#my 'more concrete' answer was not terribly concrete was it?

[calypsocolada]

BAD ADVICE | s. nagi

synopsis: nagi gives you terrible advice... authors note: boy am I punctual. this series is so fun to write. i hope you all enjoy! I have one last part planned with isagi as the main li so... that will probably be out this weekend sometime :) wc: 3.2k cw: fluff, possibly ooc!nagi click here for my masterlist!

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You’d been rotting in your bed for the past few hours. The embarrassing moment replaying over and over again. You pulled your pillow over your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You could kill Seishiro Nagi. Actually strangle him for the irreparable damage he has done to you. 

There was a boy you liked in school. He was a grade above you. He was aloof and reserved, tall and handsome. You’d gone to a few of his soccer matches at school and when you’d watch him play your heart would soar through the roof of your mouth, an embarrassing display as your eyes lit up. You liked him a lot. And it just so happened that he played on the same team as a childhood friend, Nagi. You’d known Nagi for years… you played in the sandbox with him. He was your first kiss during hide and seek when you were eight. You had a crush on him for the longest time but… your feelings didn’t really seem reciprocated since he sort of treated you like a little sister. He lived two houses over and sometimes you would ride home with him and vice versa. You had a history, a long history. Nagi would help you… surely. 

You clambered down to the field as the boys soccer team ran off. The boy you liked walked at a leisurely pace, he hadn’t even broken a sweat during the game. Your heart swooned just at the sight. You stepped in his path, hoping to introduce yourself when suddenly an arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you a bit off kilter. You fell into Nagi. 

“Hey, take me home.” He yawns, practically hanging off of you. You watched the boy you like stroll by and huffed. 

“Hey take me home please.” You corrected sharply as Nagi just laughed. 

“Yeah, please.” He adds more as an appeasement than anything. You sighed, you missed your chance, again.

“Come on then.” You groaned and stalked off towards the parking lot, Nagi’s hot body still glued to yours. You pushed at him. “Come on, let go! You’re all sweaty.”

“Did you watch me play?” He asks, ignoring your words. “That final goal?” To be honest your eyes were glued to his teammate the entire time so…

“I missed it.” You said and felt the tall boy slump against you. 

“Seriously? What’re you doing in those stands?” He asks, you weren’t going to answer that truthfully because it’s Nagi that’s been asking you to come to his games and if you told him you were distracted that would probably hurt his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, you guys were crushing the other team so I went to get a pretzel.” You lie and luckily Nagi seems satiated by that. 

“Didn’t save me any?” He teased, hand sliding in your coat pocket. You gasped, giggling as you smacked his hand away. 

“No! I didn’t!” 

“How inconsiderate.” He groaned, leaning on you so heavily he about took you both to the concrete. 

“Nagi!” You barked, hand sliding around his hip to stabilize you both. “You’re like a horse sized sloth!” That made Nagi laugh slightly, holding up some of his own weight as he ruffled your hair. 

“You owe me dinner.” He said as you fished out your car keys. You looked at him incredulously as he unlatched himself from you, walking off to the passenger side. 

“I don’t owe you anything.” You barked. 

“Don’t be a hassle. You missed my cool shot then rubbed your pretzel in my face.” 

“I didn’t-“ you were cut off by Nagi slipping in and shutting the door to your car. You groaned as you yanked your door open. “You’re an ass.”

“And calling me names.” Nagi replies drowsily as he leans back in the seat, already closing his eyes. 

“You’re impossible.” You huffed, turning on your car. Nagi was out by the time you turned out of the parking lot and slept soundly the short drive home. When you pulled into your driveway he perked up. 

“Hey… what happened to getting food?” He asked, voice soft from sleep. 

“Snooze you lose.” You say, flicking off your car. Nagi pouts as you get out of the car. 

“Your mom home?” He asks as you roll your eyes. 

“She’s not, so no poaching our dinner.”

“Your house has good snacks.” He points out, slipping out of your car following you to your front door. 

“You’re like a parasite, latching onto me.” You huff but let him follow you inside anyways. After cooking some instant noodles you and Nagi sit on the couch, leisurely watching something he picked. Some game tournaments he found on YouTube. 

“So… you’re teammate… Rin… does he have— someone?” You ask, trying to sound natural but failing as Nagi looks over at you with a strange face. 

“Have someone?” He echoes, a sort of amused expression forming. You looked away instantly, blushing. 

“I’m asking for a friend.” You say but the words sound silly even to your ears. 

“A friend, huh? Which one? It’s not the mean one right? Cause I think Isagi’s got a thing for her-”

“Stop calling her the mean one. And she would be mean if she heard you say that.” You replied. “Now can you answer the question?”

“I don’t know. He barely talks.” Nagi answers, taking a large bite of his noodles, spilling a bit of the broth in his shirt. “Boring sort of guy.” 

“He doesn’t seem boring.”

“Is that so?” Nagi prods and you catch yourself, blushing. “You know I’m starting to think I know this friend better than I thought.” 

“Shut up.”

“Jeez, seriously?” Nagi sits up, setting his bowl on the coffee table. “Y/n…” he almost sounded disappointed. 

“What!” You chirped, embarrassed. 

“You’re not slick.” Nagi yawns. 

“Okay… whatever… I’m the friend.” You shrug. 

“Yeah, I know. But Itoshi? Really? Have you ever even spoken to him before?”

“No! You keep interjecting.” You groan. Nagi’s quiet for a moment as you look over at him. He runs a hand through his hair. 

“You want my help?”

“…Yes.” You concede. 

“Go all out. Put yourself out there. The dudes gloomy, he might like it.” Nagi sighs. You sit up slightly. 

“You think so?” You ask as Nagi shrugs his shoulders. “Alright… thanks for the advice.”

~

Famous last words. Things did not go to plan whatsoever. You did as Nagi said. You went all out and in return you got hit with ‘who’re you?’. Probably top three most embarrassing moments of your life. The worst part of it was… Rin was right. You hadn’t talked to him much if at all. You built this fantasy up in your head and jumped at the smallest lifeboat Nagi had given you only for it to sink under your weight. Why the hell would someone as aloof and quiet as Rin Itoshi like a big show of affection? You felt like an idiot for even believing in Nagi. 

“Okay… yeah it was embarrassing but seriously it’s fine, Y/n. Everyone will forget by Monday.” A friend of yours reassured you over the phone later that night, the mean one as Nagi had so lovingly called her. 

“You didn’t see it, the silence in the hallway… god I won’t be able to sleep.”

“You’re dramatic.” Your friend huffed. “Look, you put yourself out there, how many people can say they did that?” 

“I shouldn’t have done it at all! God I’m such an idiot. I bet Rin and Nagi are laughing it up as we speak. Especially Nagi, that Judas.” You hissed as your friend laughed. 

“I don’t even think Rin Itoshi knows how to laugh. Besides, I'm not sure why you would listen to Nagi’s advice in the first place.” 

“He’s a childhood friend! I thought he’d have my back.” 

“Maybe he thought it would work.” You could hear the well restrained laughter in her tone. You sat up. 

“You’ve seen Isagi today, right? Did he say anything?” You knew it was a stretch. Your friend and Isagi had a sort of… rocky relationship. One you really didn’t understand. Nagi assumed Isagi had a thing for your friend and although that could be true your friend felt very strong negative emotions towards him.

“Do you want me to hit you? The only reason I talk to that know-it-all ball kicker is for student council purposes.” She returned sharply. Yeah… it was a stretch. 

“I’m not sure what you and Isagi do could be considered as talking but-“

“I mean it. I will hit you.”

“I believe you.” You smirked, glad you had called your friend because she had helped you cheer up at least a little bit. Your front doorbell chimed as you startled. Your mom was working late and it was too late for any of the neighbors. “Hey, I’ll call later.” You said, hanging up the phone. You tossed it on your bed and winded your way through the house towards the front door. All you could hear was the gentle pats of rain just outside the door. You peered through the peephole and sighed heavily as you spotted Nagi outside the door. He was the absolute last person you wanted to talk to right now. You turned, pressing your back to the door, closing your eyes as the events of today played in your mind again. It reignited that fire as you whipped around, yanking the door open. Nagi startled at the suddenness of the door. 

“You absolute asshole!” You growled, reaching and yanking the tall boy into your house. Nagi was wet from the rain, his hair wet like a dogs as she slammed the door shut behind him.

“Jesus, what’s wrong?’ Nagi asked as you whirled on him.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!” You parroted as Nagi stared at you, blinking and confused. “You didn’t hear? I’m sure I was the laughing stock of school.”

“Didn’t hear what?” Nagi asked calmly, in fact his nonchalance had you seconds away from ripping the hair from his head.

“Your advice! It fucking sucked!” You hissed as Nagi raised a brow and pursed his lips in thought. He had no idea what you were talking about. “I’m surprised the boys on your team weren’t talking about it.” You threw up your hands in defeat.

“Most of the guys skipped today because of the weather. I stayed for a bit but got sick of listening to Isagi flirt with that mean friend of yours.” Nagi groaned, pushing past you as he stripped off his jacket, kicking off his shoes.

“What’re you doing?” You asked incredulously. “You aren’t welcome here!”

“Did you make anything for dinner?” Nagi asked over his shoulder, ignoring you as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Seishiro Nagi.” You growled, that stopped him in his tracks. He looked back with a stricken look on his face.

“Geez, what’s wrong?” He asked, you slowly approached him with a strained smile.

“The advice you gave me about Rin was shit. I put myself out there and he turned me down.”

“I could’ve told you that.” Nagi shrugged. You grabbed the front of his shirt.

“I have had it up to here with you. Please get the fuck out.” You hissed, seething with anger. Nagi stared at you for a moment, it was possible he was deciding if you were actually angry or messing with him but when you didn’t crack a smile he finally understood the seriousness. He reached up and placed a gentle, warm hand over yours.

“Sorry. I thought you were-... What happened? I didn’t hear anything at school.” He explained calmly. You yanked your hand out of his.

“It’s like I said! You gave me shit advice and I completely embarrassed myself in front of most of the school, Nagi. It was humiliating.” You fumed, cheeks blushing at the memory of it. 

“So he turned you down, so what?”

“So what?” You echoed, running a hand down your face. “You know what. Forget it. You don’t understand. Please just leave.” You waved your hand in defeat as he caught your hand again.

“I… don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”

“I like him, Nagi! And now I've completely embarrassed myself in front of him… he’ll never look at me the same.”

“He didn’t look at you before.”

“Are you actively trying to make me never speak to you again?”

“You never talked to him before, Y/n. You’ve only seen him play. Who cares what he thinks?”

“I care!” You groan as he suddenly tugs you to him, you stumble slightly, surprised. 

“He’s nothing! Sure he’s good at soccer but he’s a maniac about the sport. He’s a hassle. He wouldn’t be good for you anyways.” Nagi explains and you can’t remember the last time he seemed so… passionate about something. He always seemed chill, cool headed. He was heating up the same as you. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” You pushed away from him and this time he didn’t reach for you again. “Just please go.” He stared at you and you couldn’t find it in yourself to meet his eyes. Not this time. There was something different in the air between you both. 

“I’m sorry.” Nagi said softly. You swallowed, your eyes shooting up to meet him. You didn’t expect an apology from him. You had expected him to leave. “I gave you shit advice.” You almost laughed, but your dramatics couldn’t let you find humor in this moment. “On purpose.” He finished as your lips fell open in surprise. 

“What?” You asked, taking a step towards him.

“I did it on purpose.” He repeated.

“I heard you. Why would you do that?” You asked sharply, eyes searching his guilty face. Nagi sighed exhaustedly. 

“I didn’t think you’d ask him so publicly.” 

“Nagi.” You admonished as he sighed again. 

“Do you really not know?” He asked, running a hand over his face as he leaned against the wall, all long legs and dramatics. 

“Know what?” 

“Come on. Aren’t I supposed to be the oblivious one?” He asked and you wanted to pinch him. He sighed once again. “This is such a hassle.” 

“You love that word.” You grumbled annoyed. 

“I invite you to all my games. I try to have dinner with you whenever I can. I ride with you to school as often as possible.” He lists off.

“Okay?”

“Okay?” He mocks as you narrow your eyes. “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since we were eight. Seriously? You didn’t know?” He throws up his hands in frustration. You blinked. And blinked again. You sucked in a breath, almost forgetting how to breathe. You stared at him, processing everything he just said.

“You annoy the shit out of me! You gave me shit advice because you like me! Why didn’t you just say you liked me!” You argued, reaching over and pinching him. He jumps, sucking in a gasp at your pinch.

“Ouch!” He whined, rubbing the spot. You didn’t pinch him that hard as you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin things by up and telling you… I was-- trying to find a romantic moment!” He argued back. 

“Romantic moment?” You echoed.

“Uh huh! I was hoping you’d see my sick goal last night and I’d run over and tell you.” He explains and you can’t help it, you dissolve into laughter. 

“Geez, how romantic.” You breathe out in between giggles. Nagi just stares down at you, red faced and pouting. 

“There… there’s been so many times I’ve wanted to tell you… but it never seemed right. Then you started talking about Rin and I just…” Nagi sighs, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you. If… if you want I can talk with him.”

“You’d do that?” You ask, voice soft. He met your eyes and the hurt that lined them was palpable, but he nodded his head.

“It’s the least I can do.” 

You thought about letting him squirm but the hurt in his eyes was too much. You didn’t have the heart to tease him or play with his heart, not when he’d been such a good friend to you most of your life.

“Forget it.” You waved slightly. “You're right. I don’t really know him.” His eyes found yours and for the first time you felt something charge in the air. You hadn’t thought about Nagi as more than a friend for the longest time but… something about it had your heart speeding. “Nagi?”

“Hm?” 

“Are you serious? About liking me?” You asked as Nagi’s cheeks blushed, despite his effort to keep a cool facade. He nodded his head and suddenly the hall you two were arguing in felt tighter. You averted your eyes and chewed softly on your bottom lip. There had never really been an awkward moment between you and Nagi before but right now it was unbearable. 

“Is that… okay?”

“Uh huh.” You hummed nervously, fiddling with your hands. You couldn’t look up at him, you just couldn’t. This was the second most embarrassing thing to happen today. “Are you gonna look at me?” He asked and you could hear the smirk on his tone. He shouldn’t be the one smirking, he should be the nervous one! He was the one that confessed after all! Your eyes shot up to meet him. Sure enough he was smirking. Damn him.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“You’re blushing.”

“You’re blushing!” You argued, pointing at his face but again he caught your hand and this time when he tugged you forwards his other hand slid across your cheek into your hair. You knew enough to close your eyes as his lips crashed assuredly into yours. Nagi was a lot of things, he was lazy most of the time. Tired and annoying. And you weren’t sure if he’d ever kissed anyone before but… he kissed exactly how he played on that field, like a pro. What an ass! He was good at everything. He pulled you closer and pressed your back into the wall kissing you as though he’d die if he parted from your lips. It was a lightheaded inducing kiss. You had three kisses in your life. Of course Nagi when you were eight but… it was less than a peck. Then there was the boy from middle school who kissed you during a dance. That was little more than a peck. Then the boy you dated two years ago. He moved away two weeks after your one year anniversary. He was a good kisser, though you had nothing at the time to weigh it against. Now… you did. That boy before… was nothing like Nagi. It felt weird to even think about it since you two had been friends for so long but… really. This was… something different. This was the kind of kiss that pop girls wrote about in their love songs. The kind of kiss you’d dream about for years to come. 

“Where’s your head at?” Nagi asked against your lips, his voice low and breathy, it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m thinking… you need to kiss me again.”

“Mhm,” He hummed amusedly, nodding his head. “Yes ma’am.” 

[strniohoeee]

reader is down bad for matt, like she blushes, giggles, goes mute whenever he's around and he kinda enjoys it and one day he finally asks her to go an a date and it ends super fluffy

She’s Got It Bad

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N was out of her mind in love with Matt, but she was shy. Which left her in awkward silent situations until one day Matt puts his foot down! 🌷

Warnings⚠️: None?? Writing kind of sucks also sorry if there’s grammatical errors I never proof read till two days later after I post lolll😭

Song for imagine: This Is How It Feels- D4vd, Laufey

So this is how it feels

To fall in love with you

To always think of you

To always dreams of you

You know when you’re reading or watching a romance book or movie, and one of those super cheesy slow mo scenes happen? Where an 80s love song is queued and the two love interests stare at each other while their hair oh so dainty blows in the wind? And you’re curling your toes as your heart beats for the next scene to happen? Just thinking “I need more! Give me more!” And then it goes back to reality and they end up walking right past one another….

And it wraps you into this hour and a half or 230 page book/movie about the girl wanting the guy….but the guy not really wanting her or simply seeing her as a sister or painfully shoving her in the friend zone? And you’re itching for more. Tired of this back and forth of who will get one another first?

And if you said yes to any of those questions then you are sure looking at my life right now…stuck painfully stuck in the friend zone. Mainly because I put myself there. Let's face it, I'm deeply afraid of rejection. Why ruin something that is virtually perfect.

I had it bad for Matt and I’m not so sure he felt the same way, but I’d never in a million years ever jump at that. I’d rather rip my ears off and tape them to the concrete and then run them over consistently for an hour… okay a bit graphic and a bit over the top but you get the point. He’s off limits and I’ve got it bad for him…

Most of our interactions consisted of short conversations, me blushing like an idiot and even sometimes going silent..offering a nod here and there. It’s even gotten to the point of having to leave the hangout because I was so nervous around him. I mean what if I said something that he found cringey? What if I embarrassed myself which I tend to do a lot might I add? Or even worse…what if he didn’t find me funny?

All these terrible instances bounced off my brain like a bullet ricocheting off of metal walls. As I sat chewing my lip, suddenly my thoughts were interrupted

“Helloooooo” I heard loudly from the other end of the phone call

Blinking out of my trance I soon realized I had been on the phone.

“I’m sorry Nick I got side tracked” I replied gripping the phone again

“Yeah I can tell you went rogue for like 3 minutes there, did you even hear what I asked you?” He asked laughing

“Uhhh yeah and I think you should go with the yellow shirt” I replied praying I wasn’t so far off from what he was talking about

“That was like 10 minutes ago, I asked are you coming or what?” He said huffing

“I’m sorry? Coming? Where?” I asked again as I furrowed my eyebrows

“This is why I don’t call you, you have the attention span of a fly” he said laughing which caused me to laugh

“I’m sorryyyy I was thinking about something” I replied to him

“Aren’t you always… I was asking if you were coming over tonight for movie night?” He said shuffling around

“Ohhh duhh of course I never miss Saturday nights with you” I said getting up to pack my overnight back

“Even though Matt and Chris are joining us this time?” He asked

This is where I hadn’t been listening previously and I almost choked on my saliva trying to form a proper answer.

“Uh.. *ahem* yes of course they can join us” I replied trying to seem chill

“Wow sooo nonchalant about that” he stated sarcastically

“Oh will you shut up” I replied stuffing my duffle bag

Nick opened his mouth to speak but on the other end it sounded like someone walked in his room

“Matt get the fuck out I’m on the phone” Nick said which made me laugh a bit

“Who are you talking to?” I heard Matt ask his brother

“Your girlfriend now fuck off” he said almost hissing at Matt

“NICK STOP” I squeaked over the phone

“I don’t have a girlfriend you sicko” Matt stated sounding annoyed…. I looked up at my imaginary camera (hmm how do I take that response) I thought.

Shaking that feeling off I returned to the call

“Okayyy bye nickkkk see you in a bit” I replied rushing him off the phone

Hanging up the call I sighed deeply… if I wasn’t already nervous to possibly run into Matt then oh boy was I in for a treat

Usually, Saturday nights were for Nick and I and I rarely ever ran into Matt or Chris. Usually it was Chris and him and I had a cool bond. We’d stop to hug and chat for a bit before Chris left to go out. And if I ever ran into Matt it was him leaving with Chris which prompted me to wave slightly and avoid all hugs. Rambling on about Nick needing me for something upstairs each time and not even giving them the chance to respond.

I usually shut my eyes and shook my head when I turned away from them and even muttered a few unkind words about myself to myself….

But tonight…tonight Matt was joining us which meant I couldn’t be awkward around him or else Nick would for sure point it out.

I had gotten to their house with dinner for all of us which we landed on chilis…. Good thing I was 21 I needed a to go drink…preferably strong!

Sitting in their living room as we all began to eat, Nick scrolled through Max as we sat on the floor with our food on the coffee table.

“We should watch Silver Linings Playbook I heard it was good” I said looking over at the tv as Nick had just passed the movie

“I’m down” Chris said shrugging his shoulders

Nick and I usually watched action movies where we’d see a bunch of sweaty hot men fighting bad guys. And most of those movies we’d just yell out if we’d smash the guys or not. I don’t know that Matt and Chris would want to take part in that so a rom-com was for the win!

