#she does respond ‘no’ as the first word of her explanation about getting stung

[silverdelirium]

hi! can you do one where draco and the reader are married (don’t make them old please make them like the married rich pretty milf and dilf couple), and they have a daughter. anyway, draco is out because of work/something else (it’s up to u) and the reader is with their daughter and they get into a small fight and the daughter says something really bad/hurtful to the reader (her mother) and the reader like gets sad (make it bad so it can be dramatic😏) and when draco gets home he finds the reader like crying (smoking too bc a milf smoking is hot but if you don’t want to add it it’s fine) and yeah basically the rest is up to you :)) ily hope ur well and fine. <3

CIGARETTES & INSECURITIES | D.M

thank you hoe @selenesheart for helping me with the title ily

warnings: anxiety, lowkey panic attack, insecurities of being a bad mother, mean child, smoking, angst w a happy ending

———

draco’s hurried steps were heard echoing across the hallway as he rapidly made his way downstairs, cussing his boss out under his breath for calling him on a fucking Sunday. the same sunday he was about to spend basking in the love of his wife and child, all expectations now turned to mush.

“i’m sorry i have to go, my love. call me if you need anything, okay?” spoke draco, tone soft as he held your face in his hands, giving you one last sad smile before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

you gave him a feeble nod in response with a reassuring smile, watching him storm off in long strides, still swearing in hushed whispers and with a flick of his wand, he was gone.

you instantly took notice of how intense the atmosphere got around the manor- almost scary. deadly quiet with your four-year-old toddler still asleep and big curtains blocking any sunlight from coming in.

it almost caused goosebumps to rise on your arms as if the universe was already warning you of the day you were gonna have to deal with today.

maybe the first bad thing to happen today was being woken up by draco’s phone going off like crazy with calls of his boss and endless text messages of his colleagues.

it didn’t matter though, you had other things to worry about. your toddler was already walking down the stairs with a sleepy stare as she made her way to you, immediately taking notice of how there was no trace of draco, and looking around for any signs of her father.

“hi there” you greeted, giving her a sympathetic smile when she asked for draco, her small body already wrapped around your torso. a small sigh with a brief explanation of a work emergency was given to her. her sour mood amplifying a tenfold for every word that left your mouth.

she stayed quiet for a moment, and just as you started beaming at the thought of calming a daddy’s girl- she sobbed heavily in your ear, clinging hard to you but still screaming for draco.

a grimace found its way to your face along with a sorrowful expression as you shushed her down, tracing your fingers down her spine; a small trick you always did to relax her in days like this.

her sobs quieted down but she still cried silently in your shoulder, hot tears rolling down her face that had you questioning whether you should call your husband or not, the thought accompanying the insecurity of being a terrible mother who can barely keep her child tranquil.

after a few minutes of letting her pour all her emotions out, you made a path to the kitchen and sat her down on the barstool, wiping her tears away as she huffed in what seemed to be an angry expression.

“would you like some breakfast, baby?” you spoke, tone soft and slow as to not aggravate the situation.

“i want daddy”

“he’s- he’s not here right now” you tried to reason, watching as she took a deep breath but said nothing.

you turned around to head for the stove. but your ears caught a small murmur of “you’re the worst” coming from none other than your daughter.

a thunder-struck look adorned your face, blinking back the tears that found their way to your waterline.

ever since you found out you were pregnant, the anxiousness of being a not good enough mom had filled you in seconds, thinking of the worst scenarios possible throughout the pregnancy. draco was always there to ease your nerves a bit, yet, never quite pushing them away completely.

and jesus- did that simple three-word sentence stung painfully at your heart.

you stayed frozen in place for a few moments before taking a deep breath and quickly collecting yourself, continuing your errands around the kitchen as you made an effort to ignore the way your hands became clammy and heartstrings were pulled harshly in your chest.

the rest of the day went painfully slow, your daughter completely ignoring you and just curling up on the couch or playing in her room, always slamming the door in your face whenever you attempted to talk to her. your back also aching from having to do all house chores by yourself. every once in a while getting a text message from draco, rushed typos of “i love you” and “i’m gonna be there soon”.

——

the clock read 6:07 P.M and you held the cigarette to your lips with shaky fingers, tears blurring your vision as all the frustration from today came crashing down at once.

sobs rocked through your body as you inhaled the smoke and blew it out past your nostrils. warm, thick tears not coming to a halt even once.

your cries muffled every sound around you. not taking notice of draco who was now frantically searching for you, already finding your daughter safe and asleep on the couch. yet you were nowhere to be found.

it took one look at the cigarette package on the dining table for draco to locate you. he knew about your anxiety and how bad it got when triggered.

his heart ached and fists clenched at his side as he turned to his baby girl, snuggling her deeper into the thick fluffy blanket before making his way to the porch where you sat with a hand to your sternum, big clouds of smoke fogging the air around you.

“oh, baby” he sympathized, not giving you time to react as he enveloped you in a big hug, feeling the way your curled your fists on his shirt and sobbed quietly, taking ragged breaths every once in a while.

after a few minutes of taking shallow breaths, you pulled your head back from his chest, just enough to stare at his face, his bright grey eyes running down every feature you had, almost like he was studying it.

“what happened today?” he whispered, closing his eyes and connecting his forehead with yours.

you released a breath through your nose and lit off the cigarette on the small table next to you before explaining every small detail from today to draco, a few tears escaping at some points.

once you were done, draco removed his head from yours, pulling back and displaying both of his palms on your cheeks, observing your tear-stained face made him ache with sorrow.

“my love” he started “you are the world’s greatest mother to ever exist, a bad day with your child does not define your abilities as a mom. she loves you, we all do. you don’t know how fuzzy she gets when you’re not here.”

his words made a small smile crack through your lips, buzzing nerves slowly weighing down after every syllable he spoke.

“we would all be doomed if it wasn’t for you. every parent has a bad day, do not beat yourself up for it, it happens to the best of us.” he finalized, chest swelling with pride once he saw how you were full-on beaming, puckering your lips like a silent sign for a kiss which he gladly provided.

“i love you” you mumbled against his mouth.

“i love you more” he responded.

———

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @metaraxia @dracoslittlesluttyprincess @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @yagamigf

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[pennibun]

Anxiety - part 1

Congratulations! It’s a beautiful baby another first meeting story!

This is angsty as fuck, and if you’re easily triggered by mentions of anxiety I recommend you skip this story, but I needed to vent a bit ig. No real coherent message or moral here, just me complaining through my OCs :,) In other words...

CW: Anxiety

Edit: Part 2 is out! 

——————————————————————

3.5k words, or about 12 minutes (SHEESH I really needed to get this out huh?)

Francis was awoken by a beam of light cutting through a gap in the curtains, whose only job was to prevent specifically that from happening. The fact that her alarm had yet to go off meant it must’ve been early—she was too delirious to make a good guess, but it was at least 07:00, if not earlier.

Francis was not a deep sleeper. Once she was awake, she was awake. Rather than try and probably fail to surrender herself back into the warm embrace of sleep again, she accepted her fate. She was awake now. The rest of the day awaited. Francis reached over to the nightstand beside her bed to look at the clock on her phone. Her eyes stung as they opened, not yet ready to give up the darkness her eyelids provided for them. She located the phone on her desk before noticing something… else… lying there.

Francis may not have been the most organized or posh person on the planet, but she knew the contents of her room well enough to know that she did not, in fact, have a toy-sized bed.

It was grey - no fancy headboard - with white sheets and a relatively thick, plain white comforter that was not even close to being neatly made on it’s surface. Francis had only just woken up. Her brain was fried from sleep deprivation, and her thought process was not steady enough to be able to properly ponder this oddity that materialized overnight barely a meter away from where her head lay in the middle of her sleep.

Had she been more lucid, she may have been more put off by it—she lived alone, after all, and the odds that her cat dragged it in and delicately placed it on the nightstand in the deepest hours of dark were slim. Had she been more lucid, a thought she may have had was that a stranger dropped by her house in the middle of the night, stole nothing, and left only a toy on her desk. Had she been more lucid, the thought that someone had been in her apartment may have scared her. However, Francis was not lucid enough to think these things. Her train of thought skipped over the “searching for an explanation” part and jumped directly into the “I must touch it and examine it” part.

She was tense, with no clear reason as to why. Just a general sense of “bad” in the air. Her hand reached passed her phone to grasp the sides of the bed. She lifted it up and made it a few centimeters before the bed screamed.

With little to no rational thought involved, she responded in tandem. She screamed as well, dropping the bed and leaping away from the thing on her nightstand, sitting on the farthest corner of her mattress. If she wasn’t awake before, she definitely was now. She was fully freaking out. She felt the familiar sensation of a dark, shadowy hand squeezing at her lungs, making every breath she took less fulfilling. Every muscle in her body tensed, and her jaw shivered in that way it does when you’ve woken up early and the adrenaline is pumping through you and your train of thought is a blur of incoherent babbling and was that a mouse or something that just screamed at her? And-

She dared not move as she saw movement from underneath the miniscule comforter. The blanket was thrown off the bed to reveal a very disgruntled-looking… girl.

Just a girl. No wings, no tails, no horns, nothing. Just a normal, tiny, human girl, probably around the same age as Francis, who looked very displeased with the premature end to her sleep. Or, at least, she did look displeased, until she looked up at Francis’ gawking face. Her expression very quickly shifted to terror after that.

The girl tried to stumble backwards, but had very little room to do so. She extended her left hand behind her and grasped at air, having reached the end of her small bed, and she slipped off the edge of the mattress, landing hard on her back. Her body was obscured from Francis’ vision for a few moments before an impossibly tiny head poked out from behind the bed.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Rory was having the most wonderful dream. She couldn’t be sure, but it had something to do with a game show, and final exams, and maybe there was a hamster involved? It was one of those dreams that you don’t question while you’re in it, and you only realize how weird it was after you wake-

Rory was levitating. This was it. She’d finally died and was ascending to the afterlife—wait. No. The bed below her was still solid. She was… well, she was panicking now. She let out a shriek of terror and immediately dropped like a brick to the hard ground far, far below her. Now fully awake as a result of her rude awakening, Rory ripped off the covers in anger, ready to strangle whatever frat house or group of egotistical fuckboys decided to play a prank on her. Her eyes searched for a target, and eventually met one. A big one.

Her eyes widened as she moved backwards, no destination in mind, anywhere that was further away from, from that, that woman? That giant woman? That colossal creature that looked down at her with shock, that could not possibly be anything other than hostile, that-

She tried to place her weight on her hand, not realizing that there was no more mattress underneath it to support her. Her world flipped as she fell backwards. Her head screamed in pain as it clunked against the hard, unforgiving surface of the nightstand below. She lay there for a moment to catch her breath before slowly peeking out from behind the cover of her bed to look at the giant creature beyond.

The woman seemed… normal, given the circumstances. The room seemed normal. The posters and pride flags and tapestries on the wall seemed normal, all save for their sheer immensity. This broke uni student’s bedroom which, by the way, looked very similar to Rory’s own bedroom, was a building, a city, to the comparatively diminutive girl. It was a whole world on its own, and there, sitting on her proverbial throne, was its ruler. The colossal woman staring down at Rory in shock.

The giant was the first to break the silence. She spoke in between her panicked gasps of breath. “…hey.” The single syllable left her mouth slowly. Those impossibly distant eyes narrowed in confusion, and Rory followed suit. She decided to test the proverbial waters a bit too. “…hi there.”

Both women stared into each other’s eyes, searching each other, looking for an explanation. Each was waiting for the other to come out and address the elephant in the room, hoping that at least one of them had at least some semblance of an idea of what was happening.

Being given no information from the giant in front of her, Rory began to ponder her situation on her own. People don’t just… wake up like this, at this… height. Whatever had happened to Rory must have been done to her, by someone, right? And, well, the only real… suspect… that Rory had at the moment was directly in front of her.

She had been kidnapped, right?

A pit grew in her stomach. A pit that sucked all emotion that it deemed unnecessary. It absorbed all of Rory’s thoughts and feelings before corrupting them, perverting them, and churning out fear. It wasn’t a blind panic. Rory wished it was a blind panic. You’re not as aware of your actions in a blind panic—you act on instinct alone, abandoning rational thought. This was far worse. Rational thought was all there was left in her, and she was painfully aware of every move she made, every tremor in her knees, every thought that passed through her brain. It was a hollow fear that choked the breath out of her lungs.

She focused on what she could do right now. She’d been kidnapped. That was the only logical answer, but the giant seemed equally surprised to see her here, so maybe it was an accident of some kind? If nothing else, she definitely wasn’t supposed to be here, so there was a chance she could talk her way out of this… situation she found herself in.

She swallowed her anxiety and once again spoke to the giant. Out of fear, she tried to find the least confrontational and hostile way to make her accusation. “What, uh… what did you do? To me?”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Francis was left speechless. She was far too deep into her panic to try and process such a loaded question, let alone formulate a reassuring, or even a coherent, response. The cold, dark hand squeezed tighter around her lungs, and those vital organs shrunk further. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but couldn’t find the words.

“Uh..?”

Apparently the lack of an outright denial in her response was enough of a confirmation for the small girl on her nightstand. “Listen, I’m, like, cool..? Like, I didn’t, you know, see anything today if that’s, um… how you wanna go about this.” Francis screamed at herself in her head, demanding a response of some kind, any kind, literally anything at all, yet she couldn’t come up with the words. Her chest felt yet colder, yet darker. The hand continued to squeeze. The miniscule woman swallowed hard before continuing. “Like, I barely understand what’s going on as is? So if this was a mistake of some kind on your end, I promise I’ll make it easy for you to, uh, fix? If that’s how this all works? Like, I’ll cooperate, is what I mean.”

For whatever reason, Francis finally regained control of her tongue. In her rush to defend herself, to prove that she wasn’t the evil monster that the girl clearly thought she was, she may have shouted a bit too loudly. “You think I did this?”

The doll-sized woman responded with widened eyes and furrowed brows. Her voice was suddenly more unstable and shrill. “Well how else would I have ended up here? You can’t expect me to believe I just teleported here in the middle of the night, right?”

Francis’ honour was at stake. She was sensitive to accusations like this. She knew that she was overreacting, that the other girl had every right to be scared, that it was impossible for her fear to be a comment on Francis as a person, yet the thought that she was being viewed as a malicious, evil threat was maddening. She knew what was going on—she was feeling and acting quicker than she could think. It was not an uncommon occurrence for her, yet she could do nothing to stop it. Francis jumped to defend herself faster than she could realize that calmly explaining her own perspective would have been a much better way to do things.

“You-you can’t possibly believe that. I’m not some kind of mad genius who shrunk and kidnapped you, or whatever you’re thinking! Don’t pretend you have some semblance of an idea of what’s going on here! I have no idea, and I’m certain you don’t either!”

The other woman shrunk further behind the tiny bed. Her voice wavered even more than before. “Okay! Okay! I’ve got it! We’re cool, everything’s cool, no need to, um… we can just calm down now, ‘kay? Let’s just calm down and breathe.”

Francis’ emotions got the better of her yet again. She was being talked down to, treated like a child by… by- How on earth was she being patronized by someone who was four inches tall? What the hell was going on? The stress of this insane situation drove her to the brink of a panic attack. “Don’t talk to me that way! Stop treating me like a threat.” The girl didn’t trust her. No one did. She would always be alone. She couldn’t breathe. When did her bedroom get so small? Her-

She looked at the girl again. She was trembling, eyes wide, staring at Francis as she broke down. She would’ve given anything, everything, for this to all go away.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Rory was scared, of course. Who wouldn’t be? This was all so overwhelming, for anyone. And yet, her fear was only a blanket that surrounded what she truly felt in this moment—anger. It was obvious now that she hadn’t been kidnapped, and that brought her some fraction of relief, yet it paled in comparison to her rage.

This woman, this colossal titan sitting in front of her, was panicking. She was having a meltdown. How dare she? Rory was the one whose life may be forever changed. She was the one who felt every tremor the giant’s movements made throughout her entire body. She was the one who deserved to be panicking right now, to be comforted in this awful situation.

But she wasn’t some kind of cold-hearted psychopath. She had empathy. This situation was, admittedly, stressful for both parties. And, of course, it wasn’t like Rory hadn’t been there before herself. But she was still frustrated that, like always, she had to be the strong one. Had to suppress her own anxieties in order to help someone else deal with theirs.

God, how awful of a person was she? A woman is having a full-blown panic attack right in front of her and her first reaction is to bitch to herself about how it was affecting her. She needed to help this woman.

Begrudgingly, she stood up from behind the safety of the bed. She walked to the edge of the nightstand, making eye contact with the woman the whole time. The woman… she felt uncomfortable referring to her in that way. Her throat was dry, but she found the courage to speak despite it.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a threat. My name’s Rory. Can you tell me yours?”

The woman stayed silent, still breathing heavily, yet maintaining eye contact with Rory through it all.

“Okay… I get that this is… odd, and definitely very stressful. I know it’s scary—I’m scared too—but for now, we’re not in any danger. Let’s just focus on right now, alright? So what do you need right now?”

The woman’s breathing was still laboured, but she seemed to feel a bit better. Her voice was shaky. “…Francis.”

Rory blinked in confusion, taking a second to understand what was just said to her. “You need... oh, that’s your name! Okay, Francis…” Rory looked down at the abyss in front of her, at the gap between the nightstand and the bed, at the long, long trip down to the hard floor. Then she looked at the gargantuan mattress at the end of the pit. It was such a scary sight, that first step to getting closer to Francis, but…

She could probably make that jump.

Swallowing her fear, she ran and leaped over the gap, clutching the sheets as she landed to steady herself. Francis gasped from her vantage point far above. The hard part was over. It would be easier from here. There were no more gaps between them. She looked up at Francis as she awkwardly stumbled over the unstable surface of the mattress. “Do you want to give me your hand?”

Still staring in shock, Francis slowly lowered her hand and offered a fingertip to Rory. It took all her willpower not to flinch as it approached her. It was like a car driving uncomfortably fast towards the crosswalk, and as you looked at it you were pretty sure that it was going to stop—there was no way the driver didn’t see you, right?—but it was still unnerving. Francis laid her digit down on the bed in front of Rory. The tiny woman kneeled down and grabbed it with two hands, stroking it softly with her own miniscule fingers. She sat in awe of the sheer vastness of it. It was just a finger, identical to her own, and yet… it screwed with her mind, but she shoved those feelings down. She shoved it all down.

“You’re getting through this. You’re doing great. I want you to tell me what you need right now.”

Francis finally responded. “I-I don’t know.”

Rory didn’t press further. “Okay, then let’s just sit here for a bit. Will that help?”

Francis didn’t need to reply. They sat in silence for a while. Rory’s mind raced, her ears burned, and she resisted the desire to twitch and bounce around, not letting the anxious energy out, keeping it in for Francis’ sake. She didn’t let her thoughts take any coherent form, but that didn’t stop the general feeling of panic slowly coalesce deep within her. But she could hold out, she could push through it. She always had, maybe not with this stranger she just met, but… life had a funny way of shoving her into these situations. She could handle it, though.

It was a very long time before Francis finally spoke. “I… I should go take my meds.”

Rory met her gaze and smiled. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll be here.”

Francis looked away and awkwardly shuffled to the end of her mattress before making her way out the door.

It was over, and yet at the same time, it was far from over. Rory laid down and twitched her foot, her knees trembling, her breathing shallow and shaky. “Oh god. Oh god…” her entire life as she knew it was over. This would be every day for her from now on.

How long could she possibly hold out for?

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Francis splashed warm water on her face, rubbing the calming fluid on the back of her neck. The hand’s grip on her lungs had loosened, and she could breathe once again. She looked longingly at the shower next to the sink, wanting nothing more than to be entirely soaked in warm water right now.

However, embarrassment repelled her from the shower knob, and pushed her back into her room to face the little woman—Rory. She let herself be so weak in front of this total stranger, dumped all her problems onto her shoulders… oh god, she’s four inches tall! She must be terrified! How could she not be? She must be so overwhelmed…

Francis opened the door to her bedroom and opened her mouth to apologize for her breakdown, but she stopped the moment she saw Rory. The moment she saw her sobbing, laying on her back, staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to control her breath. Francis heard it all, because she had just experienced it herself. Francis made her way to the bed and looked down at Rory. They met each other’s gaze, and Rory quickly sat up straight.

“S-sorry! Sorry about that, I’m fine, I was just…” She wasn’t fooling anyone. Rory knew it, Francis certainly knew it; Rory was not fine, and it was now her turn to collapse.

Francis wasn’t certain of what to say, so she just laid down on the bed next to Rory. “So I guess we both have our own shit to figure out…”

The small girl chuckled through her sobs. Francis turned her head to look at her, and watched as Rory raised one arm toward the ceiling. “It’s all so far away. I’d have to hike a mile just to get from one wall to the other.”

Francis struggled to find the most comforting words. “Uh, I… I’m sure we can figure this out. Y-yeah, we can figure this out, but we can do it later. We don’t need to tackle everything all at once. You’re safe for now.” Francis tried to find the spot on the ceiling that Rory was staring at. “We’re safe for now.”

Rory let out another laugh. “It’s been, like, 20 minutes, and I already miss when a room was just a room. You know, instead of a… like a football stadium.”

Francis smiled. She had an idea, but… no, it was stupid. It would be overstepping. She didn’t want to overwhelm the little thing. But…

“What if, um… like, if it’d make you feel more comfortable, I could… like, make a-a blanket fort for us? Or something?” She blushed heavily. She already regretted opening her big mouth, but she’d gotten this far… “Like, basically I could just pull my blanket over us, and it’d be, like, a more confined… space…”

She glanced over at Rory, who was giving her an… odd smile. Francis quickly tried to take it back, to shove the words back in such that they had never been spoken. “Okay, that was a stupid… I was just thinking of ways to help? Like-forget it, I didn’t say anything.”

Rory voice was a whisper. “I think I’d like that.”

Francis looked back with wide eyes, and quickly reached to pull the blankets over her head. The blanket was thick enough to block out most of the light, but she could still see Rory well enough to form a little den with the blanket such that the only things in it were the tiny girl and Francis’ face next to her. They sat in silence for a moment, but both spoke at once in the middle of the silence.

“Thank you.”

——————————————————————

Oh shit, that one kinda got away from me?? I swear that was meant to be a fluffy, romantic first meeting but I turned it into an anxiety vent somehow?? Wack

Sorry for dumping, and for making this end up being 3,500 words. I guess I’ve been using Gt as an outlet for my irl shit, and writing this really helped for some reason. I hope it did something similar for you! 💜

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

-

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn���t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

-

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

-

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

-

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: Even slower than normal, sorry! There’s a lot going on in my world and it turns out it’s rather exhausting to be evil. All the same warnings apply: major character death, guns, blood, violence, suicide, etc. This train is only moving in one direction (straight to hell). ~2.8k

The nightmare continues.

That night he called Emily. It hadn’t been planned. In fact he had been hoping to have someone else call her, fill her in on the tragedy. That way he knew she would get the truth and not the distorted reflection of facts bounced around by his mind. But when he woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard after yet another repetition of the nightmare, he decided he needed to call Emily. She needed to know and and he needed to hear her voice. Maybe her familiar words could chase away some of these ghosts. The coffins were getting closer all the time and he was almost certain he saw someone pushing them in his direction.

