nothing ever happened. To feel you like I used to. For one night, I want to feel like we're still okay."

    Those eyes of his closed slowly, and he released a breath in contemplation. His hands moved to pick at the back of his face covering, but your weak grip stopped him.

    "No, you need that to breathe, don't you? Don't take it off."

    He fished around the sheets for his phone.

    "But I need to kiss you."

    Need. He said need.

    He pressed his bandaged forehead against your cheek, so that you could feel him rather than the contraption on his face. Maybe he couldn't kiss you like he used to, but you could still trail a crown of your own pecks along his forehead. Your hand, as weak and unsteady as it was, moved to brush his frayed bangs back. Then you pressed your lips into his bandages.

    "Okay," he decided.

    "Okay?"

    "I want to pretend, too. Like we're back at my place."

    Your dry lips cracked when you smiled.

    "Pretend?... We're there… right now," you managed to utter. The more you spoke the more dry your throat became, but Hawks needed the comfort of your memories just as much as you did. "We're on your bed. The sun is making patterns… across your bedsheets."

    His eyes fell closed, and his brows furrowed as he called upon the memory.

    "I can smell something from the kitchen," you recall. "Can you smell it, too?"

    "Coffee," the unfamiliar voice in his hand said. "You got up earlier to brew me coffee."

    You hummed, and then nodded as your fingers fiddled with the collar of his black button up.

    "But the coffee's gonna go cold, isn't it?"

    "Yes. You were—" his app makes a sound as he cancels the sentence. "You are kissing me. You're only wearing my shirt. It's all I can think about, how you look in it. So we don't get out of bed when the coffee maker beeps."

   "That's right, Hawks. Smell the grounds. Feel the warmth of the sun in your feathers. Touch me."

    The comforting scent of his cologne was replaced by the sterile smell of alcohol. There were no feathers caressing your side; no plush wings to climb up beneath. His lips were unreachable. His comforting voice was gone.

    But his fingers, they were still the same.

    They trailed gingerly along your collarbone and down your chest. You both kept your eyes closed. You could see him; how he was before. He wore that carefree smile on his pretty face. His long, wind-whipped bangs fell all over his forehead, and his wings fluttered when he felt you in his touch.

    You hoped he could remember how you looked then, too. Pretty, soft, and whole, as you were meant to be.

    He moved, propping himself up on an elbow as he leaned carefully over top of you. He wanted to be closer, to be smothered in you like he did that lazy morning. There was a small pop and a clatter as his phone fell off the bed and smashed into the tile floor, but he didn't so much as flinch at the sound.

    He was too enthralled with the sun in his wings, your sighs in his ear, and your breast in his hand; the small whimper that fell out of you when he squeezed.

    It hurt, just a little. He hesitated at your discomfort, unable to even ask if you're okay with his cell phone lost somewhere on the floor. But you pulled his hand back to your chest.

    "It's okay...," you whispered, and then placed a kiss against the hard edge of his respirator. "I don't want to stop."

    He nodded, and his palm took your breast again. He squeezed more gently this time before the pad of his thumb flicked your nipple. He stared at it, obviously wanting to nip and suck at the hard bud. He pinched it between his fingers to satisfy the hunger.

    Along with the arousing pleasure, there were small jabs of pain that burned your lungs when you gasped. His forehead stayed faithfully pressed against yours as his fingers timidly explored your body. His touch kept you grounded into his silky, black bed sheets.

    You smelled the coffee, felt the sun kiss your feet, and could almost taste him on your tongue.

    Lower. His hand trailed lower.

    A quiet sound spilled from his respirator when he found your inner thigh. You moved your leg closer to him to put distance between his hand and the leg that was missing. It was fine. It was still there, bathing in the warmth of his feathers. 

    His large palm gripped the soft meat of your thigh, wanting, needing, and fervent. He had a ravenous need to be safe inside of you. To seek refuge in your body, and in the heart that still beat for him despite his failings. Despite how dirty he had become. The tips of his calloused fingers drug up your leg, towards the slickened petals that hid beneath the edge of his shirt. The one you picked up off the floor that morning and wrapped yourself in.

    It was thinner and scratchier and more plasticy than he recalled, but that didn't break the consoling illusion. He caressed the petals of your sex. A whimper forced from your aching lungs, but it was of pleasure. Your lips pressed into the hard holes of his respirator. The thin, cold tubes brushed along your breasts as he nestled into the affection.