Max was playing a few ads before the movie and as I was sipping my margarita in a styrofoam to go cup (how niche) Matt had called my name

Looking over at him I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Do you like rom-coms?” He asked me

I felt my ears getting hot and my face too….good thing I’m drinking and I can just blame it on the alcohol.

“I do, I love them actually” I replied nodding at him

“I love them too” he said smiling at me as he ate a fry

“Nice” I said nodding my head and looking over at the tv…why the fuck were their ads still playing? Squinting I turned back around to face him

“Uhh what’s your favorite?” I asked him clearing my throat

“I’d have to say 10 things I hate about you” he replied wiping his hands

“SHUT UP! Me too” I replied getting really excited and loud (blaming it on the alcohol once again)

“No way” he replied laughing

“No! like I swear! I have all the romance movies I’ve ever seen ranked in my notes app and 10 things I hate about you is number one, look see” I replied rambling as I opened up my app and showed him

His brows raised…an impressed look might I add

“Wow Y/N didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic” he said winning at me

This made my heart flutter and my voice disappear? Sinking into my skin I nodded at him before turning to watch the tv

Throughout the whole movie I kept catching Matt looking at me but he’d look away quickly. This made my skin crawl in a good way though

The movie finished and I found myself emotional. I mean it wasn’t a sad movie but rather beautiful. Nick and Chris had gone to lay on the couch at some point in the movie.

So to no surprise Matt and I turned to find them fast asleep. Shaking our heads we cleaned up the living room and headed to the kitchen to place everything in the trash.

The hallway light illuminating the kitchen as I washed my hands

“I almost feel like Silver Linings Playbook is my number one rom-com” Matt and I both stated at the same time

Laughing I shut the water off and turned towards him

“I guess we really are similar” I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest

“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t know you’re always running away from me” he said quietly

“Am not!” I replied standing up straight

“You’re always running away from me as fast as possible, you don’t hate me do you” he stated as he wiped down the table

“No” I replied watching his every move

“Then why do you run away? Do I stink?” He asked laughing

“No! You just happen to catch me when I’m busy” I say lying through my teeth

“Right…I suppose so, I do know how to get you at the right time though” he stated throwing the paper out

“Do you?” I asked cocking an eyebrow

“Yeah…when I take you on a date and have all your attention so we can really get to know each other”he says

“Well we’re friends so I do know you” I reply rolling my eyes

“No…know me on a different level that’s not…friends” he says smiling at me sweetly

“Not friends?” Was all I could mutter

“Just say yes to the date you loser” he replied shaking his head

“Yes..sorry yes I will go on a date with you” I replied shaking my head and giggling

“You’ve ever seen Notting Hill?” He suddenly asks me

“I actually haven’t” I stated

“Want to watch it?” He asked me

“But Chris and Nick are sleeping” I replied pointing over my shoulder

“You miss queues don’t you?” He asked cocking an eyebrow

“They don’t call me a ditz for nothing” I replied jokingly

He looked at me with adoration in his eyes for a moment before opening his mouth

“I mean with me…just me” he replied with soft eyes

“Oh....yeah” I replied breathlessly as I shook my head…am I that fucking stupid? I thought to myself

We shut off the tv and the hallway light. Matt led me to his room as I followed behind. It felt so foreign being in a room with a new undertone to it….more than friends

“You can sit closer I won’t bite” he says as he looks over at me

“Right, sorry” I say sitting closer to Matt against the headboard

The air felt awkward as we watched the movie, but Matt slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in

“I’m not a stranger” he replied as he snuggled me closer against him

Smiling against him I melted into his touch as we fell asleep to a romance movie. I guess being shy does work out in the end and I’ve always had it bad for Matt but after today? You’re for sure thinking

She’s got it bad!

The End

I wasn’t sure how to end this…it’s so HARD TO END A STORY WTFFFF. Anywho we’re almost at 2,600 followers🥹🥹. Yall I could cry this means so much to me I remember when I had hit 100 followers and I never thought I’d make it this far. I’m so eternally grateful for you all😩🖤🖤. I know I don’t update three times a day everyday like I used to, but I’m so glad yall are sticking around till this day when I post once to twice a week every two weeks. I don’t deserve you, thank yall so much🥹💕💕💕. Stay tuned for more work baes

-J💅🏽

[that-house]

December 3rd, 2031 – Sixty degrees, clear skies, and a nice southeasterly breeze. It was a beautiful day to lay siege to Dallas. It was a good thing the weather was nice, because everything else about the operation looked rough. Marian couldn’t wait.

Dallas was a classic Texan fortress-city, two rings of forty foot tall concrete walls with a killing field in between, bristling with anti-aircraft cannon. The ground-facing defenses were a little less thorough, but a few machine guns would make quick work of any infantry charge and Dallas had more than a few machine guns.

“We aren’t being paid enough,” Suzy griped. She was crouching in the shade, alternatingly blowing a bubble of gum and taking swigs out of a bottle whose contents were hidden by a paper bag.

“We’re mercenaries. Get used to it.” Marian hoisted her gun onto her shoulder. “Besides, they don’t exactly expect us to succeed.”

“Oh, are we leading a suicide charge? I wasn’t paying attention to the Duke.” Suzy was never paying attention, but the benefits of having her around outweighed the drawbacks. Most days, at least.

“Pretty much.”

“Did the guys we’re with know this was a suicide charge?”

Marion looked around at the Jeep the Duke of Austin had hastily assigned the duo to. The soldiers suddenly all looked a bit green around the gills. “I’m guessing not. Chin up, boys! Auntie Marian won’t let any harm come to you.”

One of the men, a lieutenant, managed to find his voice. “Why are we here?”

“The Duke hopes that we’ll die loud enough that Dallas won’t notice his bombers taking out the emplaced guns. Doesn’t strike me as very sound tactics, but hey, he’s got manpower to make up for what he lacks in brains.”

Silence in the back of the Jeep.

Marian continued, mostly to fuck with them. “And don’t think the tanks’ll be any help. See those big fancy guns up on the wall? Those are lonestar guns. You boys seen lonestar guns?”

“Yeah.”

“So you get the idea. But hey, cheer up! It’s not every day you get to storm the best-defended city in the state!”

The man slowly came to a revelation a long time coming. “You’re insane,” he said.

“Insane was my father’s name. Please, call me Marian Typhoon.”

Suzy cackled. “That was terrible.”

The soldiers looked between the two women, now realizing they were both mad. “How are you two so calm?”

Marian didn’t answer for a moment, looking out at the slowly-approaching walls of Dallas. The lonestar guns’ targeting algorithms would start flagging the vehicles soon. “Suzy, how far out are we?”

“About a mile and a half.” Suzy busied herself checking over her rifle.

“Now, boys, I’m gonna explain two concepts very quickly, so you’d best pay attention. The KL-90 fully automatic sniper rifle, sometimes called “Le Papillon,” was something of a failure, because for some reason those glorious Frenchmen decided to make it fire 1200 rounds per minute, giving it a tendency to dump the entire mag into one poor fucker. Only six were ever made, and nowadays they’re just museum pieces. In 2026, the American military plunged into the deep end of bioweaponry and concocted a little something known as the ‘vampire virus,’ which proved pretty damn lethal in 99.99% of cases. The 0.01% that survived were problematic enough that the program shut down, and all information about it was expunged from the record.”

Marion patted Suzy affectionately on the head. “Now you might be wondering how those two disparate pieces of information might happen to overlap, and if you boys just sit pretty for a moment I reckon you’ll be able to connect the dots. Suzy?”

The last surviving vampire, Suzy Nines, slotted the magazine into her KL-90 fully automatic sniper rifle, and squinted out at the Dallas walls. She squeezed the trigger, the barrel swinging into a wild blur of motion as the sound of gunfire filled the air. “Machine gunners down. Reloading.”

Marian patted the hapless lieutenant on the shoulder. “Come along, boys. Auntie Marian’s got a city to take.”

[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.

[not-another-leon-blog]

Family Matters

DI! Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Death Island Spoilers!

Summary– The kids are exposed to the evils of the world. Word count: 3746 D/n– Daughter's name S/n– Son's name Sequels: Aftermath / Out Together

You woke to the sound of quiet sniffling. Someone was shaking you, almost begging you to wake up. Your eyes opened, your vision fuzzy and your head feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“Mommy, wake up,” your daughter cried as she shook you. “Please, wake up.”

You groaned, reaching up to rub your eyes. Taking in your surroundings, you knew you were far from Los Angeles. Instead, you were surrounded by concrete walls and steel bars. This wasn’t the Walk of Fame, it was a prison.

“Mommy, I’m scared,” your daughter said, throwing herself in your arms.

“Don’t be scared,” said her twin brother confidently. “Dad’ll save us.” His pacing betrayed his confidence, not that his sister could tell with her face hidden in your shoulder. “Besides, Aunt Claire and Uncle Chris are here, too.”

“They are?” you asked. The fog in your head was starting to lift. “Chris? Claire?”

“We’re here,” Chris called. But he sounded weak, wounded. 

“Where exactly is ‘here’?”

“Alcatraz,” said Claire. If Chris sounded terrible, she sounded worse. Whatever was going on, you knew it was something the kids shouldn’t be a part of. “Jill’s here, too.” Somewhere." It only took a second for you to connect the dots. If they were all here, then surely Leon would be as well. 

You knew he had been on assignment in San Francisco so logically he couldn’t be too far away. It was supposed to be simple– a job he could complete in a day or so and then he would meet you and the kids in Los Angeles. How it turned into this…

We’re bait, you thought. It was a virtual guarantee. But how? All of your files had been secured and locked up; Leon had made sure of it. So how did you end up here? Why were you here?

D/n trembled in your arms and S/n was becoming more restless. Carefully, you lifted D/n with one arm and pushed yourself to your feet with the other. Reaching out to touch the bars, you gave them a firm shake. They didn’t budge.

“I gotta set you down, baby,” you said to D/n. She nodded hesitantly, going to her brother once she was out of your arms. She and S/n went to sit on the cot, holding each other’s hands. S/n’s leg bounced nervously.

You continued to examine the bars, looking for any kind of weakness. “So, what brought all of you to Alcatraz?” Might as well get an idea of what you were about to face if you were going to be stuck here.

“There were outbreaks in the city,” Chris said, his breathing heavy. “Found a connection to Alcatraz…”

That’s certainly one way to get him and Jill here, you thought. But what about Leon? How did his assignment connect to all of this?

“You kids okay?” Claire asked, taking a sharp breath.

“Okay,” S/n answered softly. 

You abandoned the bars and went to kneel in front of them. D/n’s face was blotchy with tears and she was wiping her nose with her sleeve. Soft hiccups rocked her little body. S/n, on the other hand, was still bouncing his leg and kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him. You took their hands and gave them a soft squeeze.

“We’ll be okay,” you assured them. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you, understand?” You looked each of them in the eye. “No one will touch you while I’m here.” D/n nodded and you reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Mom,” S/n said, but his attention wasn’t on you. It was on someone standing outside of the cell. A tall woman stood there, dressed in a shiny pink jumpsuit. You knew exactly who she was and suddenly it all made sense.

Like a switch had flipped, your attitude went from soft and caring to tough and protective. You stood and put yourself between her and the twins. “What do you want?” Your voice was sharp and stern.

“Your husband will pay for what he did to my father,” Maria replied.

“Yeah, I get that.” You took a step closer. “But they have no part in it. You want to use someone, use me. This isn’t their fight.”

“It became their fight when he murdered my father. They deserve to know what kind of monster theirs is.”

S/n jumped up from the cot and rushed against the bars, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. “Our Dad’s a hero!” he yelled. “You're the monster!” Maria hit the bars, scaring S/n away from them. But he only backed away enough to stand next to you and stared Maria down as she marched down the cell block.

D/n was crying again. S/n turned to her. “Dad’s gonna be here,” he assured her. “He’s gonna save us– just like he saved the girl in Spain!” He froze like a deer in headlights and glanced over at you.

“S/n Marvin Kennedy,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve been in your father’s office again, haven’t you?”

“No.” An obvious lie. There was no other way he would know about Spain and Leon would never talk about past missions with his kids. He never even really told him what his job was.

“We’re having a talk about that later.” He bowed his head and went to sit beside his sister again. “And I’m reminding Dad to change those locks, too.” S/n seemed to shrink more into himself. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “Dad… maybe… kinda taught me to pick locks.”

“Then get us out of here!” D/n yelled at him.

“I don’t have anything to use!”

Leon would certainly get a scolding for that. A sharp pain shot in your neck. A moment later your body felt weak and you leaned against the wall for support. In an instant, breathing began to get harder, too.

“Mommy?” D/n said through her sniffles.

“Y/n?” came Claire’s voice. Whatever had infected Claire and Chris had infected you, too. But how? Your mind raced. You were never bitten.

You groaned in pain, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. With what strength you could muster, you crawled back to the bars to put distance between you and the kids. D/n moved to go to you but S/n held her back. He knew something was wrong. He knew there was a reason you were moving away from them. At eight years old, you hated how perceptive he was.

Lights shone at the other end of the prison block. Footsteps came closer, echoing off the walls. You gripped the bars, trying to ready yourself to face Maria and whoever else she was working with.

“Leon?” Claire muttered softly.

The kids gasped and ran to the cell door. “Daddy!”

“Y/n? Kids?” Leon rushed to your cell, quickly holstering his gun. The kids reached their hands through the bars, trying to hug him as best as they could. He looked them over for any injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” S/n told him. “But Mom…”

The pain was getting worse. Your breaths had turned into short gasps. The twins let go of him and he turned to you, cupping your face in his hands. “Hey, handsome,” you breathed. 

“Long time, no see, sweetheart,” he replied, his blue eyes full of worry. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. We were going to the Walk of Fame and…” Then you gestured to the cell. “I’m sorry… I should’ve been… more careful.” Maybe you were starting to get rusty. Years ago you would’ve seen the ambush from a mile away.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Get us out of here!” another man’s voice cried, catching Leon’s attention. 

“Well, I’ll be,” Leon muttered as he craned his neck to see who spoke. There was no way in hell he was leaving his family’s side right now. “Antonio Taylor… I’ll deal with you later.”

The overhead lights turned on and the kids scrambled to your side. The light stung your eyes and a headache started to form at your temple. Leon shot up, pulling his gun from its holster and scanning the cell block. There at the second-story railing stood Maria and another man, his cane tapping rhythmically on the metal floor.

This new man introduced himself as Dylan Blake. “I bet you’re wondering how people are getting infected without being bit,” he said, proudly going on to describe his bio-drones: insects that could infect whomever Blake pleased. Your heart sank at this realization. It was only a matter of time before you turned. 

You tuned out whatever Blake continued to say, your attention on the kids. D/n was still shaking like a leaf against you, but her tears had stopped. S/n was on his knees in front of you. The pain was starting to become unbearable, and knowing what would happen if you turned… 

“There’s a reason I left you and Leon alone, Jill,” Blake continued. “You want to talk about justice? You should be pointing your guns at Claire and Y/n.” Leon spared a glance at you. You were pale and shivering and you were only getting worse. “They’ll turn soon enough and when they do, they’ll rip apart the doctor and those kids.”

“The kids have no part in this!” Leon snapped.

“They became part of it when you began to work for liars, people who cover up the truth. The ones continuously sending you into battle rather than staying home with your family.” Leon stiffened. You knew he felt guilty about being away from home so much. “Which will it be? Your wife or your kids? Better make your choice quick before she devours them.”

“Leon,” you called softly. With his gun still trained on Blake, he looked back at you. You nodded at him, but he shook his head. Shooting you wasn’t an option for him. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to shoot his children– he’d rather die than do that.

Soon enough Blake and Maria were gone and Leon was back by your side, D/n and S/n clinging to the arm he slid between the bars. “Babies,” he said, “I need you to get in that back corner. Can you do that for me?” They nodded and did as he said. His attention turned to you and he lowered his voice so they couldn’t hear. “Y/n, I’m not shooting you. The twins need you and I will not let them witness something like that.”

“I don’t want to hurt them,” you told him, tears welling in your eyes. “Leon, you have to.”

“No.” His voice was stern. “It’s not gonna happen. We’ll figure it out.”

You lifted your hand to gently trace the curve of his jaw, his stubble lightly scratching your skin. “I love you, Leon.” He held your hand against his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Daddy,” D/n called. “What’s gonna happen to Mommy?”

“Mommy’s going to be just fine,” he told her firmly. Leon felt like the worst father in the world. The last thing he had ever wanted was for his kids to be dragged into his work. He was sure that with Y/n at home, they’d be perfectly fine. He thought he’d taken every step necessary to keep his family safe. What had gone so wrong that they ended up here?

“Real father of the year,” he muttered under his breath.

“This… isn’t your… fault.” You curled in on yourself as pain shot through your body. You had the cell bars in a death grip as you attempted to maintain yourself. Something was brewing in your chest, something violent and bloody. You met Leon’s eyes, your tears finally falling. “Please…”

Just as he was about to reply, someone came running into the cell block. It was Rebecca with a hard-shelled case in her arms. “What’s that?” Leon asked, but he already knew the answer. He just needed to hear it to believe it.

“A vaccine,” Rebecca replied, popping the case open and handing him a syringe.

Leon couldn’t move fast enough. He uncapped the syringe and brushed your hair aside. “This might hurt, baby.” There was a sting in your neck as he injected the vaccine. Relief washed over you like a cool blanket and finally, you were able to catch your breath. As you composed yourself, Leon got to work on unlocking the door.

The door slid open and Leon enveloped you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. He pulled away and the two of you were nearly thrown over as the twins barreled into you. Leon held all three of you tight against his chest.

“I told you Dad would save us,” S/n said, his voice muffled against Leon’s shirt. Leon kissed the tops of their heads and pulled away just enough to look at all of you.

Whatever was in that vaccine worked wonders and by the time you were back on your feet, you felt good as new. “What now?” You couldn’t just take the kids and leave. There was no telling what was lurking in the halls. Taking them with Leon was risky– Blake wouldn’t give up easily. There was no doubt in your mind that there’d be a shootout at some point.

Leon kissed you again and handed you a spare gun. It wasn’t safe here with the bio-drones and he wasn’t about to let you go out and try to escape the island with two eight-year-olds. His only option was to try to keep you all in his sight and out of harm’s way. “Stay with me.” He turned to the twins. “You two,” S/n stood a bit straighter, “do exactly as I or your mother say. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

The four of you made your way to the armory. Leon took the lead with the twins behind him and you taking up the rear. Once you made it to the armory, Leon stopped and hugged the kids again. “I love you,” he said to them, “listen to Mom.”

“Where are you going?” D/n asked, gripping his shirt.

“I’m gonna stop the bad guys,” he replied. “Be good.” He stood and pecked your lips. “Get to the control room, you’ll be safe there.”

~~

The three of you reached the control room. The openness of the room didn’t bring you much comfort– there wasn’t any real place to hide the kids. The best you could do was keep them away from the windows.

You made sure the door was secure and turned to the kids, tucking your gun into your waistband as you kneeled in front of them. “How are you two doing?” The answer was obvious, but you wanted to hear them talk to you. You needed them to focus as best as they could and make sure that they understood how important their safety was.

“Aren’t you scared?” S/n asked. 

“I am,” you answered honestly. “And it’s okay to be.”

“So you and Daddy were doing this stuff when you met?” asked D/n in a small voice. She had calmed down but maintained a nearly bone-crushing grip on her brother’s hand. You knew that she had always wanted to picture a romantic meeting between you and Leon like the other girls’ parents at school, but the reality was not nearly as sweet.

“Yeah, sweetie–”

A monstrous roar cut you off and the twins screamed. You grabbed your gun and spun around to the window. A massive, mutated monster took up the expanse of the window, but it wasn’t focused on you. Still, you ushered the kids back into the wall farthest away and kept your gun trained on it.

A number of loud pops sounded from outside. Gunshots. The others must be down there. With the beast’s attention away from the window, you focused your attention on the door. Your grip on your gun tightened. The kids jumped and gasped behind you with each new explosion. Shielding them from watching those through the window would be near impossible.

Something smashed against the window, but the glass held strong. Barrels and boxes flew throughout the expanse of the armory. The ground shook beneath you and the groans of crashing metal echoed in your ears.

The door burst open, scaring the kids and startling you. It was Claire and Rebecca.

“What is that thing!?” D/n yelled.

The two stopped short, unsure of how to answer her. Claire recovered first. “That’s the bad guy.”

“That’s the bad guy!?” S/n repeated. He tugged on your shirt. “You have to go help Dad!”

“I need to keep you two safe.” As much as you wanted to go help, you and Leon had talked long ago about situations like this. Situations you had hoped and prayed would never come to pass and a discussion that led to your retiring from the D.S.O.