It was 3 am and he had barely slept at all. He went to the kitchen for water and checked on Jack before sitting back down to call her. He pulled his knees into his chest like an overgrown child and waited for her to pick up. She was grouchy even though it wasn’t all that early for her. She was always unreasonable at what he considered very reasonable times of day. When she saw his name flash across the screen, she wasn’t worried about the timing because she knew he didn’t sleep well. She had stopped trying to keep track of when he should be asleep years ago, the math making her dizzy with how small the number of hours he’d reliably rest seemed to be.

“What do you want now Hotchner?”

It was a game they played with one another. A false severity, all business. Seeing who would crack first. They both missed each other badly, each having been the other’s anchor through so much, but they tried not to say it. It only hurt more.

He felt bad that he couldn’t warn her this wasn’t a normal call, that there was no play in the gravity of his voice. He held his breath while he decided what to say first.

“Aaron?” Her tone immediately took on an edge. Damn her, she was so attuned to him, even four thousand miles away, she knew something was wrong without him breathing a word.

“Spencer is…Spencer died,” he managed to stutter out.

She didn’t become frantic, a quality he had always appreciated about his closest friend. She was quiet for a moment before prompting him. “How?”

He shook his head, it still didn’t make sense to him. He had brought home the report, hoping that the clearly typed details, the stomach-turning photographs, could convince him. That their fixed structures might settle his mind.

“We’re not sure. He just…they found him in the river. It looks like he jumped sometime early Sunday.”

She was silent. Of all the possible responses, that was not one she would have guessed.

“And…” he trailed off, not sure if he could tell her about the phone call. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He selfishly kept Spencer’s phone with him, checking it every couple hours to see if anything had changed, if his memory was betraying him, again. No one had questioned him about it.

“Did he leave a note?” Leave it to Emily to be practical. They were all so dazed, reliving the last days, weeks, trying to remember something that they overlooked. Surely they wouldn’t have missed something so large.

“No, not that we’ve found.”

“Well,” her seriousness now very real, “there could be another explanation then.”

“Em…” He was already weary of this conversation started with JJ. He didn’t think he could expend any energy trying to convince Emily as well. Not when so much of his effort needed to go into making sure he was on the right page, the right date, the right series of events.

“Think about it.” She was blunt. “Reid would never go without an explanation. He couldn’t. He can’t keep his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be possible for him to just leave everyone without some kind of goodbye.”

He waited, not contradicting her. It made sense, what she was saying. But he didn’t know if it was only because he didn’t want to believe the alternative. He also didn’t know what that would mean. If Spencer hadn’t taken his own life, who had?

“Well, we are still waiting on a full investigation. Either way, we’ve lost him.”

“Will you be handling the investigation?” she asked.

“No, not this time,” he replied. He had already bent the rules too many times, both recently and over the entirety of his career. There was no urgency to this, no immediate threat, no one to save. What had happened was over, the pain was irreversible. There was no reason it had to be them formally digging into the details of Spencer’s last days.

“I’ll be on a plane this afternoon. There’s a few things I need to take care of but I can be there by tomorrow.”

“Emily, that’s not necessary.”

“Like hell it’s not. Aaron Hotchner you are not going to deal with this alone.”

“Thank you, Em,” his response was quiet, fearful even. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the slithering doubts in his mind from her, not if she was there beside him. The things he had worked so hard to hide from the others would be exposed once she got ahold of him. He just hoped she knew how to rebuild as well as she knew how to burn it all down.

*

The next day they gathered in the round table room. Everyone was on edge, clearly having gotten little sleep. Hotch told them they could take time off if they need. He’d informed the director that they were unavailable for the next week at least, there was nothing urgent for them to do. He wasn’t going to force them one way or another, he knew they all had different ways of coping. They filtered out of the room aimlessly with glazed expressions. Hotch ducked his head and returned to his office.

About an hour later he looked up from his papers to see Morgan leaning on the doorframe. He gestured an invitation to the chairs opposite his desk. Derek sat heavily, pulling at his collar like it was too tight.

“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, they both knew it.

Morgan shook his head, restless. “I just don’t get it Hotch. Why wouldn’t he come to us? Why wouldn’t he say something to me?”

Hotch looked at Morgan sadly, noting the sense of betrayal in his features. “We can’t know what was going through his mind Derek. No matter how much we know a person, we still can only see what they let us see.”

He met Hotch’s eyes, confusion plain. “He told me everything. He—“ Morgan stopped, obviously fighting back emotion. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hotch nodded, “I know, I’m not sure it ever does. But the police are looking into it, we’ll have their report soon and then we can figure out next steps from there.”

“We should be doing that,” Morgan’s voice gained more of its usual strength, spurred on by the thought of strangers pawing through Spencer’s things.

“No,” Hotch’s voice was firm, “we all need time to process this. None of us can be objective, no matter how much we wish we could.”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Morgan sounded helpless.

“I know, but it’s the right thing. He would want the truth, this is the best way to get it.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped, he was too drained to fight with Hotch really.

“Why don’t you go home? There’s no reason you have to be here, no reason any of us has to be here. It might help to get away from all this,” Hotch waved his hand vaguely towards the bullpen, still full of people who hadn’t just had the earth shift sickeningly beneath them.

Morgan didn’t respond right away and when he did look up, there were tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I know he didn’t do this.”

Hotch just nodded sympathetically. He didn’t think Spencer did this either but he didn’t know how to explain that just yet.

“Go home, Derek.” He said it gently but it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand and exhaled loudly as he stood up. He nodded tightly to Hotch before leaving the office. Ten minutes later, Hotch watched him heading down the stairs and through the busy office, people discreetly stepping out of the path of such obvious heartache.

*

The following day was more of the same, the end of Reid’s life an immovable checkpoint in time. JJ stopped by his office on her way in, asked him how Jack was doing. She didn’t ask how Hotch was, she knew any answer she got to that would be a meaningless fabrication. Hotch looked a little guilty upon hearing the question.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What? Hotch, you have to tell him.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know what to tell him.” Hotch leaned back in his chair, looking at the pen he held. “He’s going to ask questions that I don’t have the answers to.” They all do. Somehow he has fooled them into thinking he was someone with answers, someone who fixed things. They would be terrified to find out wrong they were.

“He’s not a little kid anymore, he’ll be more hurt if you lie to him.”

“It’s not lying, and I believe I know what’s best for my son.” He was angry for a brief moment, all the stress of what happened had worn down his normally tight control. He immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, could see how JJ had shrunk back a little. She was only trying to help. She was in the same pain as him, the loss echoing through their lives, tearing at tender scars that never healed fully. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She waved him off though the words still stung. “Have you talked to Morgan? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“No, he’s taking some time. I don’t expect he’ll be in for a few days at least.”

She hummed, pleased at least one of them was able to step away. “I’ll check on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“That would be great, thank you.” He hoped she knew the depth behind those two words but they never seemed to carry the weight they should. JJ was always doing things to take care of the team, picking up pieces no one else noticed had fallen.

*

Morgan was not answering his phone. The first missed call didn’t bother her. He was probably doing something, maybe he’d gone for a run. The second missed call felt a little unusual. They were all so attached to their phones, always waiting for the next case to come in. It was unlikely that he was without it. Maybe he had turned his ringer off, ensuring that he had the space he needed. The third time she called without answer she had reached a state of full blown worry. Morgan was reasonable, he was thoughtful, he wouldn’t just disappear on them. And yet, he and Reid had been so close, always flirting and bickering, Spencer’s usual rules about personal space melting whenever it was Derek crossing the line. He wasn’t thinking clearly just now. She tried but couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t. But she needed to see him, to confirm his wellbeing. She decided to stop by his place on her way home. She could bring him some dinner. She doubted he was up to cooking for himself.

After picking up his usual order from the burger place near work, JJ drove to Morgan’s house. She still hadn’t had any luck reaching him on the phone. Her heart was racing and it felt like the air had suddenly become heavy, requiring incredible strength to drag into her lungs. He didn’t answer the door either.

She slipped through the side yard, searching for another way in. She pounded on the door and called his name. It came out sounding like a sob. Leaning her forehead against the door, she told herself to calm down, to think logically. She almost laughed when the thought of kicking in the door crossed her mind—picturing Morgan swiftly getting them through all manner of locked entries. She knew she wouldn’t make a dent in this door. Morgan took too much care in the details of the homes he lived in. The door was solid. She’d need another way in.

She paced in the yard, wishing she had a key, wishing Derek would just answer his stupid phone and she could calm her anxiety and head home. She glared at the door, so stubbornly closed, keeping her out specifically. She wondered if he had a spare key and was about to call Penelope to ask when she spotted it. One of the windows was cracked open.

A key would be easier but she could work with a window. She was too impatient to put an end to her worry so she stepped through the bushes that lined the perimeter of the house. She was able to pop the screen of with a little effort, then slid the window all the way open before pulling herself up and through. She ended up on the kitchen counter and dropped down to the tiles. Her palms were covered in a layer of grime and she brushed them against each other to get it off. Breathing a little hard from the effort, adrenaline ran high and made her overly sensitive to the quiet permeating the house. She wanted to call out for him but something stopped her.

She crossed through the kitchen and froze when she reached the doorway to the living room. At first she couldn’t process what she was seeing, random details refusing to connect in any kind of discernible order. There was a smell, so familiar but so out of place here, a home she’d brought her children to and laughed over too many glasses of wine in. The bitter metallic scent clawed its way into her sinuses, making her eyes water. It was dark and the shape on the floor was so crumpled it could have been a pile of blankets. It could have been if it weren’t for the even darker pool surrounding it, dragging the light inwards, velvety in its lack of reflection. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the pressure against her lips. There was a scream lost somewhere inside her, winding its way up as the tumblers fell into place, unlocking the meaning of what she saw.

“Derek, no!” The words barely made a sound. She moved closer, willing this to be a mistake, a trick of the light, there had to be some other meaning to this scene. But there wasn’t. She got close enough to look right into his unseeing eyes, still fixed on the ceiling beams, the thing he stared at as his life spilled out and pooled around him. Automatically her fingers fumbled for his pulse, one final hope to contradict the reality of the too obvious bullet hole. She kept looking into his eyes, trying to avoid seeing the damage that had altered everything else about his face. Nothing. She backed up, stumbling against the table behind her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, couldn’t even fully understand what was happening. Derek Morgan, the strongest, bravest person she knew would never be in this position, laid out with a gun in his hand, no fight left in his body. The voice in her head tried to whisper its triumph; I told you so wrapping itself happily around her shock.

“No,” she said aloud. “No.” As if that tiny syllable could have any effect on the on the matter. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hands shaking. She called the only person she could think to call, the only person who might be able to fix this.

“JJ?” Hotch was concerned when he picked up to silence. It was unnerving, too similar to Spencer’s mute call days before.

All she could do was breathe and hope the words would come to her soon.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” Silence. “Say something Jennifer!” The rise in his voice made a shiver run through her, just enough movement to get her vocal cords working.

“He’s dead,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Hotch didn’t say anything immediately. He couldn’t, the memory of Morgan’s blood on his hands, on his face overwhelmed him. He was filled with horror by the knowledge that he had done this.

She repeated herself, louder this time.

“I’m on my way. Call 911.”

He was already halfway out the door, not realizing he hadn’t asked if she was safe before hanging up.

~Park 3~

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 1895

Kaeya didn't lie when he said he lives close to the tavern. However even that short distance was enough to make both of you soaked. Letting you enter first to his humble place. It's been a while since he had anyone at home. Usually it was him sleeping over at somebody’s place but that's been a while too. 

"Whoah it's so pretty and cute here!" You exclaimed, eyes drifting around. Kaeya let out an amused chuckle. His place is small but he fit here way too many things he dares to admit. 

"Hope you don't mind the sofa, unless..." Trailing his sentence on purpose. Curious of what you would say. 

"Unless what? I'm fine even with the floor. You know sometimes I had no option and slept on a roof, haha." 

Roof? This certainly piqued his curiosity. Just what by The Seven you were doing in Liyue? So far he understands you were helping with running the business. But again, something must have happened. One doesn't leave to take care of business and comes back with a vision out of nowhere. 

"Well I could caress your cheeks while sleeping or rub your back-"

 "Yea, I pass on that. I'm not that scared kid anymore! You can comfortably sleep, I'll be fine I swear." You answered nonchalantly while giving him a confident smirk. 

He wanted to remind you about that squeak back at the tavern but decided not to. Instead of it he offered you to take a shower. You were hesitant at first but upon his remark that you can't sleep in wet clothes and you had a long travel. You agreed, slightly blushing when Kaeya offered you some spare clothes.

As you disappeared into the bathroom Kaeya decided to at least change clothes. He hates rain, it reminds him of that day when his father left him all alone. Also the day when his foster father died. Rain never brought anything good to him. 

As he was mindlessly staring out of the window, observing lightnings he didn't notice you were standing in the door frame. Unsure if you should call out for him. He seemed too fascinated and as you looked at his profile you could see the little Kaeya you remembered. He always looked out during storms. 

You suddenly sneezed and got the male's attention to yourself. Giving you a smirk as he approached you. 

"Be careful to not get mesmerized by my looks, Dearie~" A tint of blush appearing on your face. 

"Ah, sorry... I just. I didn't want to bother, you seemed to be lost in thought!" Kaeya's smug expression deepened. Wondering how much teasing you can withstand. 

"Hmm. Maybe you are lying, trying to cover the fact you were enjoying your view. I didn't know my timid childhood friend grew into a wild woman." Before you could say something to defend yourself, he gave you another head pat as he walked past you. Now it was his turn to take a shower.

As he left you just by yourself. You just stood there, thinking about his words until your brain could finally understand. You wanted to shout something but it was late night and this was not even your place. Causing Kaeya problems with neighbors was the last thing you wanted to do. 

To pass the time you decided to look a bit around, ended up in the kitchen. Looking at the kettle. Where are the cups? Once you found what you needed. Turning on the stove and waiting for water to boil. You felt tired, your muscles were aching, eyelids heavy. Luckily the noise of boiling water woke you up from your half slumber. 

About the same time you could hear Kaeya getting out of shower. Going to the corridor to apologize for actually having the audacity to use his kitchen. But instead of an apology for that you murmured a simple sorry and fell back to the kitchen. 

Heck. You didn't think he would get out of shower with just a towel around his waist. Feeling more than embarrassed, impatiently staring out of the kitchen window. Seeing absolutely nothing except some randomly appearing lightning in distance. 

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so eager to-"

"Please forget about it. I had no idea. I thought you were dressed up like a normal person." You interrupted him while your eyes were still glued to the window. 

"That's why you appeared so quickly in the corridor, huh?" He said teasingly. Noticing two cups of steaming tea. "Wow, this nearly feels like we are a couple doesn't it! Seeing me half naked, wearing my clothes. You even made me tea, so sweet!" 

You turned at him and rolled your eyes. "Yea, yea. I wanted to let you know I made us tea as I'm still feeling cold despite of taking a shower. But whatever, sorry for that." Crossing arms on your chest. Clearly giving him signals to stop his little play. At what he chuckled again. His expectations were, you being shy and unable to say anything at all. This was fun.

"Hey I know you are tired and would love to dive under blankets. But I'm really curious about something." Sipping from one of the cups before continuing. "What took you so long? You never sent a letter. Nobody knew your location as you never mentioned your mother's business brand." You scoffed as soon as he said the word mother.

"My mother, huh. Honestly I wanted to tell you and Diluc at the same time as I hate to repeat myself but..." Looking at Kaeya, shifting closer to take your cup. Holding it in your hands as you were leaning against the counter.

"I didn't know my mother's business. I mean I grew up in Mondstadt. I had barely any memories at that time. And when I arrived..." You let out a sigh. "It's weird. She pushed me out of her life and then... and then..." Your voice changed from strong to really weak in a matter of seconds. 

Kaeya looked at you with concern. He had an idea what happened but decided to let you talk at your own speed. 

"So, the letter. It was not my mother's work. Her vice assistant wrote it. At that time my moth... ugh no, she can’t be called mother. Ah... whatever. At that time she was already in a late state of cancer. Practically dying and somehow her last wish was me taking over her business." 

Kaeya just stood there, listening to your explanation of what exactly happened. How suddenly you had to learn so many things about business and fabrics. Understanding prices, how to make the best deal and many other things. 

"And so when finally everything was settled down, I made my assistant have the same rights as me deciding about the possible best step for business. I mean... Look, she has been there since day one. She probably knows more than anyone else. Already being that woman's assistant. I think I can trust her." Finishing your tea with a loud slurp. 

Feeling a bit relieved as you could get it out of your chest finally. More than explaining, it all felt like one big rant. 

"To be fair. I wouldn't care if she took over the entire business. I don't want to be a business woman anyway. Too much stress. I wonder how your dad can deal with it all. Ah, do you think he would mind if I ask him for his secrets?" 

Your last sentence stung him. He wanted to tell you that master Crepus was no longer alive. That he died one day, while protecting Diluc. But also there was something much worse he wanted to say. The truth about your foster parents.

Instead of saying anything at all he pulled you into an embrace. Silently rubbing your back. As you didn't push him back he assumed it's alright. That's good. He can savor some time to think this through. He can't just tell you two horrible news after hearing your story. 

The truth is, each of you lost something or somebody, and is still suffering from aftermath. Yet he feels like the biggest scum ever. Not only he lied to Diluc and master Crepus. He also lied to you and now is about to think of some lie again. Just to push the responsibility to tell you the truth on somebody else. 

He is such a horrible person and he knows that. His heart is already torn between what happened in his homeland and here. He is simply not the man who has the rights to be with you. To witness your painful reaction. 

"Kaeya?" He just hummed. Praying to archons you won't ask for anything related to either of these catastrophes. "I know I'm a very huggable person, but what's wrong?" 

"You said you are cold, and I felt like it. I'm glad to have you back, I'm not always making physical contact like this. You better cherish this moment." Hearing your chuckle and wrapping your hands around his torso. 

"Now I feel like a little kid again. You guys always stood on my side and were there for me, thanks for that. And for this." 

He felt like he does not deserve this. In fact he felt really down and needed a hug. Everything was repeating in his head, chasing him. He felt sick. Dirty liar. Trying to lie to himself that it's you who needs an embrace, but in fact it's him. He just should push you away and apologize. Tell you the truth like he told to Diluc that day. Make another person to change their opinion on him. He deserves that. 

You were feeling like you will fall asleep any time soon. Freeing yourself and noticing Kaeya's darkened expression. Wanted to ask if he is really alright but it suddenly disappeared.

"Guess it's time to fetch you a blanket and go sleep, hmm?" Putting your worries away and nodding at Kaeya. 

As you were sitting on sofa and waiting for the blanket, your mind reminded you what's going on. Being in male's house, that male is your friend, using his shower and now wearing his clothes. Usually you would be freaking out from things like this but you just sat there, a bit blushing. Reassuring yourself this is normal between old friends. 

When Kaeya appeared in the living room, he was grinning. Telling you to lay down so he can cover you like a little kid. It was funny as he really said something one would tell to a child before sleep. Before he could leave you said something that made him stop in his tracks. 

"Tomorrow I want to talk to Diluc. He seemed odd. Like really cold..." He stood there, thinking if he should just hum in response or actually say something. After a few seconds he responded.

"You see, Diluc has grown up. He is no longer the cute lad which would run to you when you fell down. Asking if you are alright, gently blowing at your ouchie or giving it a light kiss to heal faster." Kaeya felt like he said more than he should, hearing you getting up. 

"Honey, go back to sleep. Ask him tomorrow, good night." Retreating to his room, feeling guilty. He won't have light sleep tonight, that's for sure.

Previous ✨ Next

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter Seven

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC

Word Count: 3,000 

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more?

Kellen ran both hands through her hair for the dozenth time, trying to add some volume to waves that refused to cooperate. This is silly. Cassian doesn’t care what you look like. But even with the internal upbraiding, she was still determined to look her best. If this afternoon was a defining point for her future, she didn’t want to face it with bad hair. 

She took a final look in the flip-down mirror and exited the car. Heart in her throat, she located the entrance to the complex, then found her way to the address Cassian had sent her.  With one hand on her chest to stop its clamoring, she knocked on the door. 

Based on the quick response, he’d been waiting on the other side. In spite of the nerves she knew he must be feeling, he answered with a smile as sincere and true as it had always been. The sight of it set her heart racing for an entirely different reason. 

“Welcome! Please make yourself at home.” 

“Thanks.” Though the space was unfamiliar, she felt a strange inkling of nostalgia as she passed the threshold. He still kept his space neat and tidy, but the half-burned candles and persistent fragrance of coffee gave the apartment a lived-in quality. 

“It’s a little smaller than my last place, but it serves me well.” He extended an arm to take her coat, which she gladly surrendered. Despite the chill outside, her skin had been burning up beneath it. 

Shaking her head at his concession, Kellen tugged the wrinkles out of her shirt. “You could do a lot worse -- especially in this part of the city. And it’s much better than sending Owen off to Harika’s place. It isn’t toddler-proofed, and he does better on his home turf anyway.” 

“I know.” Pulling her coat over a hanger, he leaned into the small entry closet to hang it up. When he was facing her once more, she caught his lingering gaze.

“What?” The attention was not unwelcome, but the soft affection she read on his features was doing funny things to her emotions.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” he revealed, taking another step toward her. ”Part of me worried that you’d change your mind.” 

Kellen groaned and tried to cover her embarrassment by walking in and setting her purse on the kitchen counter. “I deserved that,” she agreed when she could bear to face him again. “Old Kellen never would have done this.” 

“New Kellen is a vast improvement,” he commented, following her onto the tiled floor. It was an off-handed remark, much too casual for the amount of pleasure it produced as she heard the words. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“A whiskey would be great.” 

Kellen just caught his smirk as he reached up to take the bottle from an upper cabinet. “Coming right up. You get any sleep last night?”

“Enough. I don’t think I’m going to fall asleep on you this afternoon.” 

Cassian kept his mouth shut, but she felt the heat of his gaze as he replaced the cap on the bottle. Of their own volition, her eyes veered toward the bed on the opposite wall. It wasn’t hard to recall waking up with him the first night they’d met, snuggled together under a blanket and with their heads occupying a single pillow... 

If everything went as she hoped, maybe she’d share a bed with him again someday. Maybe even every day. Somewhat astonished by the thought, she felt a hot flush creep over her shoulders and back. There was something novel in such forthright, uninhibited thinking about the future. 

If Cassian noticed the object of her gaze, he was too much of a gentleman to call attention to it. Instead, he slipped a tumbler of whiskey into her hands. “Sláinte.” 

“Sláinte.” Tipping the brim of her glass to meet his, Kellen swallowed down her rising anticipation. She took a sip of whiskey, as much to calm her nerves as to adhere to convention. 

Cassian took a couple of strides away from the kitchen, Kellen falling into step behind. “Shall we sit?”

Holding her glass steady, she followed all the way to the living area on the opposite end of the loft. 

He took the chair, and though he didn’t call attention to the decision, she knew it had been made for her benefit. Leaving her with the entire couch meant that she had the freedom to be as far from him as she wanted. And though she knew that letting men get too close had burned her in the past, the walls she’d constructed to keep it from happening again were only making her more miserable. 

Consciously settling at the end of the couch nearest him, she balanced the base of her glass on her knee. Inhaling slowly, she tried to prepare some kind of opening statement. 

“There’s no pressure, Kellen,” Cassian’s voice broke in, the even lilt working wonders to soothe her nerves. “If you just want to sit and drink whiskey together, I’m down for that.” 

Disbelieving, she flashed him a somewhat rueful smile. “Don’t tempt me.” 