    Your pussy soaked his fingers with slick as they circled your clit.

    You missed the sound of his husky breath. His voice, trembling and excited as he murmured filthy promises into the shell of your ear. The voice was gone, but he still knew just how you liked to be touched. The tips of his thick digits pressed against the wet part in your slit. With the slow movement of his wrist, a single finger slid into your warmth. Your thighs twitched at the intimate touch, and instinctively your body clamped down on his finger.

    His eyes grew glossy as you reached up to hold him the best you could. Your hands pressed gently into his back. There were, of course, no plush feathers. Instead in their place were two soft lumps. You pressed delicately into them, but couldn’t tell if there were any remnants of his wings beneath the padding.

    You felt something else, too.

    Hawks’ body was draped over yours, and the warmth and hardness of his cock pressed into your hip. His breath was sharp as he worked a second finger into you. Pleasure bloomed from within your pussy and trickled up through your spine. The toes you had left curled into your hospital sheets, and you lost your breath when he twisted inside you.

    You slid your hand down his back, careful not to press too hard on his tender wounds. Feeling the rough bandages beneath his shirt brought tears to your eyes. Still, your palm trailed along his hip, and then to his thighs. He jerked when he felt your palm press into the crotch of his pants, but settled easily into your gentle squeezing. 

    You heard his breath grow more ragged, and his hand stalled between your thighs as he tried to catch his breath. Your hand went still, too, as you waited for his breathing to steady. When it did, your fingers slipped into the front of his bottoms. The most intimate, private part of him was against your palm. A small whimper worked out of him when you pressed up into it, cupping the shape and exploring with the tips of your fingers.

    As thanks, he quickened the pace of his jerking fingers. He found it, the perfect spot, and your quiet whimpers cracked into labored breathing as he pressed inside over and over and OVER.

    Something mumbled from behind his respirator. What he said was lost in the plastic, but you felt the vibration against your cheek and the low tones of his voice. He said it again, and, this time, you could make out the wavering syllables.

    "Good girl," he praised as he slid the ball of his palm over your clit. Electricity pooled through your core and into the rest of you as you struggled to catch your breath.

    You subdued your sounds to keep nearby nurses from hearing you, but a cocktail of ecstasy and agony washed over your aching body as it tensed without permission. The euphoric high numbed the pain for a moment, but as you caught your breath the aching of your bones and the throbbing of your wounds overtook your senses.

    He pulled out of you, his fingers slathered in your sweet slick. Usually he'd be licking them clean of your mess, but not tonight. He only held his hand awkwardly away as he allowed you to tug at his clothes. He was already as close as he could be without hurting you, but you seemed to want him closer still. 

    "You didn't get to come," you lamented. Your eyes were still closed as you tried to cling a little longer to the memory you were living in. You felt him shake his head. Surely he wanted to gush over in your soft hands, but the hitch in your damaged lungs scared him.

    You heard the click of a clasp coming undone, so you finally opened your eyes. His sun-filled bedroom was again replaced with the cold darkness of the hospital. The fragrance of coffee beans melded back into something sterile, and the softness of his feathers caressing your sides was replaced with nothing at all.

    His respirator was off and laying in the valley between your bodies. He looked… rough beneath it. His face was littered with scratches and burns, and you could only imagine the wounds hiding beneath his bandages. But you could finally see him for what he'd become.

    The fingering overworked your already frail muscles. You didn't have the strength to reach up and touch him, but he leaned down to press his lips against yours. They were just as dry and stiff as your own, but you bathed in the joy of the careful contact.

    "I'm sorry," he said. He really said. The voice was broken and hoarse, but he still sounded like himself despite it. Why was it that Hawks was the only loyal constant in your life, yet he was always apologizing? "I promise... I'll make sure you're taken care of… I'll—"

    He stopped to gasp. The more he spoke the farther away his voice got. He was losing it by the second.

    "I'll bring you home."

    "Home?" You asked, and your eyes became glossy all over again. Your apartment was destroyed along with your agency building. When you were eventually discharged, you would have no home to be brought back to.

    "With me. No more… pretending."

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[neonponders]

I’ve never written Murder Boyfriends before, but @cuepickle ‘s art is just so lovely and powerful.

Based on this and this 💗 💜 🖤 (impending smut ahoy)

• • • • • • •

I just want to help, he’d said.

I just want to make things right, he’d said.