Only one of you would actively fight. The other would stay with the kids no matter what. That way if something happened to the other, the twins would still have at least one parent.

“What are you doing?” D/n asked as Claire and Rebecca rushed to the main computer.

“We,” Rebecca started as her hands moved across the keys, “are gonna stop a bunch of bugs.”

~~

As the gunshots rang and rockets exploded, Leon kept watch on the windows of the control room. Leading the creature, formerly Dylan Blake, away from those windows was his top priority (aside from killing it, of course).

At least with Maria dead, he didn’t have to worry about someone else going after you and the twins. And even if she were still alive, you’d give her hell for doing this to your family.

“Just a heads up,” Chris said as they put together a massive rocket launcher, “the missus is gonna have a word with you about teaching S/n to pick locks.” He grunted as they slid the two pieces of the weapon together.

Leon grinned. He knew that would come back to bite him one day. Hell, he was looking forward to your scolding. “I’d be surprised if she didn’t.” He lifted the front of the launcher up on his shoulder while Chris steadied it from behind. “A little lower.” Chris kneeled down a bit more, letting Leon get a higher angle.

The creature had jumped into the water after Jill and was now trying to make for open waters. Leon aimed for the gate's pulley system. With only one shot, he needed to make this count.

Another second passed as he steadied the launcher and pulled the trigger.

The rocket flew from the barrel, jolting him and Chris as it flew to the gate. The rocket exploded on impact, and the gate dropped. It crashed into the water and a moment later another explosion erupted. Blood stained the water and pieces of Blake's mutated carcass rained down.

Leon eyed the water nervously, searching for any movement that could indicate that somehow the bastard survived. When nothing aside from a massive corpse floated to the surface, he sighed in relief.

He barely had a moment to relax before he was knocked over. It wasn't often that his kids caught him off guard, but here they were, piled on top of him and hugging him so tight he could barely breathe. Well, if he were to die, being smothered by his childrens' affection didn’t seem like such a bad option to him.

Once he’d regained his bearings, he hugged them equally as tight, enough to make them groan and try to push away from him (which in turn made him squeeze just a bit harder). He turned his head to see you approaching, a soft smile on your face. “Care to join in on this?”

“He’s crushing us!” S/n squealed.

“Am not,” Leon huffed.

“Are too!”

He let the twins go and sat up. D/n stayed in his lap and S/n sat beside him. At that moment, there was no denying that S/n was his son. He was almost a carbon copy of his father. The scene almost made you forget about everything that had just happened.

You could still feel a faint throbbing where Blake’s drone had stung you, an eerie reminder of what could have been if Rebecca hadn’t shown up when she did.

“Can we go home now?” D/n asked.

~~

While waiting for the evacuation helicopters, the twins had taken to bombarding Claire and Rebecca with questions, giving you a brief moment alone with your husband.

“You know we’re not sleeping alone for a good while.” 

“I know.” He watched as S/n turned his attention to Chris, climbing up on the man’s shoulders. Where other parents might dread the thought of having their bed invaded, Leon welcomed it. He’d rather have them running to him in the dead of night than deal with nightmares on their own.

“We should’ve just stayed in D.C.,” you mumbled, leaning against Leon as he wrapped an arm around you. Maybe if you and the kids had stayed home they would have been spared the terror of being kidnapped and threatened.

Leon shook his head. “Maria would’ve found a way.” Of that, he was certain. If there was anyway to guarantee his suffering, targeting his family was a sure way to do it. “We’ll take a real vacation after this.”

“D/n has been begging to go to Disney.” You sighed. “We can’t hide this stuff from them anymore.” That was perhaps the worst of it. You and Leon had gone to great lengths to shield them from the reality of Leon’s work.

The two of you watched the twins. Chris was still carrying S/n on his shoulders and at some point D/n had managed to steal Claire’s red jacket. Soon, they came running back, wedging themselves between you.

D/n pointed toward the horizon. “Are those the helicopters?”

“They sure are,” Leon replied as he smoothed her hair.

S/n tugged on Leon’s shirt and flashed his best set of puppy eyes. “Can I have the window seat?”

[exercise-of-trust]

everyone clap and cheer for my beautiful daughter who has every disease 🥰 her name is þerindë because her wheel is made out of an embroidery hoop; she is entirely handmade and boy howdy does it show

a whole bunch of things have stopped working since i took that video last night and i'm not sure how much more wherewithal i have to keep messing with her, but i did manage to spin about two feet of something before then! so i'm showing her off a bit now, and if i can figure out what-all i fucked up maybe you'll see more of her in the future. some process and progress photos under the cut (not a tutorial. do not do this. i cannot sufficiently stress how bad of an idea this was and is*)

(*if you are going to do this and have questions not answered here i am always happy to answer them, inbox and dms are open etc, but like. i would strongly advise against it)

here's the hoop! it's about a foot across, with a groove carved out with a speedball. this ended up being way too shallow (who'd'a'thunk) so the final version is a lot deeper than what you're seeing here. the paint stirrers are held in with straight pins because i was worried regular nails would just crack the hoop lmao. my girl is so deeply and profoundly scuffed <3

the flyer is made from three cedar shingles glued together because i didn't have a solid piece of wood large enough. astonishingly nothing broke while i was sawing out the rough shape and it whittled down pretty nicely! the hooks are scrap 2mm copper wire, the orfice is a couple inches of plastic drinking straw, and the pulley wheel is also hand-carved, which is why it looks like a fucked-up oreo and has the weird hitch at the top of the spin that you probably saw in the video 🙃 frankly i am astonished it works as well as it does

the wheel frame is. man. the axle supports haven't broken yet but frankly it's a miracle they're still in place with how much strain they're under every time. the original base was that weird little bit of paint stirrer, which (shocker) did not work out in the long run; it's been replaced by an offcut from the frame and is significantly more sturdy now. it's surprisingly level, though, and turns pretty smoothly all things considered!

the frame was a nightmare start to finish; i've never done any serious woodworking before in my life and the whole thing was just kind of slapped together without a plan or any sort of concrete measurement. it wobbles so fucking bad and every few hours i have to push a couple of the parts back together where the nails are sort of drifting out of the wood. you may observe a weird post sticking out the left side of the mother-of-all; that is supposed to be for scotch tensioning. does it actually do that? sort of! the belt is a length of cotton crochet thread that is, after much fiddling, just the right size to not slip out more than once every three minutes.

treadling was another pain to figure out and i think i probably made it way more complicated than it needed to be. it still doesn't work very well and i can't tell if that's something i can fix hardware-wise or if i just have to suck it up and practice a lot more. turns out feet are not as coordinated as hands! i would say "now i know for next time!" but frankly i am never doing this again. you couldn't pay me. speaking of which, i did the math and at my current pre-tax hourly salary i could've bought two brand-new ashford travelers with the number of hours i spent building my awful rickety daughter. at the end of the day, do i love her? immensely. is she "good"? by no stretch of the imagination.

anyway. this was a terrible use of my time <3 but i do finally feel confident enough in all the parts of a spinning wheel and what they're for that i can brave the dangers of facebook marketplace's "spinning wheel" category without getting too badly scammed! which is pretty valuable in its own right, i guess.

[koji-haru]

Get well soon, Lucifer

Lucifer couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be helping his darling princess with the hotel, and yet here he was, wrapped in multiple layers of soft blankets in bed and sick. Very sick. Did he get it from the cannibals that helped them in the fight? Satan knows whatever kind of nightmare they ate. Maybe from that one-eyed maid? What was her name again? Nippy? That would make sense given her tendency to skitter around the place, squeezing into places no one even knew existed. But no. He may have fallen, but Lucifer’s nature should protect him from most, if not all, vile sickness that Hell had to offer, he was the king of this rotten place after all. 

He twisted in his bed, or at least he tried to, given he was tightly wrapped in blankets. No matter how many times he shifted and changed positions, the discomfort remained. A sickly warmth spread all over his body, his limbs felt like lead yet also somehow mushy, and his head, oh his head was killing him. It was as if his head was flooded by the mud that had passed through every sewer in pride and then encased in concrete to forever weigh on his brain. Lucifer turned again in his bed, grumbling weakly. He tried to think of possible sources of his sickness, but even thinking proved to be an arduous task in his current condition. It had been so long since he felt this weak, it kind of reminded him of his first few years in Hell, being alone and lost and just broken. Back then, he had Lilith to at least go through with it together, but now…

“You look funny wrapped like that,” a voice commented from just behind him. “Kind of like a sausage roll.”

Turning once more to face his visitor, Lucifer blinked at his visitor, his vision slightly hazy from the excessive warmth he was surrounded with. Someone was sitting on the edge of his bed, someone tall with soft brown hair adorned with beautiful black horns with a golden sheen that curved to the back of his head and beautiful golden eyes that glowed more beautifully than any treasure. Lucifer tried to wiggle closer towards his visitor, his presence a soothing coolness that he craved so terribly. 

“Adam,” he called out, his voice quiet and hoarse. 

Adam simply smiled at him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Oh, you poor thing, you’re really sick, huh?”

“I think–” Lucifer paused, coughing for a moment before resuming. “I might have gotten it from those angels.”

“The exterminators?,” asked Adam. 

“Only a sickness from Heaven could affect me this badly,” Lucifer groaned. That made so much more sense, but it also meant that he was truly sick. “They just had to leave one more problem, huh?”

Adam didn’t reply, not even a soft hum of agreement. He just…kind of looked down at Lucifer, his golden eyes feeling distant. Lucifer resumed his squirming, trying to get more of the coolness that Adam was exuding, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to get any more closer. It was as if he was just out of Lucifer’s reach. 

“Adam,” Lucifer called out again, eyes watering slightly. “Can you come closer? I can’t– You seem so far away.”

“I don’t think I can,” answered Adam, his voice sounding faint. 

“Oh, right.” Lucifer stopped his squirming, the little energy he had already drained and  exhaustion weighing heavily on his bones. “You might get sick too.”

“I won’t get sick,” Adam laughed, his voice a haunting echo in the dark bedroom. “Have you forgotten already?”

Slowly, through his blurry vision, Adam’s image shifted. The large black horns were gone, replaced by a broken, barely glowing halo; his golden wings laid limply on his back, covered in grime and mud; his beautiful face peppered with scratches and bruises blooming purple and green; but worse of all were the gaping holes on his chest, golden blood flowing freely from it. Adam tilted his head, an amused smile on his pale face. 

“You’re sick alright, but are you sure you got it from my girls?” Adam pointed at his heart, his fingertip almost touching Lucifer. “Ever thought it could be from inside?”

Suddenly, Lucifer’s vision became much clearer, there sat beside him was Adam, or at least, the last time he ever saw him, will ever see him. He laughed bitterly to himself, his reality dawning on him as the fog that clouded his head finally cleared up, leaving him with the bitter truth. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, his voice as light as a feather but more shattered than any broken mirror. “I let you die. I caused your death. But still, can I–” He pried one arm out of the blankets, desperately reaching out for Adam’s spectre, in a vain attempt to somehow anchor him to his side. However, as soon as his fingers got close, Adam’s image began to quickly fade away in faint shimmers of faded gold. He didn’t even manage to touch him. Adam’s golden eyes, cold and distant, was the last thing he saw, burning itself eternally in his mind to torment him in his unending life. 

“Get well soon, Lucifer,” Adam’s voice echoed faintly before disappearing altogether, forever. 

Lucifer closed his eyes, an uncomfortable warmth pooling in and around his eyes as he felt a wetness slide down his cheeks. This was simply another punishment from his Father.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Shades of Red

art in the cover by @ave661 and @shkretart !

chapter one | chapter two | ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you'll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won't. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;

A/N: Hello girlies! This is the very first time I get the courage to actually post something I wrote. I've been reading y'all fics behind my screen for so much time now I figured I could start postingggg; so please be gentle with the feedbacks, but be also sincere ♥ also, English is not my first language and although I'm fluent, there might be a mistake or two along the way. Don't feel shy in pointing it out if you see any! Moreover, this will be a long ass one I'm pretty sure, but I might get myself some more courage to post my smut oneshots in some near future. Hope you enjoy! x

Chapter 1 - The Incident | 3.3k

There was ash in the air everywhere. That scenario didn’t frighten him – in fact, Ghost was absolutely sure that at that point in his life, almost nothing could fright him. He had seen much worse things before, he thought silently as he walked towards the building completely destroyed. There was debris everywhere – the building had not collapsed completely, but some parts did not survive the flames and now there seemed to be not even a little bit of life in that place. There were still small portions of flames spread through a few heaps of debris, a terrible smell of wood and burnt concrete; but nothing of that could be worse than the smells of dead, flattered human flesh that once or again invaded his nostrils.

His eyes rolled around in search of any record of life. In vain, he knew: there was no chance that any civilian had survived that. A cruel, dark bombing, a violent and destructive terrorist act. The only goal was to destroy any form of life that could inhabit there, and possibly it had been obtained without any further circumstances. When Price sent the radio search order to all members of the 141, he made it very clear that those efforts were in vain. They would find nothing. We lost today, he said. We could not foresee this, nor can we remedy it. It was a burden they had to cope with on a daily basis - the often inability to do something, to act, was a burden that a soldier should carry. It was part of the job.

Ghost pressed the point button in his ear. “Is anyone listening?” He asked, his eyes checking the entire perimeter of the building behind the skull mask that covered his face. “Have you found something, LT?” Soap answered, his voice hushed by the efforts. “No. I’m making an entrance, there’s nothing out here.” the lieutenant stated, kicking off a few remaining pieces of concrete from the front of his feet and laying the rifle in his hands. Ghost stood in front of the main entrance to the building – that place that should have looked like a reception at some point in the near past - and the movement of his boots against the ground caused the roof above his head to shake a little, and some ash particles fell onto his helmet. He observed the movement, standing still for a few seconds, only for warranty; he did not want to end up becoming one more of those burial victims. 

When the concrete whisper finally stopped stirring his ears, he entered. The lamp of his helmet lit up, and he looked around. His eagle eyes did not lose an inch of that entire perimeter, his ears attentive as those of a bat. He was looking for a sign, whatever it was: a presence, a scream, voices, calls for help. Anything. Anyone.

All he could hear were the sounds of the structure of the building, apparently ready to give in. Ghost tried to enter one of the apartments; his boots sole hit the semi-destroyed grinded surface of the door, and he broke in. He looked around. An enormous smashed chandelier rested violently against the bloody body of a child. 

Many people said Simon was the type of man to have no feelings anymore. That time, scars and trauma had taken from him all and every kind of humanity. He had become a soldier—one of the good, one of the invincible, but nothing aside from that. Nothing but a soldier.

Perhaps that sentence became so repetitive that at some point, he, himself began to believe it. His face remained motionless. The sound of the blood drops hanging on the floor filled his ears, and he snorted for a moment, pressing the point into his ear. “First floor, apartment 102,” he said, coordinating other operators to head to start collecting the bodies. 

His eyes went up to the ceiling, facing the huge blunt in the structure that caused the luster to fall. Maybe the parents' bodies were still there somewhere to be found, he thought. But that wasn’t his job, and unfortunately he didn’t have all the time in the world. He then traced his steps out of the apartment, looking around. As he kept going upstairs, the lantern lit up one hand or another thrown out of a pile of debris. Broken legs, the kinds of horrors that haunt the dreams of ordinary people. 

As Price had said and as he imagined to be fact, there were no survivors. Even when he reached the last floor, without any hope that he would find any movement that were not spasms of lifeless bodies, he tried. He tried to find someone, to do his job with all the mastery he could. His voice echoed through the entire floor, looking for anyone who could answer, but as expected, there was no response.

All that was left was the subsoil, the garage. When he came down the lobby again and found a portion of the staff dragging out some bodies, placing them in black bags, one of the doctors caught his attention. “Lieutenant. Have you finished checking around? Nothing up there?” The man asked, pulling his glasses from the tip of his nose. Ghost is negative. “No, nothing,” he said bluntly.

The doctor seemed to bite his own jaw with some strength, in disappointment. He has baffled. “You don’t even have to check down there. If those above didn’t survive...” he said, giving on his shoulders. Ghost watched him in silence for a few seconds, before finally answering, “Focus on your work, doc. I’ll finish my own.” He said in a nod before starting to push with his crude hands the stones that covered the entrance to the stairs that led to the garage.

His steps echoed. Ghost walked through the parking lot, passed pillar by pillar, checked every car. There were bursting pipes releasing hot steam, a gas leak as well he could tell – and he didn’t want to be there to see what would happen if some kind of ignition occurred. He hastened his steps. He took a deep breath; he was about to press his point and give up, claiming that there were no survivors, but a stifling sound interrupted his action. He looked around, looking for the source of the heavy breath and the little grumbling of pain he heard. His eyebrows cracked almost instantly and he turned around himself, looking around. All his senses were activated at that moment – he began to walk through among the few cars there, following the sound he had heard and then, a hand hitting the air dropped debris to the side of what seemed to be a body. He approached cautiously, throwing the light from his helmet’s lantern in the direction of the sound, and to his surprise, although not perceptible, there was the only survivor of the bombing: you.

A small, female frame shrunk from a pile of debris. Your hair was covered in ashes, your face - the dirty cheeks with the blackness of the material, your arms painted in the scarlet of your blood flowing freely to the ground, glass blades attached painfully to your soft skin. There was a cut down from the top of your forehead until the beginning of your left eyebrow. The completely messy strands of your hair fell against your face, opaque, bright. The expression of fear on your eyes turned into pure terror the moment they met his own, those small cold orbs inside the mask. You instinctively tried to move away from him, push your body away from those debris, away from that huge and frightening man.

When you threw your body to the side, all you could feel was your back against the cold floor, your left leg refused to work. You felt nauseous, stupid, your head turned. Your mouth trembled in a failed attempt to say something, the silence already lasted for seconds enough for you to fear his frame standing ever so tall and quiet. “Please don’t hurt me.” You managed to say, your voice engulfed in a cry that refused to go out. It wasn’t as if it was going to work; if he was one of the terrorists who caused this incident and really wanted to hurt you, then you were at his mercy and there was little you could do about it.

Maybe, if you were in a better mental and physical condition, you’d be able to identify that the rifle in the hands of the man in front of yourself was of a military model. That all his gear pointed out that he was an operator, someone willing to help. Your mind could not process all the necessary information about him at the given moment, although.

“I will not hurt you, lass.” He explained, and for a moment you felt your chest swell in air and it was hard to contain the immense desire to cry. The heavy steps of the man were made against your small, wounded body. He lowered himself, letting the rifle rest next to him quietly. You gulped in dry, still nervous with your eyes raised to his, now a little closer to you. He wasn’t looking at you — he was looking down, seeming to assess how hurt you were. “I’ll tell you what’s happening now. Okay?” He asked, slowly and calmly, his cold eyes now facing your own, visualizing your soul behind the cover of this hurt shell of yours. You stumbled, and he continued. “I’ll take that away from you, and I need you to help me helping you. Alright? You will be well. I just need you to hold your leg and when I push it over, you roll. Understood?” The man asked, his firm and deep voice being the first source of human contact you had since the lightning caused you to wipe out unconscious hours before. You came in for confirmation.

Ghost nodded back and raised his fingers, counting to three. Contrary to what you might have imagined, he didn’t need to do much to lift the huge concrete block that blocked his left leg from moving — he even had some ease in doing so. He held the concrete above his body, his arms backed over you, he sat down. “Roll.” he commanded, and you obeyed as you could. You leaned her hands on the ground and gave a boost; one of your hands instinctively went to the wounded leg, in an attempt to warm up the pain now felt by finally having released it from the rubble. You couldn’t hold a moan of pain, but he was quickly stifled by the sound of concrete hitting the ground when Ghost let it fall back.

You mentally begged that you could endure that. Your eyes were filled with tears, and a certain despair arose through your throat, your mouth. The anguish of finally feeling the unpleasant smell of the environment, the nervousness of realizing that very possibly, few other people survived that disaster, it was overwhelming your already troubled mind. 

Ghost didn’t lose a second in time; he finished positioning the rifle around his body and you felt his arms wrapping you by the waist and the folds of your knees, and he lifted it up with immense ease – it was as if you were featherweight. The gloves in his hands were rough against the sensitivity of your skin, but his touch was as cautious as possible. You could say without a doubt that this soldier of at least twice your height was doing his best not to hurt you any more than you’re already wounded.

“What is your name?” He finally asked, his rifle resting on his back, and you resting over his arms. He wasn’t looking at you – his eyes were fixed ahead, in the direction he was carrying you to, the exit. You answered, and he nodded in acknowledgement. “You can call me Ghost. I am a soldier, yes? We will take care of you.” He said in a clear tactical attempt to calm your nervousness down.