Sitting with him now, it was impossible to remember any of the reasons she’d had for being upset with him, or the excuses that she’d been giving herself for the past several weeks. She’d known it before, but this time she felt it: Cassian Keane was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. If she let him slip away again, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. 

“Okay,” she began with fresh determination. “I think I want to start with what happened between us three years ago. I know it’s been ages, but I don’t think we’ll be able to move forward until it’s been addressed.” 

He nodded and took another sip of his whiskey. “Neither do I. I can go first if you like.” 

“No, I need to do this.” She pushed a long breath through tightened lips and began. “Here’s the honest truth: I was a terrible person three years ago. I knew then the way things ended between us wasn’t your fault, but it was a whole lot easier to blame you for walking out than to face the fact that I couldn’t make up my mind.” 

“...couldn’t make up your mind?” he questioned softly, urging further explanation when she fell quiet. 

“About what I wanted from you. With you.” She lifted the whiskey to her lips for a drink before pulling it back with a wry laugh. “I always prided myself on knowing my mind, but you were the exception. It wasn’t until you were gone that I realized how much I wanted you to stay.”  

Staring into his glass, Cassian took some time to weigh her words. Uncertain whether his silence was a good sign or not, it came as no small relief when he finally opened his mouth to respond. 

“I only left because I thought it was what you wanted. You clammed up any time I mentioned commitment or the future.”

“I know,” she acknowledged with a sigh. “And if I’d been honest with you -- honest with myself -- we never would have ended up in such a mess.”

He ran a free hand through his hair, combing back the curls so that they fell into a mass atop his head. When he spoke again, there was a rawness to his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “I would have stayed for you in a heartbeat, Kellen. I wanted to stay for you, but you weren’t ready. I thought the best thing I could do was to take myself out of the equation and let you move on if you wanted to.” 

“What else were you going to think? I was pushing you away at every turn.” Though there was no longer any shame in the memory, confronting her mistakes still stung. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m am too. And I never intended to leave things there. I thought we could reconnect the next time I was in Boston, but you’d disappeared.” 

“So had you. I tried for months; your phone was always disconnected.” 

“I even went to your old office to try to find you.” 

“I went to the station!” 

“They wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m sure you had the same rotten luck.” 

“I couldn't even get them to tell me what country you were in.” She leaned forward, voice rising as the memories flooded back. With them, she felt an echo of the hopelessness that she’d known, certain that he was lost to her forever. How fortunate that the caprice of fate had brought them together again. 

Lost to his own musings, Cassian took some time to reply. “I had no idea you’d tried so hard.” 

“I was desperate.” 

“With Owen on the way, I can imagine.”

“It wasn’t just that.” Her heart hammered against her chest as the words teetered on the tip of her tongue. “I’d finally realized that what I expected from you is exactly what I refused to give back. I wanted you to be committed, but I didn’t want you to tie me down. It took losing you for me to realize that.” 

“Kellen…”

“And I don’t think I have it in me to lose you again.”

He didn’t speak, but the heavy intake of breath was enough to tell her that he hadn’t expected the admission. 

"And so I’ve been terrified to get close to you now, and terrified to let Owen get attached. That’s why I didn’t want him to know who you were. It’s why I pulled away the other night when I saw your scar. I was so afraid of something taking you away from us that I ended up pushing you myself. I’m so, so sorry,” she rambled, uncertain how to proceed. 

Cassian drifted nearer and soothed her worries with a hush. “It’s in the past.” 

She knew that he meant the words as a sort of forgiveness, and she nodded slightly in gratitude. “But where does that leave us for the future?” Question posed, she locked eyes on him with what she hoped was a meaningful stare. “There’s a reason you stopped Harika that night. Where do you want to go from here?” 

“That may be a dangerous question.” 

Kellen leaned forward to show him she wanted the answer anyway. Almost close enough to touch, the traces of his earthy cologne sent a thrill of desire straight through her core. But they’d forsaken conversation for physical pleasure too many times in the past. She wasn’t going to let it happen again -- not when she’d finally admitted to herself that she needed more from him than merely what his body had to offer. 

“I want to be a family,” he began, voice husky as he stumbled over the words. “I want to be with you -- for real this time, not just messing around and pretending there are no feelings involved. I want to be there for Owen as he grows up. I want to be there for you. Not to stifle you or keep you from pursuing your career, but to love you.” He paused momentarily. “And I know you hate it, but I still want to protect you both and take care of you. I can’t help it.” 

Hope kindled, she had to keep herself from jumping into his arms. Tempering her enthusiasm with a firm grasp on her tumbler, she asked one last question:  “And you’re not going to be flying off every other week to risk your life in...” under the press of emotions, she struggled to think of a far-flung country, “...Zimbabwe or somewhere?”

Cassian laughed dryly. “Boston is more than enough for me, especially with you and Owen here.” His tone turned serious, and she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. He’d transferred his glass to the table between them, leaving both hands free to rub the fabric over his knees. “Especially if there’s a reason for me to stay.” 

Kellen took in his answer, fully aware of the way his eyes rested on her. “There is. I’m not good at putting my feelings into words, but I want to be with you, Cassian. We’ve got a lot to work through, and I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy, but I’m not running anymore.” 

Seeing the glisten of tears in his deep green eyes, she could resist him no longer. Releasing her glass with enough force for it to slide halfway across the table, she abandoned her seat. Legs on either side of him, she draped both arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his temple.  

Cassian clung back, his fervor tangible as he breathed his own promises against her skin. “I love you. Leaving is the last thing I’d ever do.” 

“I know. If I ever push you away again, please kiss me until I’ve come back to my senses.” She felt his laughter at her throat and shivered against the sensation. “I’ve missed this so much.” 

His lips pressed her pulse point, his tongue gently brushing over her skin to usher a gasp from her throat. “And that.” She buried her hands in his hair, massaging the scalp with probing fingers. Every touch felt like laying claim to one another all over again, and she couldn’t get enough. 

“But mostly, I’ve just missed you. I don’t want to do life without you anymore. I love you, Cassian.” 

He stiffened beneath her, but his second impulse was to hold her even tighter than before. Thumbs finding purchase on her hips, he rocked her gently against his lap. “You don’t have to...” 

“Shhh. I left you hanging for way too long. Let me have this.” 

She alternated the phrase between kisses, determined to prove to him after all of these years that the words he’d longed to hear were true, that he deserved the love that she’d refused him so often in the past. Each repetition was a commitment -- a promise that her love was more than just a feeling or a whim. 

“I’m going to need more of you in the future,” he murmured, breath skimming the shell of her ear. “A lot more, I think.” 

Her whole body glowed at the reminder that this wasn’t just a passing fancy. “I’m yours.” 

Their kisses were gentle, but there was no less passion behind them than there had been when they’d kissed two week before. Rather, they were able to take their time with one another, patient in the knowledge that there was plenty left to come. 

_____

When Kellen finally made her way back to her own apartment, not even Harika’s gloating could dampen the mood. She quickly sent the other woman on her way and set about Owen’s bedtime routine, thinking all the while about how much better nights would be with Cassian there to share them. 

Having meals, reading together, tucking Owen in -- they were all things that she wanted to do as a family. She hadn’t known how much until they’d gotten a taste of it, but now she hungered for it like it was something she’d always known. 

“Here,” she propped Owen up against her shoulder before starting in on the books he’d selected. “Let’s take a selfie to send Mr. Keane.”

You won’t be calling him that for much longer, she noted with a thrill as she pulled up the camera on her phone. Beside her, the toddler wiggled so far into the frame that he nearly blocked her face. Shifting out from behind him, she centered her thumb over the button. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” Owen copied, his grin wide enough for both his top and bottom gums to be visible. 

“You goofball!” Kellen accused as she looked over the resulting shot. The boy just giggled and rolled back onto his pile of pillows. 

“He’s going to love it,” she muttered, more to herself than to her son. Attaching the photo, she typed out a quick message: Have you ever seen a smile this big?

She felt the phone vibrate against her thigh midway through their first book. Ignoring it until they’d come to the end, she had to bite back a sharp laugh at the image that awaited them. 

Cassian had recreated the same exaggerated smile, the effect even more ridiculous on his adult features than they’d been on Owen’s. He’s got me beat. 

Sharing the picture with her son brought on such a fit of laughter that she worried he would never fall asleep. Thankfully, the two remaining books were sufficient to settle him down again. As she tiptoed into the hallway, she resumed the conversation with Cassian. 

He loved it. Any idea when we’ll see you next?

I know it’s short notice, but I’ve got the day free tomorrow. Do you have any plans?

Just a few hours of work and maybe a grocery run. We should be home most of the day though. You wanna spend it with us?

Very much. I’ll come over and cook breakfast if you want. 

You really know how to spoil us, don’t you?

Does that mean yes? 

If you’re sure you can handle me pre-coffee…

I happen to love pre-coffee Kellen. And post-coffee Kellen. And every other version of ya. 

Her skin turned to fire at the admission. Goodness knew she didn’t deserve him, but now that she had him again, she’d do whatever she could to be worthy of him.

In that case, I’ll be waiting for you bright and early. 

Overwhelmed by a swell of affection, she held the phone to her chest and indulged in a gleeful smile. With any luck, tomorrow would be just the first of many days together.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (26)

Author’s Note: Happy New Years! I realize that it has been a LONG time since I have updated this story. The school year has been an absolute killer. Not to mention that I am also working on my master’s degree and taking a ton of classes this summer.

In regards to this chapter, I ended up running out of time and decided to cut it in half due to the coherency of the story and the length. I wanted to give Satou and Isao a bit of a wrap up that does the story justice. However, the good news is that the second half will take less time to be posted. I will definitely be trying to work on this story because I have a LOT planned for it and it’s only just getting to the good parts (one coming up next chapter.) For my patient readers, this will be good news to you. For those who aren’t patient, hoping you’ll stick around to read J

Also, next to Naruto, reading and writing are my passions and my New Year’s resolution is to encourage more people to read. I created an Instagram account called read_with_rich where I will be posting about high-interest books in order to encourage non-readers to read by using the social media platform that can introduce people to books without them going to libraries or book stores (which they won’t if they don’t already read.) Give me a follow if you are interested!

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

Chapter 26: Monsters

There was a sharp mix of pungent smells permeating the air around them as Sasuke looked over Sakura’s shoulder at a particular herbalist book. His friend was sitting at a table in the center of the greenhouse, flipping through the Sunagakure plant log, scratching down a list of all the ingredients she would need to create the military ration pills.

When Sasuke commented on the smell, Sakura replied with “You get used to it.” And then she went into a detailed explanation of why plants even created all sorts of different smells--why many flowers had sweet aromas, but other plants had fouler scents. Sakura elaborated that it all had something to do with procreation. Something about bugs being attracted to them in order to spread pollination. She even went into the genetic purposes of tastes in plants. Sasuke listened with genuine interest at the wide variety of facts that she possessed.

Sasuke turned and leaned against the table as she spoke, tucking in his chin to his chest and closing his eyes. When he was sure she was distracted, Sasuke peeked at her between the lashes of his right eye. He noticed that her brow was furrowed as she searched for the plant she had written down. After a few minutes of this, she began to tap the end of the pen against her bottom lip, a subconscious behavior many people did while thinking. Sasuke couldn’t help but realize that he hadn’t paid much attention to anyone’s small habitual behaviors in the past few years except for in battle scenarios. To watch the cogs spinning in Sakura’s mind, had Sasuke feeling like he had missed out on much in the last several years.

After another few seconds, Sakura explained her concern: “I’m going to have to find a substitute plant for the medicinal aspects of the pills. Sunagakure doesn’t grow Tikasia in abundance here. The amount that I would need would deplete their entire reserve.”

Sasuke considered her word for a few seconds before his eyes narrowed a fraction when the door of the greenhouse opened. A white-coated man with sandy colored hair beamed hugely and raised his hand in greeting as he entered. “There you are, Sakura-san. I’ve been looking for you!”

Sakura broke from her deep concentration and turned from the table as she picked up on the calling. Sasuke raised his eyebrows slightly at the familiar tone the young man used. This must be a staff member from the hospital, a colleague that was working closely with Sakura while she was here. His presumption was confirmed when Sakura returned both the smile and call.

“Sorry Mako! Hope you haven’t been looking for too long.”

Mako?What-- are they on a first name basis or something? Sasuke pondered with a frown of disapproval.Sakura barely knew him, or at least, that’s what Sasuke thought. At least Makohad the decency to add the proper honorific to her name. Not that Sasuke could be the one to lecture on the topic.

The young physician made his way over to them and immediately offered a respectful bow to the both of them. Sasuke was never very good at returning these customs of respect, but after a minute of awkward staring, the Uchiha nodded his acknowledgement in a very uncaring sort of way. After bowing, the medic immediately turned to Sakura and glanced at her work on the table.

“Are you creating another medicine?” Mako asked, crossing his hands behind him in consideration, boldly reading the list she had compiled next to the herbal catalog.

Seeing her co-medic’s interest, Sakura picked it up and handed it to him while simultaneously pushing the book in his direction, an invitation for his opinion.

“You’re just the person I need right now actually.” She explained to Mako how she was creating a batch of military ration pills, a notion at which the male medic’s facial expression turned to one of surprise. Sasuke understood his disbelief; not many people knew how to make such a desired sustenance that tipped the scale in favor of those who consumed it in battle. When bringing up the topic of the ingredients she needed, he raised his thumb and forefinger to his chin, pinching it in contemplation.

Sasuke stiffened slightly when the young man pulled up a seat to sit beside her, pulling the book closer so they could both look at it together. “What about Ashuwa?” he offered, flipping to a plant towards the front of the book. Sasuke peeked over towards the illustration and noticed a shrubby little plant with bright yellow flowers.

“Ashuwa?” Sakura questioned, frowning down at the picture. “That belongs to the nightshade family, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he informed, “but it’s not fatal like many of its other relatives. It’s actually quite safe to consume unless the patient has some sort of allergic reaction to it.”

“That’s interesting. I’m not very familiar with it. What are its properties?”

“It’s a little stronger than Tikasia but more acclimated to our desert climate, so we have plenty of it here. Its primary effect is a boost in brain function. However, we have observed an increase in energy and muscle mass along with it. Some ninja even claim that after consuming it, it relieves them of stress.”

“All that?” Sakura pondered, dropping her jaw.

Sasuke raised an inquisitive brow as well. With benefits like that, it was a wonder they didn’t add it to every meal here. There had to be missing information obviously…

Sakura must have been thinking the same thing Sasuke had, because she immediately responded with. “What are the negative effects?”

Mako smiled at her insight. “Just like Tikasia, you crash and suffer chakra depletion as a result. You have to take far less of it than Tikasia. Like I said earlier, many people have severe allergic reactions to the plant which is why we don’t use it often.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but frown at the pair of doctors who discussed plants so casually with one another. Mako had a sort of charisma about him, and Sasuke could tell why Sakura would rely on him while she was here. The young man’s temperament sort of reminded Sasuke of their old schoolteacher, Iruka-sensei. However, Mako’s knowledge was so thorough that he almost reminded Sasuke of Kabuto; Sasuke had witnessed many in-depth medical conversations between Orochimaru and he.

Still leaning against the table, Sasuke closed his eyes, adopting an uninterested guise to go with the frown. Seeing them together, discussing their common interests, reminded Sasuke of something despite his epiphany last night. Watching her familiarity with this person reminded Sasuke that just because he had finally admitted to himself that loved her, didn’t mean that he should do anything about it. Sakura had told him firmly that she would only ever choose him and to not assume that if he left her alone, she would fall in love with someone else. Sasuke truly believed his female teammate about this. But seeing her cheerfully interact with Mako made Sasuke want to believe otherwise. Even though it stung him to think about Sakura loving someone else and another man being a part of her daily life, waking up beside her and hearing a confession from her lips, Sasuke knew it was what she deserved. He could never be that sort of man for her, especially not in the near future.

But now that Sasuke was certain of his feelings, would he be able to only ever be a close friend to her? Would he be able to watch someone else come into her life and become the person Sakura swooned over and built a family with? He would, Sasuke told himself. He hadto. Sasuke had already chosen in his heart to be the Itachi of this time and make the sacrifice for the greater good so that his loved ones like Sakura even had a future. He had to keep reminding himself of this.

Without meaning to, he let a low exhale of self-defeat escape his mouth. Realizing he had done so, Sasuke quickly glanced to his right to make sure no one noticed.  Sakura, who Sasuke now noticed had stopped what she was doing, was now watching him despite the fact that Mako was still flipping through the book and explaining something to her.

His kunoichi teammate locked gazes with him, furrowed her eyebrows, and tilted her head in silent question. Sasuke broke their eye-contact immediately and Sakura returned her attention to Mako. It’s for the best, he thought to her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mako lead Sakura across the greenhouse to the white-labeled bushel of Ashu that he had spoken to her about. She measured out the amount she would need and began cutting it carefully with his assistance. Sakura had been surprised at this substitute that Mako had offered with certainty at its effectiveness. She pinched a sizable piece of it and placed it on her tongue and began to chew. With it being a nightshade after all, she wanted to be certain that it wasn’t toxic. Nightshades were highly cultivated by humans and most were safe to consume like Mako said, but since she had never heard of this plant and it was unfamiliar to her, she wanted to double-check Mako’s claim. Besides, he said it could cause allergic reactions.

Just so Mako’s feelings wouldn’t be hurt by her taste-testing, Sakura simply announced, “This actually tastes quite yummy. Much better than the bitter Tikasia.” Then she called out loud enough for Sasuke—who had been casually leaning against the table since their arrival—to hear, “You’re in luck, Sasuke. Maybe these pills won’t taste like ‘mudballs’ this time like Sai famously calls them.”

Sasuke peeked open his right eye at her, clearly not grasping a word of what she was referencing. Mako, on the other hand, laughed at her statement.

“Tikasia israther bitter. Is Sai a friend back home? Your friend really called them ‘mudballs’ to your face?” Mako laughed.

Sakura chuckled to herself a bit, returning her full attention to Mako. “Sai is a sort of special friend. He’s brutally honest; always has been.”

“Sometimes we need friends like that,” Mako said reassuringly, helping her pluck the stems and flowers of the plant and wrapping it up in paper.

Sakura nodded in agreement and instantly recalled many of her friends back home and a sort of homesickness radiated in her chest at the thought of them. She wondered how all of them were doing. She also thought of the hospital and Lady Tsunade in that moment too, and made a mental note to write a letter to check in on them.

She glanced up at Sasuke for the twentieth time that day, and her homesickness disappeared. When he was absent, she was always sick with longing for him. It suddenly surprised Sakura that she had never felt more at home than when she was with this man. She had confessed this to him before, but when he was gone, it felt as if she was alone. Sakura would fall asleep with thoughts of him and miss him just as much the following morning. That feeling had disappeared on her journey and this was the first time the kunoichi had missed someone else since she had picked up her bag and followed Sasuke down the cobbled street that night a few weeks ago.

Mako’s statement returned her to the present moment from her thoughts. “Isao slept well last night. After you left with Gaara, he was distraught and restless after what happened. We ended up giving him your dosage of the sleeping medicine and he didn’t experience any sleep terrors.”

“That’s terrific!” she exclaimed, almost jumping for joy in her excitement. This was exciting news. If they could eliminate the terrors, then Isao would be okay. Maybe he could stop taking the medicine once his body adjusted.

“Satou, his father, however,” Mako began as they made their way back towards the center table towards Sasuke. “Well—he’s a bit hysterical in the hospital. The man definitely needs to be there, but we are not quite sure what to do for him. He’s actually the reason I came looking for you. I figure you might be the only one able to talk to him.”

Sakura nodded as they came to a stop and she set her items down. “I see.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

Sasuke had been thoroughly pissed when Sakura had announced to him her plans and handed him the bundle of paper-wrapped yellow flowers. “Will you grind these up for me while I quickly check-in on a patient? They should be dry enough on their own. We need to mix this in with the rest of our batch as soon as possible.”

The Uchiha nodded with a “hm” but had half a mind to shove the flowers and grinder toward Mako since he was inclined to be so damn helpful.

Apparently, she was duty-bound to go see some hospital patient with an attitude problem and Sasuke had guessed easily who it was. After seeing the bruises on her chest last night, it was hard not to think about this patient of hers. It settled like a knife between Sasuke’s shoulder blades as he began to pulverize the flowers in the mortar with the stone pestle. He glowered after the two medics as the door to the greenhouse swung to a shut behind them.

Sasuke knew that Sakura was aware of his eagerness to get the pills so he could return to his mission. And because she predicted this, Sasuke knew without a doubt that Sakura had played him. She had given him this little job to keep him occupied for a few minutes because he couldn’t put the task off. But what shedidn’t know was that it certainly wouldn’t take him as long as she hoped. Sasuke removed another heap of flowers from the paper and began to smash them forcefully.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .  

Sakura had managed to come up with a small plan in the few seconds after Mako had informed her about Satou, Isao’s hysterical father, whom Sakura and Gaara had placed under the care of the hospital yesterday. The first and most necessary part of her plan was to keep Sasuke busy and away from her patient. After seeing her teammate’s reaction to the small bruises on her chest last night, she didn’t want the two ninja to have the least bit of interaction.

The second part was to ensure that Isao was kept far, faraway from his father. If the child was showing any progress at all after having distance from him, then Sakura would be damned if Satou meant to screw that up. Trailing closely behind her, Mako confirmed her hope that Isao remained at the mental health children’s clinic and was being strictly supervised.

Finally, the last rocky bit of her plan was to try her best to remain calm and civil with Satou despite what she predicted his treatment of her would be. Sakura anticipated every bit of an angry temper and possibly aggression.

Having Mako with her made Sakura feel more reassured. In the back of Sakura’s mind, she knew she didn’t have anything to worry about because she could rely on her abilities as a ninja, not his, but it was still a comfort to have him with her as a steady, supportive presence.

When they finally reached Satou’s hospital room and they entered, Sakura gasped. Apparently, Satou had considered this place a prison cell rather than a patient room. The bed was tipped, and the curtain torn from the rod above the windows. The massive punched out crevices in the walls around them were threatening portraits of warning. Sakura heard Mako echo her surprise. Sensing their presence, Satou turned from the window and glowered at them.

“Glad to see my warden has finally come to see me,” the man spat viciously.

While Mako’s expression was one of disbelief, Sakura erased the emotion from her own, slipping on a blank pretense. Forget step three of her plan, then. It was obvious what kind of man Satou was. He had no respect or care in the world for anyone and her kindness would be seen as a weakness to bully her for. Pretending to be civil would be an entire waste of her time because Sakura recognized the hate in Satou’s eyes, glassy pools that reflected the darkness in his heart. How bitter it made Sakura—to see Sasuke’s formal self in one of her patients; how hopeless this conversation would be even though he was the one person who needed it the most.

Sakura believed this man deserved her gentlest persona, but Sakura had tried playing this game before and failed miserably with Sasuke. If Sakura—a former teammate and close friend—couldn’t have reached into the depth of Sasuke’s darkness and rip him from it, then how could she expect to be successful with an absolute stranger? She thought of Naruto and Gaara and how they might approach this. Adopting Naruto’s methods before, Sakurahad fought Sasuke to knock some sense into him, but Sakura couldn’t just go starting fights with her patients.

Confidence then. Sakura crossed her arms behind her back and raised her chin. “I’m not your warden; just someone who is trying to help you and your son.”