Steve said a lot of things. But he moaned incoherent words and exclaimed sounds he didn’t want anyone else to hear when Billy Hargrove steamrolled into his life, his feelings, and his goddamn morals.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t...right. He was twelve different shades of wrong, punctuated by Caribbean blue eyes and decorated with bronzed waves and curls. Steve knew he had a superiority complex, but he hadn’t known it was this bad.

Thing is, if he’d known, Steve couldn’t guarantee whether he’d change anything. Because knowing Billy Hargrove is a murderer would also mean Steve knew what his lips tasted like, and their softness against his neck.

All Steve had known was that Sheriff Hopper was missing, and his parents, being the upstanding white people that they are, deferred nearly every inconvenience to the police. And the police answered, because fat wallets keep their lights on, like everyone else.

But the Sheriff’s phones kept ringing. And maybe Steve had his own complex after so much time with Nancy, because he parked out front and strolled right into the Sheriff’s office.

The secretary wasn’t there.

Neither were the two deputies.

Steve tucked himself between the desks to pry apart the window blinds. Their cars were still here -

Steve’s head rotated at a sound he knew. He knew it in the way a memory piqued but he couldn’t place where or why. He followed it into the chief’s office...where Billy Hargrove sat at the desk - Hopper’s own chair - and ate a crisp apple from the strange pile in the waste paper basket.

“Billy?”

“Hi, Steve,” he smiled. Ankles crossed on the desk. A perfect, violet crescent framed the side of his eye. An indigo shadow rested in the inner corner of the other one. Either way, Steve’s first red flag was that he ached with concern more than itched for the nailed bat in his trunk.

“What happened to you?”

Steve thought the guy might choke, the way he tipped his head back to laugh while chunks of apple sat in his mouth. Naturally, it took him some time to chew and swallow before he said, “I finally stopped being afraid. And I started being responsible. Not the way he planned, though.”

“Hopper?” Steve frowned.

Billy did not answer immediately. He licked the apple like it might drip juice and beckoned, “Why don’t you sit down? I want to see you.”

The only lights on were in the main room where Steve stood. Ghoulish, fluorescent bulbs while Billy sat in shadow and vague, evening light hatching through the Chief’s window blinds. There was some kind of irony there: Steve in the fake, green-tinged light, and Billy in the natural...honest darkness.

Steve peeked behind him, surveying the room but finding no warnings apart from the negative space where people should be.

He stepped into the office -

“I’ve always liked looking at you.”

Steve paused on the carpet. Billy had said it loud enough to hear, but with enough air in it that Steve couldn’t tell if he was drunk or hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Then he tried to sit in one of the chairs -

“Over here. Sit on the desk.”

“What?” Steve blinked at him, suddenly very aware that the light gave Billy full view of his face but Steve only got the glow in that dark blond hair.

A strong leg pushed Billy away from the desk. The apple tumbled onto its pile of brothers, discarded as he pat the desk. “Sit right here.”

Steve shook his head all at once, beginning to backpedal out of the room. “This is weird.”

“No shit. This whole town’s weird. I’ve been reading some personal files in this room. I guess the Chief thought he was being smart, but...I’ve been hiding my whole life. I know where people hide things. A lot of things make sense in this place, now. The rat pack Max hangs out with. And you. A lot of things makes sense about you, Steve.”

Steve shrugged and his hands clapped against his thighs. “Okay? You’re not special for seeing my report cards.”

Billy’s features froze, but only for a moment, and then laughter burst out of him. “Steve, please sit down. God, I wanna touch you.”

Steve Harrington is a simple person. He’d officially been single for far too long, struck out every time he faced a woman - and a couple guys who were too scared or oblivious to do anything - and he just...

He wanted.

He wanted to be touched and if Billy was offering - Hot Stuff Hargrove, Baby Doll Eyes Billy - then Steve couldn’t help but take. He’d been so patient with everyone. He waited for Nancy to be ready. He accepted defeat when everyone walked away from him with rolling eyes or obligatory smiles.

Billy...talked. He talked and talked. He’d always been a talker; on the basketball court, barking orders as a lifeguard. Always talking, or letting his radio talk for him.

But Steve sat on Hopper’s desk and felt the warmth of Billy’s palms seep through his jeans. He held onto Steve’s calves as he talked. Talked about terrible things. Broken plates and abandoned things. Being the abandoned thing. Being the broken thing. He talked for hours before finally fucking Steve on that desk.