You sat down with your head. “Amelie Miller... Did you find her? My friend, she... did you find her?” You asked, your body trembled as you came to realize his eyes were now boring into yours.

He seemed to look for words that would not hurt you as much as the ones he had to say, but he for one, was not good with words or comforting.

“I’m sorry, girl,” he whispered, in a sigh. “there are no more survivors. You were the only one.”

~ x ~

Your head hurt. Everything hurt; body, arms. There was a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water still sealed in your hands. The look in your eyes was empty, blurred; there were a lot of people there. Many doctors, many operators - soldiers like Ghost. One of them wore a mohican, the other had thick eyebrows. The captain was talking to them in an isolated corner, the doctors were talking to each other about your condition, about what should be done from now on. There were agents from the British intelligence surrounding the site, and there were about hundreds of black bags stretched on the floor, closed. You still felt pain, although the healings now prevented blood from flowing freely through your forehead as before. The glass pieces had been removed from your arms, your face was clean now and even so, you never felt so dirty in your entire life.

Every time you dare to blink, you could swear that you would faint. Your hands were getting weaker, loosening around the bottle. The sudden sound of the bottle falling to the ground caught the attention of one of the men there – the captain. As far as you could realize, he called himself something Price.

“Miss.” He said, coming closer to you. Suddenly, there were eyes on you from every angle possible; all of the other soldiers turned to the ambulance where you were sitting now. You slowly raised your face to look back at Price, and he continued. “I’m not going to ask if it’s okay, this question is rhetorical. You need to be hydrated.” He was bowing down in front of you, taking the bottle he dropped and opening it, offering it to you. Your eyes checked at the bottle for a few seconds and your trembling hand finally grabbed it, drinking until the last drop you could - all at once. You could feel your throat burning, your skin seemed to be in living flesh. The appearance of your wounds was not as unpleasant as the feeling of having them, but you knew that all that would leave you some ugly scars.

You could not care about it now – in fact, couldn’t care about anything at all. Your mind was empty and you never felt so apathetic in such a distressful situation. 

“What am I going to do now?” You asked, in a whisper, your eyes completely lost. “I—what am I going to do...?,” you repeated, and there was nothing but an absolute feeling of raw pain and loss in your voice right at that moment, for as much as you tried to hide it.

Price swelled his chest, and his lips compressed into a line. “You don’t have to worry about anything now. We’ll take care of everything,” he assured. “The government has a great defense program for disasters like this, you won’t be without a roof,” he finished, trying to calm you down. You closed your eyes and shaken your head, but you did not respond. There was nothing to say, nothing to do; what could be done besides trusting that everything would go well? Trust that they would have a plan for you, a shelter, doctors, a chance of living after you were supposed to die in such a horrific way?

You didn’t even know if you wanted all that. Didn’t even knew if you wanted to be the only survivor. Surely not: at that time, you would rather have died among the other more than a hundred people who were now in black bags scattered on the floor in front of you. You felt so much - you felt gratitude for their work, for saving you, but at the same time you couldn’t help but to feel like a fraud for surviving while other died. Others that, somewhat, deserved more than you to live. There was so much in your mind now, but little that you could really synthesize and make sense of.

You drowned your face between your hands, unable to cry, but wanting so deeply to hide from them, from those men, from doctors, from the press, from everything. Wanting to be away from everything, wanting to be dead for once.

A little further away, Ghost observed you. His broad arms crossed, his posture relentlessly perfect as always. His eyes looked at your gestures, scanned your body —all those wounds, poor girl, he thought. Although he was sure there was no more of a heart in his chest, he felt comprehensive towards your emotions. The horrors you had lived in such a short space of time, the unbearable consequences that that meant for your poor mind. The trauma. The pain.

He could not help but think that he saw a bit of himself in you. Not a bit of Ghost – a little bit of Simon. A little bit of the little Simon who felt an immeasurable strain in his chest, a void that could not be filled. 

When the doctors finally helped you to get up in the ambulance and sit on one of the available chairs, your face turned over your own shoulder and you found his eyes stuck to yours. It felt intimidating in some way; perhaps the way his confidence didn’t allow him to look away while you stared at him, or something in the way he seemed capable of reading right through you like a good book of his. He was a savior to you, and somehow it still seemed his persona was conflicting with the one of a savior. He was something else, perhaps still a benefactor, but somehow, a very dangerous man.

There was not a single feeling in his eyes, quite the opposite. There was pure coldness, and yours on the other hand carried some gratitude and ingratitude at the same time. You felt grateful that he had saved you, but at the same time, felt angry at him for not having let you die. You entered the ambulance, and your eyes continued to lock a gaze against his until the moment someone closed the car door from outside.

Ghost turned his eyes at last, and saw Price approaching.

“Fuck.” The captain whispered, laying his hands on his waist, looking at all the misfortune that the incident had caused to that place. “How many bodies?” He asked, looking at Simon with the corner of his eyes.

“A hundred and two so far.” Ghost answered quietly.

“And have you found the bodies of the sons of bitches who did this?” Price said with some disgust and hatred attached to his voice. Ghost assented positively, which made Price crack the dust almost instantly into a distressed expression.

“Motherfuckers.” He grunted, turning to the rest of the team. Soap, who had been remaining in silence for thorough all the search, dared to finally speak.

“We have a lot to report, hm?” He raised his eyebrows, and received a Price assent in response.

“To the headquarters." The captain ordered, making his way to the helicopter that awaited for them, and they left.

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

The Accident

Request: JJ got hurt when he crashed his motorcycle and he woke up to see the reader sleeping, head resting on her arms, on the edge of the bed. She’s had a crush on him for years, but never told him cause he liked Kiara since kindergarten.

Paring: JJ Maybank x reader

The screeching of metal on concrete vibrates through my mind as the scene plays on repeat. Kie’s sobs, Pope’s shouts for JJ to stop playing around, Topper and Sarah helping load JJ’s body back into the truck. JJ’s head resting on my lap, my fingers running through his blood matted hair, telling myself he is just asleep and we are on John B’s couch.

               The world is submerged underwater and my only focus is on the boy laying in front of me, my best friend. The whole idea behind getting the cross back was absurd, every moment of it. No other moment of my life has come close to the horror that chilled my bones watching the cops chase after JJ once getting Kie to safety in the truck.

               Rustling coming from the door frame snaps me out of my trance to find John B, Sarah, and Kie with hushed whispers. John B wasn’t with us on our failed heist and by the look in his eyes the girls are obviously catching him up to speed. We are supposed to be taking shifts so someone is here with JJ when he wakes up but I refuse to leave. JJ’s cousin checked him out and said he should be fine, but I can’t help but watch each rise and fall of his chest to be sure.

John B’s eyes meet mine and I can see the slightest rise of his eye brows at the scene he is witnessing. I duck my head back to JJ and ignore the heat rising on my cheeks. He is the only one who knows about my crush on JJ ever since a very embarrassing late night drunk conversation after everyone else passed out for the night. But we both know that JJ has been carrying a torch for Kie since kindergarten. JJ was most hurt during her kook year, taking a long while to forgive her, but now acts like it never happened.

JJ paces back and forth with joint in his hand. Pope and John B left with Kie to get provisions for her welcome back party. Only JJ is having a harder time letting go of the last year and I am trying to talk him down. I’m really hoping the weed kicks in soon, JJ is usually more open minded when he gets a nice relaxing dose.

“Y/N how could she just leave us like that and try to come back like nothing happened?!” JJ stops mid pace to look at me, waiting a real answer.

“JJ she explained everything. We were all mad and upset she froze us out. She’s sorry and she’s back. P4L right?”

               Honestly, with Kie’s abandonment I was hoping that JJ would get over his little crush and set his sights somewhere else. Ideally I would want his sights set more on me since I was the only girl in the group. I guess it takes a while to heal a broken heart. Everything went back to normal after that night.

“Y/N,” John B whispers from the doorway. I try to ignore him but he walks till he is standing directly behind me. Placing a hand on my shoulder he tries again. “Y/N, you need to get some rest. Or at least a shower.”

I shake my head as a sob builds in my throat.

“Please, shower at least. You still have his blood on your hands and your legs.” John B squeezes my shoulder, “I’ll stay here with him.”

               Relenting, I nod my head in agreeing with John B. I will my legs to get up and he swiftly takes my place, not letting me change my mind to reclaim my seat. Slowly I make my way out but pause at the door to look back at JJ. Just one more peak at his face before I make my way to the shower.

               On the sink one of the girls laid out some of their extra clothes for me to change into. A swirl of gratitude dances in my chest. It is the lightest I’ve felt since this terrible night started. Operating on autopilot, my hand turns on the water to the shower. I let it run to allow some time for it to warm up. Hot water here is hit or miss, but who can complain about running water.

               Tearing off my clothes one piece at a time my eyes lock on to the red coating my hands and thighs. You still have his blood on your hands and your legs. I run my hands over each other in attempt to rub it off. Not hard or fast enough. My hands move faster, I press harder. I move to my thighs. Small pieces flake off but not enough to make a difference.

               Tears patter against the tile floor breaking me out of my trance. I take deep breathes, 1…2…3… I count in my head. JJ is here, he is alive and he is going to wake up. Finally stepping in the shower the luke warm water cascades down my back and I can feel my muscles loosening. I quickly get to work on cleaning myself up and changing into the new set of clothes.

“He’s still asleep,” John B’s voice greets me without looking up from the ground.

               John B gets up to leave and I quickly reclaim my seat. I feel his presence linger at the door, not quite ready to leave. I can’t blame him, I don’t want to leave him either. JJ is my best friend, and I know John B feels the same.

“Have you thought about telling him yet?” I don’t answer him, which is an answer in itself. “When he wakes up you should.”

               His footstep leave toward the living room with the others. Tell JJ? Just so he can tell me I’m just his friend and that he still has a thing for Kie. To have him act weird around me for the rest of our lives. The thought of that happening is more unbearable than the idea of seeing him and Kie together and losing him in the process. At least I lose him because of her instead of losing him because of myself.

               My eye lids grow heavy as the last bit of adrenaline seeps out of my system. Maybe I should lay down for a bit, just rest my eyes. I’ll wake up before JJ does. Slowly I climb onto the side of the bed that JJ is not on. I loop my fingers in with his as I rest my head against the pillow.

For the rest you can decide how it ends:

Angsty/Sad Happy

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (12)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T (reference to prior acts) Words: 1.2k Summary: "Thanks." "Anytime."

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

He ain’t got no right to feel hurt.

After he’d come harder than he had in a century, spilling his seed across those soft thighs of hers, he’d tried to kiss her. He knew better, but for some reason thought it might be different after.

She’d rejected him, of course.

Why wouldn’t she? She was all smooth skin and cool blood, and she’d made her stance on kisses abundantly clear. But after that ride he was certain she’d change her mind. 

He was a damned fool.

He needs to get away, to shimmy out of this hole they were trapped in and get his bearings again. Put some distance between them. The deathclaw was long gone, no reason to keep hiding.

Except…

Except she was still panting under him, round breasts pressed to his chest with each inhale. He hadn’t imagined how wet she was for him, the way she’d come apart on his cock… nor had he imagined that other thing.

It was enough to drive a man to drink. 

Deciding discretion is the better part of valor he digs in his pocket, finding a scrap of cloth and using it to wipe the cum from her skin before it can begin to burn. “You’ll need a dose of Rad-Away,” he tells her and she turns back, blinking up at him in confusion for a moment before her lips part in a silent ‘o’.

“I didn’t even think about that.”

No she hadn’t, and she hadn’t considered that he was as liable to eat her as he was to fuck her once they were in those tight quarters. She’d trusted him implicitly, which was an idiotic thing to do.

“C’mon, let’s get out and see what’s going on.” He uses one hand to do up his trousers then slides past her, scooping his hat back up and glancing around. There’s footprints in the floor but no sign of any danger. He turns back to tell her as much but she’s already there, dress still pushed to her waist and looking like she’d just been ridden hard.

His mouth goes instantly dry.

She doesn’t meet his eye when she fusses with the straps of the dress and he steps forward without thinking, pulling one up and settling it on her shoulder with careful fingers. She shivers under his touch and he cups her neck, forcing her to look up at him.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s a terrible answer, one that gnaws at him as he steps away and fishes for his pack and gloves. He finds hers first, passing the bag her direction without a word. When he sets off again it’s parallel to the mountains they’re aiming for but she doesn’t say a word, keeping one step behind him.

The place he stops at for the night used to be a gas station, concrete on three sides with an easy vantage point from the front. They run off a mole rat and then he gives her the go ahead when she asks about a fire. The smell of roasted iguana fills the space while they sit silently across from each other.

“I wanted to.”

He cocks his head at her. They hadn’t exchanged more than three words in the last four hours.

“You asked why I… because I wanted to. Because I wanted you. Even though I shouldn’t.”

“Because I’m a ghoul,” he finishes for her with a scowl.

“Because I’m me and you’re…. you don’t know what I am.”

The bounty. He’d almost forgotten it. The poster was burning a hole in his pack and he’d all but decided to put off claiming it for at least a month. But she didn’t know that - didn’t know that he knew she was wanted by someone.

It was the perfect time to come clean - so of course he doesn’t. She continually surprised him and without knowing what her reaction was he wasn’t willing to risk it.

“I know you looked mighty pretty with my cock in you.” Her eyes fly to his and he grins, feeling himself warm when she laughs.

“It felt mighty pretty.”

That gets a laugh from him and he sets his hat aside and leans back against the rubble behind him. “Reckon it’s not what a filly imagines for her first time though, in the dirt like that.”

“You noticed.”

He snorts, “Damn hard not to.” 

Biting her lip she glances up at him from under long eyelashes before shaking her head. “You ever spent your whole life preparing to be one thing - only to realize you never really wanted it in the first place?”

He manages to keep his face impassive by a hairsbreadth. “I reckon I can imagine that.”

“I was… raised to be the perfect wife to someone. Be their partner, be only theirs… I never got to make any choices for myself. It was always someone else’s plan.” She pauses and stares down at her hands, “I never thought I would get to choose who my first time was with.”

“Don’t reckon you had much a choice as it was with my ass rutting on top of you.”

She gifts him with a wide smile, “Is that how you remember it?” When he doesn’t reply she continues, “If I’d told you no would you have stopped?”

“I like to think I would have but to be honest I don’t rightly know, hard to think when you’ve got a pair of tits in your face like that.”

The tension in the air breaks and she gives him a mock frown. “Excuse you, I believe it was your tits in my face.”

“And I seem to recall you were having a mite of trouble yourself with keeping your thoughts straight.”

You both break into soft laughter. Silence fills out the space for a few minutes, the only sounds the crackling of the fire.

“Thank you.”

He nearly chokes on his tongue. A dozen jokes leap to mind but she’s not meeting his eyes. He lets it sit before finally replying, “Anytime, darling.” The arch of her neck calls to him and he coughs suddenly, taking a hit of chem.

“I don’t think we should,” she says with a small frown. “It’s dangerous.”

“Shit, you take that Rad-Away yet?”

Her eyes go wide with panic and he pushes himself to his feet, squatting next to her and taking the pack she offers. She doesn’t hesitate to offer her arm, not flinching when he slides the needle in. He sets the meds above her head and flicks the tube until he’s satisfied it’s moving.

Oh, but those big bright eyes of hers are staring up at him like he hung the moon in the sky and he’s already forgotten what had him so irritated all afternoon.

“Thanks,” she says again.

“Anytime.”

He doesn’t move, hovering over her, and she doesn’t ask him to. After a moment she reaches up and tugs at his coat, pulling him to sit next to her and then leaning into his shoulder. A million different thoughts war within him before he does the thing he most wants, which is to wrap an arm around her and pull her against his side.

“Sleep,” he tells her. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[dreadsuitsamus]

cw: smoking, choso x reader

follow up fic

i was just thinking about my first kiss and how it was with somebody i now hate and wish i never met. this kiss itself was short and nothing about the buildup was special or sweet or anything. it was a nothing kiss, and even back then i knew it wasn't good. and then i got to thinking about being at a gathering with some friends, choso being one of them, and one conversation leading to another until you're all telling stories about your first kiss.

it's your turn to go, and when you grimace rather than fondly reminisce like the others had, everyone notes it. "mine sucked." your answer, miniscule and somehow giving all the details, is quickly accepted and the focus is turned to the next in the circle.

choso's blushing, his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose dusted pink, and he doesn't meet anybody's eyes as he explains his first kiss. it was an accident, they hadn't meant to kiss at all, but some mixed signals and coincidental body language led them straight to it. it was nice during, though terribly awkward after the fact.

you can't help but use your friend's embarrassment to ease your spirits and laugh with the rest of the group. playfully bumping your shoulder to his, you giggle. "noted. don't ever try to open a door for you."

choso groans and covers his face, falling onto his back while your friends get another laugh going. leaning on your forearm as the next story gets going, you poke at choso's hands that still hide his handsome blush. "ease up, cho. it's not that bad."

"it was pretty bad." he mumbles, peeking through his fingers at you.

looking away from those pretty eyes, you pick at his sweater. "couldn't be any worse than mine. at least the person you kissed really liked you."

choso sighs softly and his hands come down from his face. his fingers graze your chin and jaw as he encourages you to look at him again. not needing a ton of convincing, you're met with almost sad amber eyes. "it was with him, wasn't it?"

nodding, you look away again and choso sits back up. him. none of your friends use his name, ever, but you all know exactly who they're talking about when they say that. you're grateful he isn't spoken of much and that there's no love for one of their former friends remaining, but the scars on your heart and perhaps even to your soul remain. you'll never forget that ex. how could you? you gave him your all.

"i'm gonna go get some air." you announce after a while, and choso ends up following you to the back porch after a moment. it's cold and dark out, the light by the door only illuminating but so much with that old bulb.

he sits beside you, his ass thoroughly chilled already by the concrete steps. tugging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he feels around for his lighter. he almost starts to panic, but your laughter has his eyes narrowing with an unimpressed glower. "very funny. give me my lighter back."

ignoring his murmur of "how did you even get it from my pocket? when??" once you've given it back and allowed him to light the cigarette, you rest your cheek against your fist with a slump in your shoulders. choso's hand rests on your back and he soothingly rubs at it, doing his best to ease you. "hey, relax. there's gonna be other first kisses."

"they're not gonna make me forget the first one, though."

"okay sure, you won't forget. nobody forgets the first. but... there's gonna be a better first. one that's good, one that will make you smile and happy to think about even if the relationship never pans out. and that can be your first good kiss story. nobody's gotta know the difference."

"i haven't even kissed anybody since him." you murmur quietly. it's been a couple years since that disaster went to the wayside, but you haven't found anyone you're willing to take another plunge with yet.

choso sets the cigarette down beside him, his long fingers touching your jaw once more. this time, though, he leans in and presses his cold lips to yours. he tastes like cigarettes initially, but when your arms come around his neck and it deepens, there's a sweetness there that you can only equate to freshly-picked strawberries.

"there," choso's eyes are still closed when you part, and your foreheads press together. he can't see the way you look at him, with admiration and adoration and nothing but pure love, but he can feel it. "your first good kiss. and with somebody that really does like you."

"cho..." your lips tingle as he checks the time on his watch. the hour ticks to midnight, and he kisses you a second time. this one is longer, sweet as a stolen peach and even better than the last, if it's possible. you're light as air and it's those big arms of your longtime friend that keeps you from floating off into space.

there's a bit of a squelch when you part this time, heavy breaths mixed together as your lungs burn. licking those reddened, kiss-swollen lips, choso pulls back and picks up his burning cigarette. "and that's your first kiss of today. and i'll kiss you tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. you'll never have a bad first kiss again, as long as i can help it."

biting your lip through a grin that would reveal all your true feelings to him, you tuck your chilly hands into your sweater sleeves and stand up to head inside. "thanks, cho... um..."

choso stands tall, his hand finding your hip as he plants another kiss onto your lips. "your first good kiss standing up?" his lame explanation is accepted, and you cup his sharp jaw in your hands as you resume the smooch.

once you're back in the house and warming up, choso flicks the cigarette butt and lights another. there's so many firsts he's got to cover! the first in your room, your car, before you go to work and after, and of course every day of every week, month and year... everyone remembers their first, and he intends to be all you can think of the next time somebody asks about your first kiss.

[last-starry-sky]

KATE the way you left it! I’ll be honest. He can watch us have the most sensual, passionate kiss and go down on each other but if he touches her, I’d explode with jealousy. I’m a hypocrite 💀 does asshole Simon just want to get back at us and make us jealous in a threesome?? (thank you for your lovely writing 💕)

*rubs my greedy hands together like a bug* oooooh boy :)

ghost/bi!reader/f!oc (no name used, so she can be read as another reader insert but w/e)

[MDNI - NSFW: 4.2k, weird jealous simon being a creep , pet-names, oral, slight dub-con elements but both girls just roll with it so ymmv, forced m/f/f threesome, dirty talk, light d/s elements, Simon and oc talk you through it, unprotected piv, cumming on the outside, hand-job, implied cum eating. ]

thank u btw! sorry this took almost a month! i really wanted to give this a good part 2!