He began to laugh—that psychotic pitch that set Sakura’s heart racing. It frightened her to see that this man was more lost than she had thought. This wasn’t just a man who had taken his anger out on his son. “That’s what pisses me off the most about you leaf village filth. You think you have the right to march in and do as you please.”

Mako responded before Sakura could silence him, “Be careful what you say. Haruno-san is an honored guest of the Lord Kazekage and he asked for her assistance at the hospital.”

Well half true. I did invite myself here I suppose. Sakura didn’t correct Mako; Satou was completely prejudiced toward Konoha and its citizens.  She reminded herself to steer clear of the political past between their two villages. Satou’s next comment brought an immediate halt to Sakura’a analytical approach to reasoning with him.

“You’d think the Kazekage wouldn’t give his whores a false sense of entitlement in village they don’t belong in.”

It was hard to contain her inner voice at that moment, who happened to be screaming loudly. WHO THE HELL DOES THIS BASTARD THINK HE IS?

Sakura let out a calming breath and put hand on Mako’s arm who was surprisingly doing a good enough job for the both of them at giving this terrifying ninja a piece of his mind despite the aptitude gap.

Before she could respond, the door opened and someone stepped in. Seeing Sasuke momentarily took her aback because that powder job should have taken him at least 45 minutes to complete, yet here he was a mere 10 minutes after being assigned the task. He must have a question.

And then Sakura saw his face. A red and purple combination flashed towards Satou and Sakura’s stomach dropped to her feet. Had he just heard what Satou called her?

When Sakura reached him and placed a hand on his arm, his gaze snapped from Satou and landed on her. “Did you need something?” she asked kindly, assessing the situation and deciding to act casually. Maybe if she came off as unaffected by Satou’s comment, then Sasuke wouldn’t feel the need to react.

“Here,” he responded gruffly after recovering some composure, shoving the mortar she had given him earlier towards the space between them. “You said you needed this quickly didn’t you? Go on ahead and make the batch. I’ll talk to this guy.”

Sakura briefly savored the startled look on Satou’s face before turning her body towards Sasuke so she could whisper in private with her teammate. “Sasuke, I don’t think that’s—”

“It’s fine,” he softened his murmur to match her whisper. As he said this, his sharingan faded and his emotionless mask slipped back on. “Just a talk between ninja.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” came Mako’s eager voice behind her, “I’ll stay too. You go on ahead and make that batch before time runs out.”

Sakura snapped her head towards him, shaking her head with large eyes in silent begging, but Sasuke was the one who spoke. “I didn’t ask you to stay. You can leave too.”

“He stays,” Sakura volunteered, to which Sasuke glowered at her for. “A doctor must be present during an exam, after all.” This was most definitely not professional, but Sakura had used a “time” excuse to keep Sasuke busy earlier. Mako knew as well as she did that it didn’t matter what time the Ashuwa was added to the mixture, and he was using her lie against her. She didn’t know her friend of a medic could be manipulative like that. Mako knew she didn’t want to tell Sasuke that she had fibbed about it.

Grabbing the mortar, Sakura peered up into the Uchiha’s eyes, reconsidering her fear of the two ninja meeting. If Naruto or Gaara weren’t here, maybe Sasuke was the next best person to talk to him. Now that he had come back to the light, perhaps Sasuke could reach Satou in a way that Sakura wouldn’t be able to. Sometimes people who had experienced trauma would only listen to someone who had shared a similar pain. And it had been proven to her throughout the years that sometimes only monsters could understand monsters.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke waited until Sakura’s footsteps receded far enough down the hall before his eyes locked onto Satou for the second time.

“Uchiha. Uchiha Sasuke isn’t it?” Satou inquired, daring to speak first. “I never would have guessed I’d ever see your face again after the war.”

“Good. You know me.” Sasuke announced, fully entering the space and leaning against the right-most wall, just fifteen feet away from Satou in this small room. “Then you’re aware of the terrible things that I have done to better men than you.” To be honest, Sasuke hated to play the reputation card—in fact, he wanted to get as far from his past as possible, but he needed this bastard to know just exactly what he could still do to someone that pushed him far enough.

He noticed Mako shift excitedly at the left of the entrance. Apparently Mako was hoping for a show. Good, Sasuke thought, he needed to hear this too if the male physician had future plans to stay next to his friend.

Sasuke got straight to it. “The truth is that you’re not going to listen to anyone, so this is going to be a waste of time and breath.” Sasuke knew because he had been in this exact same frame of mind before.

“So why bother staying?” the man spat, rage leaking from his mouth like saliva from a rabid beast. Sasuke was correct in his analogy. Like Sasuke himself had once been, Satou was nothing more than a creature that there was no hope left for, and it needed to be taken out of this world. That’s what Gaara had practically told Naruto to do—take Sasuke out and do the right thing as his friend. It’s what Sakura had tried to do and failed.

But Naruto had done the impossible. With memories of his friend in his heart, Sasuke sighed and willed himself to put at least a little bit of effort into this for his friends’ benefit.

“For the sake of the woman you just called a whore. I care more about her and her goal than the few minutes I could be doing something more beneficial than talking to you.”  Of course, he would never tell her that.

Sasuke felt like there was no point in beating around the bush. His voice would give out if he continued talking at this rate. He reminded himself that he didn’t owe any explanation, any psychological nonsense, just the cold truth that Satou needed to hear. Despite how hard he might try, Sasuke wouldn’t be able to pull this off like Naruto. Naruto would have marched up to him like a bull, grabbed his collar, proceed to threaten him for saying such a thing to Sakura, and then somehow miraculously convince this man to change.

Sasuke on the other hand, was less predictable. Depending on which part of his life you looked at, Sasuke could have had several reactions to Satou’s comment. The Sasuke before Orochimaru would have been angry but level-headed, at most offering the man an analytical glare. Sasuke immediately post-cursemark would have gutted him in the same mania he had broken that sound ninja’s arms in the Forest of Death. Vengeance-bent Sasuke would have completely not cared at all. But the Sasuke he was now? Even though he was on his path of redemption now, something in him had become honed again, sharpened along with the internal acknowledgement that he had feelings for Sakura. Despite his accepting of the truth, Sasuke hadn’t anticipated feeling this defensive and this is what scared Sasuke the most about himself—his unpredictability.

When Sasuke had tried to sever his bonds, it was to eliminate the feelings that came with them. He had seen it as a weakness. If his attachments were few, then Sasuke could remain loyal to a way of life he hoped for, one of peace. But having Sakura near again and feeling responsible for her had Sasuke fearing for the worst about his character. He had relayed this concern to Naruto before he left the village several weeks ago. “What will keep me from the darkness? From choosing the path of revenge?” “I will,” Naruto had responded. “I’ll stop you.” If men like this were regular in Sakura’s life, how could Naruto guarantee that Sasuke wouldn’t snap one day and kill every single person who threatened to do her harm? What if one of them succeeded? Could Naruto prevent everything? Stop, Sasuke told himself. Stop thinking like that.

Satou didn’t laugh again for the entire conversation. He remained standing by the window, narrowing his eyes at Sasuke in wary consideration since the Uchiha had arrived—not scared necessarily, but an enemy weighing his odds and deciding to avoid major triggers. Smart, Sasuke thought. Not completely brain dead then.

As Sasuke was consumed in silent thought, Mako stepped in for him. It was the first time all day Sasuke liked the medic. “We know that your wife died. Is that the reason you are abusing your son?”

Unlike with Sasuke, Satou revealed his temper, like a bomb going off without warning. “WHAT I DO WITH MY SON IS NOBODY’S DAMN BUSINESS BUT MY OWN.”

Unaffected by the sudden rise in volume, Sasuke surveyed the damaged room around them. Satou sure made it look like he was being held against his will, but the truth was, Sasuke realized, that if Satou had truly wanted to leave, he would have. There was nobody physically stopping him from leaving. The only thing really holding him here was Gaara’s command. Ah, so that was it. Badmouth the Kazekage all he wanted, Satou still respected one thing and that was power.

Sasuke tested the theory with, “The Kazekage believes it is his business.”

“Everything is apparently his damn business,” Satou growled in his direction.

Sasuke immediately noted that this was not a shouted response like he did when Mako spoke. Sasuke deduced that Satou held enough respect for the people he feared. That included himself. Damn. How annoying; Sasuke was going to have to do all the talking after all. To be honest, Sasuke had just wanted to remove Sakura from the situation and came up with the “talking” part to get Sakura to leave. Now, he supposed he would have to deliver.

Mako tried reasoning with him again: “Does the child remind you of your wife? Is that the reason you mistreat him?”

Satou’s eyes grew wide at Mako’s question. “HOW DARE YOU-“

Forget it. Talking like this was getting them nowhere. Sasuke’s visual prowess was nowhere near restored, but what Sasuke planned to do wouldn’t take up much chakra anyway. This wasn’t his typical style, but trying to talk with this man sure as hell wasn’t his style either. Sasuke revealed the black tomoes of his right Sharingan, instantly immobilizing the man where he stood.

“What are you doing?” Mako asked with concern, walking up beside him. “You’re not going to use a genjutsu?!”

“Just shut up and stay out of it,” Sasuke announced in annoyance. “I am getting the answers.”

Satou’s mind was a black, fiery wasteland that Sasuke stepped out on. The ninja’s memories appeared before him like colorless corpses rising from the grave. Sasuke walked forward toward the past surveying memories in order from most recent to oldest. The first memory that shaped in the air before him had Sasuke considering deactivating the jutsu. Whether he had subconsciously looking for this memory or not, Sasuke didn’t know, but he watched it play out before him. His pink-haired teammate was standing her ground, glaring up into the face of the man whose memories Sasuke violated. Sasuke frowned in hatred at the image of his fingers jabbing into her chest. Satou was looking down at her with a ferocity that he had yet to display towards anyone else. Why?

On cue, another memory emerged, connected to this one and providing Sasuke with the answer he wanted. It was during the war and Satou was immobilized on a cot, bandaged and regaining consciousness. Pink hair came into the ninja’s vision as he tried to roll to the side. “Miss,” he called toward the female ninja. “Where am I?”

“Stay still,” Sakura ordered him, pushing him back down on the cot. “Your leg is severely injured and needs to remain immobile.” She began giving orders to her assistants when a boom suddenly sounded somewhere nearby. Satou watched as she got to her feet and headed in that direction as someone began screaming her name.

“My wife,” he croaked, trying again to rise. This time, no one stopped him as he began to fumble towards the line of patients, some unconscious, others screaming. “Rina,” he sobbed, searching the faces of the incapacitated. “Where are you?”

He finally found her in the back row and he began limping faster toward her. “Rina!” he screamed, falling to his knees beside the woman who was bloody almost beyond recognition. Sasuke looked away from the memory as Satou began searching with hands for the wound on her body. Somehow the woman had reopened her injury and was now bleeding through the bandaging.  When Satou found it, he began to moan. Satou clutched onto his broken wife and lifted her despite his leg. He was barely able to support her as he began limping back toward the medical professionals. “Haruno!” he tried to shout after the woman who had disappeared in the rising clouds of debris and dust. “Haruno!”

When a medic finally arrived to assist him, it wasn’t the one Satou had hoped for. “Please,” he begged them. “She’s dying—bleeding out!”

Sasuke saw the man’s world shatter on his face when the medic began to shake his head after checking the woman’s pulse. “I am sorry sir. She’s already gone.”

“No!” he began to scream, picking up his wife again and limping after the woman he believed could still save her. The memory ended after Satou disappeared into the rubble screaming after someone he clearly never found.

So that was it, Sasuke realized, stepping toward a new memory that materialized in the swirling darkness. He blamed Sakura for his wife’s death.

The next memory Sasuke played was Satou returning from the war and staring into the face of the child he and his wife had left behind. Sasuke was shocked at the resemblance the child held of Rina; Sasuke witnessed Satou experience the blow of pain that came at seeing the same likeness. When the child reached for him with tears in his eyes, Satou turned away from him, covering his anguished face and stepping past the threshold. Isao’s current caretaker reached for him to relieve his father’s neglect.

Sasuke felt like he had ashes in his mouth. He was more familiar with grief than anyone, but grief affected people in different ways. Sasuke both understood and didn’t understand. He didn’t dare go further; Sasuke knew what happened next concerning the child and didn’t want to see it for himself.

Deactivating his Sharingan, Sasuke withdrew from the black backdrop of Satou’s mind.

“What did you just do?” Satou asked, sinking to the floor on his knees and holding his head, an aftereffect that had Mako looking between the two ninja in fearful concern.

Sasuke saw no point in explaining to either of them. Satou was more than aware of what just happened. “I could erase a couple of those memories,” Sasuke explained to the whimpering man on the floor who gazed up at him in anger. “Is that what you want?”

Satou hesitated before saying, “You could really do that?”

“Is that what you really want?” Sasuke asked bitterly, “for someone to reach into your mind and take away all memory of your wife or child? To dishonor the both of them?”

“No,” Satou declared at that. “Not if it will remove them from my memory. The pain— just take that away.”

“Pain is a part of life and not something I can tamper with,” Sasuke deadpanned. “If you let it, your pain will turn into darkness, consume you, and taint every aspect of your life. Your son is the only thing you have left of your wife. You should value that and cling to that as your light.”

Sasuke understood what Sakura meant earlier when she told Sasuke her conversation with Gaara about the past generation affecting the next with their toxicity. Satou didn’t repond and Sasuke didn’t say anything else. He had said what he needed to although it left the Uchiha feeling like a hypocrite.

Turning to Mako, Sasuke declared, “Send the son to the Leaf’s mental health clinic; get him as far away as you can. The child needs to be in a different environment, or he will turn out like father. It’ll give Satou some time to reconsider what’s important to him.”

Opening the door, Sasuke thought twice before exiting. “Also,” he remarked to the man who began to sob on the ground. “The next time you lay your hands on my friend, you’ll have me to deal with, not the Kazekage.”

Satou began to scream in anger, throwing things against the walls again. The door swung shut behind Sasuke and Mako, closing the prisoner in his self-made cell.

[sabineelectricheart]

A Room Full of Clothes

Summary: Byleth is evicted from her apartment. Dimitri is ready to help her.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 4800

Notes: I wouldn’t call it fluff. God, no. But it’s kinda cute, in a way. I hope you like it.

The sun shone brightly over the edges of the Gronder Field as a new day begins in Remire. The citizens start their gruelling commute to Garreg Mach early, not to be late for their jobs in the city.

“Okay, I’m here!” Byleth wiggles an arm through the sleeve of her jacket before settling into the couch with the rest of her roommates. “I’m in a bit of rush, but I’m here, I’m ready and I’m ready to listen. Now, will you tell us why you’ve called this emergency meeting?”

Annette fidgets on the spot, standing in the centre of the living room. Her doe-like blue eyes flicker between the remaining three residents. Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain uneasily avoid their friend’s gaze. In fact, they avoid looking at anything other than the walls of their apartment.

Byleth furrows her brow, narrowing her eyes in question to their strange behaviour.

“What’s going on?” Byleth begins slowly.

When none of them dares to make eye-contact, she turns to Felix, who sits closest to her on the couch.

“Don’t look at me.” The bluenette huffs, throwing his hands up defensively and with the usual angry edge to his voice. “I am not the one who called this little sham of a meeting, Annette did.”

The man looks pointedly at their roommate standing, urging her to get over whatever it was. Felix was never a patient person.

Byleth frowns, turning her attention back to the redhead who is nervously gnawing at her lower lip. The sinking feeling in her gut tells her nothing good is going to come from this “emergency meeting”, and something tells her, from the way her roommates are refusing to make eye contact, there was nothing last minute about this gathering.

“Byleth, you know you’re my best friend, and a very good friend to all of us!” She says the latter in one rushed breath.

“Why do I get the feeling like you’re all about to breakup with me?” The woman in question mutters, earning herself a snort from Sylvain for the trouble. She, then, tries to catch Ingrid’s and Felix’s eyes, but they were much too busy staring at the carpet.

Annette does not hear her, or does not care to, and continues to trample over her own words.

“We were thinking, with the end of our school year and everything coming up so soon this summer. Oh, this isn’t easy!” She stutters, fingers fumbling together.

The sight makes Byleth uncomfortable and she frowns. Cold dread rushes up her spine. “What’s going on?”

Felix sighs. “Come on, Annette. Just spit it out! It’s just Byleth, for the Goddess’ sake!”

“We were wondering if you’re considering moving in with Dimitri?” The young physicist blurts out.

A heavy silence falls over the five, all sitting uncomfortably next to each other, with the exception of Annette, who had the misfortune of stand before them. Her fists balls up tightly, her eyes quickly scanning Byleth’s usually neutral face in a sad effort to read her thoughts.

The blue-haired schoolteacher breaks the silence with a nervous chuckle, waiting for them to tell her at any moment this is all some joke. When no one says anything after another loaded beat of silence, she whips her head between Sylvain and Annette, before craning her head to read Ingrid and Felix’s sheepish expressions.

“Excuse me, what?” She lets out another uneasy laugh.

Ingrid sighs, finally looking up from the spot on the ground she has been fixating on.

“I think what we are all trying to say, or ask, is … You and Dimitri have been getting pretty serious over the last year, and we’re all very glad for that. We also think that it’s a bit inevitable, taking from how often you stay over at his place, that eventually you’re going to move in with him.”

Heat flushes Byleth’s face and she gapes flabbergasted at the strange scenario unfolding in her living room. Where her roommates have decidedly taken it upon themselves to ask her an intimate question she had not even considered, or discussed, with her own boyfriend.

The young woman shakes her head bemused.

“What are you guys talking about? Dimitri and I have been together a while, yes, but I live here.” She jabs a finger on the sofa’s cushion to emphasise her irritation. “Where is all of this coming from?”

All four others exchange quiet, nervous glances and fall deadly silent.

Byleth’s frown deepens. “Are you guys worried I’m going to stop paying rent or something? Because I’m not, I know I live here and I’ll keep paying my share of the bills. Just because I spend a lot of time by Dimitri doesn’t mean…”

“Would someone just… Tell her, please?” Felix scoffs.

“Why don’t you, emo boy?” Sylvain snaps, and the bluenette shuts up and sulks.

“What are we supposed to think? You’re hardly ever here!” Annette interjects and Byleth’s attention snaps back to her. “In the last three months, you’ve probably been home a grand total of one week and that’s just to do your share of the chores and to get a fresh set clothes.”

“I don’t have any plans to move in with Dimitri anytime soon, and if I had, I’d like to think I’d discuss it with him first and then you guys before leaving.” The girl with the blue hair crosses her arms over her chest. Her brow furrows in anger, wondering why the people she trusts the most are testing her. “I’m trying to wrap my head around this. Are you guys upset, or… I don’t know, that I’m not really home to hang out?”

There’s a hasty chorus of disagreement and a snort from Sylvain.

“No! Of course not. We’re all happy you and Dimitri were able to work things out and be together. None of us miss either of you sulking on the hallways because of heartache, trust me. It’s just…” Annette’s shifty eyes dart around the face of her roommates again before dropping her voice to a near whisper. “Somebody could be living in that room. Garreg Mach is really expensive and it’s hard to find somewhere to live comfortably at a reasonable price.”

“I know that, which is why I pay one-fifth of the rent.” Byleth says a little stung by the comment. “I could make more of an effort to be here, you’re right about that, but I…”

Suddenly it all clicks, and after nearly three years dealing with shy kids trying to make sense of their own emotions, Byleth can practically see the puzzle pieces aligning perfectly together. A surge of hot energy courses through her. Betrayal and anger flare up.

“Oh my star!” Byleth gasps, jaw slacking as the realisation dawns on her. Her friends collectively tense at her tone. “You have someone for the room already, don’t you?!”

“See!” Annette’s eye grow wide. She nervously points an accusing finger at Byleth. “You’re calling it the room, not even my room.”

“That is not the point!” The woman adds flustered. “And you’re not even denying it!”

“Okay, okay.” Sylvain wheels himself between Annette and Byleth. “I think we all need to take a step back and reassess. Byleth deserves a proper explanation and we’ve done a terrible job so far.”

Felix shakes his head, rolling her eyes and Ingrid awkwardly scratches at her eyebrow.  

Falling to him, the redhead gives his friend a pained smile and gently tells her, “Byleth, I think what Annette is trying to say is that we may have jumped the gun a bit and promised your room to someone else.”

She rubs her creased forehead, trying to wrap her head around the mess.

“Why…” Byleth begins slowly, letting out a loud sigh and trying to stifle her anger into a passive voice. “…Would you offer my room to someone before even talking to me? Can’t you guys just tell them, I don’t know, sike?”

Annette and Sylvain share another anxious glance, trying to trade off the responsibility of telling the irate blackbelt in more martial arts they care to know the truth.

“One of our, ahem, friends in common told Annette she was struggling to find a place since the lease on her place was running out and well…” Sylvain scratched the back of his head, what he usually did whenever he felt nervous. “I think, our Annette here saw a colleague in need and… Offered up your room.”

They have hit Byleth in her weak spot, pulling at her heart strings and targeting the softness at the core of her nature. She opens her mouth, trying to come up with a solution before Annette hits her with the devastating, closing blow:

“It’s Dorothea.”

“Sylvain’s girlfriend?” Byleth groans, burying her face in her hands. “Why doesn’t she sleep on his room?!”

“She’s a model, you see.” Said man interjects with a moronic smile. “She owns too many clothes and shoes and make-up. Between her stuff and my stuff, we wouldn’t have any space.”

“Oh, so I’m being evicted, not so Dorothea can move in, but her clothes?!” The woman bawled. “What the fuck?!

Ingrid scoots closer and runs an arm, hopefully reassuring, around her friend’s shoulder. “It’s not like that, Byleth. Dorothea really needs a place to stay, and, well, you really don’t.”

The blue-haired woman glares at the blonde. “Easy for you to say, Ingrid. You’re engaged, why don’t you move in with Glenn?”

“Glenn lives in Fraldarius, Byleth.” The blonde biochemist responded, as if it was obvious.

“And Dimitri lives in the Upper City. Your point?” The other shot back.

She wishes the four of them had collectively shot her. It would hurt less. She stands up abruptly and shoulders her bag once more before heading for the front door.

“I need to go clear my head.” Byleth declared, picking up her keys from the table and walking to the door. “I can’t talk about this right now. I’m going to be late.”

No one moves, except for Annette, who looks like she is about to bolt after the young teacher, but Felix stops her.

“Oh, yeah? Where are you headed tonight?” Sylvain smugly calls out after Byleth, who glares at him before slamming the door.

*_*_*_*_*

When she arrives at Dimitri’s apartment, thirteen hours later, letting herself in with her own set of keys, the rich smell of oregano and sharp cheddar envelopes her seductively. Dedue must have stopped by.

The blond man can tell by the way Byleth storms in without so much of a greeting and the hasty way she unpacks the wine from her carrier bag that she is in a bad mood. She does not even bother petting or cooing at Rufus, aptly named after her boyfriend’s hated uncle, when it desperately whines at her heels.

Standing on the kitchen door after setting the dinner plates, Dimitri quirks an eyebrow at her. “Delays on the cable car again?”

His girlfriend remains eerily silent, opening and closing a few drawers and cabinet doors. Angry at her comfort and ease at which she can move around his apartment, finding exactly what she was looking for, where she was looking for it.

Dimitri continues to observe her. Eyes scanning, analysing, as she sets down two wine glasses with a clink. Impatiently, the resident uncorks the wine bottle and with a loud, long glug she pours the cheap red wine.