He’d started slow. Just unbuttoning the jeans and then leaving them alone. It would be another half hour before he took off Steve’s shoes. Every time Steve looked behind him - as if asking for someone to come in, to interrupt, to break this dark dream Billy wove around him - Billy said, “Look at me.”

“I’ve been looking at you, Billy.”

A small smile twitched on his lips. “Good.”

It would be another hour before he said, “I think my dad killed my mom.”

Less than a minute before he added, “He had it coming. Feel bad for my step-mom, though. But she was a screamer. So was the tall deputy. Things can finally be quiet now.”

Steve sat very still as arms circled around his pelvis and Billy just...hugged him. Pressed his face against Steve’s soft belly and inhaled his scent. Warm laundry and Steve Steve Steve.

He couldn’t be sure how things evolved into sex. Steve was already trapped in Billy’s web, so all he had to do was decide, to give the web a pluck and Steve felt the vibrations.

He planted his hands on the desk, lifting his ass for Billy to wrench the jeans and underwear off in one go. They got stuck on Steve’s feet, bunched up so Steve had to figure it out himself as Billy pressed himself over top of him.

The green desk lamp fell with an ominous clank.

Steve finally got a leg free and wrapped it around Billy’s ass the same time teeth found his neck. The warning bells that had been ringing since he got here felt far away; church bells too high over the town to actually make a difference in the goings-on.

Billy marked him up like he had paperwork to sign. Steve’s deed was his, and Billy moaned and grunted with every sigh he wrung out of Steve. Every squeeze to his waist made him moan, and he outright whimpered when Billy licked up his neck. For how much Billy gripped, bit, and sucked, he moved surprisingly gently below the belt.

“Gonna get lube later,” he said in that way again, traveling down Steve’s body as his thoughts escaped into the air. “I’m going to have your ass every which way, Harrington.”

Steve could only gasp as his tongue shoved inside him with no preamble. “I-I-I didn’t shower - ”

A guttural, breathy hum ricocheted from Billy’s throat and into Steve’s chest, knocking Steve’s head back like a rock on the way there. Billy’s stubble and gross wetness made Steve feel filthy in the best way. His cock lay heavily on his abdomen, spurting precum every time Billy’s hands squeezed the backs of his thighs.

Steve came like he’d never been touched in his life. His breathing picked up and he rutted against Billy’s face twice before making a mess of his shirt.

Billy took his slowly fading erection into his mouth, jerking himself off almost violently in a matter of seconds.

When Steve stepped outside, the air smelled like the sunrise even though only the faintest bit of blue had begun to dilute the darkness. And as the sun rose, Steve had never felt worse. It was like seeing a demogorgon for the first time, but instead of minutes, it stretched into hours.

People were dead.

Presumably Chief Hopper too.

Billy, he...he...

He showed up to Steve’s house with a smile and freshly laundered clothes. Steve had showered but looked like he hadn’t slept in a month. Billy only tipped his head back toward his car. “I’ve got two bank accounts freshly inherited. Let me buy you lunch.”

Steve wondered if Dustin’s comic book villains drove Camaros.

Billy bought him lunch. Bought him a chocolate milkshake too. Steve didn’t want to think about his ability to swallow those down so easily. Or how he interacted with the waitress like he wasn’t covered in red and brown love bites delivered directly atop Chief Hopper’s desk. He didn’t want to think what having all of Billy Hargrove’s attention on him did to his squirming...pleased...insides.

He didn’t want to think as Billy fingered him in the backseat.

They didn’t even fit back there but Billy moved with what felt like the strength of three men. It was arousing, being manhandled like that; any fear Steve ought to have held in his gut tapped its disapproving toe outside of the vehicle. The way Billy sucked behind his ear, gripped his hips so he could slot himself right in between Steve’s legs and rut his dark pink erection against Steve’s...

The way he bought Steve more milkshakes.

And a fresh tire rotation because his car veered to the left.

And filled him up in the darkness of Steve’s bedroom, making Steve bounce on his cock as he licked the taste of him off his lubed up fingers - 

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

It just...came out.

The husky lust cleared from Billy’s eyes when Steve said that. Terror must have filled Steve’s eyes because Billy gently cradled the side of his head.

This is it. This is how I die. Wanting a freaking kiss from a psycho -

“I thought you’d be the one to do that.”

Steve blinked vacantly at him. He could feel Billy’s heartbeat inside his ass and the guy just smiled -

“King Steve. Never thought you were shy - mmph.”