You don’t know what made you want to sink directly into the concrete more: Simon staring at you, leaning one arm cooly out the window, eyes hard and disappointed as they sweep once up your form taking in your short shorts and skin-tight tank top. His jaw is clenched so hard you think he’s going to crack a tooth. It makes you want to cry, beg, run toward him and explain it’s all a mistake. That you didn’t mean it. It’s not what it looks like.

Or, the terrible pit that opens in your stomach as his eyes drift ever so subtly to the women curled around your back. Her hands grab at your thighs, vining up to your waist, before giggling in your ear as she hugged your chest and rest her head on your shoulder. There’s a glint in Simon’s flint-hard eye, a softness to his lips that he tried to hide with a cough and stubborn turn of his head, but you saw it. You almost wish you didn’t. Maybe it was just the way she swayed her hips behind you, dress glittering in the streetlight. 

“Sooooo,” she said leaning hard on her words, sounding more drunk than she actually was, “this is your guy?”

Simon’s fingers drummed against the side of the door as his dark eyes were turned back at you, staring through his brow. There was not a hint of impatience in the action. 

“Yeah,” you answered turning your head to the woman behind you, wary of breaking eye contact with Simon. “Kinda. We-”

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “just so you know, my offer stands.” She hugged you closer before whispering in your ear.  “Do you need me to get you out of here?”

You shook your head. You didn’t think Simon would hurt you, or her, but you hated for a great evening to be ruined.

“Oi!” Simon called out, lightly smacking the outside of the car door to get your attention. “Not waiting all night like a bloody taxi. Get in.” Then, after a long moment looking the pair of you over, tacked on, “Both ‘f you.”

“You don’t-” you tried to tell the woman behind you, but she was already twining her arm around yours, leading you to your car. 

She gave Simon a smug, celebratory smile as she bounced past him, dress shimmying alluringly around her body as she hauled you behind her. She turned to you as she opened the door, letting go of your hand and pulling you in by the small of your back for a quick kiss. You could feel Simon’s hot stare on you as she lingered on your lips for just a bit too long.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said before ducking into the car.

You followed quickly behind her. Simon had the drivers seat pulled all the way back to fit his long legs, so you squished into the middle seat, close to your new “friend”. 

“Cuddle up, baby,” she giggled, pulling your legs into her lap. “Plenty of room.”

You heard Simon grunt out an exasperated noise as he jerked the car back out into the lane, swerving angrily around the smokers loitering outside the club. Your heart pounded as he sped down the dark, busy road, zipping in between cars with little concern as to how much he was throwing the two of you around in the backseat. 

“Okay?” she whispered as held you, soothingly stroking her hands down your back as you rocked to and fro until you relaxed into her shoulder. 

You nodded, lifting up your head to hug her. She sighed as your cheeks pressed together, hands drifting to your hips, letting her fingers trace the frayed hem of your shorts. She smelled so good. She must have dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, because your nose lit up with the bright, spicy scent of oranges. You turned your lips to her cheek, inhaling it, and she moaned a rough “oh”, hands curling into the skin of your thigh. 

You only intended to press a kiss, just one, to her neck, but that turned into a line of open kissed up to her cheek. You didn’t need Simon noticing. The woman underneath you had other plans. She turned her face to meet you, capturing your lips. She filled your mouth with lemon and seltzer and the dry, piny, acidity of gin. You couldn’t help but melt into it, chase after it, lick it wildly from her mouth. When you palmed at her breast under the glittery, nubby fabric, startling away as she moved. She broke the kiss to moan against your mouth. 

“Again. Please,” she whispered, dark and needy, placing your hand back on her chest.

A car screamed around you, horn blaring. Simon swerved the car back and forth, throwing you onto your back against the opposite seat with her on top of you.

“Keepin’ y’ own fuckin’ lane!” Simon shouted out the window. “Fuckin’ cunt. Learn t’ fuckin’ drive,” he said hoarsely, slamming his palm down on your poor steering wheel. 

The woman on top of you giggled into your neck. You looked up in time to see Simon’s eyes narrow in on yours in the rear view mirror. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

“Wha’s so fuckin’ funny back there?” he growled. You heard him hit the turn signal, slow down, and pull over into the left turn lane. 

She pulled her head up slightly, body shaking as she tried to contain her laughter. 

“Distracting you?” she asked before collapsing back into your neck, giggles bubbling out.

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he went back to watching traffic. 

She didn’t stop kissing you the rest of the ride. Even the change from Simon zipping down the busy, downtown streets to the slow crawl down the narrow roads of your neighborhood didn’t register. You were too busy tweaking her nipples through her dress, and then under her dress, while she rutted against your thigh.

It wasn’t until Simon opened the car door that you came crashing back to reality. The both of you looked up at him as he glowered down at you. Your view was upside down, making him look so much taller and intimidating. The way he leaned that stocky, muscled body of his against the car door while he waited, the same body that filled out those stupid light wash jeans and baggy hoodie, it made you want to push up his shirt to see those muscles he had sent you pictures of all those months ago. 

You blushed. You hated how horny he made you, how you still wanted him after what an asshole he’d been since his arrival. 

“Out,” he commanded, stepping back as you lost the warmth on top of you. 

You detangled from each other before shuffling out under Simon’s heavy gaze. He leaned against the door, arms crossed, his bulk pushing the frame slightly to the side. You couldn’t meet his stare as you waited in the cool night air for the other woman to get out. When she did, it was sensual, lurid, like she was still putting on a show. She didn’t give even a glance over to Simon. Instead, she pressed herself to you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“Thanks for a great time tonight,” she said sliding her hands down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful as she bit her lip.

Then she turned to Simon. You turned your head with her, catching him as he palmed the front of his jeans. 

That was nothing. Probably, absolutely, nothing.

“Want me to umm . . .” she said coquettishly, batting her eyelashes as she trailed her hands back up your body, uncaring that she pulled your shirt up too. “. . . call an Uber?” She finished her sentence with a press forward into your breasts that made you shiver. “Don’t want to intrude if you two-”

“Get inside,” Simon commanded before popping off the side of the car and walking toward your backdoor, leaving no room for argument as he left you looking at one another. 

You waited for your backdoor to slam closed behind Simon to say anything.

“You can leave if you want,” you said pulling away until it was just your hands cupping her cold shoulders. “I had a great time. I really did, but I should, you know,” you tipped your head toward the house, “clear things up with him.”

“You sure?” she asked sadly.

“Yeah,” you said letting your eyes and body drift away. 

You tried to search for the right way to phrase your thoughts, but came up empty. The details of his life you’d been able to pull from your conversations had been brief, but always harrowing. It felt wrong to divulge to a near-stranger what little he’d told you. It was a lonely, bleak life he lived, with so much was still sealed away, secret, buried deep deep in the past. Maybe that was why you’d let him attach to you, why you’d still let him in after how he treated you. He was a old, abused dog of a man. Anyone else would have turned him away, but your heart was soft, always too soft. Even if it ruined this little bit of happiness, you’d give him another chance. 

“He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good guy. Funny,” you finally said as her hand curled back around yours.

“Then I’ll stay,” she said resolutely, smiling as she pulled you toward the door. 

The two of you stumbled through the dark kitchen, hands already roaming, trying to touch each other through your clothes as you stifled your laughter. She let you lead from here. You pulled her backwards, down the narrow hall of your little one-floor bungalow, past the bathroom and guest bedroom you had set Simon up in. Both were dark. 

It did cross your mind for a moment, as she was biting at your top lip and pawing at your face, that you didn’t know exactly where Simon was, but the thought evaporated as you pushed her against your bed. She pulled herself up and then you on top of her. Both of your shoes clattered to the floor along with your shorts.

“Want you,” she moaned against your lips, pulling your shirt off. “So bad. Just, please, touch me, however you want.”

You hiked her dress up and off, slipping your hands underneath her panties at her hips. She sighed as you pulled them down. She was fucking beautiful, pussy absolutely drenched and quivering, waiting impatiently for you. You liked how clear she was with you, communicating as best as she could even this turned on. Still, you were more than a little nervous with what you had to say.

“I’ve, um . . . never done this before-,” you whispered, trailing your hand hesitantly across her mons.

She placed her hand on yours and pushed you down, forcing your fingers through her slick folds. Oh, she felt just heavenly. It made you squirm a bit yourself. 

“Just do what feels good for you,” she instructed breathlessly, jumping as you circled her clit.

You nodded, letting her shuffle up the bed to give you room. She let you lead again, falling back against the mattress, allowing you to position her legs as you got in a comfortable position. 

Your first lick up her slit was light and experimental. Fuck did she taste good, though: sweaty and briny and real. You dove in again and again, listening to her light sighs as she curled her fingers in your hair. When you got lucky and had someone eat you out, (god it had been so long) you liked it when they started slow and built you into your orgasm. You did the same for her, tongue light as you swirled around her clit, leaning in to suck at it just to hear her breathy moan. You hoped she would like it.

You jumped as a blunt finger traced up the seam of your pussy through your underwear.  

“Gon’ make her cum, lovie?” 

You whipped your head around, gasp falling from your mouth. Simon was leaning over the bed, his body only visible from his chest up like he was materializing out of the dark like some sort of specter.

You tried to turn, to cover yourself, anything, but it was no use. He drew himself further out of the shadows to kneel on the bed behind you. The hand on your pussy planted itself between your shoulder blades, pushing your face back down into the cunt in front of you.

“Finish ‘er off. Don’t pay me no mind,” he said low and dark, saddling up behind you.

You flicked your eyes up to the woman in front of you, nervous as to what she would think of this. To your surprise her hungry, low cast eyes were on Simon. She bit her lip and tossed her head to the side before looking back down at you as her hand crawled back to the crown of your head. 

It spiked something in you, that look she gave him. It made you think back to all of the other long glances they had shared. What was going on between them? You’d assumed it was simple jealousy, a silly fight for dominance, for you. What ever it was, it made you dive back into her pussy with a renewed purpose. You had wanted her to come before, of course, but now you needed her to come. You needed to prove yourself to her, to feel her come undone with just your lips and tongue. You needed Simon to see you do it with equal measure.

Fingers curled in your hair and the woman below you shallowly bucked up into your mouth, a long low moan following. You almost didn’t feel Simon unclasping your bra. 

“Tha’s it. Doin’ good. Keep goin’, lovie. Can see her legs shakin’, right? Know she’s close,” Simon commented. His voice was suddenly very close to your ear now that he was leaning over your back, rutting his jean-clad cock against the cleft of your ass.

All you cared about was those words. She’s close. You could feel it. Her whole core was shuddering against you. Poor, empty pussy clenching against nothing as you sucked on her clit, tongue lapping again and again at the sweet juice that poured from her.

She came suddenly with the cry of a high-pitched oh! as she rode your face, nails biting into your scalp. You stole a look up at her head thrown back against your pillow, the long column of her neck shimmering with sweat. She looked so beautiful. You worked her through it, slowly swirling your tongue around her pulsing clit until she let out a overstimulated whine.

You had wanted to crawl up into her arms after, to hold her and have that sweet moment of pillow talk before letting her fall asleep. Simon didn’t let you have that. He hauled you up against his chest. You thumped against his dark, solid mass that he almost knocked the breath from you. One hand kept you braced to his chest while the other wiped her slick from your mouth, petting your glossy lips with something resembling intimacy.

“Feel better now, hmm?” he asked, tipping your jaw up roughly to force you to face him. “Taste some pussy and now y’ ready to behave f’ me? Spoiled girl.”

You didn’t let you answer him before he set to work. The hand on you chest pulled your loose bra off your arms. One task done, he continued downward to slip a hand past the band of your panties. His large fingers skimmed straight to your dripping hole, ignoring your aching clit. You squirmed as he circled your entrance with those devastatingly large fingers. 

“She do good?” he asked the blissed out woman in front of you, still forcing your head to face him. 

“Mmm hmmm,” you heard her hum, sliding herself leisurely down the pillows until she was beneath you. “Really good for her first time.”

Without warning, he let go of you, leaving the woman below you to catch you. She sighed happily as she hugged you to her chest, pet your hair, and peppered your face with little kisses. Simon tossed his shirt off before pulling the back of your underwear to the side. He kicked your legs wide enough for him to fit his legs between yours with a single low huff of a laugh. 

“Should reward y’ then, huh? Give you that dick y’ve been beggin’ for since I bloody fuckin’ got here?” he said sarcastically, a finger plunging suddenly into you. 

You smothered a whine in the crook of her neck. Simon groaned, pumping the finger in and out, lewd, wet squelching filling the room.

“Fuckin’ wet,” he said breathless, leaning on his words. He bent over you again, large hand pressing an extreme arch into your back as he spoke into your ear. “Get this wet makin’ me watch? Thinkin’ you can make me jealous enough I’d finally fuck y’ proper?”

You answered with a muffled whine, smashed between the bodies under and on top of you. 

You heard Simon unzip his jeans. You expected to feel some part of his skin not long after. When you didn’t, you turned your head to investigate. Your eyes went wide at what you saw. The woman below you, the one you had made out with and eaten out in front of your quasi-unofficial boyfriend, the one that you had unwittingly set up as a rival to this intimidating, mountain of a man, was stroking gently at his face. 

They stared each other down with lusty, hooded eyes for a moment, unsure how this would end. Your mouth fell open as you watched Simon’s eyes flutter shut before leaning in the last few inches to seal his mouth over hers. A blush bloomed over your cheeks as a sudden understanding filled you. This is what it was like to watch someone you liked make out with someone else. To be on the outside looking in. You could only imagine what hell you’d put Simon through tonight. A small pain twisted in your stomach. The hard part was, you liked both of them. You really did, but there was something about your exclusion that made you feel the bite of a certain green-eyed snake.  

Simon was the one who pulled away, a delicate string of saliva connecting their open mouths. It made you whine and squeeze her arm with want. You wanted that. 

“Quit whinin’,” he mumbled, hauling himself back up.

Hands beneath you grabbed at the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading you wide. She giggled as she presented your leaking holes to the man behind you. Good god, they were working together now. 

Simon groaned as you felt his cock tap once, twice against your ass before notching the head at the entrance to your pussy. He pushed in fully, without waiting, with another breathy groan. You held the woman below you as a pitiful squeak ripped from your chest. 

She pet your hair as she cooed, “Aww, is he too big, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Simon settling the full length of his cock inside you stole the last of your brain power. 

She giggled again, her hands sliding up your back as Simon’s large hands settled in their place. They both held you down as he began to fuck relentlessly into you, the weight and curve of his cock forcing you fully, deliciously open, knocking at your cervix with every thrust. 

“I bet he is,” she purred in your ear. “Looks like a big boy. Acts like it, too.”

Every impact of his hips forced an involuntary, choked moan from your throat. Your hands gripped tight in the sheets. It’s all you could do as he pounded his full length into you again and again and again.

“Been waitin’,” Simon huffed, rough and deep, as he leaned over you. The change of position made you keen into the mattress. “Been waitin’ f’ this since, fuck,” he said losing his train of thought in his rhythmic slide in and out of the clutch of your cunt.

You knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was the night you finally sent him a dirty picture. It was only because you were drunk and he had promised to send more of his bare skin in return. The picture itself was shit. Dark and grainy, thanks to your shitty phone camera and mirror, but you were still in your bra and panties, leaning over the foot-board of your bed to get a good angle, and that was all he had asked for.

He didn’t respond for about an hour, which made you nervous. You spent most of that hour convinced he hated what he saw. Finally, you made yourself send him a single question mark followed by “you good?” just to make sure he was still alive.

“fuck love” he had responded, followed by a picture of his cum painting the palm of his hand, the leg of his tan pants, and spotting the floor if you could trust your eyes and his equally shitty photo. “more than good”

You’d fallen into a blissful sleep after that, waking up to the best text you’d ever received. 

“can’t wait to get my hands on you”

Now here he is, finally railing you into the bed like you’d wanted. It’s impatient, sloppy, and little too rough, but fuck it, he’s here. You can feel all of his frustration pouring into you, the long, exhausting months spent on the job without the time for basic needs, let alone time to beat off. 

Something tripped in your brain. There had always been this desire to please within you. A need to give and give and give but never take. There was something about how mercilessly he was fucking you that made you melt. You weren’t just taking it, you wanted it. 

He pulled out of you suddenly, one big hand rolling you on to your back. You flopped onto the mattress, slightly to the right, but still on top of the other woman. Her hands and legs wound around you, spreading you open and squeezing at your tits as Simon worked himself to completion.

“On her pussy,” she sighed, a hand coming down to rub at your neglected clit. “Do it, Si. She’ll look so pretty coated in your cum.”

He followed her command to the letter, eyes pinching shut as he came with a moan, falling onto one hand as rope after rope of his spend shot across your splayed open sex.

Wow, you thought. He really had cum that much. 

He pulled himself back upright with a groan, wiping his hand on the sheets below him. The fingers on your pussy didn’t stop as you’d expected, though. You shivered and whined as she expertly wound you tighter and tighter, orgasm fast approaching.

“Can I finish her?” she asked Simon, voice breathy as she watched her fingers work his warm, sticky cum around your nub. “Been so good to us. Think she deserves it.”

You looked up at Simon, eyes wet and pleading as whines after pitiful whine fell from your mouth. Fuck did you want to cum so bad. She had you teetering on a knife’s edge, just a few more targeted swipes and you would be there.

He nodded silently, smoothing his hands down your legs as he watched. You let your head roll to the side as she began to work tight circles over the exposed head of your pearl. 

You opened your mouth to cry out as you came, but a mouth covered yours. You shuddered as his tongue slowly licked into your mouth, absorbing your cries. It was more than you could take. You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you curled your arms around his neck. When he pulled away you cried out his name as you fell from your peak.

“Si. Si. Si.”

He pecked a final kiss to your top lip before falling to your side with a groan. Your head was still floating, but that made you pliant, moveable enough for him to pull you over against his chest. Feeling something missing, you reached out, grabbing at nothing until you felt a body slide into your arms with a muffled, contented laugh. 

“Right here, baby,” she said, popping her fingers out of her mouth to kiss your forehead. “Not going anywhere.”

A moment of silence fell as you all caught your breaths. Simon felt like a rock behind you. You assumed he had fallen asleep. The woman laying next to you was just as sleepy as you, heavy eyes fluttering shut as her chest began to rise and fall slowly and rhythmically. 

“‘s fine by me,” Simon mumbled into your hair, “Din’ plan on lettin’ either ’f y’ go.”

a/n: thank u, first of all, to my kind, patient anon who started all this. u da best ❤️ I hope you like this! i also can't believe i wrote my first non-straight fic in pride month, lmao. Now to get part 3 of Girl's Night Out finished for my anniversary!!!

[introvertllux]

Meet the Wayne’s Chapter 4: Fault Lines

I DON’T claim the rights to batman only the black!OC. Also this is pure fiction and NOT my thoughts on marriage or family at all.

Word count: 6703

Third Person P.O.V

The darkness of the Batcave barely registers tonight; it swallows him, its depths closing in as jagged memories claw through his mind, vivid and merciless.

He’s back in the chaos of the orphanage grounds, the moments after the explosion crashing into his senses. The blast hits him with relentless force, a wall of fire and shrieking metal tearing him from his family. Heat sears his skin; the raw, bitter tang of smoke and dust fills his throat, his vision flickering in and out of focus as the world twists into a blurred nightmare. A metallic taste sits thick on his tongue, the stench of burning debris choking every breath. Somewhere nearby, he hears the cries of panicked children, the dull thud of falling concrete, a cacophony of pain and confusion.

And in the epicenter of it all, he sees her—Scarlett, encased in a sickly, pulsing glow. His vision sharpens for a second, taking in the unnatural pink light radiating from her hands, illuminating her figure in the smoke-filled ruins. For a heartbeat, she is both familiar and terrifying, her skin emblazoned with symbols he doesn’t recognize—ancient, jagged symbols that coil around her body like hungry vines, each line bright and alien, pulsating as if they’re alive, twisting through her skin, binding her to something unspeakable. He can’t look away, horrified as she lifts her hands and the pink light spreads, expanding into a protective shield around the boys, shimmering with raw, arcane energy.

The symbols shift and flare, seeming to grow, searing themselves deeper into her skin until she looks less like the woman he knows and more like a creature out of a nightmare. Tendrils of light coil from her fingers, threading through the air, wrapping around their sons in a way that is both protective and horrifying, as if something monstrous is holding them close. His sons’ faces are wide-eyed, pale against the crimson haze of the chaos around them, their expressions reflecting his own fear, their voices swallowed by the explosion’s aftershock.