After handing Dimitri his glass, she gingerly-yet-decidedly taps hers with his and takes one long gulp. Byleth finally meets his eyes and pulls her drinks away, exhaling noisily.

“I’m getting kicked out of my apartment.” She declares, monotone. “I’m getting kicked out because of clothes.”

Dimitri freezes, wine glass suspended at his mouth. Out of all the reasons why she stomped into the house, this was not one of the scenarios he had prepared for. She downs the rest of her wine before pouring herself another generous serving.

“The tribe has spoken. I’ve been voted off the island. Big Brother has evicted me. I am the weakest link. I didn’t get a rose. Sashay away. I’m running out of TV catch phrases here, Dimitri.”

Byleth moves to the other side of the room and towards the couch, Rufus following closely behind her. When she plops down unceremoniously, she finally gives in and scratches the dark-brown Labrador behind its ear.

Dimitri throws a glance over his shoulder, ensuring the food his housekeeper brough over in the afternoon was covered before following the exasperated woman.

His eyebrows tightly knit together. “What do you mean you’re being kicked out?”

Byleth fills him in on why she is so frustrated, explaining the unwitting part that Dorothea played on the whole mess and recapping the details of the stupid living room meeting but overtly sidesteps the reasoning her roommates used to indirectly oust her from their home.

“Why do I get the feeling that there’s more to this than you’re letting on?” Dimitri says coolly, seeing through her as if she was made of glass.

He takes another drink of the terrible wine she has thoughtlessly chosen and fixes her with a serious stare. Byleth averts her blue eyes back down to her lap, heat prickling at her cheeks and ears. At the thought of presenting her boyfriend with the same words Annette had used calls a wave of embarrassment to wash over her.

She lets out a loud breath, the dark strands of her fringe blowing up briefly. She turns her head and meets his concerned gaze. “They did it because they’re expecting me to move in with you.”

The stillness that follows unnerves the older woman. Byleth cannot read Dimitri’s expression, and a rush of emotions surge through her. Mortified, she busies herself by petting Rufus’ eager head.

She is about to open her mouth again, on the verge of taking it all back, but then he speaks. “I wasn’t sure when to bring it up.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The woman balks.

Dimitri’s words take her by surprise, blowing her over in the complete opposite direction she anticipates. It is his turn to let out an exasperated sigh and takes a long drink as Byleth watches him nervously, gripping onto a spare throw pillow.

“Bring what up?” She asks, softly, trying to calm him down.

“I can see why they would think that.” He averts his gaze, toying with the stem of the wine glass. “You… Have been spending a lot of time here.”

“I have not!” She interrupts, but the man pays her no mind.

“I can see where they’re coming from. Most of your belongings are here. Your clothes, your class logs, your books, your plants, even your dog!” Dimitri lets out a chuckle.

Byleth stiffens. “They’re cacti and I can take them back to my apartment. I can clear out my drawer and take my paperwork, that’s not an issue, and I just keep Rufus here because Felix is allergic. I’m sorry if I’ve made myself too comfortable, but I…”

His large, comforting hand cuts her off mid-sentence, finding a spot on her lap.

“I don’t want to give you just a drawer.” He interjects.

The words die in her throat, mouth opening and closing a few times before she tilts her head quizzically. “What are you saying?”

Dimitri places his near-empty glass of wine on the coffee table, littered with her medical journal printouts.

“Well, you’ll be 29 soon…”

“And you’re 27, spring chicken.” Byleth smacks his arm with the pillow she holds.

Dimitri goes quiet, shooting her a deadpanned and exhausted look.

“I wasn’t meaning it as an insult, if you would just listen.” He mutters, clearly miffed at the jab at their age difference. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, Byleth, is that you’re almost finally graduating college. I know you don’t like staying put for too long and you might want to move out of Garreg Mach altogether now, but if you choose to stay here…”

A pause weighs heavily on the living room environment. The man breathes out before continuing, feeling extremely bashful for broaching the subject.

“Well… Haven’t you… Haven’t you ever given it any thought on whether you’d like to live here with me?” His cheeks prickle pink at the words.

She feels like she is wading through a daydream, stomach somersaulting at the soft look he is giving her.

“Of course, it has crossed my mind. You know I like the school where I teach and I love my students. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She plays with the frayed-ends of the pillow’s cover. “We’ve been together for a little over a year, everything’s been great and I love you—oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not like it’s a secret.”

A smug, coy smirk tugs at corners of his mouth and Byleth gives him another light whack with the pillow.

Another chorus of quiet laughter erupts from Dimitri, chest bouncing as he shields himself from the woman’s attack. “Okay, so would you care to elaborate what’s holding you back from moving in with me?”

Byleth freezes as his words, out in the open between them for the first time. Somewhere deep inside she resents her closest friends for forcing her hand to have this conversation. There is also a smaller hidden part of her that is so very grateful for them.

“It’s not that easy…” She mutters, anxious hands lavishing Rufus with attention.

Dimitri frowns. “Is it because you don’t want to move in with me?”

“No!” Byleth hurriedly responds, snapping her attention back to the young financier. “It’s not that.”

“Okay, humour me.” Dimitri studies her, silently intrigued by the challenge he has just posed. “Why not?”

“Where to begin? Oh, right, how about the fact that I can’t pay my share of the rent in the Upper City?” Byleth grumbles.

Despite her mother coming from wealth, Byleth’s life was always fraught with modest means. She had to delay going to college to raise some funds, and even then, she worked hard throughout her four years of education to get herself through it. It might be prideful of her, but she would not start relying on her moneybags boyfriend to pay all her bills when she finally was able to feel the coveted piece of paper in her hands.

Dimitri tenses. “Uh… Byleth, I own the townhouse. I thought you knew that.”

His attention uncomfortably shifts when Byleth’s jaw slacks.

“No, I did not know that, Dimitri,” she hisses.

He clears his throat. “Well, rent wouldn’t be an issue because I own the apartment. That is, in another three years, when I’m finished paying off the mortgage.”

Nervously, Byleth runs a hand through her hair. “Okay…” she starts slowly, trying to process the new information. “And how much is your mortgage—hey,” she scolds him when he opens his mouth to protest, eyes narrowing. “If you want to live together, I need to know these things, especially if I’m going to have to pull my weight in living costs.”

Dimitri’s frown deepens and he crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “I wouldn’t ask you to pay the mortgage, Byleth.”

The woman scoffs. “Then am I meant to just freeload and sit around your apartment, looking pretty, not contributing to the water, gas, electric bills?”

“You can contribute to the bills, and looking pretty wouldn’t hurt either, especially in that number you wore on my birthday, but I won’t have you paying towards the mortgage, it’s preposterous.” Dimitri reiterates, his light blond eyebrows knit together.

“Well, then I’m not moving in.” She pouts, arms also coming to cross over her chest.

He challenges her silence for a minute, then two, and after a year of being involved with the strong-headed teacher, he reconsiders.

With a defeated sigh, Dimitri reaches for Byleth’s forgotten notepad and pen on the coffee table. He scribbles quickly before loudly ripping the page out. He scrutinises her with a glare as he folds the page in halves, quarters, eights before reluctantly handing it over to her.

When Byleth smooths out the creases of the paper, she coughs loudly, awkwardly, at the figure staring back at her.

“Those are a lot of zeros.” She chokes out, eyes nearly bulging out of her head. “I can’t afford that. You know I can’t afford that. I teach kindergarten, for goodness sakes. That’s my dad’s yearly income. Double. By just sitting here, I’m practically depreciating the value of your home.”

The blond shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to pay for anything.”

“If we’re going to have a serious conversation about me moving in with you, you need to understand I do not want to live here rent-free.” Her face wrinkles in distaste for the idea.

“Then pay me what you’re paying in rent now at your current place.” Dimitri says defeated.

“No,” Byleth shakes her head decidedly and the man lets out another loud, exasperated breath. “No way. I didn’t take any handouts from my grandmother when she offered them, I won’t be taking them from my boyfriend, thank you. I am very much aware of our financial discrepancy, Dimitri.”

She crumples up the piece of paper and buries her face into the pillow. Money and social class have always been a sore spot between her and her friends. Felix and Sylvain were shamelessly rich, they were only slumming in Remire. Annette was definitively upper middle class, and Ingrid, while falling in a rough spot financially, was definitively marrying up next Spring.

That is not all. While they were all younger than her, they all had finished college and moved on to high-paying jobs, while she was stuck going to school every night because she had to work barely-over minimum wage. It was humiliating at times.

Now, her boyfriend wants her to move into his townhouse and become some sort of post-modern Stepford wife and it all seems so meaningless to her. She struggled to get herself where she is, all the way from when she was a little child and she had to say goodbye to whatever friend she made because her father had to move them to where there were work to now. If she caves in to Dimitri, what was even the point?

In the end, she knows that money is freedom, and she does not want to lose hers.

“This isn’t what I had planned. I was supposed to save up enough money to rent out my own little apartment by the end of next year. A grungy little place just for me, where you can finally come over and be forced to take cold showers in the shitty water pressure. A place in a neighbourhood where you’d tell me to call you every time I get home to make sure I got in okay. Not this!” She looks up to gesticulate wildly at his grossly luxurious living room.

“I’d ask you to call me when you got home regardless of where you choose to live.” He adds softly, hand on her thigh drawing comforting shapes.

“I don’t know what to do.” Byleth adds quietly, anxious hands once again petting an alert Rufus. “Our friends have accidentally kicked me out because they’re just… Well-meaning dickheads. And I know this is the next step for us, I just wish we had a say in it. Now, I have no choice but to accelerate my masterplan of winning the Imperial Lottery to afford living here. Twice.”

An uncharacteristically loud laugh erupts from Dimitri.

“You’re laughing, but I mean it. Even when I get my degree, I’ll have to work four jobs just to pay that stupid mortgage of yours.” Byleth adds seriously, slightly peeved at her boyfriend’s reaction.

“I know.” He replies coolly, almost smiling. “And I live to see the day when that happens, beloved. I just wish you’d hurry up already so I can finally retire and be a kept man.”

“Ha!” She giggles madly at the imagery it evokes, shoving him playfully and causing a wild grin to break out on his face. “The great Dimitri Blaiddyd, the Boar Prince of mergers and acquisitions, retired. What would you even spend your time doing? Going to the matinee and evening opera?”

“Which brings up another logistical point.” He begins thoughtfully. “If you move in, wherever will you run away to when you don’t want to go to the opera with me? You won’t have ‘last minute plans’ with your roommates or ‘pressing chores’ you have to complete at your apartment.”

She flushes. Clearly she is not as sly as she thinks she is.

Byleth changes the topic hastily. “Shouldn’t you be at least a little bit more… I don’t know… Opposed to us living together?”

Dimitri quietly considers her question as a hand comes up to rub the scruff on his jaw. Byleth immediately scolds herself for stupidly bringing on her own demise. Why would she question her boyfriend, with a notorious history of flighty behaviour, if he really wants to do this?

At this rate, she will be living in a cardboard under the Airmid River bridge. She wonders if her Uncle Seteth would let her sleep in Flayn’s room, now she is off to college in Fhirdiad.

“We’ve practically been living together for the last three months.” He says with a shrug, surprising Byleth. “I might’ve been disinclined about the notion a year ago, but… it’s as you said: everything’s been great and I love you.”

It is her turn to grin ear-to-ear at the words, she enjoys hearing the ease at which he uses them.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind lately, at an alarming frequency, if I may add.” He continues, clearing his throat and the hand on her thigh squeezes lightly. “I just never knew when it would be the right time to… Bring it up. I meant what I said earlier, I want to give you more than just a drawer. I want your cacti, your muddy shoes, your impressive collection of military history books. Those overpriced scented candles, your terrible, terrible, choice in wine, the way you somehow always manage to slam the door on your way out, how excited your demon dog gets when it knows it’s you unlocking the door. I want this to be your home too, Byleth. I want you to have your home with me.”

She swallows thickly. It might be the two heaped-glasses of terrible wine finally kicking in or the unguarded expression Dimitri wears so beautifully on his tired face, but the emotions are bubbling to the surface. They start as a prickle at the corners of her eyes and a stinging sensation in her nose.

A tear or two slip out, and before she can stop it, a goofy grin splits across her warm face. The hand on Byleth’s lap finally leaves its comfortable, warm spot. His thumb swipes at the rogue tears and Dimitri offers her a shy smile.

“Okay.” She says hoarsely, nodding slowly.

“Okay.” He echoes, blue eyes searching her face and the smile on his brightens by the second.

The hand resting on her face brings her towards him and their lips meet. His mouth slanting over hers in a new kiss, one they have never shared before. One that has always been waiting for them. It is painfully soft, reassuring, and feels like home. It feels like the kiss she has been searching for her whole life, and it has been waiting for her all along, right in the middle of this living room, on a Friday night, with the promise of a future waiting for them.

Maybe she owes her roommates an apology, and maybe a ‘Thank You’ card while she is at it.

The timer rings out loudly and Rufus’ barking follows. The alluring waft of potato gratin fills the house, their house, more prominent than before.

When they pull apart, her watery eyes find his, and they share a laugh at the silly looks on their faces.

“On one condition, though.” Byleth whispers, and they are still so close she can feel his breath ghosting across her lower lip. Dimitri quirks an eyebrow, somehow anticipating this request will be one her of lovely idiosyncrasies. “I still get to run away when you ask me to join you at the opera.”

Dimitri does not answer. Growling at Byleth’s vexing behaviour, he pounces on her and she fills the apartment with loud, raucous giggles while Dimitri lavishes the most sensitive part of her neck with ticklish kisses, beard relentlessly adding to the sensation.

They spend the remainder of the evening hashing out logistical details over wine and food. They fall into a comfortable routine, one they have never before noticed had always been there.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[forkanna]

NOTICE: Characters and locations ©Atlus. This fic and story ©2019-2020 me! All rights to their respective owners. Mature rating for sensual situations and dialogue. Canon (slight) divergence. Based on vanilla P4 since that's what I played (Sorry, Marie fans). Names are in Western order. Title adapted from the boss battle music. Cover art by 7aho.

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NOTES: This one isn't going to be quite as in-depth or long as my P5 fic (and also a lot lighter in the plot department haha). Apologies for all the exposition within the first couple of pages. I always attempt to make the fic accessible for readers who don't know anything about the fandom if I can, but try to keep it short.

And for those of you waiting... don't get mad at me for not putting out very much Elsanna lately. I promise you, it IS coming. LOTS of it. I just have to have proper motivation or it will turn out not so great. Thank you for your patience!

                                                     CHAPTER ONE

None of this was right.

The spooky old castle seemed to press in on Chie Satonaka from all sides as she tore down hallway after hallway, the sound of her loafers echoing off the flagstones. Nevermind how bizarre it was that she was in another world — which she was never going to get used to, even if she came and went a thousand times — but her childhood companion and best friend in the whole world being in danger was more important. She didn't have the luxury of being thunderstruck.

Chie and her friends had gone back and forth so often about the Midnight Channel. Was it real? Was it a scam, a mere urban legend? Mass hallucination? Nobody outside of the sleepy little town of Inaba had ever heard of it, or seen it happen; purely a local paranormal phenomenon. As the story went, if you watched your television with its power turned off at midnight, during a rainstorm, you could see something. Some versions even claimed the person you saw on the screen was your soulmate.

However, that was where fantasy ended and grisly reality took over. The two previous instances had shown women that later turned up dead — and not just on TV. Their corpses hung upside down from power lines and rooftops. In this most recent case, they had all seen Yukiko Amagi in the TV — first as a blurry shadow, and now in vivid high definition.

If it really was Yukiko. That woman in the screen looked and sounded nothing like her best friend, even if it was her face and voice. The garish pink princess dress was so unlike her! Not to mention the obscene thirst for boys from such a timid, polite girl… Chie could remember each word with crystal clarity:

"Goooood evening! Tonight, Princess Yukiko has a big surprise! I'm gonna go score myself a hot stud! Welcome to 'Not A Dream, Not A Hoax; Princess Yukiko's Hunt For Her Prince Charming!' And I came prepared — I've got my lacy unmentionables on, stacked from top to bottom! I'm out to catch a whole harem, and the best of the lot is gonna be all mine! Well, here I gooooo!"

Every deranged syllable had come from someone else's mind. It had to be a sick joke! Still, there was no other explanation for where her best friend had gone. Unreachable by phone or email, and her parents didn't know where she was, either.

The other world was their only lead. And since Yu had previously shown her and Yosuke that they could actually go inside, as long as the screen was large enough to step through… that was that. Insane as it was, they had all jumped through a big screen TV into a parallel dimension to rescue their friend.

But staircase after staircase flashed past, rich red curtains and glittering chandeliers, with no sign of Yukiko. The shadows pulled at Chie from all sides exactly as the boys had described. Maybe it was her bright green-and-yellow windbreaker that caught their attention, or maybe it was that someone was invading their realm. She didn't belong in Yukiko's palace. Or at the very least, the shadows of the Midnight Channel thought she didn't, and probably were equally distrustful of the boys.

Speaking of which, where were they? She could have sworn both Yu and Yosuke were right behind her… and that weird red-and-blue bear thing, whatever his name was. They had tried to insist she stay behind because she was a girl, not strong enough to fight in spite of her kung fu training, and now they were the ones who couldn't keep up?! She almost wanted to turn back and give them a good kick in the-

"Chie told me that red looks good on me…"

The words nearly made Chie trip over her own feet and go down hard. "Yukiko?!" Where was it coming from? She turned this way and that, trying to find the source, but saw no one. The voice kept going, talking about how much she didn't like her name. How she thought she was worthless. She tried to tune out the harsh words themselves, merely focusing on the direction they were coming from and attempting to follow.

But as she barrelled through an ornate set of double doors, looking for the next flight up… the subject matter changed. And she couldn't ignore the words anymore.

"Chie was the only one who gave my life meaning. She's bright and strong, and she can do anything! She has everything that I don't. Compared to Chie, I'm… I'm…"

"HEY!" she shouted. "I'm coming, Yukiko! Hang on!"

However, the disembodied voice only continued, without any obvious source now. How could it come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time?! "Chie protects me; she looks after my worthless life. And I… I don't deserve any of it… Chie is so kind."

The words burned almost as badly as the tears burned her eyes. This was wrong. Something about it sounded right, sounded satisfying to her, but she didn't want to examine it too deeply. All she wanted was to save her best friend and get her out of this nightmare palace.

"I know, right?"

That was not Yukiko.

"What the-" Her eyes swivelled to the side and saw a girl running backwards. She was about her minimal height, a little over five feet… had the same chestnut-brown bowl cut. The same green jacket. The same…

The same. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," the doppelganger laughed as she easily jogged backwards and kept pace with her, no worry for running into anything. She never did. It was as if this other Chie, this fake, had eyes in the back of her head or rearview mirrors that only she could see. "I bet you knew you'd be seeing me sooner or later."

"What are you?!" Chie demanded of the impostor.

"Don't ask stupid questions," she laughed, voice distorted. "Let's cut the bullshit. And I mean Yukiko's bullshit."

"What… do you… what are you saying?"

Waving a hand up toward the roof, she went on, "Yukiko thinks you're 'so kind'. That you protect her, right? We know that's not what you want from her at all." When she didn't respond, the clone smirked. "You're thrilled to death she depends on you. The most beautiful girl in school, and she needs you — some grubby little bitch who couldn't tell eyeshadow from lipstick. Man, do you get a charge out of that!"

"I… I do not!" she shouted, trying to put her head down and run faster — to ignore this pretender. She had been warned that there were frightening shadows all around them, and this was further proof; it was a trick. One she refused to fall for.

"Where ya goin'?" the clone pouted as she sped up to match pace. "Gotta go save your princess? Of course you do. She can't do anything while you're not around. Helpless like a lost puppy, right?"

Teeth gnashing, she snarled out, "Yukiko is not a puppy!"

"But you wish she was. If she was a helpless dog, yipping around your heels… then you would be set, wouldn't you? What else would you need with a devoted, needy little bitch to boss around?"

"I… excuse me?! What did you call her?" Chie finally stopped, turning to snarl at the girl who stopped as easily as if they had planned this weeks ago. "She's not a bitch! A-and she's not helpless! So you can shut up and go back to wherever you came from, because I have a friend to save!"

And then she left her in the dust.

Determination radiated off her entire body as she leapt over one of the shadows, landed on the face of another and demolished it. They seemed to sap her endurance a little at a time, but she also felt stronger somehow with each one she defeated. Just like training in her secret hideout when she was little; she might be getting tired now, but she would be able to handle more next time.

"You're right."

Her jaw tightened. "Thought I told you to leave me alone."

"You said to go back to where I came from," Other-Chie corrected with a Cheshire cat grin. "And I did! Right here with you!"

"Yukiko needs me! So unless you're going to help me save her-"

"Are you kidding? Like I said, you're right; she's not really that weak. Yukiko doesn't need you. It's the other way around, isn't it?" That shut her up, so the shadow went on, "You don't know the first thing about being a girl. So terrible at it. And she's kind, and sweet, and trusting. What are you?"

"I… I'm her friend."

"No, you're really not," she laughed loudly, harshly. The beginnings of fresh tears stung the back of her throat as she took the next steps two at a time, wishing desperately that she could ditch this unkind spectre. "Because that girl cares about you, and all you care about is that she does. You don't actually like her at all; you find her too quiet, too meek. Too pretty."

"That's not-"

"But she does depend on you. And hey, why should you ditch her when she's so devoted to you? Keep her on the end of your leash like the bitch she is."

"STOP!" Chie begged — and went down hard when her shoe tripped over the top stair, rolling a couple of times onto her side. Her knee had borne the brunt of the fall and now it throbbed in pain, and she automatically tried to massage it. "Just… just leave me alone, I… I do like her, she is my friend! My BEST friend!"

"Awwwwww, is she though?" More false pouting as she crouched over the real Chie. "Can she really be your friend if you want to keep her under your thumb? Totally codependent?"

Growling, she began to crawl forward, wishing she had a good pair of earplugs.

"Can't escape the truuuuth," she sing-songed.

"Go away."

"Just let yourself enjoy it. Give in. In fact… Yukiko is right on the other side of that door."

That made Chie sit up a little straighter. Was she really? Somehow, she knew it was true; she could sense a presence on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling double-doors now that they were so close.

"Yukiko?"

"That's right. So go in there and grind her under the heel of your boot. Show her that you're-"

Completely ignoring the rest of her shadow's words, Chie burst from the ground with renewed adrenaline and kicked open the doors.

"Yukiko!" But the princess didn't move. "Yukiko, what's wrong?!"

As she laughed, madly and maniacally, Yukiko did finally turn around. And she was just as otherworldly and demented as the Chie-clone that had been hounding her heels. Mostly, they looked the same, outfit notwithstanding; it was the eyes… they were almost golden, they blazed with such a yellow intensity. Something about them was most certainly wrong.

"Oh my! A prince has arrived! Things are really heating up!"

Gritting her teeth, Chie pointed at her and said, "No… you're not Yukiko. You're not her at all!"

"What are you talking about?" she gasped, full of false innocence. "I am she, and she is me! We are we."

"Oui oui," Chie's clone added with a light chuckle. A sick lurch shot through her stomach when she realised the clone had followed her inside. Now she had to deal with two of them.

"Oooh la laaaa," the false Yukiko giggled as she pressed an open palm to the center of her chest, just above her ample cleavage. "But I'm afraid if you really want to woo your princess, you'll have to wait! Deeper in, deeper in!"