Billy’s bravado melted against Steve’s mouth. He hummed as he felt Steve’s precum on his belly, soaking them both with what he did to him, did to Steve and all of his flawed moral systems.

Steve pushed Billy onto his back with his kiss, tongue desperately tasting and exploring his mouth as his fingers laced behind Billy’s neck.

Until Billy reached up and pulled Steve’s hands apart, just enough for the bases of his palms to sit on both pulse points.

Billy did it himself: made his cheeks go pink and his chest flush red. But Steve made his ass slap against Billy’s thighs. Made Billy’s jaw go slack and his orgasm slow. Made his eyes water and his chest heave when he could breathe again.

Maybe that was his chance. His chance to make things right.

But with an empty Sheriff’s office down the road, and still no one the wiser, Hawkins wasn’t living by any sort of right anymore. The only right that Steve knew, was Billy’s hands making him feel powerful and precious.

[multific]

Solve a Murder

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: You were desperate. You needed help and so, you turned to the one man in London who would be able to help.

“Mr. Holmes, I’m here to hire you to solve a murder.”

“And who’s murder would that be?”

“Mine.”

“Pardon?” asked Dr. Watson.

“It’s my step-sister. I suspect she and her husband want me dead. You see, I inherited my father’s land when she thought she would be the one to get it. And now, just the way she looks at me. She offers me drinks, way too often, I suspect she is trying to poison me. I fear for my life, and lately I haven’t been feeling well. You need to help me. Find evidence that she is plotting my death so I can go to the police.”

The two men looked at each other. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” you said as you stood up, they made you feel like you were a fool, but then the Doctor spoke up making you look back at him.

“How long have you been suspecting that she is trying to poison you?”

“About a month. My dad died five months ago, I lost my mum when I was little, so he married another woman who gave him my step sister. My step mum died two years ago, or rather disappeared. Dad left everything to me in his will. And my sister was fuming, saying that she was the one to deserve it. Back that I was so sad, I didn’t even realize she said that. During the four months I was grieving, but then I started to notice things.”

“Things like?”

“Her servants bringing me food and tea, which is a nice gesture but...it’s usually after I already ate. And then I started to get sick a lot more often. I’m not one to fall sick easily. The doctor said it was just a cold, but...I know she did something. The look on her face said it all. She looked happy when I was in bed for a week. I tried asking for help, but everyone thinks I’m paranoid.”

“I believe you.” said Watson as he looked back at Sherlock who only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s clearly only the mind of a woman, making up scenarios. Why are you really here? You are wasting my time.” his words were harsh. And they hurt. Just as the nice Doctor turned to scold his friend, you spoke up, tear running down your face.

“I hope Mr. Holmes, that you will visit my grave one day. I just wish to see your face when you realize that you were wrong.” you said as you stormed out of the house.

You felt so silly. And to think that you were extremely nervous when you decided to seek for his help. You didn’t even realize that you left your scarf at the house. 

***

You were truly helpless, you didn’t have any friends to talk to, your maids were fired by her, leaving only her trusted ones behind. You were trapped in your own house.

And you didn’t have evidence to go to the police either. Although you looked everywhere in the house for signs. But you were unable to find anything, no bottles, no poison, nothing.

The worst however was that you were gradually falling more ill, day after day.

It felt like you were dying from the inside. So, you called the doctor over.

The doctor said that your illness was due to the loss of your father. The doctor blamed depression, but you knew it wasn’t that. Not with the way your sister was smirking and smiling when she thought you weren’t watching.

One day, you felt so terrible, you couldn’t even get out of the bed. 

And from that day on, you didn’t.

You were so ill, the sun hurt your eyes and you felt useless. You just laid in bed, you weren’t even sure for how long.

You had barely any appetite. And you wondered how many days have passed.

***

“Miss Y/L/N, two gentlemen are here to talk to you. They said they brought your scarf back.” one of the maid’s said before they left, leaving the door open to let the two men in. You tried to sit up, look at least presentable, but you were too weak.

“Miss Y/L/N,” you recognized that voice, that calm and kind voice.

“Dr. Watson,” you said smiling at the man, not noticing that Sherlock was also in the room.

“You left your scarf. Don’t get me wrong, My Lady, but you look very ill.” said the doctor as he placed the cloth by your hand. You grabbed it and thanked him.

“The doctor was just here, yesterday I think. Said it’s only depression.” you said letting out a long sigh. 