A flash of blinding pink light, and he’s thrown backward, hitting the ground with a force that cracks through his bones. He hears the world distantly, as if through water—the sound of Scarlett’s voice, strange and resonant, mingling with the low hum of power that feels like it’s bleeding into the very air. His head spins, pain rocketing through his body, and when he lifts his gaze again, she is still there, a vision of otherworldly power, the symbols now pulsating like a heartbeat. Every blink brings a new nightmare into focus—the symbols writhing across her skin, her eyes blazing with the same light, unnatural, almost… inhuman.

What has she become?

___________________________________________________________

Back in the Batcave, Bruce’s fists clench until his knuckles burn, his mind trapped between fury and a creeping sense of horror. It replays again and again, each time worse, each time clearer—the symbols, those terrible, glowing brands that marked her skin, the strange, almost reverent way they seemed to pulse with each of her breaths. And the power, raw and unearthly, wrapping around their sons with the force of an invisible hand.

The woman he thought he knew, his partner, his wife—she had stood amidst that chaos wielding powers he couldn’t begin to understand, forces that defied every rational rule he lived by. He realizes, with a cold dread creeping into his bones, that he’s been blind. Blind to the secrets she carried, to the darkness woven into her past. What else has she kept from him? What else is buried beneath the surface, concealed by her quiet words, her careful facade?. Questions swirl and harden into something cold, focused, and selfishly determined. He will have answers.

The moment Bruce storms into the manor, his fury is a palpable force, chilling the room as he enters. Shadows cling to him like a cloak, and each stride crackles with barely restrained rage. He’s singularly focused, almost feverish, every thought consumed by one need: answers. He has no concern for his sons’ well-being, no space in his mind to wonder how they’re handling the aftermath. The only obstacle between him and Scarlett’s secrets stands before him—Alfred.

In the dim light of the sitting room, Alfred stands protectively, the boys gathered around him like soldiers waiting for orders. They’re watching Bruce with uncertainty, tension radiating from each of them, but Bruce barely registers their presence. His face is a mask of cold resolve as he stares down Alfred, his jaw clenched, fists tight.

“Where is she, Alfred?” His voice cuts through the silence like a blade, each word sharp, deadly, and laced with venom.

Alfred’s expression shifts almost imperceptibly—a flicker of concern that doesn’t escape Bruce’s notice and only stokes his anger further. “She’s resting, Master Bruce,” Alfred replies, his tone calm, steady. “I’ve advised her to take time to recuperate, to let the—”

“I don’t care about rest.” Bruce’s voice rises, tinged with bitterness and barely restrained fury. “I need to talk to her. Now.”

Alfred’s gaze hardens, and there’s a steely resolve in his eyes as he meets Bruce’s. “With all due respect, sir, now is not the time. She’s been through more than you know. Let her rest.”

The betrayal twists in Bruce’s gut like a knife, the mere fact that Alfred—his oldest confidant—would stand between him and the truth, protecting Scarlett’s secrets instead of him. Him. The man who trusted Alfred above all else.

Bruce steps forward, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl. “Alfred, I have every right to know what my own wife has been hiding from me. You don’t get to decide that.”

Alfred’s gaze remains steady, unflinching, calm as a stone in a storm. “And yet, Master Bruce, I fear pressing her now will only push her further from you. Perhaps… patience—”

“Patience?” Bruce’s voice is a raw, incredulous whisper, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles go white. “I watched her wield something beyond our world, Alfred. Symbols, light, things that have no place in this family. And you’re telling me to wait?” His eyes narrow, his voice a bitter accusation. “What else are you hiding from me?”

The tension between them is thick, suffocating, but the boys have had enough of watching silently.

“Maybe now isn’t the time, Dad,” Dick says, breaking the silence with a calm but pained voice. He steps forward, his gaze steady but pleading. “Mom’s been through a lot. Pushing her like this is only going to make everything worse.”

Jason scoffs, his arms crossed, a look of pure disdain on his face as he stares at Bruce. “Right, because ignoring everything has worked so well in this family.” He takes a step forward, his voice simmering with resentment. “Isn’t that how you work, Dad? Keeping everything buried under secrets, shoving us out whenever it’s ‘inconvenient’?”

Bruce’s eyes narrow, but Jason doesn’t flinch. The anger in his voice spills out with years of pent-up rage. “Funny. You act like you’re all about honesty, trust, family—but you’re just as much of a liar as she is. More, even. And you know it.”

Bruce’s jaw tightens, his voice coming out as a dangerous hiss. “This isn’t about secrets for the sake of it, Jason. This is about our safety. Your safety.”

Jason’s face twists with fury. “My safety? Are you kidding me? You know what’s not safe? Sending your kids out to fight psychos and maniacs every other night. You care more about Gotham than you ever did about us. About me.” His voice cracks, anger boiling over. “If she’s keeping secrets, it’s only because she knows that you’re incapable of dealing with anything you can’t control.”

Bruce glares at Jason, but he can feel the weight of all their eyes on him, each gaze a silent accusation.

Tim clears his throat, his voice careful but challenging. “But maybe there’s a reason she didn’t tell you, Dad. You’ve always been against… anything you can’t control. I don’t blame her for hiding it.”

Bruce’s gaze snaps to Tim, his fury mingling with a sense of betrayal that makes his voice icy. “I trusted her,” he snaps. “I trusted all of you. And now I find out that each one of you would rather protect her secrets than respect my right to know what’s happening in my own family?”

“Your family?” Damian’s voice is cold, almost mocking, as he crosses his arms. “Funny. You talk about family like you know what it means, but you treat us like soldiers. Like pieces on a chessboard you can push around and sacrifice when it’s convenient.” His words are bitter, razor-sharp. “Mother has her reasons, I’m sure. And if you can’t handle it, maybe that’s the issue.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow dangerously as he turns to Damian, his voice dropping to a deadly tone. “What I can’t handle is betrayal. Your mother has been lying to us—for years. You don’t keep something like this from your family.”

A scoff cuts through the room. “Family?” Duke says, his tone thick with disbelief. “You keep talking about family, but all you ever cared about is Gotham. You think being Batman gives you a free pass to ignore us, to push us out of your life and call it protection.” He takes a step forward, his voice steady but angry. “You weren’t even there when Jason—” Duke glances at Jason, his voice faltering, then regains his resolve, “when any of us needed you. And now you’re mad that she tried to do what you never did?”

Bruce’s fists clenched tighter, his face twisting with bitterness. “So this is all my fault?” He spits, his voice almost a snarl. “I put my life on the line every day to protect all of you. And this is what I get? Accusations? Disrespect?”

Dick steps forward, his face tense, his voice strong but filled with hurt. “No, Dad, this is what happens when you put Gotham before us. When you build walls around yourself and keep everything locked away. You think you’re protecting us, but you’re tearing us apart.” His gaze meets Bruce’s, steady and unwavering. “If you want to blame someone for all the secrets in this family, look in the mirror. We learned from the best, didn’t we?”

For a second, Bruce’s face softens, a flicker of pain crossing his features, but he steels himself, his gaze hardening. And then Jason steps forward, fists clenched, his voice dripping with scorn.

“You think you’re some great protector, but all you do is control. You’re so obsessed with Gotham, you can’t even see us for who we are. You use us, treat us like weapons, then demand loyalty?” He lets out a bitter laugh, stepping even closer. “Mom might have her secrets, but at least she gives a damn about us.”

Bruce’s face contorts in anger, and he takes a step toward Jason, his voice low and deadly. “Watch yourself, Jason.”

Jason’s sneer only deepens, his hands curling into fists as he stares Bruce down. “Or what, Bruce?” he spits, his voice laced with contempt. “You’re not half the father you think you are. You want everyone’s loyalty, but you don’t deserve it. Not like this.”

The words hang in the air, thick with tension, and for a moment, it feels like the thin thread holding them together is about to snap. Bruce’s hand twitches, his fury nearly blinding him, as he takes another step closer. It’s a heartbeat away from turning physical, the rage between them almost unbearable.

The tension in the room swells, pressing in like a storm about to break. The silence grows heavy, thick with unspoken accusations, with words so sharp and bitter they seem to hang in the air like knives. Each breath feels weighted, every glare a loaded weapon.

The boys are visibly shaken, their faces tense and guarded, raw emotions surfacing as they look at each other, uncertain, angry, hurt. Jason’s fists are clenched so tightly his knuckles have gone white; Damian’s face, usually calm, is clouded with a confusion he can barely conceal. Dick stands firm but pained, his shoulders taut, every inch of him aching with the burden of holding this family together. Tim’s gaze flits between Bruce and Alfred, his mind racing, analyzing every fractured piece of the scene. Duke, his usual calm slipping, looks ready to step forward, but something holds him back, a silent question in his eyes.

In the thick, tense silence, a presence shifts the air, drawing every eye to the doorway. It’s not the dramatic entrance of a warrior or a call for attention, but the quiet strength of a mother, a woman bearing secrets and scars. Scarlett stands there, her arms wrapped in bandages concealing the marks Bruce had seen, hiding the symbols that had just shattered the fragile trust between them.

Her face is pale, but her gaze is steady, deep as dark water, and beneath her composed exterior lies the weight of pain and secrets she’s carried alone for too long. There’s something hauntingly resolute about her, like a structure pieced together after a storm, refusing to let even a crack show. Every movement is deliberate, unyielding.

The boys, instinctively, draw closer to her, as if grounding themselves in her presence. Jason’s fists relax slightly, though his eyes still burn with restrained fury; Dick’s stance softens as he watches her, concern shadowing his face; Damian, usually guarded, reveals a flicker of vulnerable uncertainty, his gaze searching hers for reassurance. Each son looks to her with the raw ache of loyalty mixed with confusion, a need for answers balanced with an implicit, unshakable trust.

Scarlett meets each of their eyes, her expression unwavering as she takes a silent headcount, offering the reassurance only a mother’s presence can provide. Her calm gaze settles the chaos, even if just for a moment, promising them that no matter the secrets or tension, her love remains unshaken.

And then, breaking the stillness with a quiet strength that commands attention, she speaks.

"Enough."

The single word lands with the weight of an iron bell, stilling every lingering thought and dissolving even Bruce’s bitter glare. Her voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the air with a finality that no one can ignore, not even Bruce. His face snaps toward her, caught off-guard by the power of her voice.

But the shock quickly gives way to cold disdain, his gaze raking over her bandages. His mouth twists into a mocking smile. “Oh, so you’re finally here,” he sneers, his voice thick with venom. “How convenient that you’d rather hide behind those bandages, wrap up all your little *secrets* than show me who you really are. Was this your plan all along? Making me think I had a partner?” He laughs bitterly, each word an accusation. “Or was I just another pawn you thought you could use?”

Scarlett’s jaw tightens, but she stands her ground, meeting his gaze without flinching. Her voice is low, steady. “I was trying to protect this family, Bruce. I didn’t want to drag you into something you could never understand.”

“*Understand?*” Bruce’s face contorts with anger, his voice rising, accusations spilling from him like acid. “Protect us? You don’t know the first thing about protecting a family. *I’m* the one who’s held this family together while you lied to us every day, hiding whatever that was. I’ve sacrificed everything—for you, for Gotham, for these boys—and you… you just stood back and watched, hiding who you are.”

A flash of hurt flickers in Scarlett’s eyes, but she remains composed. “I did what I thought was best. I kept it hidden because I wanted to keep you safe.”

Jason steps forward, his frustration boiling over. “Funny, isn’t it?” he sneers. “That word doesn’t mean a damn thing around here. ‘Safe?’ No one’s safe in this family. We’re dragged into all your secrets, all your lies.” His gaze, blazing with betrayal, locks onto Bruce. “And you, Dad—don’t talk to me about loyalty. You care more about Gotham than us. Batman first, Gotham first. We’re just what’s left over.”

Bruce’s voice is cold and sharp. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jason. *Everything* I’ve done has been for this family.”

“No,” Dick cuts in, his voice strong but carrying a tremor of hurt. “Everything you’ve done has been for you. Every decision you make, every wall you put up—it’s to keep us out and protect yourself. And we’ve been left to pick up the pieces while you keep us in the dark.”

Bruce’s gaze snaps to Dick, his face hardening. “I’m the one who’s kept this family alive. You couldn’t possibly understand the sacrifices I’ve had to make for Gotham, for *you.*”

Duke shakes his head, his tone cutting. “Sacrifices? Sure. But if we’re so safe, Bruce, why do we keep coming back broken? We’ve all had to keep secrets just to stay intact. And now you’re furious with Mom for trying to protect us? You’re mad that she did what you’ve done every day. Look in the mirror.”

Bruce’s fists tighten, his voice turning icy. “This isn’t the same, Duke. I haven’t lied to you about who I am.”

Tim’s voice slices through, measured and clear, the analytical mind behind it breaking through Bruce’s denial. “But you *have,* Dad. You kept us in the dark over and over. You hid Damian from us for *years.* You lied about Jason after… after what happened to him. You’ve kept things hidden from each of us, all the time. This family is built on secrets—and most of them are yours.”

Bruce’s eyes turn to Tim, his expression twisting with a bitter frustration. “Those weren’t lies; they were decisions I made to protect all of you.”

“Protect?” Damian laughs, a cold sound that carries the bite of deep disappointment. “Or protect your image, Father? You talk about family, but we’re just pawns on your board, part of your crusade. The minute we become inconvenient, you toss us aside or cover up the truth. Maybe Mother kept secrets because she knew what you’d do. And maybe the problem isn’t her—it’s you.”

A dangerous glint flashes in Bruce’s eyes as he steps toward Damian, his voice a low, deadly rumble. “What I can’t accept is betrayal. Your mother has lied to us all, hidden parts of herself that none of you could understand. And you’re blaming me?”

“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t understand,” Dick says, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. “Maybe she thought you’d react exactly like this—lashing out, accusing her instead of even asking why.” He holds Bruce’s gaze, his voice edged with pain. “Maybe she didn’t tell you because she knew you couldn’t handle it.”

A thick silence falls, and Bruce’s gaze lands back on Scarlett, his eyes filled with fury, his face hardening further as he stares at her, the bandages concealing everything he suddenly feels he doesn’t know about her.

“Oh, I can handle it,” he sneers, his voice low, mocking. “The real question is, what else are you hiding, Scarlett? Or was this all just some twisted game from the beginning?” His voice drops into a cold, scathing whisper as he steps closer. “Did you ever care about me? Or was I just another step in whatever plan you had?”

Scarlett’s expression holds steady, though pain flickers in her eyes. Her voice is quiet but unwavering. “I did what I thought was best for all of you, Bruce. I didn’t want to drag you into something you’d never accept.”

“Oh, spare me,” he spits, his voice full of contempt. “Best for you, more like. You kept us in the dark, treated me, treated all of us, like strangers. And you think that’s what’s best?” He leans in, his voice a cold, venomous whisper. “If I’d known who you really were, Scarlett… I would never have married you. I regret every single moment I wasted on your lies.”

His words hang heavy in the air, cruel and final, as Scarlett’s face pales, unshed tears brightening her eyes. The boys stare at him, each of them stunned, the devastation of his words settling over them like a suffocating weight.

She finally whispers, “You don’t mean that, Bruce.”

“Oh, I mean every word,” he sneers, bitterness dripping from every syllable. “You wanted secrets, Scarlett? Well, I want none of them. I want nothing to do with you if this is who you really are.”

The boys, caught in the tension, glance between their parents, trying to reconcile the love they thought they knew with the anger and betrayal spilling into the room.

Without another word, Bruce turns sharply, his footsteps echoing as he leaves the room, his final words hanging like a curse in the air. And as he disappears into the shadows, the shattered remnants of their family stand in stunned silence, the weight of his words pressing down on them like a suffocating shroud.

___________________________________________________________

Scarlett stands there in the heavy silence left in Bruce’s wake, her heart splintering with the weight of everything unsaid. She can feel the anger radiating from each of her sons, the betrayal simmering in their eyes, the questions they’re too hurt to voice. She forces herself to take a steadying breath, anchoring herself so she can be the calm in their storm, even as her own heart fractures under the burden of their pain.

She steps forward, her voice soft but imbued with a strength that she hopes they can lean on. “Come on,” she says gently, extending a hand to each of them as though gathering her flock. “Let’s sit down. Let’s talk.”

The boys exchange reluctant glances, some scowling, some averting their eyes, but they follow her, settling into the familiar comfort of the living room. Jason drops onto the couch with barely restrained fury, his gaze fixed on the floor, arms crossed tightly over his chest like a fortress. Damian sits stiffly, shoulders squared, masking the conflict within. Dick leans against the back of the couch, arms folded, his expression tense. Tim and Duke linger by the doorway, guarded and wary, their eyes flitting between her and the empty hall Bruce left through, as if hoping he might walk back through it.

Scarlett takes a seat beside Jason, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension wound tightly beneath her touch. “Jay,” she murmurs, her voice a balm, even if his walls are up. “It’s okay to be angry. You’ve got every right to be.”

Jason flinches but doesn’t pull away, though his jaw tightens, his voice raw and low. “Angry? That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He glances up at her, pain flickering in his gaze, barely concealed by the anger layered over it. “He doesn’t care about us, Ma. He only cares about himself—and that damn city.” His voice cracks, the vulnerability seeping through despite his effort to suppress it. “You’re the only one who’s ever really been here for us.”

The words cut deep, and Scarlett feels her heart shatter just a little more as she takes in the hurt he tries so hard to hide. “I know, Jason,” she says, voice steady but laced with sorrow, trying to reach through the bitterness to touch the young boy she remembers, the one who always looked for his father’s approval. “Your father… he has his own way of loving. It’s not perfect, but that doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” Jason’s voice rises, frustration spilling out. “Why is he out there, doing what he does best—running from us?”

Scarlett lets the silence settle, her hand tracing soft, comforting circles on his shoulder, the way she used to when he was younger, before everything became so complicated. Her gaze drifts to the others, each of them wearing that same look, a mixture of frustration, hurt, and exhaustion, all of them silently asking the same question: Why isn’t he here?

Finally, she speaks, looking each of them in the eyes, grounding them with her gaze. “I can’t explain all his choices,” she says softly. “I wish I could. But I know he loves you, even if he doesn’t always know how to show it.”

Damian’s scoff breaks the moment, his posture rigid, arms crossed tightly. “Father has a very… peculiar way of showing love,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping from every word. “To him, we’re soldiers. Tools to be used in his crusade. That’s all we are to him.”

Scarlett turns to Damian, her expression softening as she reads the complicated tangle of hurt and pride in his eyes. “He’s not perfect, Damian,” she says, her voice a gentle balm. “None of us are. I know he can be… distant, cold even. But he’s just as human as the rest of us, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.”

Damian meets her gaze, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. “Does he even know that, though?” he says, his voice softer, tinged with resentment.

Tim’s voice cuts in, calm but lined with a bitter edge. “That’s just it, Mom. He demands perfection from all of us, but he’s the first one to leave us behind when things get too hard.” His gaze is dark, conflicted, and Scarlett can see the weight of years spent trying to live up to his father’s impossible standards. “He sets expectations that no one can meet, then just… walks away when it suits him.”

Scarlett’s heart aches as she listens, taking in the toll Bruce’s distance has taken on each of them. “I know,” she says gently, reaching out to Tim, her touch light but comforting. “Sometimes he’s so focused on protecting all of you that he forgets you need more than just protection. And that’s unfair. It really is.”

Dick, leaning against the couch, lets out a long, weary sigh, his voice quiet but steady. “It just… it makes it hard to trust him, Mom. Every time he walks away, every time he shuts us out, it feels like he’s choosing his mission over us. Like we’re just… side projects.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his every movement. “And he doesn’t even realize it.”

Scarlett reaches for Dick’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, grounding him with the warmth of her touch. “I know, Dick,” she says softly, her eyes filled with a fierce love that envelops each of them. “You all deserve more than he’s giving you. And I know it’s hard—harder than it should be. But you’re not alone in this.” She glances around, her voice firm and steady. “You have each other. And you have me. No matter what happens, I’m here, and I will always be here.”

A heavy silence settles over the room, her words sinking in, and she can see each of them absorbing the reassurance she offers, letting it fill the void left by Bruce’s absence. Jason’s shoulders ease slightly, his anger softening into something quieter. Damian’s posture relaxes, the usual tension between him and the others fading, if only for a moment. Tim looks down, his expression unreadable, but she can feel the shift in him, the way her words have touched a part of him he rarely shows.

But beneath Scarlett’s calm exterior, a storm rages. She feels the weight of her choices, the secrets she’s kept, bearing down on her with unrelenting force. She wonders how much of this hurt she could have prevented if she’d been more honest, if she hadn’t woven her life with Bruce out of carefully constructed facades.