The shadow of Chie approached her opposite number. Were they in league with each other? Rivals? Maybe they were part of the same being, a monster that wanted to manipulate the people that fell through the TV into this hellscape… but all she did was reach up and grasp at Yukiko's hair, snapping her head backward.

"AH!"

"I'll go deeper in," she promised with a little smirk. "And I don't want to wait."

"Mmhh! Yes, my Prince!" That obscenely lovesick look on her face made Chie turn away from them, throat tight with disgust. "But you can only have me here! I think she wants the other me!"

"Does she? Yes… yes, of course she does." She looked up in time to see the other Chie glowering down at her, despite the sinister smile. "Owning just one of you isn't enough; we need both of you in our cage."

Chie wanted to smack both of their heads together. But then something Yukiko had said pushed through to her: 'deeper in'. She knew where the real Yukiko was.

"Take me to her."

"Huh?" She tilted her head, silky black hair falling to the side. "Take you what where?"

"Don't play dumb. Just… take me to my best friend! You can do whatever you want to me, but I need to see her… I need to know she's okay!"

Against all her expectations, Fake Yukiko pouted instead of looking interested or pleased. "But that's not how this is supposed to work. You do whatever you want to me. Right? I don't wanna be the prince, I wanna be the princess!" And she actually began to sniffle a little.

"Hey, don't cry," the other Chie said with a slight chuckle, tightening her grip on the back of her hair. "I'll make you feel good if you don't cry."

"Y-you will?"

"Hey, HEY!" she shouted over the two of them. "Focus! How about this: I'll help her do that to you, whatever she wants — or I want, or whatever… if you take me to Yukiko first!"

"Oh!" The false Yukiko's face lit up with joy, cheeks turning as pink as her vile princess dress. "You promise? It's not worth it if you don't promise, I wanna hear you say it!"

"I promise. Now, can we get a move on?"

While Yukiko was giggling and literally bouncing up and down for joy, the other Chie started clapping, nodding in approval. "Daaaamn, I'm a little shocked, Satonaka. You're playing her like a fiddle. Thought you were going to insist you're nothing like me, but you're doing exactly what I would do. Bravo!"

"Just cut that out already and let's go," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. Then she felt herself being hoisted into the air. "Wha- WHOA! What are you doing?!"

"Just what you said," she sighed as false Yukiko hitched up her skirts and dashed through the other door toward the stairs. The other Chie fell in step behind her, toting the real one in a princess carry as easily as if she were a bag of flour. "Taking you to see both halves of your whole. Or should I say 'your hole'? Eh? Great pun, right?"

"Disgusting. I can't believe you can talk about her that way — and you call yourself another part of me!"

Her smirk should have been illegal. "Ohhh, but I am. And I see right through all of your bullshit. She's a trophy to you; an ornamental piece. A refrigerator magnet. No… more like, one of those cute little buttons you have pinned to the front of your jacket there." Her head nodded down at said buttons. The sleepy smiley face had always been her favourite, but now she just wanted to rip them off and throw them away. "Something you can wear around and show everyone. Maybe that's what the red one is, right? Is that your Yukiko button?"

"It's… my 'I love exercise' button. And if you're really me, you would know that."

"But it is red, like her favourite colour," she kept teasing.

"Sh-shut up. And do you have to carry me like this?! I can walk, y'know — like my button says!"

"It says you can walk?"

"No, it says I love- just shut up! GOD!"

Laughing openly at her, Other-Chie scoffed, "I'm faster than you. And I won't be a panting, sweaty mess when we get to the top floor… well, maybe once we're there…"

"Does everything you say have to be a double entendre?!"

However, she seemed to be dead on the money. In no time, they were at the top floor, and entering an ornate throne room. Somehow, the shadow Yukiko had gotten there ahead of them with enough time to spare that she could seat herself, and look as prim and proper as if she had been waiting for them for an hour. And there, at the bottom of the red carpet-lined steps leading up to the dais, was…

"YUKIKO!" Springing out of her double's arms, she ran forward and knelt by her side, curling an arm around her shoulders. This Yukiko was wearing a light pink kimono, as she typically did when working at her parents' very traditional Japanese inn.

"My, my, it's getting crowded in here," the shadow on the throne chuckled as she rose from her seat, stepping to the edge of the dais. "Why don't you and I go somewhere else? A land far, far away, where no one knows me. If you're my prince, you'll take me there, won't you? C'mon, pretty please?"

"Do you… mean me?" Chie asked hesitantly. She was a little worried about how the real Yukiko hadn't said anything yet, but curiosity would not let her ignore the shadow entirely.

"Of course, Chie! She's my prince. She always leads the way; Chie is a strong prince." Then she sighed and added, "Or at least, she was."

"Was?" the Other-Chie demanded, eyebrows shooting up.

"When it comes down to it, Chie's just not good enough. She can't take me away from here — can't save me! Historic inn? Manager training? I'm sick of all these things chaining me down — sick of everything being decided for me!"

"The hell I can't save you!" It was a disbelieving scoff, and the other shadow began to stride up the stairs as she continued, "I'm your prince, aren't I? I can do whatever I want with you. And you'll be grateful, because you know I won't let anything bad happen to you ever again. Well… nothing that I'm not doing to you myself."

Even while Chie herself was reeling in fresh disgust, the other Yukiko's eyes were widening. "You will? I m-mean… I really thought you couldn't help me escape my prison."

"I'll destroy your prison and make you a new one," Other-Chie said… and as she reached the top of the stairs, something about her changed. One blink, and she was identical to the real Chie; the next, a large crown appeared on her head to match the thin, delicate tiara on Other-Yukiko's head. The jacket stayed the same colour but turned into something more royal, with gold braids hanging down in loops over the shoulders. Medals replaced the buttons. And her school skirt became grey tights.

"A new one just for me?" Other-Yukiko gasped in wonder.

"Thick bars made of diamonds. The floor will be polished marble, your cot in the corner will be velvet…" Her hands smoothed up Yukiko's neck, gripping in the hair and tilting her head up. "And your collar will be made of the finest leather money can buy."

"Chie…?"

Her attention instantly diverted from the shadows to the real Yukiko Amagi. She was still huddled in her arms, dazed eyes finally focusing on the stairs, up at the two figures. Then turning to the one holding her.

"Yes?" she breathed. "Are you okay?"

"Chie, what… what is… going on? How did I get here?" Already, her eyes were watering as she whispered, "A-are we going to die?"

It wasn't that Yukiko was a coward, or a weakling. She was stronger than she knew. But she saw herself as weak and helpless. Chie had always tried to encourage her to train with her, thinking the kung fu might help offset that meekness, but she had shied away from it — insisting it would be seen as 'unladylike' by her extremely conservative mother. Frowned upon as something ill-suited for a girl who would one day help run the Amagi Inn to be caught doing.

"No," she whispered, a smile finally pulling at her mouth for the first time since she had entered the TV. "No way. I got your back."

"I've been s-so scared," she whispered fearfully as she trembled in her arms. "I don't know wh- don't know what's going on, but I kept thinking, if… if only you came… but how did you know where I was?"

"Boo hoo," Other-Chie jeered at them. And when she turned to look…

This was a very different scene now. Her princely green coat was now draped over her back like a cape, yakuza-style. The rest of her clothing was… something else. Was it some kind of metal bikini? Maybe it was gold; that would explain the yellow sheen. And between the thigh-high boots and opera gloves, and the smug look on her plain face… the outfit was definitely giving it a very specific connotation.

"Isn't it sickening?" Other-Yukiko sighed, shaking her head as her arms folded in front of her chest — in just the right way to push her breasts up. "They cling to each other like they're going to fall apart. And how can that other me just blubber and cry all the time?"

Other-Chie grinned and started sliding her hand up and down the small of her Yukiko's back. "Mmm, forget about them. The real Chie and Yukiko have business to attend."

"Ooooh," she giggled. "What kind of business?"

"Let's get out of here," the real Yuki whispered. "Just… j-just let them do whatever that is, and… and you and I can go back to Marukyu Tofu and… and have something for dinner, and w-we'll just… forget all about this. Okay? If… if you know the way out?"

Her eyes were so hopeful when she looked up at Chie. As always. That was the look that got to her more than she had ever wanted to admit. Which, unfortunately, contributed to how badly the shadow version of herself was getting to her with each and every word…

"Look at her face," said shadow snorted instantly, grinning wolfishly down at the original Chie. "She finally gets it. She sees the ugly black mold under the tatami that she had been pretending didn't stink for years. Yukiko Amagi is nothing but a tool to her."

"And she loves being a tool," her Yukiko breathed as she sat her Chie in the throne, then crawled into her lap, petting up and down her arms. "I know I do."

"Come on!" the real Yukiko whispered. "Can't we go away? Do you know the way home?"

"Y-yeah," Chie whispered. Then she cleared her throat and stood up. "We're going. Back the way we came; if we can get out of the castle, I think I can take us to where we can go back through the TV."

"Through the what?! I'm- WHOA! Chie-chan!"

Not wanting to mince words, she started dragging Yukiko away from the steps. The other girl couldn't move very fast, but it was as much about the restrictive kimono as it was her inferior athletic ability. But she would never give voice to it, never have complained about-

"Why is she SOOOO slow?!" Of course, Other-Chie said it for her. "Doesn't she ever even go outside? Pathetic!"

"Actually… there's something wrong, my Prince."

"What?"

"They haven't paid us back yet."

"Ohhhh. I believe you're — right!"

A loud din of jangling metal filled the air as Chie suddenly found herself stopped short, just a few more strides from the doors. When she looked down, she saw her arms were pinned to her sides by thick chains, and they were already trying to drag her back toward the throne.

"Hey!" she shouted, struggling. "What the hell is this?!"

"You promised!" Other-Yukiko wailed, pouting as the toothily-grinning Other-Chie dragged her back toward them, up the steps and onto the dais. It hurt, but her pride was wounded far more than her body.

"Promised wh… oh. OH! B-but you already have the other me, isn't that enough?"

"You're my prince! Why should I only want one of you when two princes who adore me is twice the fun?"

Her shadow chuckled. "She's got you there, Satonaka."

Now Chie had a dilemma. She could see Yukiko approaching the steps, expression panicked and worried for her best friend. And all she wanted was for her to escape, to save herself. Her entire goal in entering the TV was to get Yukiko out of there!

Then she thought about something else. There were more shadows than their two clones roaming those stone hallways; all manner of beasts and ghouls and assorted horrors. Yukiko was not a fighter; never had been. She still needed her. Even if she hated that she liked it, that didn't make it untrue.

"Alright!" she gasped out. "Okay, let me out of these chains, and… and I'll do it. I'm sorry, I forgot."

"You forgot?!" Yukiko asked incredulously.

"No, no, she did," her own shadow mused, eyes narrowed down at her. "So obsessed with Amagi that we stopped mattering, didn't we? You're as codependent as she is."

"Sure, yeah, whatever. Let's get on with it. What am I supposed to be doing?"

The eyes remained narrowed, but her smirk came into full bloom. "You know already."

"What? No, I really don't. Should I pull her hair like you did?"

"Chie?" asked the real Yukiko as the fake one smiled wider. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Yuki-chan. Really, it's… I promised them…" She didn't want to continue, but her shadow had other plans, and nudged her hard with her elbow. "I promised I would d-do whatever they wanted if they took me to you. And I mean… they did, so…"

As her friend looked stricken and confused, the false Yukiko nuzzled up against her side. "Do whatever you want to me. It's going to make me feel so safe, so loved! Like my prince cares about me!"

"But she's your prince!" she protested, nodding at the other Chie.

"We're both her prince. How are you still not getting this? No wonder our grades are in the toilet; we're just dumb as a fencepost, huh?" Then she picked up Chie's hands and guided them to the princess's neck. "Do what comes natural. Go on."

"What comes… natural…" Well, putting her hands on Yukiko's neck sure didn't feel that way. Even if this monster was a fake, it had her noble features, her little bow mouth… which was slightly parted in anticipation.

They wanted her to choke her. It hit her like a ton of bricks, and her hands shot away as if burned. Yukiko pouted, and Other-Chie rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Please, stop this," asked the real Yukiko, bowing politely. Just as she had been trained to do. "W-we just want to leave. Is that so wrong? We want to go home!"

"Not until she fulfils her promise," Other-Yukiko pouted. "And it's such an easy one! All she has to do is put me in my place like she already wants to do — everybody wins! I get to belong to my Prince, and she gets to enjoy owning me!"

Yukiko was revolted. "What are you saying?! You're a person, I- no, I'm a person, and so are you, and… who would want to be owned like they're some kind of thing?!"

"Why, we do, obviously. We want a hot stud to sweep us off our feet, so we don't have to think about anything at all! Not managing an inn, not grades, not responsibilities. Living the life of a pet sounds so inviting, doesn't it?"

As she went on, the real Yukiko was beginning to look despondent. And Chie knew why; because she was right — at least partially. It didn't mean she really wanted a life like that, but as she was now beginning to understand, it meant there was a part of Yukiko that found the idea of running away from everything that was expected of her to be an extremely appealing notion. And that it distorted the bonds of their friendship. All the things she had heard Yukiko saying before, echoing off the walls… those were probably her honest feelings and wishes. Everything the shadow spouted was the worst possible version of said feelings.

"Well, I'm not going to do this forever," Chie warned them with a sigh as she reached into the shadow Yukiko's hair and scratched behind her ear. "But I will for a little while. I did promise, I guess."

"Mmm," she hummed, and the false Chie also watched with satisfaction. "My prince… it feels so good, I'm so yours…"

"Doesn't she have any self-respect?" the real Yuki muttered. But it was loud enough they could hear her.

"She doesn't. You know that she doesn't and you don't." Other-Chie began to stride down the steps toward her, a red whip appearing in her hands, already pulled taut. "But while they're busy… would you like to find out how they're feeling up there? So boring, sitting around on the sidelines."

Instantly, the real Chie stepped away from the pet, letting her fall onto her elbows from the unexpected absence of her master. "You leave her alone. That's not part of the promise."

"It's a bonus," her opposite chuckled with a smirk. "All she has to do is say 'yes'."

"But…" She had to think fast. As usual, Yukiko looked too terrified of the imposing shadow, of the whip in her hands, to protest; she might even give in. "But I… but your Yukiko wants us both!"

One eyebrow raised as she turned to smirk back over her shoulder. "But they are both ours. Every Yukiko belongs to us for all eternity. Doesn't that make you feel so good? Makes them feel good."

"So good," Other-Yukiko echoed, rubbing up and down her upper arms as her eyes closed in bliss at the mere fantasy.

"You lay one finger on her and the deal is off," Chie pushed stubbornly. "I said I would… d-do things to the other Yukiko, but you getting to torture my best friend isn't part of that!"

A little "Chie…" slipped out of Yukiko's lips. Then she swallowed hard and said to the other one, "Y-yes, please don't touch me. I… I don't want…"

"Liar," she insisted.

"I am not lying! I'm scared, I d-don't want to be here! And I don't want you to hurt m-"

She cut off with a yelp as the whip came whistling down, hitting the ground right next to her fingers. She clutched both hands to her chest and shrank in on herself, eyes slammed shut as she tried to blot out everything and everyone.

"She wants it," Other-Chie said with certainty. "Look at how pathetic she is. Not trying to fight me off, can't even move now."

Other-Yukiko laughed and began to paw at Chie's leg, which made her a lot more uncomfortable than she could have imagined. "Poor little bitch thinks she's too good for our collars. Speaking of which…"

Suddenly, the other Chie was standing over her and holding a black spiked dog collar, dangling off the end of her index finger. She began to twirl it around and around. "Happy birthday to us."

"What's… what are you doing with that?" Now it was in real Chie's own hands. The leather was warm and heavy, and the shadow Yukiko's neck was slender, calling out for its companion. "Oh."

"Please?" she breathed needily. "Just… put it on, and we'll both be so happy…"

So she put it on. She couldn't bear to face the real Yukiko, but she managed to slide the leather around her doppelganger's throat and fit it snugly without being too tight. A sigh of gratitude fell from her as soon as it was complete, and she smiled up at Chie with what seemed like genuine affection.

"I thought you had seen how worthless I am," she whispered. "But you want me all to yourself? Really?"

"S-stop it," she muttered as she cleared her throat. "I did it because it's… what you wanted. A trade for Yukiko."

"But I'm-"

"What else do you want me to do? Huh? So we can get it done, and… and I can go home."

Now the false Yukiko looked as if she might cry. Her real life counterpart crept forward to kneel on the second step, getting a better look. Other-Chie clicked her tongue, though her expression remained as smug as ever. "So mean. Give her what she wants, and then make her feel like doggie doo. What a power move; really keep her on your leash this way."

"Cut that OUT!" Chie snapped.

"Whoa, touchy! I can't help it if the truth is too weird for you."

"You don't want to be here with me," Other-Yuki finally breathed, and Chie found herself actually feeling a pinprick of remorse. "Can't you play with me a little more before you go? I… I'm gonna miss you…"

"Oh… fine, fine. Tell me what it is you want me to do."

Her expression full of sappy affection — and the real Yukiko's full of disbelief and outrage — she began to hitch up her skirts. "Well, I did pick out something very special to wear today — so I can catch a stud, like you! But it looks like I got defeated, and these are going to waste, so… I thought-"

"Wait, wait, I'm not- you want me to see your underwear?!"

"Not just see it…"

Cold flooded the pit of her stomach. She turned wide eyes on the real Yukiko, who still seemed dazed but was now frowning a lot deeper than before, then back to the legs that were appearing beneath the hem of the clone's dress.

"No."

"Don't you want to go home?" she purred as her thighs came into view. "Play with me. Make me feel really, really good… and you might get that wish. Pretty please?"

"NO! You're a shadow, a- a demon! Why would I do something for you I've barely ever done to myself — much less anybody else?!"

The shadow Yukiko got a little more insistent, pout more pronounced. "Because I'm your princess! Touch me — make my body come alive for you! Turn me into your willing servant!"

"Come on, stop it!"

"Why? Give me one good reason you shouldn't be ripping off my clothes and having your way with m-"

"Because I wanna do this with the REAL Yukiko, not YOU!"

                                                     To Be Continued…

[thejoeisthejoe]

OLD WIP: (Almost Complete) PRE-SEASON 1 Joe Bullied

Title: Joe Bullied Idea (because he’s tiny and a lil shit and makes people mad)  Author: Robin Gurl Notes: The idea that Joe got bullied because he can’t keep his mouth shut and he’s small which makes him easy to prey on. Which of course includes over protective angry pissed off older brother. Episode: None. This is a preseason 1 idea Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea. 

“Frank, where is your brother? It’s 4pm, I’m beginning to get worried.”

Frank glanced up from doing his home work to notice that his Aunt was right. “Don’t worry, he’s probably just finishing some stuff up.”

She glanced at him before sighing and walking on down the hallway to put up the clean clothes. Frank just tried to go back to his homework. Joe had something to take care of this afternoon and he knew that pride came before the fall.

Much to the despair of the entire family, Joe had decided to try out for football his junior year of high school. For some unknown reason known to man, the youngest Hardy had made it. However after an entire season of injuries Frank had talked Joe into sticking to singing and quit football.

However, Joe being Joe wasn’t going to just quit with everyone there, so he’d decided to do it after their last practice when no one was around.

*~*

Thud!

Joe slammed against the wall crumpling to the ground in a heap. He groaned propping up on his arm, trying to ignore the pain. “Is that all you’ve got Hardy?” Bradley laughed kicking Joe in the stomach…Hard.

Joe yelped and fell to the ground hugging his stomach coughing and sputtering. “Come on get up.” Bradley laughed. Joe hugged his gut in pain a few droops of blood dripping to the ground. “I said get up!” Bradley growled grabbing Joe by the neck of his shirt and throwing him against the wall. “Look at the baby, awww did it hurt?” Bradley, the captain of the football team asked hovering over the smaller frame of Joe Hardy. Joe was cowering against the wall, bent knees trembling, face bruised, blood running down from his mouth. He wiped it away growling. “So football hurts you or is it just that we beat you up after every game? Or has your idiotic brother finally figured it out?”

“His brother can’t figure out a thing.” Another scoffed.

“LEAVE FRANK ALONE!” Joe shouted shaking with anger throwing his fist out. To their surprise the younger boy punched Bradley.

Everyone stood there in silence and then glanced at one another. Bradley staggered backwards then wiped his mouth. The punch had done nothing.  Bradley looked at his finger where he had touched his lip then to Joe is laughing. “He punches like my sister.” He laughed then turned to Joe, “Actually, I think my sister punches a little harder.” He smiled walking towards Joe.

Joe gulped trying not to shake. “Y-you heard me…Leave my brother alone!” he shuddered holding up his fists.

Bradley grinned evily, “Awww. Does the little baby want his mommy. Oh that’s right… You don’t have one.”

Joe’s eyes widened, pupils dilating as he leapt onto Bradley knocking him back. Bradley fell on his back as Joe punched his face as hard has he could growling with rage. The other boys grabbed Joe and dragged him off and threw him to the ground. Bradley leapt up, “Leave him he’s mine!” he growled. The circle parted and Bradley ran over and sat on Joe’s stomach, knees pressing on his shoulders. He starting punching Joe left and right beating his face.

*~*

The door opened slowly and a small figure walked in limping. Frank heard the noise and stepped out of the kitchen, “Dad? Aunt Gertrude? You back already?!” “F..Frank..”

Frank dropped his glass and plate of food on the floor. It shattered and he stepped over it. “Joe? Joe what happened?” His brother only stared silently wavering unsteadily. Dried blood was on his shirt collar and a stream of it was running down his cheek.  

“Frank- I …I quit football-“ Brown eyes rolled into his head and he fainted falling forwards.

*~*

He woke up to the feeling of a cool cloth running over his cheek. It stung and he winced groaning,

“st..stop.”

“Joe, you’re awake!” Frank dropped the cloth and it plunked in the water. “What happened earlier?”

“God, my head hurts…”

“Who did this to you?”

“Bradley…” Joe replied hoarsely.

“What? Why?”

“I have no idea…” Joe winced and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“Just lie still, take it easy. I’ve washed off your lip, it’s cut pretty badly. Where else did he get you?” Frank ran a hand through Joe’s blonde hair pushing it away from his eyes. He saw tears were forming. “Joe,” He asked again, this time in a softer tone. “Where else did he get you?”

Joe ignored Frank and the young blonde tried to stand. He figured if he moved quickly the pain wouldn’t hurt as badly. What he’d forgotten was just how hard Bradley had kicked him the gut. He got to his feet with Frank right beside him looking petrified that his brother was moving. “Joe, I really don’t think you need to be on your feet.”

“I just..just wanna go to bed..” The younger hardy replied panting.

“Then sleep down here, Joe. It’ll be alright, I’ll stay with you.”

Once again, Frank was ignored. Joe pushed past his brother and headed towards the stairs. “Maybe a shower would be good to..”

Frank followed silently knowing something bad was going to happen and he was right. Joe collapsed crying out about his stomach hurting. Tears streamed out as his stomach screamed with pain. He felt the presence of Frank and lifted his head slightly, “Joe, you’ve got to lie down.  You want to go back downstairs?”

Frantically Joe shook his head and reached up grabbing the handrail, “Frank- I …I can’t stay down there…y..your bed…ok..?”

“Ok, Joe. Ok. Just let me help you at least.” Frank knelt down wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “Just take a deep breath and lean on me.”