“That’s ridiculous. I saw people looking more heathy on their death bed. May I examine you?” you gave him a weak nod, then you turned to Sherlock who was standing on the other side of your bed.

“Will you take my case now, or in a few days when I’m gone?” you asked looking at Sherlock. His eyes met yours.

***

Dr. Watson determined that you needed immediate care in a hospital. Although your sister argued with him, telling him that you already are in the care of a doctor. 

That day, Sherlock took your case. He clearly noticed something which he didn’t’t share at the time.

You were in the hospital for three days, and you already felt better. Every day Dr Watson would come over to talk about the case or ask questions. Although you were sure Sherlock was already close to finding evidence.

***

One day, you were finally better, so you could walk around a little. You were sitting outside, reading a book under a tree when you noticed Mr Holmes making his way over to you. 

“It was the food and the water and the tea and the cookies and everything.” said Sherlock as he sat down beside you. “You were poisoned gradually, small portions on everything you ate, and drank. The maid did it, because your sister ordered her to. Both are in custody as we speak for attempted murder.” he said, but even with your suspicions being right, you didn’t feel better.

“Thank you Mr. Holmes. I will pay you as soon as I get out of here.” you said before turning to look up the tree, watching a little bird hop from one branch to the other.

“Hmm.” you didn’t notice the look Sherlock gave you. But he noticed just how much livelier you looked. Your eyes shined, your skin shimmered in the light. You looked a lot better. “So, as I observed, you are not married. Neither am I.” he said.

You had to admit this was the worst possible way someone tried to court you. You looked at him, eyes wide.

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying that I find you quite beautiful and I would like to know you better.”

“Oh.” 

“Oh? That’s it?”

“Don’t get me wrong Mr. Holmes, I appreciate the compliment, it’s just... Your timing, Sir. I am still in hospital because my sister tried to poison me, my brother-in-law is still out there, possibly stealing everything that he can move from my home. And you are...handsome.” 

“Then, I will be back with the same proposition in a few weeks. Ms Y/L/N.” he said as he stood up and left.

You laughed a little, thinking that he was joking.

After all, what could a man like him possibly want from you?

***

It had been almost a month since you left the hospital.

You were half right about your brother-in-law. He did steal a couple of items when he left, but luckily they didn’t mean anything to you, so you were just happy that he was gone. 

You hired new staff and fired everyone. You were not sure who you could trust.

You also made sure that every food and drink was thrown out or went down the sink. You were not taking any chances. 

The fact that you only had 2 members of staff made you do some work you were not used to. You were no brat and you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty, so you helped with the cleaning where you could. 

You were working in the kitchen, cleaning the cupboards when a voice behind you made you startled. You nearly fell off the furniture as you were cleaning the very top shelves.

“Miss, Mr. Holmes is here.” 

“Thank you, Tina! Let him in, please.”

“He is here, Miss.”

This is when you finally turned around and noticed the man smiling up at you. Tina already left to get back to her duties.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Y/L/N. I must admit, every time we meet I can see a different side of yours. I have never seen a lady on the sink, cleaning the shelves.”

“Well, someone has to do it.” you said slowly climbing down. Sherlock helped you, making sure you won’t fall. “I assume you came for your payment. Give me a moment. I put it in an envelope in the library.”

You said washing your hands before heading into the library. You pulled the drawer of your father’s desk out and pulled the envelope out.

“For your speedy resolution, and for Dr. Watson’s help regarding my health, I added a bit extra. Thank you very much.” you said handing him the payment.

“I actually didn’t come for the payment, Ms. Y/L/N.” he said but you watched as he reached out to take the payment from you and slipped in into his pocket. “I’m here to keep my word. What I said in the hospital, I wish to get to know you better. You seem like a very interesting and smart woman. You realized that your sister was bad, even when everyone, including me, thought that you were delusional. I apologize for that.” you honestly didn’t know what to say. You thought he was a man who wouldn’t see you in a romantic matter. But then again, he just mentioned getting to know you.

“Maybe, you can stay over for lunch? I will cook up something nice.”

“You?”

“Yes, I am yet to hire a new cook, and in the meantime I do the cooking, my old nanny taught me a few recipes.”

“Sounds nice.”

And so, he stayed for lunch, dinner and the next day he came over again and every single day after.

He was charming, and the two of you could speak for hours about everything and anything.

Before you knew it, months, and years passed.

You certainly didn’t think that when you decided to go to Baker Street 221B to ask for help, you would find your future husband.

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