A memory stirs, drawing her back to the early days, when everything felt simpler, when she hadn’t yet seen the cracks forming beneath the surface of the life they’d built.

The memory washed over Scarlett, vivid and raw, as if she were back on that rooftop with Bruce, caught between the stars and Gotham’s fractured lights. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of rain and smoke, and each sound—the faint hum of the city below, the occasional gust of wind—felt amplified against the silence that stretched between them. She remembered the feeling coursing through her then: a thrill tinged with fear, an excitement she could hardly contain. She had been so young, eager to escape her past, to finally seize control of her own destiny. Being here with Bruce had felt like a door opening to a life that once seemed impossible.

She’d stood beside him, teetering between disbelief and exhilaration, tasting freedom on the edge of every breath. Her past with Ra’s al Ghul felt like a distant ghost, something she could leave behind if only she played her part well enough. She saw in Bruce Wayne the ultimate escape, a life that promised security, power, and maybe even the family she had always craved but never dared to dream of. Yet there was something else, too—a magnetism she hadn’t expected, a pull toward the man behind the wealth and mystique. She knew she had walked onto this rooftop to be exactly who he needed, carefully crafting herself into that perfect “cool girl” he might fall for. And yet, standing here, looking at him, she found herself suddenly questioning her own intentions.

Beside her, Bruce was half-hidden in the dim light, his features etched in shadow, his gaze fixed on the skyline. There was something unbreakable about him, a figure carved from stone and shadow, an enigma that made him seem almost otherworldly. But tonight, as she watched him, she could see a glimmer of something else, something fragile beneath the armor he wore. He wasn’t just Gotham’s billionaire or some untouchable vigilante; he was a man bearing a burden that seemed insurmountable. It was that rawness she saw beneath his façade that intrigued her, more than any amount of money or status could.

They shared the silence for a while, sipping wine as they looked out over the lights of Gotham, two figures united yet worlds apart. Scarlett could feel the weight he carried, a heaviness that seeped into his every movement, as if he were bearing the weight of the night itself. She felt a strange pull to ease that weight, to step into a role he’d never asked her to play but that she could see he needed. And yet, a small voice whispered that this was more than just a role. She wanted him to look at her and see something beyond the woman she pretended to be.

And then, as if pulled by some invisible force, he spoke, his voice low, barely more than a murmur. “Do you ever wonder if it’ll end?”

She blinked, caught off-guard. Bruce, ever composed and controlled, rarely revealed anything personal. For weeks, he had been a fortress, someone whose charm and mystery she could only glimpse, never fully reach. But tonight, something had shifted. She leaned in, cautious, aware that this might be one of those rare moments where he allowed himself to be vulnerable, even if only for a moment.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice soft, almost a whisper, careful not to break whatever fragile connection had formed between them.

“This,” he said, gesturing out to the city sprawling below them, Gotham stretching endlessly into the dark. “This need to protect it. To keep it from falling apart.” He paused, his hand falling back to his side, and his gaze turned distant, his eyes darkened as if he were somewhere else entirely. “Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever be enough. If anything I do will ever be enough.”

Scarlett felt something shift within her as she listened, sensing the depth of his burden. She could see it in the way his gaze lingered on the skyline, the city that had shaped him and scarred him in equal measure. But tonight, there was something different—a vulnerability that clung to him, making him seem less like Gotham’s mythic hero and more like a man struggling to hold himself together.

“Gotham’s… always been home,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s also the place that took everything from me. My parents. My sense of safety. There are nights when I feel like I’m fighting against something impossible, trying to save a city that doesn’t even want to be saved.”

Scarlett’s heart twisted as she listened. She knew the story of his parents—everyone in Gotham did. But hearing him speak of them, feeling the anguish woven into each word, made him feel heartbreakingly real. She understood, then, that his mission wasn’t just about Gotham; it was about trying to fill the void that had been left in him as a child, a promise he’d made to himself to never feel powerless again.

“When I was young, I thought the world was safe. That it would always protect me.” He laughed then, a hollow sound that seemed to echo into the night. “But that night—” His voice faltered, and his face hardened as he looked out over the city. “Everything I thought I knew, everything I believed, it all disappeared in an instant. I realized that no one was going to protect me. No one could.”

A chill ran down her spine, her own heart breaking for the boy he must have been, the boy forced to grow up in a single, shattering moment. She wanted to reach out to him, to bridge the gap between them, but she sensed he would only pull away. So instead, she let the silence linger, allowing him the space to speak, to collect himself.

“And that’s when you decided…” She let her question hang in the air, sensing he would understand, even if she didn’t finish it.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone resolute, though a dark resolve had seeped into his words. “That’s when I knew that if I wanted the world to be safe, I had to make it that way myself. I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable again. I couldn’t let anyone else feel what I felt.”

There was a silence then, a weight that settled over them as his words hung between them, unspoken truths filling the empty space. She could see it etched in his features, the years of pain and anger that had shaped him, the walls he’d built so high even he couldn’t see over them. Batman wasn’t just a mission or a mask; it was the only way he knew how to survive. Yet she sensed that the same armor that protected him had also trapped him, locking away any part of himself that might still feel.

“You carry so much,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, afraid to shatter the fragile openness between them.

He looked at her, his gaze piercing, as if studying her, weighing her understanding. “It’s not something I expect anyone to understand,” he replied quietly, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “Not really. Batman… he’s the only part of me that makes sense. When I'm with him, everything is clear. The purpose, the mission—it’s the one thing that feels real.”

Scarlett felt her breath catch, realizing that Bruce Wayne was little more than a shell, a role he played for the world. Batman was who he truly was. He’d compartmentalized his pain, his trauma, turning it into a weapon, and yet she sensed he’d lost himself in the process. And standing here, she felt herself slip into her own role, crafting herself around his needs, becoming the woman who would understand without question, who could shoulder his darkness with quiet strength.

But beneath her calm exterior, a small voice whispered that she wasn’t here only for him. She was here for herself, too, for the life he could give her, for the chance to build a future free of her past. She was drawn to him, yes, but she had crafted her persona deliberately, adapting herself to fit his world, his desires. She was the “cool girl” who wouldn’t flinch at his shadows, who could meet his intensity with unwavering resolve. It was manipulation, she knew, but a necessary one—one that would allow her to escape Ra’s, to create the life she’d always dreamed of.

Yet as she listened to him speak, something deeper stirred within her, an unexpected tenderness that caught her off guard. She was drawn to his brokenness, to the pain he carried so privately. She wanted to be the person who could understand him, to be the one he turned to when the darkness grew too heavy. She wanted him to trust her, not because she played a role, but because he saw her as the one person who wouldn’t turn away.

“Then why keep up with Bruce Wayne?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light. “Why not let the world see Batman instead?”

He gave a dark, hollow laugh. “Because Bruce Wayne is necessary. He’s a distraction, a mask. If people saw the real me… they’d see the darkness, and that’s not something the world needs.” He looked at her then, his expression hard, yet with a flicker of something vulnerable. “The world doesn’t need me. It needs the myth.”

And in that moment, Scarlett realized that she had lost control of her game. This wasn’t just manipulation anymore. She cared for him, deeply, in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She wanted him to see beyond the mask she wore, to know the woman beneath the facade. But she had built herself around his needs, and now, she was trapped in a role she had created, bound by her own manipulations.

They sat together in silence, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Finally, his hand brushed over hers, a small, tentative gesture, and her heart quickened. She had crafted herself to be his perfect companion, yes, but somewhere along the way, she had fallen for him. For the man beneath the armor, for his complexity and pain. And in that touch, she allowed herself to hope that maybe, one day, he would see her for who she truly was.

But as the years passed, that hope withered, cracked under the weight of the personas they’d both created. She had molded herself around his darkness, but she had done so at a cost, bound to a man who belonged more to shadows than to her. And now, as she sat beside her sons, aching for the family she’d tried so hard to hold together, Scarlett felt the weight of that night settle over her. She had wanted to be his partner, his equal, but in doing so, she had bound herself to his darkness, forever caught between the woman she truly was and the mask she wore to be loved.

A soft touch on her hand pulls her back to the present, and Scarlett’s gaze meets Jason’s. His anger, always so fierce and relentless, has softened into something raw, something painfully vulnerable. He looks at her with eyes that, despite the walls he’s built, reveal a flicker of the boy he once was, the boy who trusted her implicitly, the boy who had once looked to her for all the safety he could never find in his father’s absence.

“You’re not going anywhere, right?” His voice is barely a whisper, a plea wrapped in bravado, but she can see the fear buried deep beneath it.

A tender smile softens her face as she reaches out, brushing a lock of dark hair from his forehead, just as she had done when he was young. “No, Jay,” she murmurs, her voice steady but gentle, infused with a quiet strength that she knows they all need. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She lets her gaze sweep over each of them, taking in the lines of tension in Damian’s posture, the guarded look in Tim’s eyes, the quiet ache on Dick’s face, the simmering frustration in Duke’s furrowed brow. These were her sons—not bound by blood, but by choice, by the promises she had made to them over the years. And now, looking at each one of them, she knows that, despite everything, she would keep those promises until her last breath.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” she says softly, letting her words settle into the stillness that’s fallen over them. “I’m here for all of you. Always.”

__________________________________________________________

Prior Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

_____________________________________________________________

Story Timeline and Overview:

_____________________________________________________________

Additional info:

I know Jason never calls Bruce "dad" unless by accident in the comics. I sort of did that vibe. But generally when reading, I want it to read as sarcastic or even him subconsciously doing so. The idea is that underneath it all he does see/consider Bruce his dad and wants a dad. So if I write him saying dad it's a vulnerable moment where he cares and wants love.

_____________________________________________________________

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[westanthewaterman]

Feel You - Dark x GN!DA!Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Reunited after a century apart, Dark and the District Attorney spend some quality time together. Or more simply put, love sick Dark -> feral Dark.

Contents: handjobs, penetrative sex, no pronouns or body parts used for reader, standard Dark pet names (dear heart, pet, etc.), mild voice kink, blink and you miss it references to Dark's mind powers

AN: Idk where this came from, but it was fun to write. I'll post to AO3 and add all my usual links later, I should've been in bed an hour ago. If you're still here despite my hiatus, I appreciate you.

This fic is a sequel to 'Tomorrow, Tonight' but can be read as a standalone.

Fic Masterlist - Find it on AO3

         Dark hikes your leg up onto his hip. He relishes in the softness of your skin beneath his fingers, a concrete reminder that you’re here, that you’re together again after everything.

         The new position allows him more space to roll his hips, grinding down against the heat between your legs. You shudder beneath him. He repeats the motion once, twice, and you throw your head back against the pillows.  His hungry, grey eyes follow the column of your throat upwards until they land on your mouth. Your lips part around a whimper and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss against them.

“I’ll never tire of hearing you sing for me, dear heart.”

“Damien,” You whine before hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I think it’s a little late to hide from me now.” He chuckles. “What’s gotten you so shy, darling?”

“You never talked this much before.”

         Dark tenses, a familiar, far-away look in his eyes, one he always gets when the two of you discuss the past. You cup the side of his face, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. He blinks. A melancholy smile settles on his face. You pull his head down so that you can press your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. There are bad memories, yes, but also good ones. In fact, I can recall quite a few memories of us just as we are now, bare in each other’s arms, locked in the throes of passion.”

There’s a wry smile on his face, one that reminds you of evenings spent tucked away between bookshelves, sneaking out of dormitories at the crack of dawn, a rendezvous in the storage closet of a crowded chapel. Your heart aches for all the two of you have lost and can never get back. But despite everything you had been through, the two of you were together again.

Dark presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how your mind races. I think about it too, even now. Almost a century without you and I never stopped feeling your absence. I ached to hold you in my arms, to have you beneath me, to feel you tight as a vice as you come apart around me.”

A thought creeps into your mind and turns your stomach to lead. He had been by himself for so long, sure you were gone forever. You couldn’t blame him or be angry, but still the thought makes you sick.

“Was,” you pause a moment, steeling yourself for his answer. “Was there ever anyone else? In your heart, or your bed?”

He looks at you as if your words have burned him. When he speaks, his voice is firm, unwavering.

“No. My dear heart, there could never be another. I vowed to love you in sickness and in health, in love and in death. There could only ever be you.”

“Oh.” You blush.

The intensity of his answer makes you feel foolish for even suggesting such a thing. You drop your gaze, absently picking at the sheets beneath you. It’s Dark’s turn to take your face in his hand and bring your gaze back to him.

“I loved you deeply, but I know my actions did not always convey that. At times, I allowed my responsibilities and ambitions to blind me to how I was neglecting you. You deserved a better man than I knew how to be back then, and I have spent a century regretting it. But now, despite terrible circumstances and the battles still to be fought, we have a second chance, and I intend to use it to do right by you.”

“Damien, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“There is no need to say anything, dear heart. I know you feel as strongly as I do; I feel it through our bond, and soon I’ll feel it here as well.”

Dark presses a finger against your entrance, pressing it into you slowly. You cry out, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him flush against you

“You said earlier that I never used to talk very much when we were intimate, and you were right.” His voice drips with venom as he continues. “The prim and proper mayor, so worried about civility and manners. Too obsessed with his image and what was ‘acceptable’ to truly speak his mind.”

You want to argue, to defend Dark’s former self against his own harsh criticism, instead a moan rips its way out of your throat when two more fingers fill you. Dark’s grin is wicked. He ducks down to press his lips to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a quick tug. You clench around his fingers, earning an amused chuckle.

“I have no such worries. My only concern is pleasing you and, by the way your body responds for me, I can tell I’m doing just that. This little hole of yours is so hot and tight around my fingers, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

A shudder wracks your body and you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh,” Dark purrs. “Now what got that reaction? You like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, pet?”

“Y-Yes.”

“But what is it that has you so responsive? Is it my voice in your ear? The things that I’m saying to you? Or maybe none of that matters. Perhaps I could say anything, and you would respond just as wantonly, so long as I have you filled with my fingers or my cock.”

“All of it, it’s all of it. Damien, fuck.”

“Dear heart, such foul language. Have I already wrecked you so thoroughly?”

You scowl at him but you both know there’s no mirth behind it. “Fuck you.”

         There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as Dark grabs a handful of your hair, pulling just enough to force your head back and bare your throat to him. Sharp canines scratch playfully against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You should be careful what you ask for, my love. I am a changed man with a century of pent-up sexual frustration. I could take you over and over and over again, never tiring until I have given you every drop of my spend and the only word you know is my name.”

Dark sets a languid pace thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“You want it now, just as much as you did back then, isn’t that right? You wanted the serious, respectable mayor to break. You craved to be taken passionately, for him to make love to you like a man starved.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod frantically, bucking your hips against his hand.

“I have hungered for you for so long, dear heart; I feel almost ravenous with it.”

Dark removes his fingers from you and fists his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly. You find yourself mesmerized by the motion and the way his stomach muscles tense and flex with every stroke of his hand. Your eyes follow a drop of his arousal as it drips down the underside of his cock. You lick your lips. Knocking his hand out of the way, you take him in your own, his length hot and heavy in your palm.

         He groans appreciatively as you stroke him from base to tip, occasionally rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. You guide his hand to rest over your heart.

 “You’ve spent all this time talking about what I want and how you can please me. What do you want?”

“I want to make up for lost time. I want to give you everything I could not before.”

“But that’s still about me. Damien, what do you want?

He falters. “I…I just want you. I want to feel you. I want to know that you are real, and not just some illusion he made to torment me.”

“I want to feel you too.” You guide the head of his cock to your entrance. “I’m here, my love. I’m real. This is real.”

Dark presses into you in one long, slow thrust that has him buried to the hilt. Both of you moan at the sensation. You wrap your legs around his waist and urge him forward, forcing his cock deeper inside.

“Fuck, my love, I never thought I would feel you like this again.”

You smirk. “Such foul language, Damien. Now who’s wrecked who?”

Instead of a response, Dark grabs your face and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss. So much is shared between you in this single moment of contact, decades of sorrow and grief, an emptiness immeasurable by time. But there is also hope and joy, lust and elation. Most importantly, there is love; a love that has weathered the test of time and survived even the most unthinkable circumstances.

The two of you pull apart, both crying and holding each other like your lives depend on it.

“I love you, dear heart. Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I love you too, Damien. Thank you for finding me.”

Dark speeds up the pace of his thrusts, breathing heavily in your ear.

“I am afraid it has been too long, my love. I have spent a century waiting to feel you like this again and now I find myself unable to hold back my release.”

“I’m close too. You feel so good.”

“I want you to cum with me now. Let me feel you.”

         He grabs your thighs and presses them back so that he can rut into you, ruthlessly. You cry out at the way the new angle causes the head of his cock to brush against a sweet spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. Your orgasm washes over you and you finish with a cry of his name. The tight heat of you bares down around him and the dam holding back Dark’s climax breaks. Waves of pleasure crash over him as he stills inside you, filling you with his release.

         The two of you lay together in silence, collecting your bearings. You think you might fall asleep until Dark gives a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you.

“How-”

He gives you a wicked grin and presses his lips to your ear.

“I told you I was a changed man, dear heart, and we have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”

[valenschmidt]

Thanks for answering my ask! Yes, that's very true, Ryan has been consistently hated/viewed with suspicion and skepticism for years, so the majority of buddie fandom (who are Oliver stans) wouldn't want to ship him with Oliver. I distinctly remember one particular post (in Ryan's tag) a year or two ago that was like, "ugh if buddie goes canon i feel sorry for oliver having to kiss that man" 🙄

Lol yes I guess we have to thank bt shippers and their OTT vitriol for turning the tide somewhat. It's been nice to see a recent influx of vocal Eddie/Ryan fans join the fandom. So refreshing and entertaining.

Yes also I remember the super cute bts vids that popped up during/toward the end of s6, and some people tagging positively about Ryan (albeit begrudgingly!). But definitely a lot more people were on edge about rpf compared to now.

Ooooh so about Oliver being single, that's what I thought too! But someone else I sent an ask(?) to a while ago said that he didn't actually say anything concrete in his insta live, and that he is still with his gf 🤔 does anyone have any further confirmation either way? I'd love to know!

"this happens quite a lot when ships are about to go canon. People start projecting the ship onto the actors, especially when chemistry is REALLY huge " - this is a really interesting phenomenon you've pointed out!

No provblem anon! I love receiving asks!!

YES!!! I completely understand why people were really mad back then, especially black people and I also understand if there are still black people who haven't quite forgiven him and it's totally valid, because what he did was not ok (even if he never said that word he was still trying to justify his then wife's actions and that should have been a big no no) the problem is that people let it get a tad too far and spreading things that were NOT true to new fans in the recent years out of anger, making him seen like a terrible person who is a racist and hates black people when that is not true... Aisha and Angela were really mad back then but they both clearly have forgiven him (since Angela invited him to his anniversary party and Aisha to his wedding) and he has never done anything remotely similar again so I think he truly changed and has become better so I really believe people have started to see that and the bt being awful to him probably was a changing point to most of the fandom (not all because some still hate him) but well you can't change someone's views on people changing...

Also yes anon! A lot were completely against it calling it awful and whatnot and now are the biggest ryliver shippers (and getting viral over it when less than 6 months ago they would cancel you) and taking everything as ryliver signs but whatever I just hope they don't take things too far

To the Oliver thing... I watched that interview live and I'm 100% sure he said he's single but I can't for the life of me find a clip of the interview (if anyone finds it please send it to me!!!) But I remember that he said he was single and then kind of shaded his ex (lol) so yeah

As for the last thing... yup not many notice but it happens quite a lot. Just like how actors tend to fall in love with eachother (which doesn't happen all the time but it happens) in fandom it also happens that they believe they fall in love. Take heartstopper for example... Kit and Joe plan Nick and Charlie who are very in love but in reality they're just very good friends but people insist on shipping them or the Bridgerton actors that play Colin and Penelope as well... people project the feelings of their characters into their real life personalities because of the chemistry the actors have together. It's hard to comprehend the idea of acting so close to someone and play lovers and have so much chemistry but not falling in love

Wow now that was quite a lot 🤣

Sorry anon I got carried away

[rekino2114]

Arei's s/o during the second trial

A/n:on this final installment of drdt daturday we have......angst well it's not as angsty and heartbreaking as the last episode I NEED TO GIVE TERUKO A HUG RIGHT NOW....don't worry I already have some ideas for some comfort fics for her

[Spoilers for all of drdt chapter 2 obviously]

It was hard to explain the emotions you were feeling in that elevator. You stood in the back with your head down and your arms crossed, you hadn't talked to anyone during the investigation, you didn't want to, the image of your girlfriend's body hanging from that swing was still fresh in your mind and the idea that you could even accidentally talk to the person who killed her made you want to vomit.