“F..Frank…i..it hurts..so..so bad…”

Frank could only sigh and help his little brother up the stairs, once off the steep incline Frank relaxed slightly and let Joe put all of his weight on him. He led his brother into his room and helped him lie on the bed, in response Joe just whimpered.

This was what it had been like to an extent the entire year for Joe, after every football game. His brother would come home bloodied and bruises so dark they were green in the middle of the black. It would take Frank most of the night to stop the held in tears and sobs that wracked his brother’s body until morning.

Joe just wasn’t made for a contact sport like foot ball. He was short and tiny for his age as it was. It wasn’t talked about often but because he was born two months premature he was always going to be smaller than everyone else. It was just known.

But that Bradley was going to get it. Frank sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and watched his brother breathe in unsteadily, each breath came out strangled with pain. Thankfully nothing was broken, just sore and bruised.

“Just, relax Joe. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you, I won’t let them. I promise..” This phrase seemed to calm his brother down immensely, “That’s it,” Joe’s facial features relaxed as Frank’s finger ran up and down them. “Shh, I’m here..”

The half broken little sobs were tearing at Frank’s heart and he couldn’t pull away. His heart was pounding and making his hands shake over what Bradley had done to his little brother. Bradley was going to pay.

Then Frank heard the door open, it startled Joe awake slightly. He sat up and twisted to where he was in  Frank’s arms. “Calm down, it’s probably just dad and Aunt Gertrude.”

“D..Don’t let them see me like this…es..especially dad.”

“Joe, he will be able to tell if you’re seriously injured or not.”

The flood gates opened, “I failed him Frank, I can’t let him up here.”

“Failed him? What are you talking about?”

“I’m pathetic. I can’t even play foot ball or defend myself when I’m beat up.”

“Joe, you were attacked it’s not your fault.”

“FRANK? Are you alright up here?” It was their father. “Frank!?”

“No. Frank. DON’T PLEASE.”

Frank just stared down at the shaking bundle of his little brother that was in his arms, “Joe, I have to respond.” Joe only shook his head and Frank sighed into his brother’s hair wrapping his arms around Joe’s waist and just held his upper half in his arms. “Alright, Joe, alright. We’ll just wait then.”

It only took Fenton Hardy around four or so minutes to make it up to Frank’s room. At first he was quite upset that his son didn’t answer him and then he saw the state of his youngest son. He stood there in the entrance to Frank’s room wide eyed.

Frank glanced up at him, Joe had cried himself into a fitful, painful sleep. “Hi dad. Sorry about the mess down stairs…Joe came in…um..hurt and fainted…woke up on the couch and…deliriously walked up here..collapsed on the stairs …then well we’re here.”

“How in the world was Joe hurt? Frank, he looks like he was attacked!” Fenton ran over and took his youngest son’s face in his hands looking it over. “Frank, what happened?”

“Joe quit football today and the captain of the team beat him up for it. Called him names I’m guessing and then he and his little group beat him up.”

Fenton carefully laid Joe’s head back against Frank’s chest then stood up with one hand on Frank’s shoulder to yell down the stairs, “Gertrude, Frank’s unhurt. It’s Joe whose injured. We’re going to need the first aid kit.”

There was an annoyed concerned noise that answered him and then footsteps were heard as their aunt walked up to join them. At sight of one of her nephews in Joe’s condition, she lost it. “My word…” She dropped the first aid kit on the ground and ran over to Frank who was still holding Joe in his arms. “I think this calls for some sort of an explanation, Frank. What happened?”

Fenton Hardy explained what had happened and was trying to decide who to comfort. His sister looked like she was going to faint on the spot and Joe was obviously barely conscious.

“He’s a little embarrassed by all of this so …don’t fret over it to much, ok?” Frank sighed, “Can you watch over him for a bit?”

“Sure, Frank. But where are you going?”

“I left a book at school and while Joe sleeps I’d like to finish my homework.”

Fenton saw right through the lie but knew what Frank was going to do, “Be careful, Frank. We’ll be here.”

*~* “Haha, did you see the way that Hardy kid slithered off?” Bradley laughed loudly to his girl friend as he walked out side, his arm was around her shoulder.

“Brad, you need to be careful, I’ve heard that Frank Hardy isn’t one to mess with.”

“Oh please, Mary. Frank Hardy is even more pathetic than his brother.”

“Oh am I?” Frank asked walking up to the football player. Bradley stood at least a foot and a half taller than Frank.

He grinned down at him laughing. “Come to finish what your brother couldn’t start?”

“You had no reason to hurt him.”

“I did, it’s my warning to the rest of this school, if you’re a pathetic skinny little underweight runt you don’t need to play foot ball. It’s that simple.”

Frank’s temper was rising and it was near boiling. No, he told himself, treat him like a human. There is no need to get physical. He took a deep breath and lowered his fists. “I can get you kicked off the team.”

“For what? Harming your wittle brother? Aww did I ruffle the kitten’s fur? You treat him like a chick, Hardy. Let Joseph take some beatings, it’ll do him some good or maybe he’ll forever be a little momma’s boy. How does your father feel about the loser he bred? At least you have brains. What can Joe do? Sing?”

That did it. Frank’s rationale left. He leapt on top of the muscular football captain knocking him to the ground. Then he began punching him in the face, “How does it feel?!” Frank shouted. “You’re helpless and unable to fight back.”

“Ohhh Frank, get off him!” Mary screamed. “SOMEONE HELP! HE’S KILLING HIM!”

Callie Shaw heard the screams and came running over, surprised to see her boy friend pounding the schools Foot Ball Jock into a pulp. “FRANK! STOP!”

Hearing Callie’s voice pulled Frank out of his daze. He started at his hands, they were covered in blood. Bradley moaned underneath him. “Cal..Callie?”

“Frank? What …why?”

Frank’s glare was hard as he climbed off the mound, “He beat the pulp out of Joe. I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

She tried to approach him, unsure of what to say. He answered for her by shaking her off and walking back inside. She watched him for a second before running after him, finding him in the locker room washing his hands off. “Frank, are you ok?”

“Is Bradley going to be alright?”

“Frank, he’ll live. I’m more worried about you. Why did you do that?”

“Joe is at home in bed with a cut lip, bruised ribs and stomach and God knows what else because Bradley thought it was cute to beat him.” Frank turned around to face her and saw one of the walls behind her had something red on it.

He felt sick to his stomach as he walked over and saw blood splatter on the walls. “T…This was where it happened and no one saw it?”

“Fr..Frank you’re …you’re shaking.”

“Callie, this is where Joe got attacked.” Tears fell down his cheeks and he pulled her close. “I..I couldn’t even protect him…”

“Frank, why don’t you go back home and watch over Joe? I’ll stay and tell the police what happened.”

“Are you sure?” She nodded and reached up and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you, Callie.”

*~*

Back at the house, Fenton Hardy was waiting on Frank. The smell of dinner was on the table as the eldest son walked in the door. He sighed not wanting to talk about what had just happened, he just wanted to get to Joe and stay with him.

“Please tell me you did not do what I think you did.”

Franks gaze hardened as he shrugged off his jacket leaving it in a heap on the floor. “Ask Aunt Gertrude to bring my dinner and a plate for Joe to my room.”

“Frank, what did you do?”

“I did what I had too. He won’t touch Joe ever again.” Frank looked up and saw the terror in his father’s face. “I didn’t kill him. I think I may have broken his nose but that’s nothing compared to what he did to Joe.”

“Frank, I thought I instilled in both of you, violence is never the answer.”

“Dad, I’m not going to sit here and not fight while my brother gets the crap beaten out of him. You can but I’m going to fight. I’m tired of letting my little brother get beat up.”

*~*

Joe woke up slightly when he felt the bed move underneath him.  Any normal time and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as this one did. His stomach was still throbbing from the well placed kick. Then he felt a hand stroke down his cheek and he knew who it was. “Frank?”

“Yeh it’s me. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been beat up by a foot ball player twice my size…” The two brothers were silent for a few minutes before Joe spoke again, “Where did you go earlier? I woke up and dad said you’d left.”

“I had some business to take care of.”

“Yeh like what?”

“Homework . I left a book at school and went to go grab it. I saw Callie and she told you get to better.”

“Frank, you and I both know you didn’t just go to school to get a book.” Joe winced pulling himself into a sitting position.

“Joe, lie back down. I’m fine. It’s you I’m more concerned about.” Frank reached over and placed a  hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Is Bradley ok?”

“Joe, seriously just lie back down.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. What did you do Frank?”

“I got in a row with Bradley. I went back to find him and I did. He insulted you and I lost it- jumped on top of him, we fell to the ground and I just kept punching him.” Frank sighed and sat on the edge of the bed leaning against the headboard.

“Is he?”

“No. He’s alive.”

Joe let out a painful sigh laying his head on Frank’s shoulder. “He’s just going to keep doing it, Frank.”

“You know that’s why I’m taking a year off to stay at home. I’m not leaving unless I know you’re safe and right now you’re not.”

“But, you got in to Yale.”

“They’ll wait. Look at what he did to you because you quit the team, what if you tick him off?” Frank actually sounded frightened and showed it by the gently grip he kept on Joe’s shoulder pulling him closer.

[itsok2bunstable-blog]

This has got to be the worst year of my life. The stress felt like I could be buried in it. Every day the work piled higher and higher, until eventually it felt like Mount Everest was standing on my chest, making it hard to grasp even the smallest breathe of air.  

“This just isn’t going to work out anymore”

I woke from my daydream to stare at the all too familiar face in front of me. The storm gray eyes I fell in love with six months ago, when I first laid eyes on the man in front of me, now all they did was make me feel sick. Like I was about to lose the walking tacos I had for lunch right here right now.

“But why?”

All I wanted was an explanation. Sure, lately we have both been so busy with our intense schedules that seeing each other became difficult. Not to mention the undeniable difference that’s been going on between us since he started working with that new girl who transferred into our school a month ago. I could have seen this coming if I paid attention to the obvious signs. That, however, does not mean that this felt any better. In fact, currently my heart felt like it was slowly being pulled out of my chest, so slow that I could feel every tear from an artery, every movement of the clenched fist around my pumping heart, squeezing it so tightly that I just wished it would stop pumping blood through my weak body.

“It’s not you...”

The over used words of every ending relationship rang through my ears like a siren, never ending and only getting louder. The words Jessie said sounded muffled, like he was talking under water. I caught some things, like how he’s been seeing that new girl and falling for her with every time they met. The world around me seemed to spin all except for the boy in front of me, I realized in this moment that he was not a man, but a boy posing as a man.

“Ariel, please don’t put this on yourself. We just didn’t work out, friends?”

From there I only remember bits and pieces, I remember saying okay. I remember walking to my house and briefly waving at the few people I passed by. I somehow manger to keep the building tears at bay until I reached my small apartment. As soon as I unlocked the door, my knees buckled sending me crashing to the floor, the sobs shook my chest as they came out. This is what they call an ugly cry. Soon enough I was coughing with every breathe. All the promises of forever, all the I love you’s, the talks about our future together, all meant absolutely nothing now. All of it was one gigantic lie. It felt like someone placed a fifty-pound weight on my chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. Almost being the keyword, I could still manage small gasps of air, just enough to keep me alive. All I could feel as pain, insane pain.

           After two hours of nonstop crying I finally settled from an outrageous sob to a soft tear cry, and was able to call my best friend, the only other person that knew about her panic attacks other than the boy she just waisted six months on. Cody rushed over, of course with my most favorite comfort items, including a blue fuzzy blanket from his house, a cheesy chick flick and curly fries from Arby’s with Arby’s sauce. I couldn’t help but close my heavy eyes as he ran his fingers through my thick black hair.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet punk, we haven’t even gotten to the overly dramatic breakup”

I let a small chuckle from my lips, there’s a possibility he’s watched way too many of these movies with me. I pluck a fry from the container before submerging it into the sauce and throwing it into my mouth where I relished in the sweet and spicy combination before saying my first words all night.

“Thank you for coming”

My voice sounded so weak and hoarse that I cringed, barely recognizing my own voice. Even after years of this, I still felt so embarrassed allowing anyone to see me this weak.

“Hey, it’s kind of my job considering I am your best friend”

I offered a weak smile in his direction. Our moms were best friends since high school, they somehow managed to get pregnant at the same time. We were raised together, even though he is two days younger than me, since someone just had to take their sweet ole time to come out. We were raised together, family vacations, family dinners, tons of sleepovers, any huge event basically was spent together. Through the years we developed a close knit of friends, his football friends and my lacrosse friends meshed well and once we got to high school it wasn’t just us, parties, hanging out, we were typically always in group of six with our closest friends. Still, we always managed to make time for just us, even if it was just helping my mom make dinner before Friday Family Night. However, when we were 15 my world came crashing around me. My loving mother, who had been fighting leukemia for three years suddenly took a turn for the worst and lost her long battle. At her funeral I had my first ever panic attack, people who I never met were approaching me and telling me how much I looked like her, how sorry they were, that at least I got 1 years to be her daughter and remember the lessons she taught me. It all became too much to handle and before I knew what was happening, I was shaking, feeling ice cold, my world was spinning, and it became so difficult to breathe. Cody, who hadn’t left my side all day immediately picked up on his and carried me outside, where I cried on is shoulder for a solid 45 minutes while he held me and didn’t say a single thing, he just let me cry it out. That was the first of many, very quickly out tradition became Arby’s fries and a movie, sometimes three however many it took to make me feel better.

“Where’s your mind at chicken?”

The nickname I haven’t been able to shake since we were 13 when I refused to jump off a cliff into the local river makes me roll my eyes.

“Well unlike you I’m watching the movie.”

Small white lies to keep him from knowing how often I think of my mom usually work and keep me from having to explain these things, in truth though he knows without asking, it’s like this unspoken truth between us because I know he thinks of her as well. Before I can even register what is happening a pillow is hitting my face. As a child I always ought a pillow fight would be soft and not hurt, because pillows are soft and tender and there’s no way they could hurt. Man was I false, my face stung from the zipper of the cushion hitting my cheek and I’m sure my face insanely turned red after the impact. My moth dropped, forming an O as I mincingly shot the death glare at Cody. I grabbed the closest pillow too me and swung it with all my might in his direction. His eyes widened and he flinched before I even made contact, he held out his hands in the hopes to deflect the object now flying at him. The pillow made contact in the most epic pillow swing ever seen on this planet. As I wound up for hit number two, because let’s face it who ends a pillow fight at just when hit he yelped,

“Mercy! Mercy!”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his big baby eyes, starring up at me begging me to end this pillow torture.

“I hit harder than you youngin”

He narrowed his baby blue eyes at me and wined.

“Only by two days”

This got me to giggle because he sounded exactly like he did when we were eight, that same little voice that cried to mom anytime we got into a fight or he scraped a knee riding his bike.

“Oh, hush up. Look it’s the breakup”

We watched as Savanna broke up with John through a letter after not talking to him in months, we watched as he threw all the letters into a fire pit and his best friend approached him. That’s when we learn that she was engaged to another man and planning on getting married to him.

“Well that was shitty.”

I most definitely agreed but at the same time he chose to reenlist after 9/11 without even really discussing the option with her. I could only imagine how it felt knowing he might never come home, especially after 9/11.

“I mean she definitely could have done it better, but he did reenlist”

As we continued to argue about the Nicolas Sparks movie, I couldn’t help but think about Jessie. Fr the past few weeks anytime I tried to reach out he was always too busy to hang out yet was able to make time for this new girl.

“He was probably with her every time.”

My own voice made me jump as I realize I said this personal inside thought out loud, meaning Cody most definitely heard it. Since Cody got here while I was an absolute mess I wasn’t able to tell him at happened. Once I got calmed down enough, he knows not to ask because nine times out of ten it sets another attack off just thinking about the trigger.

“What?”

I turned so my body was facing him and as the tears slowly fell down my cheeks, leaving wet trails behind their path, I told him the story. With Cody I don’t typically hold anything back, he’s always been my safe space, my go to for rants and I know anything I do say is between me and him.

“I’m going to kill him”

Was his only response after I finished, I gave him a soft smile after wiping the last of my tears away.

“As sweet as the offer is, we both know he would probably pummel you.”

His hard expression turns soft before he sighs and rubs his face with his hand.

“Your right on that, but he deserves something after the pain es caused you. I am not okay with that; you’ve been through enough already. Stuff he knows about, yet he continued to do this.”

Instead of responding to this, I crawl into his lap and burry my face into the nape of his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. The best thing about Cody, is he’s been in my life for so long now that this doesn’t feel awkward, the hugs don’t have meaning behind them other then offering a safe place for me in my weak moments. We stayed in this position, with me silently crying his shoulder until the movie ended. When the credit scene rolled, I jumped up from his lap, wiped my tears, and told him I had an idea.

Walking into Jessie and the psychology blonde having sex is not exactly what I was expecting when we got to Jessie’s house. When Cody pulled up and I noticed that the door was wide open, somehow, I didn’t see the beetle parked next to Jessie’s 2004 light blue Mustang. I walked through the kitchen, not hearing a single sound until I reached the living room. Where the blonde was on her knees, with Jessie’s back facing me. My mouth dropped as I witnessed him pull her hair something, he had done to me a million times. Cody touched my arm making me jump in place before awkwardly clearing his throat. The girl screamed and grabbed a t shirt in attempt to cover herself. Jessie however turned around completely unfazed and turned around with a cocky smile.

“Oh hey, you should have called”

My eyes were still focused on the girl desperately trying to cover herself, as if I didn’t just get a full show of everything, she has to offer a few minutes ago.

“I tried. Three times”

My voice comes out so steady and clean it shocks even me.

“Oh sorry, I’ve been a bit occupied”

Jessie scratched the back of is head, trying to seem guilty but enjoying this moment all too much.

“Put some pants on jackass.”

Cody’s voice wakes me from my zone, and I can feel his thumb moving up and down on the small of my back a slight comfort in this crazy moment. Him being here makes all this a bit easier to handle, because I know if it was just me, I would have lost my stuff the minute I walked into this room. I watch as Jessie grabs his shorts from the ground and slides them on effortlessly, as if his is ex-girlfriend of not even a day walking in on him having sex with another girl happens often.

“Come get our shit”

Without another word, I pivot on my heel and walk back through the kitchen and out to Cody’s Nissan Altima. I popped the trunk and start throwing Jessie’s things onto the street. Before I reach the fourth box Cody came from behind me and grabbed my hands. Jessie was behind me desperately trying to gather the things that have fallen out from the boxes.

“Let me do it.”

I sheepishly manage to nod my head and step back as Cody unloads the last two boxes. As this all unfolded Infront of me my mind went completely blank. My head tilted back, and I saw the stars of the night sky. Suddenly the toll that today has taken on me takes full effect and the exhaustion takes over. He didn’t even wait a day; we broke up a total of six hours ago and she was already over here. He same girl he broke up with me for.

“Come on.”

Cody’s touch startles me from my thoughts, and when I look back down from the sky, I realize it’s just me and him alone in the empty street. Cody’s soft hand guides me to the passenger side of the car, where he opens the door and allows me to slide in. My whole body feels numb, every limb of my body feels heavy. My head rolls back onto the seat cushion as Cody starts the car. I can feel my eyelids getting heavier with every blink I take and before I know it, they become too heavy to even open. The last thought that crosses my mind before sleep finally takes over is,

He’s been sleeping with her this whole time.

[petertingle-yipyip]

Hybrids Pt. 2 - Tyler Lockwood/Klaus Mikaelson

//Requested: OMG! i loved 'hybrids' so much and i really want part two, i loved it, you are da best😎 // - // @cinthias-corner : May I request a part 2?//

//Part One//

//Pairings: Klaroline, Stelena mention, Tyler x Reader. Warnings: Language and soft Tyler :) Tag List : @akshi8278 @simonsaysyasss //

More or less than a month had passed since you had confessed your love for Tyler. Your heart had dropped when he said exactly what you were afraid of, what he knew you were afraid of.. That everything would change.

You figured he didn’t say it on purpose to hurt you or anything. But your mind and your heart didn’t want to give him the chance. You began avoiding Tyler after that. It was obvious and you knew it. He had your whole heart in his hands and that was too much for you to handle. You felt all too vulnerable around him. Which was why you weren’t ready to face him. You couldn’t face either of them, really.

Things with Klaus weren’t the easiest either. Now that you were avoiding Tyler, Klaus saw it as his best opportunity to swoop in and mend your broken heart. It was more for your benefit than his, but it was still hard considering you weren't hesitant to shut him down. But the thing was... your heart wasn’t exactly broken. Not yet at least, thanks to your newfound fear of facing Tyler.

The decade dance. It was the 20's and Klaus intended to be there, with you and Tyler in tow. As hesitant as you were, you knew you could escape and be with the girls for most of the night. Klaus had laid out clothes for the both of you, insisting that you would have no idea how to appropriately match the timeframe.

As soon as the three of you entered the school, you slipped into the crowd and found your friends. They instantly picked up on your emotions and carefully asked you questions in regards to Tyler.

"And he laughed, believe it or not." You said in annoyance. It was like a weight was lifted, finally being able to talk about what had been nagging in the forefront of your mind. "It wasn't a bust a gut laugh, more of a chuckle, but still."

"He laughed!?" Caroline exclaimed in shock. "What an ass.. God, why did I ever date him?" She laughed.

"You're telling me.." You agreed, ignoring the pain in your chest when she mentioned their past. It didn't necessarily bother you that she had dated Tyler in that few months between Tyler becoming a hybrid and you becoming a hybrid. They were both happy, and that's all you could ask for, but it stung a little that she had been with him, knowing your feelings for him.

"Obviously, I didn't mean to say it. I'd been hiding that from him forever and it just kind of came out. I was just trying to take a cheap shot at Klaus." You continued.

"Did Tyler actually say anything about it or was the laugh it?" Elena asked, probably loving being involved in relationship drama other than her own.

"He said that it changes everything." You winced for effect.

"Everything?" They asked in unison.

"Everything." You confirmed.

"Excuse me, ladies." You heard Klaus say from over your shoulder. You turned and sighed internally. So much for escaping with the girls. "Caroline, would you like to dance?"

She tried to hide her smile but you all saw it. She nodded slightly, faking a sigh of annoyance, and stepped around the table to take Klaus' outstretched hand.

"And Y/N.." Klaus said before whisking Caroline away. "Keep him out of trouble, would you?"

Once they walked away, Tyler walked up to you. With a deep sigh, you greeted him with a tight smile. Glancing to the side, you saw Elena and Bonnie slip away, motioning for you to talk to him.

"Hey, Y/N." He said softly, standing in the now open spot next to you.

"Hey, Ty." You replied with an awkward nod.

"I guess what you said a while back really knocked Klaus down a peg." He commented.

"What are you talking about?" You questioned.

"That." He pointed to Klaus and Caroline dancing. "He's backed off you completely."

"Oh that!" You exclaimed in realization. "Yeah, but I think it was more to annoy us than any real substance. But let's admit it. I'm amazing." You teased, trying to be normal around him after a month of distance. "Plus Caroline would never admit it but she does like him. A lot, actually." You chuckled.

"You're alright." He teased in return, nudging you slightly. "Besides, she's probably the only woman on earth that does." He joked.

"Honestly!" You laughed. "His own sister can barely stand him!"

He laughed with you and everything felt like it did a month ago. No life changing confessions. Neither of us avoiding the other. It felt the way it should being with him, it was light and normal. It was comfortable.. It was everything you had been missing.

"This was a whole set up, wasn't it?" You asked, still amused at the jokes you made at Klaus' expense. "Luring the girls away so I would have to talk to you? And you even managed to get Klaus in on it."