"Y-y/n are you OK?"

"......no"

"O-oh"

"Sorry eden, it's just.....she's gone"

"Don't worry, I understand. Her death hit me pretty hard so I can't even imagine what it's like for you"

".....thank you for checking on me"

"It's nothing. I promise we'll find her killer"

"......I don't know if that's gonna make me feel better"

"......."

Your conversation was interrupted by the door opening and everyone walking out. You went to your podium, and the trial started.

You stayed mostly silent during the first part of the trial only telling the secret you received and occasionally interjecting.....until David said this

"Ahahaha!!! Oh fucking fine.....i.....I killed arei, does hearing that make you happy?"

"!"

"You piece of shit, you really admitted to it"

"You.....how could you do that! You're horrible!"

"What a mess"

"How exciting~"

teruko convinced David to explain himself, and you were still shocked to hear what he had to say....but for a very different reason

"I suppose you could call me arei's murderer but it's more like I talked her into killing herself"

........what?

"You........what?"

"She already had a pretty low opinion of herself, and she was looking for validation from me. It was pretty easy to convince her she should die"

"That's.....that's-"

"Terrible! how could you possibly do that! Arei wanted to change! and you talked her into believing she couldn't!"

"And why should I care? Actually, to that matter, why should you care? Arei contributed nothing of significant value to my life or to yours. She existed as a background character for a few short days, to occasionally interject brief interruptions of bitching and now she's gone. Arei had about as much impact as a temporary weather spell, but no one cries when the sun comes out again"

You couldn't take it anymore. That bastard needed to shut up

".....I see so that's how it is.......how dare you"

"Oh, what are you mad that i-"

"How dare you lie to our faces like that!"

"........."

"Ahahaha and to think I believed you for a second, arei killed herself? Sure whatever you say!"

"Y-y/n?, what's wrong?"

"Listen to me, arei would never kill herself, do you know how many death treaths she received? Do you know how many times her sisters told her to do just that? And you think she'd do that because of you? Fuck off"

"I agree with y/n, arei wasn't the type to commit suicide plus there's too much stuff that David can't explain about the crime"

"Oh, you don't believe me? how cruel! I wanted to make this trial easier for you, you know?"

"Shut up! I'm sure teruko will find some concrete evidence to expose your lie but just know I'm not voting until this blue haired bitch tells the truth"

"Blue haired bitch? Awwww are you seeing arei's ghost? Maybe she wants you to join her"

"I was talking about you shithead, now stop lying"

"..........you want the truth uh?.......fine then I guess I'll tell you, y/n is right, I didn't kill arei, I didn't talk her into suicide, our conversation had nothing to do with her death"

"W-what?"

"Took you long enough"

"Why the hell did you lie then? Don't you know that if we vote wrong all of us will die, you too shitface"

".....I don't know if that will answer your question but if anyone was wondering............I know who the real killer is"

"E-eh?"

"What the fuck?"

"What are you on about now?"

"It's true, I was near the crime scene around the time of the murder, did you forget that? And I saw the murder being committed"

"He's probably lying again.....right?"

"But why would he?"

"W-who is it? Who killed arei?"

"Alright then, listen closely cause I'll say it one time only......the cold-blooded killer who ruthlessly took arei nageishi's life is.............. Y/N L/N!"

W-what did he just say?

"W-whaaaaaaaaaat?"

"No way!"

"Y-you bastard"

"Explain yourself"

"Very well, since teruko asked me so nicely, I'll do it. So, as you know and as ace can confirm, arei and i had a conversation in the relaxation room, after she left I stayed there for a while thinking about our discussion and when I left I passed by the playground, the rooms are right in front of each other if you remember, and there I saw....y/n right in the middle of strangling arei, of course I left immediately to not become the next portrait around here"

"....there's no way, you're lying, y/n would never, they loved arei"

"If you knew they were the killer, then why did you claim to have killed her earlier?"

"Because I was soooo distraught by the scene of y/n killing the person they claimed to love that I just felt the need to cover for them"

"R-really?"

"Nope I just wanted you all to vote wrong"

"Fuck you"

"We almost died because of your lie"

"Like I care, so what do you have to say.... you murderer?"

David looked straight at you, and you snapped, not only did this piece of shit lie to arei to gain her trust, not only did he try to get everyone killed but now he was lying again and claiming that you were the killer?

"......so that's how you want to play.... alright then, I'll play by your rules"

"How fun~"

"First of all why the heck would I kill arei? She was my girlfriend for fuck's sake"

"I dunno maybe you had an argument that escalated"

"As if I'd kill her for something like that"

"Then maybe she started attacking you first. She was pretty aggressive after all. Maybe this was all just self-defense"

"Oh, so you think I just carry around rope with me everywhere I go? She was hanged, remember?"

"Well I saw you choking her so maybe you put too much force and accidentally killed her, then when you realized what you had done, you decided to grab the rope and make it look like a suicide"

"Then why the fuck would I object when you yourself told everyone you talked arei into suicide? everyone was about to vote for you, if I stayed silent I would have won the trial"

"You said it yourself. You knew teruko was going to disprove me sooner or later, so you thought that by doing that whole scene, you would look innocent and play the part of the heartbroken partner who just lost their girlfriend. 10/10 performance, by the way, you could have given me a run for my money"

"Y-you........t-then why would I feel the need to fake the letter in eden's name, I could have used mine, and it would have probably worked better"

"Ah! You're so desperate. You're asking me these obvious questions? Anyone with a brain knows that if their name was found on the letter, it would have implicated them. Luckily for you, there was just one other person who arei trusted enough to meet with alone"

"..........son of a-"

"That's enough y/n, I have some questions too. What's the deal with the fishes at the crime scene?"

"How am I supposed to know, I'm not the killer. Ask them!"

"Y/n?"

"I. Don't. Know. I am not the fucking culprit"

"*sighs* you're both being so unhelpful"

"You want me to be helpful? Fine then. Why the hell are we trusting the testimony of the guy who NOT EVEN 5 MINUTES AGO admitted to lying to get us all killed, and might I remind you, who's secret is that he exists to manipulate everyone. We might as well trust a pathological liar at this point"

"Y/n's right, David's definitely lying again"

"Y-yeah, there's no way they'd kill arei"

"I agree with eden, y/n and arei really loved each other, I-I don't think they'd ever hurt each other in any way"

"I mean, people kill their lovers for stupid reasons all the time. If you add the killing game and arei's personality into the mix, I could easily see y/n killing her"

"......*sighs* I base my suspicions on evidence alone, not sentimentality, and right now, the only evidence we have is David's testimony. I would do the same if any of you accused him"

"T-teruko, you believe him? You really think y/n killed arei?"

".....it's definitely a possibility, one that I need to investigate"

"Are you even listening to me?!"

"I. Didn't. Kill. Arei. How many times do I have to say that before it gets through your thick skull? And I thought you were the smart one teruko"

"I didn't even say it was for sure. You have to admit it's a possibility, plus with how defensive you're getting"

"DEFENSIVE? do you know what it's like being accused of killing the person you loved. Actually you should know that feeling all too well after what happened with Xander"

"S-shut up"

"No, wait, now I understand. You're being like this because you think I'm like Xander, you think I pretended to love arei just to betray her in the end, you're projecting you own trust issues onto me aren't you?"

"........."

[Rebuttal showdown]

"I'm not arei's murderer!"

"What motive would I even have?"

"We already knew each other secret's even before this killing game"

"I have no reason to kill her!"

[Advance]

"As much as agreeing with David gives me physical pain. Like he said, the reason for arei's murder could have nothing to do with the secrets"

"Then what about the opportunity"

"The murder took place at 7:30 p.m right?"

"You're out of your element"

[Break]

"Huh? Charles? What is it?"

"I think David is lying, but when I was trying to think of evidence to prove y/n's innocence, I realized something much worse"

"Worse? That's bad!"

"What is it now-"

"Everyone Shut up! I need to think...........damn it. Teruko, we really fucked up"

After Charles explained that the murder could have happened at 7:30 am and teruko and Arturo admitted their mistakes (one way more calmly than the other) you started talking about your alibis at that time

"Most of us wake up at 8:00 am as early as 7:30 we would all still be asleep"

"Yeah. I was definitely asleep at that time"

"I don't have an alibi in the morning, neither does Charles"

"Do none of us have alibis during the time of the murder?"

"No I do"

"Hm? Y/n?"

"I woke up early to have breakfast, At around 7:30, David and Veronika were also there, and j came in a bit later, so they're all clear and should be able to confirm what I said"

"Yeah it's true I woke up early too to shake off arturo"

"Yep,yep, we were all having breakfast together. None of us could possibly be the murderer"

"And to think I was happily eating while arei was being murdered in the other room......it's so-"

"Exciting~"

".........."

".........shit"

"If y/n has a alibi, then they're not the killer"

"Not only that, but David was there too, so he can't have killed arei either, even if he already admitted to lying about that"

"S-so David lied....twice?"

"He really did try to get us all killed....what an asshole"

"So y/n's not the culprit after all"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past 30 minutes......anyway, what do you have to say you lying piece of shit?"

"Whoops! You really should have skipped breakfast that day you know y/n? Waking up early isn't even that fun"

"Shut up!"

"David, without a doubt you lied about both you and y/n being arei's murderer especially now that we know that both of you are two of the few people who couldn't have murdered her"

"Well when you put it that way, I suppoooose its in the realm if possibility that I've been lying about everything for the past 2 hours"

"Dude, what the fuck? You do know that an incorrect vote will get everyone killed right?"

"David, why?"

"If I tried to explain why, would you even believe me? After all, everyone thinks I'm some sort of compulsive liar now,like y/n said"

"Don't give me that crap, teruko has already apologized for misleading the trial by accident. And she's teruko of all people"

"I'm "teruko of all people?" harsh"

"So don't think you can weasel out of an explanation for misleading the trial on purpose....twice"

"Besides,to try and get everyone killed, yourself included....I'm sure you must have a remarkably interesting motivation. So please, do tell me. Oh, and don't say something as boring as "I want to kill myself." I have no interest in such mundane reasons"

"Please, I'm an incredibly interesting person full on joyous zest for life......the truth is......... I killed arei"

That stupid repetition made you yell at him again

"SHUT UP, NO SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP. I swear If you lie again I will actually kill you"

"Come on. It was just a little joke~ it's true neither me nor y/n killed arei. I only said whatever was necessary to make you all think I or they did. Hell, I didn't even think to take the blame for her death until halfway through this trial! And I only accused y/n because they wouldn't believe me, and they pissed me off. Also, it would make a good story, don't you think? You know for the TV show"

"So you accused me of murdering arei because you felt like it?"

"Pretty much, it didn't really make a difference to me as long as you believed my lie"

After David did his whole speech about Xander being a good person (which pissed off teruko) and how he wants to end the killing game, you started talking about alibis again and Levi, hu, Veronika and teruko said which secrets were theirs finally revealing them all.

"I've started to detect that this trial is no longer about me, it'd be bestif I kept my mouth shut from now on riiiight?"

"If it's settled then-"

"Wait before he shuts up for good, I need to ask him something"

"Oh what a surprise! I thought you hated me"

"I do, but you're the only one who can give me my answer.....oh, and my previous statement is still valid if you lie I'll kill you"

"Nooooo please, I'm sooooo scared. Don't worry, I'll definitely tell the truth"

"......what were her last words?"

"Hm?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You and arei talked the night before she was killed.....what did you talk about?"

"Didn't ace already tell you? She found out about my secret and confronted me about it."

"I know that. But what happened later?"

"........."

"How did the conversation end? Was she mad? Did she yell at you? What happened exactly?

"........."

"Eden, you want to hear that too right?"

"....Y-yeah exactly"

"Tell us, David. What did she say?"

".........nothing. absolutely nothing. I didn't say anything to her, and she didn't have that much to say to me either. Arei simply got annoyed with me and left without saying anything else"

"....that's a relief-"

"You're lying again"

"Uh? How do you know?"

".......I don't, but it's a bet I'm willing to make. Arei.......she couldn't have simply left. She had to have said something, anything.....let me hear her last words"

"........why do you even care? Those weren't even her last words"

"..........."

"She died the next morning, remember? She probably said something between our conversation and her death. I'd wager her true last words were her cussing out her killer it would be very in character for he-"

"STOP IT"

"Uh?"

"STOP TREATING AREI LIKE THAT"

"........."

"None of you know what she was truly like. You all think she was some irredeemable bitch who got what she deserved. I'm tired of everyone slandering her, hell even before this game, do you know how many "you deserve better" or "i bet she doesn't even love you" I got. Everyone who found out I was dating her looked at me like I was willingly undergoing torture"

".......y-y/n"

"And even now that she's dead, you can't even put an ounce of respect on her name. You're talking about her like she's a mannequin, someone who wasn't here talking to us just a few days ago. And when you occasionally remember that she used to be a living person, you remember her like she was a piece of shit who contributed nothing but being annoying, and I'm tired of it"

"........."

"Do you even remember why she was killed in the first place? Because she trusted eden enough to meet with her, because she wanted to befriend her this bad. Tell me, would a bad person do that? Would a bad person save eden from arturo? Would a bad person die trying to befriend someone?....... Would a bad person love me like she did?"

At that point, you were practically crying, but you didn't care. They needed to know who arei truly was. You couldn't just stand there and let her memory be insulted like that. Especially now that it was the only thing you had left of her

"No matter what anyone says. No matter what she herself says. Arei was the best person I ever met. Because she knew she was a bad person and she tried to change that"

"Well she was doing a pretty shit job at it then-"

"DO YOU THINK I CARE?"

"U-uh?"

"Even if by the end of her life she was only 5% less shitty, hell even if she was exactly the same as she is, I'd still love her and consider her the best person I met. Because none of you know how hard it is to truly change. None of you know the hell she went through daily when she was with her sisters, and despite that, she still tried her best to change. None of you know how fucking admirable that is"

"Please y/n calm-"

"David! Earlier, you said that no one would cry if arei died. Well, I did, I cried. Do you know why I didn't investigate? Because I was locked in my room sobbing because my girlfriend's body was hanging off a fucking swing and everyone else is acting like normal. So I need to know. Tell me. WHAT WERE HER LAST WORDS?"

The trial room fell silent, the only noise that could be heard were the cries and sobs that came from you and eden (who started crying in the middle of your speech).....until David broke the silence

"........she said that good people don't exist"

"U-uh?"

"She said that because even people like me and eden did horrible things, good people don't truly exist, and she didn't have to worry about being one"

"W-what?"

"She said that we could be friends because we're so similar, she said that maybe in the future.......we could be less shitty together"

".....y-you're lying again a-aren't you? Y-you're just playing with my feelings"

"No I'm telling the truth"

His serious tone caught you off guard and you decided to let him finish

"What you said before, about no one truly knowing who arei really was, about everyone disrespecting her after her death and no one believing she was a good person.....that's how I feel about Xander......so I thought you deserved to know"

You stayed silent for a few seconds taking everything in, but then you asked the question you couldn't keep inside anymore

"........d-did she say anything about me?"

"........yes"

[Flashback]

"What about y/n?"

"Uh?"

"You don't think they're a good person?"

"......no..................I think they're the best person I ever met"

"....what?"

"I don't know if they're an objectively good person. Like I said, I don't think those exist, but that doesn't matter to me. In my eyes, they truly are the best person on this planet"

".........."

"Well, I guess they have to be if they can keep up with me. no matter how many times I push them away, no matter how many times I get angry at them or yell, they never left me. They're always there to hug me when I feel down. They saw me at my lowest point in life, and they never said anything negative about me, they saw how shitty I was and never for a moment did they consider leaving me......I don't think I'd be here without them......I love them so much"

[End flashback]

You cried even more, just putting your head down as your tears landed on the podium. She loved you. Her "last words" were that she loved you

"*sobs*....arei......I don't know if you can hear me.....but if you can......please know.....that I love you too.....so so much"

Everyone stayed silent for a few minutes, even eden and hu who wanted to comfort you, they all silently agreed to leave you alone for the rest of the trial as they started talking about the case again, and they did, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, you still listened but you stayed silent........until teruko narrowed down the suspects to only eden and ace

"......teruko"

"Y-y/n?"

"What is it?"

"Are you 100% sure that only eden or Ace could have committed the murder?"

"Yes, I'm positive. They're the only ones"

"......I see........monotv can I vote?"

"Uh?"

"W-what?"

"Wait a second, you can't be serious. We don't even know who the killer is, and you already want us to vote?"

"No, only I want to vote.....alone...you can vote later"

"What does that even mean? Why?"

"Because......eden can't be the culprit.......that can't be possible"

".......y/n"

"She wanted to be arei's friend, she was just as upset by her death as I was......she didn't kill arei I am 100% sure of that"

"What's your evidence for that?"

"........I have none"

".........what?"

"I trust eden, that's all the evidence I need"

"Your trust is going to get you killed"

"And your lack of it is going to lead to you making more mistakes"

".....!"

"You said it yourself earlier in the trial, right? You want to start to trust people more. Well then, consider this a show of what trust truly is. I'll vote for Ace. "

"W-what the fuck?"

".............why are you doing this?"

"I told you before, I trust eden and.....I know this is what arei would have wanted"

"........."

".......y-y/n thank you.....thank you so much"

"H-hold on is that even allowed. If you're wrong, then aren't we all gonna die?"

"Did you forget how this works? It's a majority vote. Even if I'm wrong, the rest of you can still vote for eden. So will you let me, monotv?"

"Hmmmmm, I mean, I guess there's no rule against a person voting before everyone else. Sure I'll let you it'll be fun here's your monopad"

You did as you said and voted for Ace. Everyone looked at you, surprised that you actually went through with that, except eden, who was very grateful that you trusted her this much.

As it turns out, you were right. Ace was blackened, and he only did it because he was scared of dying.....you didn't know what to think about that so you stayed silent once again in the moments leading up and during the voting.

"Y/n......are you OK?"

".........i....i"

"Of course they aren't. They just found out who killed their girlfriend, I'm sure they must be boiling with rage just waiting to see the brutal way ace dies riiiiiiight~?"

"...........I'm so tired"

"Hm?"

"I just can't do this anymore, yelling at ace isn't going to bring arei back, it's pointless"

"But aren't you angry at him?"

"..............of course I am"

"......."

"Of course I'm angry at him, and of course I want to hate him, I want to yell at him and be happy when he dies, saying that arei is avenged, but I just can't"

"W-why? I'm a piece of shit who killed your girlfriend because I'm a coward. Why can't you hate me?"

"BECAUSE I'M SCARED OF DYING TOO GODDAMMIT!"

"!"

"Everyone in this room is, even the dead, min,Xander,arei they were all scared of dying otherwise this whole killing game wouldn't exist"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Think about it, Ace just said it, he killed arei simply because he didn't want to die, isn't that the same reason Min killed Xander? Because she walked in on him trying to kill teruko and panicked, she was scared that he was going to kill her...and so she acted first"

".........."

"The fact that every single one of us, if pushed to the brink, could murder someone simply because of the fear that that could happen to them........it scares me"

"Y-y/n....."

"That's why even if you killed the person I loved most, even If you are a cowardly piece of shit I just can't hate you because I know that in the right conditions I would have done the exact same thing"

"........i-i"

"Let's just get this over with, I'm.....really tired"

Everything that happened later went by in a flash and it felt like a nightmare, ace punching monotv, Levi saving teruko from her punishment and ace getting executed, you all rushed to the infirmary to treat levi while teruko stayed back in the trial room.

You sighed and went back to your room after everything was dealt with. you plopped down on your bed and.....did nothing, you had already cried enough for the day and there wasn't anything to do, you couldn't even sleep since it was still morning so you started to think

Arei was dead, and there was nothing you could do about it. This killing game was going to continue and you were either going to get killed or give in to your fear of death and kill someone. You felt nothing but pure despair.

"Y/n, they're the best person I ever met, I wouldn't be here without them.....I love them so much"

Arei's last words came back to your mind. She really loved you.........would she want you to give up like this?.....no she wouldn't, she'd probably slap you and call you a coward If she saw you like this.......were you really going to disrespect her like this? Were you going to give up that easily?.....no, you didn't want to...that would just mean insulting her memory. As long as there was the slightest hope that you would get out of here alive, you would follow it.

"When we get back home.....I'll make you a grave in your favorite spot alright?"

You felt the wind hit your cheek like a soft kiss. There was no open window near you or nothing that could make that kind of breeze

".....I'll take that as a yes.....have fun wherever you are and make sure to beat the shit out of ace alright? And say hi to min and xander for me I miss them too"

This time, water hit your cheeks, your own tears that you couldn't hold back anymore even if you were smiling

".........I love you too"

No matter wherever she was, you knew she was somehow watching over you, and you were going to keep living for her....that was a promise that you were going to keep no matter what.