"Well, how else was I supposed to talk to you?" He challenged with a smile. "It was actually his idea since you've been avoiding me for a month."

"Yikes... That obvious, huh?" You laughed a little, knowing it was.

"Just a little, yeah." He replied.

"Huh." You muttered in realization. "Y'know, I didn't think everything would change, after that day.. But it did. And maybe it only changed because I made it change." You said out loud. "I forced exactly what I didn't want."

"No, Y/N. It wasn't fair for me to say that, especially since you had told me that's what you were afraid of." Tyler argued gently.

"Oh, I said that out loud." You nodded a little. "No, in all seriousness Lockwood, I freaked out. I wasn't ready to tell you for multiple reasons and I-"

"Wait, what reasons?" He interjected.

"What?" You asked, not registering what he had said.

He chuckled before responding. "Why didn't you want to tell me?"

"Oh.. Well, first off, you're you. I mean, you're Tyler Lockwood, the football star. The popular kid. I've known you since we were kids, even if you didn’t know me. And then high school came and somehow you and I became really good friends. Things were great before and I let my stupid feelings get in the way.” You confessed. "And then everything with Caroline. You seemed genuinely happy with her and I wasn't going to mess that up for you. No matter how that hurt..."

“Y/N/N... Things weren’t great. I was hiding something from you too.” He said carefully. "And sure, I liked being with Caroline but it wasn't the same as when I'm with you."

“Oh no.” You groaned. “Please don’t tell me you have a kid roaming around somewhere..” You tried to joke. It drew a small laugh from him which made things a little easier.

“When we were kids, you thought I didn’t know you... But I did. I noticed everything about you before I even knew I was noticing it, hell before I started noticing girls at all. The way you wore pigtails every Friday, even through high school. You had something blue everyday, whether it be your jewelry, your clothes, or even your hair ties. You had this tendency to hum songs while you were coloring and then as you got older as you were writing.” He gushed.

You gently placed your hand on his shoulder as you realized he was getting a bit flustered. A gentle pink flush had settled on his face and neck. His complexion had nearly matched his tie. He sighed heavily, visibly giving in to your touch. Could it be that he was confessing something like what you had told him a month ago? Is it possible that Tyler Lockwood, the boy that brought you to the clouds and through hell, was harboring feelings for you?

“Ty...” You smiled softly. You couldn’t help but smile. Growing up, you had always been in your own world. Of course, the girls were there but there were things that were just part of you. Like the humming, the blue, the pigtails. Those were all minuscule things that you had hardly even noticed yourself doing. But all this time, Tyler had noticed. “I still wear something blue..” You commented, flashing the soft blue bracelet you added before leaving earlier that night.

“I know.” He said with a small smile. “Look all I’m trying to say is that things changed after last month. There’s no denying or arguing. But they changed in a way they shouldn’t have.”

“How should they have changed then?” You asked with a small, confused laugh as you took your hand away, letting it join the other that rested on the table. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. At first, it seemed like your relationship with Tyler could be salvaged and rebuilt into something new but now, now it seemed like it was nothing but rubble. You two would be downgraded to being coworkers for Klaus. Simple head nods of acknowledgment when passing. “Sorry, I’m just really lost here, Tyler. You mean a lot to me, you know that. And I can't lose you. Not with everything still being so new.”

He stared at you for a second, processing your words. You saw the recognition light up his eyes as his eyebrows raised and he began to shake his head. "Oh no no no. Not like that. Not like that at all. Y/N, I- I- I like you, a lot actually. And I didn't want to say anything before because Klaus was always around."

You realized he was about to go on another rant. One thing that most people didn't see in Tyler, was his lack of eloquence in his speech. When he had a lot to say or had something important to say, sometimes he got tripped up or he would talk too much. He would say more than he needed to, which would lead to him saying the wrong thing.

In an effort to silence him, you closed the distance between you two, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He tensed for a moment before melting into your embrace. His arms came around you just as tight. You nuzzled your face against his chest slightly and you felt him rest his head on top yours.

"You were about to ramble." You mumbled your explanation against him. His chest shook with laughter, drawing a wide smile that he couldn't seep

to come from you. You realized how warm a hug from Tyler was. It felt safe, like you weren't tied up in supernatural nonsense. Like you weren't fighting for a family you didn't know. Like you hadn't lost everything in a war you didn't want. It felt like you were just a kid in love.

"Y/N." He said quietly, as if your name was only his to say.

"Yeah, Tyler?" You replied, stepping back slightly to meet his eyes. His eyes were soft as they met yours, full of admiration and love.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked with a sly smirk.

You realized a slow song had begun. You glanced around, seeing Elena with Stefan and Caroline still with Klaus. You knew if you stepped onto that dance floor with Tyler, the questions would never stop. But really, who cared?

You took one of Tyler's hands in yours and pulled him to the dance floor. You linked your fingers together and he gently pulled you close. His hand was on the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him.

"So where do we go from here?" You asked quietly as you two gently swayed to the music.

"Wherever you want." He replied with a small shrug. "I love you, Y/N. And I can wait. This probably seems really sudden so if you need some time to decide if this is really what you want, I can wait. "

You smiled widely, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "I love you too, Tyler. I have for a while, obviously, which means I've been waiting for just as long. I don't need time. I know what I want and I want you."

"So you're my girl then?" He questioned with a proud smile.

"It's about damn time, Lockwood." You teased, completely over the moon and head over heels for the boy in front of you.

The next day, the girls came over while you and Tyler were on the couch watching a random movie. Your head was on his chest while his arm was around your waist. You were absent-mindedly toying with the fingers of his other hand, tracing his name with your index finger against his palm. They burst through the doors, shouting your name and demanding an explanation, especially when they saw how you two were laying on the couch. So together, you and Tyler gave them the basic explanation.

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 5

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected. Katarina/Swain 

The mood around me is celebratory, Noxus has new friends in the north. The Warmother Ashe has seen the benefits of our offered alliance. In time we’ll help to strengthen the Avarosans and then we’ll absorb them into the Empire. Everything had fallen quite nicely into place, well except for a small objective I’d had my sights on. Pity, that girl is rather fetching. Perhaps it’s for the best though since I find myself in a rather black mood.

Katarina still hasn’t returned from the assignment I’d sent her on. I expected her back some time ago and left word with the guards to inform as soon as she returned. That’s all I need is for that girl to get herself caught spying on our new allies and ruin everything that’s been done here.

I’d had to play host to the raucous feast to commemorate this momentous occasion, our guests more than happy to indulge in the stores we’d brought with from the capital. I’d watched the feasting and drinking as night unfurled around us, feigning interest in several conversations, my patience growing ever thinner.

I see one of the guards from the rear gate approaching. I wave him over and he leans in. “She’s returned, Sir. I’ve sent her to your room as requested.”

About time. “Very well.” He nods and fades into the background. I should make her wait for me. She’d taken an inordinate amount of time out there, it would only be fair. But I’ve grown tired of the drunken debauchery around me and would prefer some solitude.

I rise a few heads turn towards me, I put my hand up. “I need to attend to a small matter.” Most are too far into their drink to even notice. Behind me someone starts singing, my exit was well timed at least. As I make my way upstairs I plan to let her know just how irritated I am with her.

“Katarina you’d better an explanation for this.” I snarl as I fling the door open and storm in. I stop short when I see her. She’s at the wash basin, cleaning a small wound on her throat. My irritation melts away, perhaps I was a bit hasty with it anyway.

She turns to fix a significant glare in my direction, behind it though she looks tired and frustrated. “Oh please forgive me for my late return from the nonsense you sent me out to do.” The sarcasm drips drips from her words. She goes back to dabbing at the wound.

I sigh and make my way over to her. “It had to be you, I trust you more than anyone else here.” It’s the truth, I hadn’t thought about how she’d perceive things though, the amount of offense she’d take. I reach out and tuck my fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards to get a look at her neck.

I reach towards the rag in her hand but she yanks it back from my grasp. “Don’t.” She hisses through her teeth. She is definitely more than irritated with me.

“Sh, let me take care of it.” I pry the rag from her and finish cleaning the wound before letting go of her. It’s not terribly deep, dark bruising around it making it look worse than it is. “There, it’s not bad, but watch it for infection.”

“I know that.” She snaps at me. I ignore it and wrap my arms around her, feeling the cold lingering on her. I want to diffuse her anger but she pulls away from me. “Do you want to hear what you sent me out there for or not?”

I don’t though, all I want right now is her in my arms, her lips on mine, the feel of her body pressed against mine. “It can wait, why don’t you let me get you warmed up first.” I reach out again, this time she doesn’t pull away but closes her eyes and leans against me. The mood shift is almost tangible, I kiss the top of head and she sighs softly. My hands move to the heavy coat she’s wearing, undoing it and casting it aside. I pull her shirt over her head and run my hands down her back. “My poor little frozen Kitten.”

“Why are you so irritating?” She reaches up and pushes my coat off my shoulders, her voice now practically a purr.

“You seem to find me charming enough.” Her hands tangle in my shirt, pulling it off, before wrapping around my neck. She presses her lips to mine, the soft curve of her breasts pushing against my chest. I scoop her legs out from under her and carry her to the bed.

“I hate it when you do that.” She kicks off her boots.

“You enjoy it.” I finish undressing and push her down onto her back. I listen to her breath accelerate while I remove her pants. I think I’ll make her pay a little bit for her attitude earlier.

I push her legs apart and lean down between her thighs. I run my tongue over her, just barely tasting her. She hisses and her hands grip the blankets. I tease her outside, feeling how wet she’s getting. I barely penetrate her with the tip of my tongue. “Damn.” She whispers.

I keep lightly licking her, listening to her moans, getting her close but careful not to take her all the way. She tastes so incredibly sweet. Finally I run my tongue over her clit before taking it between my teeth and sucking lightly. “Fuck.” She shouts just as I pull away leaving her again at the edge.

I move up and kiss her deeply, driving my tongue into her mouth, I want her to taste herself on me. I keep my cock just outside her, letting her feel what she does to me. She whimpers and bucks her hips a bit. I pull out of the kiss but don’t give her what she wants.

She sits up on her elbows, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed. “What are you waiting for?”

“I think because of your reticence earlier you’re going to have to ask me very nicely for what you want, Kitten.” I can tell she contemplates killing me for a moment.

“You can’t be serious.” I reach out and grasp one of her hardened nipples and give it a light pinch.

“I am. And apologize for your attitude earlier.” She grits her teeth but a small moan escapes her. I pinch a little harder, prodding her on.

“I’m sorry for being ill tempered.”

“And…”

“And please fuck me…Sir.” The little addition of Sir makes me fight to not just bury myself in her. And she knows it. But I’m not done with her.

“I think I’d prefer you got on your hands and knees to show me how sorry you are.”

She gives me a wicked smile, throwing herself into this little game. She does as I ask. “Does my apology please you? ” Her voice soft and alluring.

I don’t answer but drive myself inside her, feeling her tight warmth surround me, listening to her moan as I take her. It’s not long before she’s near screaming with every thrust before finally calling my name as she tightens around me. I follow soon after, gripping her hips tightly, burying myself as deep as possible as I spend myself inside her.

I fall back onto the bed, pulling her to me. Suddenly I can’t stand the thought of her leaving and going off to her own bed. She doesn’t fight it, her back against my chest, her breathing slowing. She does look tired, perhaps I should’ve just let her rest.

“So you were saying about the encampment of our new friends.” She makes an irritated noise and I kiss her shoulder lightly.

“Definitely not enough of them to withstand an invasion. If they could be focused on without contending with every other tribe. But it’s a start for a decent foothold up here.” She stretches a bit, I know she’s about to try to leave.

I could ask her to stay again, she likely wouldn’t refuse. She moves to get out of my arms but I don’t let go. I kiss the back of her neck. “Don’t leave.”

“No.” She sits up, I’m too stung by her rejection to resist. “You’re an ass in the morning when I stay.”

“I promise it won’t happen this time. I enjoy having you here.” I reach and put my hand over hers, trying to convince her.

There’s ice in her voice. “We have a rule, remember. You said before we left there shouldn’t be me anymore indiscretions. And look what happened this morning.” She snatches her hand out from under mine.

“Well then I’m changing the rules.” She narrows her eyes at me.

“No, you don’t get to keep changing the terms. And I still wouldn’t trust you to not be insufferable.” She’s actually raising her voice at this point. Are we having an argument?

She gets up to start leaving again. “They are my terms and I’ll change them as I please. If you don’t like it you can move out of my house when we return. Figure out your life without my terms.”

I don’t know why I say it, other than desperation to win this stupid arguement. I don’t mean it all and I regret it as soon as it’s said. An unpleasant tightness suddenly constricting my chest.

“Fine, fuck you.” She huffs and gets under the covers, back to me, as far across the bed as she can get.

“Fine” I spit back, getting up to extinguish the candles. I join her under the covers facing away from her. Minutes pass that seem to stretch into hours. I know I went too far and laying here in angry silence makes me worry she’ll act on what I said. I don’t know why it matters, just that it does. It’s a strange feeling of vulnerability that I’m neither used to nor care for. Finally I give in. “Kat?”

“What.” That one word is as sharp as any of her daggers.

“I didn’t mean that.” She doesn’t respond. I turn over to face her. “Really, I’m sorry.” I reach out to touch her shoulder. I just want her to know that I’m sincere, to forgive me.

But as my hand brushes her skin, the sound of ravens cawing fills the room. My vision begins to blur as a red eyed spectral bird lands between us. Pain erupts behind my left eye as the vision takes me.

As it usually is, I see as through a mist: a cage of stone, an ancient magic called forth. A gathering of followers surround a hooded man. He turns a blade on one of them, his form reflects Du Couteau’s training. Ah, the foundling Talon. I hear a familiar female voice in the distance. “We must do what is best for Noxus.”

And then I awaken. Kat is sitting next to me, gently running her hand down my back. Why? I know it’s kindness I didn’t earn tonight.

“Are they always like that?” She’s never been present during a vision before, not many have.

“Not always.” I roll away from her. I don’t want her to be kind to me right now. “How long was I out?”

“Half an hour, maybe.” She settles back down and pulls the covers up around us. Her arm wraps around my waist, her body warm against my back. I feel myself relaxing, the pain in my head fading.

“I’m sorry about before, you can leave if you want.”

She exhales loudly. “Don’t worry about it.” I feel her kiss between my shoulder blades.

It’s not quite forgiveness but at least I know she’s not going to leave. There’s clearly work to be done when we return home.

[imagine-loki]

Irked

Title: Irked

Author: lokilover9 Chapter: #23 Rating:Teen

Shandi heard the sliding glass door, saw Loki strut towards the pools diving board and laughed when zoning in on his arse. “Where did you get those, the local sex shop?” ‘What the fuck? There goes my rogue tongue again today.’

Loki stopped and cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon? First we have the ‘doubt of daddy’s identity’ statement in public, now you freely reveal knowledge of a local sex shop. One ‘I’ your spouse, was unaware existed until this moment. Just exactly what kind of woman did I marry, Elizabeth?”

Shandi smirked. “One with secrets.”

“Is that so?” ‘Minx. What are you hiding?’ “Perhaps one day, you’ll share a few.” He dove in and resurfaced nearby. “Until then, I’ve other news.”

Tony initially brushed it off when Shamus’s sons, common law wife’s, surname rang an odd bell. Until bolting from sleep at four am, yelling at Jarvis to call Phil. Several years prior, Obadiah had spoken of reconnecting with an older half brother, from his mother. The siblings eventually had a falling out, but genius Stark remembered the man’s surname. Shamus’s sons wife was that half brothers daughter, confirming a definite link between Shamus and Obadiah. S.H.I.E.L.D. was already watching the couple like hawks, hoping for further leads.

“He must be ecstatic.” Said Shandi. “Are agents being sent here, too?”

“Only for the three day fair. Considering the towns size, Tony believes others spotted tailing any of the O'Donnell’s, risky. Especially with Tanya lurking about. She could inadvertently place Scott on our heels.”

“Great, now she’s a fly in the ointment.”

“Tonys more concerned about your safety than her interference.” Loki didn’t reveal Starks upset when learning of Tanya watching them, but reassured him of keeping Shandi safe.

“He’s become like a protective big brother to me. Like Nat has a sister.”

“Very nice.” ‘How amusing Pet, considering. And educational.’ Secretly aware of Nats true feelings, Shandis comment reinforced their one sidedness, this being her wish for Loki to perceive.

Upon returning from making herself another drink, Loki was doing an underwater lap towards the shallow end. Shandi jumped in merely feet ahead, making him resurface early, triumphantly smiled and gestured towards her stomach. “Tell me the real reason you didn’t previously reveal this option?”

“Alright.” He cooly replied. “However, first things first. Interrupt my laps, will you?” She squealed when he scooped her into his arms and failed an attempt escape. “I think not. Time for a good old fashioned splash and dunk!” Once out, he darted for the deep end and resurfaced again with her clinging to his shoulders.

“You Brat!”

“I wear the title, proudly.”

“Explanation?” She asked, wiping her eyes.

“Right. It’s no secret Tony would’ve preferred anyone but me, to portray Clifford. Assuming being forced to caused greater concern, I didn’t challenge his stipulations. Including your daytime swimming restriction.” Despite the short time Shandi remained in Loki’s arms, a problem began arising. ‘Disobedient cock alert. Think fast.’ He walked to the side and released her.

“Were you concerned I’d tell Tony?” She asked.

“Somewhat. I do understand everyone’s mistrust of me more than they’re aware. In particular, yours.” Loki rose from the water, returned with her drink and sat on the pools edge. “Had I suggested the illusion, you both may have further doubted my intentions for our mission. That must sound absurd, considering my most recent behavior.”

“It’s all good, you apologized.”

“Not for my actions prior to our mission. Do you recall how our conversation ended at the park the other day?”

Butterflies erupted in her stomach. “Yes.”

“When learning you wished to ask if Thor and I believed Midgardians inferior, it struck me how profound the question must be for you.”

“It is. Humans have been questioning life’s existence on other planets for millenniums. Suddenly you guys appear with abilities we’ve only dreamt of possessing and knowledge we’ve barely scratched the surface of. Can you blame us for having questions?”

“Not in the least, yet learning you purposely avoided me, struck harder. However, it’s no wonder as I’ve behaved like an ass since we met.”

‘Wut?’ “On many occasions, you have. I’m curious to know why Loki?”

“I’ve no reason or excuse and you did nothing to provoke or deserve it. The worst part is I caused discomfort in the very place one seeks it most. Where you live. For everything Shandi, I sincerely apologize and hope you may eventually see me in a different light.”

‘Holy shit, Nat was right.’ “That’s very decent of you to admit, Loki. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It was long overdue, as is lunch. Care to dine on the deck? I can barbeque.” Before she replied, he abruptly stiffened with an ear to the fence, took her drink and offered his hands. “Come, quickly! Someone’s driving up the hill.” In seconds, they were inside, door locked and blinds closed. “Remain upstairs until I say otherwise.” He waited until she was out of sight, glanced out the front window and opened the door. “Next time, warn us people?”

Nat whacked him in the gut, stepping in. “Why Mr. Bradshaw, were you up to no good?”

Clint followed. “We did, Cactus.”

Shandi heard their voices and came down. “He’s right, I’ve a text. Both our phones were inside.”

“What’s with the oversized bathing suit?” Asked Nat.

Loki and Shandi eyed each other. “Long story, Kroshka. Let’s have some drinks and I’ll explain.”

“It’s nice you’ve a pool. That storm turned the Hudson muddy and we’re bored as fuck in that little cottage.”

“That’s the only reason you came?” Asked Shandi. “I say we toss them out, Clifford.”

Nat slapped her hard on the ass. “As if.”

“Bitch! That kinda stung.”

“Is it my fault your butts wet? Be grateful I forgot the paddle.” The guys quietly observed as Nat studied her for a moment. “You’ve been drinking coco.”

“Have not.”

“Liar.” Said Loki.

Shandi sighed. “Does your spouse often talk too much Mrs. Shriner?”

Clint had begun eyeing Loki’s trunks. “All you need are some aviator sunglasses, a thick cigar and you’d resemble a cheap porn star.”

Nat started for the kitchen. “Ya think, Mrs. Bradshaw?”

“Really though dude, what’s with the lips? You order those trunks from an online sex shop, for some reason?”

“No, but apparently there’s one in town which no doubt, my wife learned of through yours Gus.”

“Way to go, Ella. What did you break or run out of this time?”

“Not me, baby cakes. ‘We?’”

Clint grinned. “Oh yeah, that was fun.”

“What? And you laughed at me for…” Shandi froze, eyes widened at Nat from almost referencing her broken vibrators.

Loki gestured she continue. “Please wife, don’t leave us hanging.”

“Forrr…laughing because I’d never been to one.”

“You lied about going to Manhattan’s largest sex shop alone?” Asked Clint.

“No, she went too.” Nat smiled when Shandi gave her the stink eye. “Sorry, beautiful, I had to tell. He was out of town and went all pouty about it on skype.”

“I wasn’t pouty.” Said Clint.

Nat ignored him. “Don’t worry, I never mentioned your purchases.”

“What?! Because there weren’t any, remember? I only went to accompany you!”

A sly smile curled on Nats lips. “Okay true, but you did inspect a few things.”

“Imagine that.” Said Loki. “Two of earth’s finest super heroes, avidly exploring their perversions. Excellent blackmail material. Don’t you think Mr. Shriner?”

“Yeah, but I’d have to catch them first, Bradshaw.”

Shandi smirked, reaching for some glasses. “Ice for your drinks, people?”

“Sure darlin,’ you know it.”

Loki observed the rooms hubbub in silence. ‘A goal you shall never see to fruition, Clint. They were magnificent to behold, yet I send my condolences in silence. To love a woman and possess only a fragment of her heart is a cruelty none should endure.’ His hands rubbed together. “Right. Now that refreshments are settled, burgers anyone?”

Nat and surprisingly Clint were fine with Loki’s minor illusion and agreed Stark should remain oblivious. How Clint may respond to Loki and Shandis evolving affections was a conversation the ladies still needed to have. Nat learned just how much, when something peaked his curiosity. They’d come prepared, granted a welcome to stay overnight and brought their bag upstairs. So he’d behave, Nat had him change in the spare bedroom and her in Shandis. He waited at the hall window with a clear view of Loki tending the BBQ, as Shandi approached with some buns. She turned to leave, hesitated, then stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. Clint couldn’t hear her words, but the way they looked at each other and the smile on Loki’s face when she walked away, left him overly curious.

“You coming baby cakes, or admiring the forest?”

“Do you think he’s trying to seduce her?”

“What?”

“Shandi just kissed him.”

Nat played dumb. “Are you fucking kidding me? Like really kissed?”

“On the cheek, but still.”

“Interesting. They do seem to be getting along better which no doubt, makes living together easier.”

“He was warned the day we arrived, Nat.”

She stopped on the second step. “I know and Shandis not naive. I think you’re making something out of nothing. There’s a clean and heated pool outside with our names on it. Are you coming or not?”

Clint followed. “If he touches her, Tony will fucking kill him.”

After the kiss, Shandi had taken a moment to straighten and quickly tidy the cushions of two extra lounge chairs. She was heading back inside, a dustpan brush tucked beneath her arm, empty glass in hand and overheard Clints words when reaching the screen door. The glass smashed to the pavement as Nat appeared in view and to hide her discomfort, Shandi hastily squatted to pick up the pieces. Loki asked if she were alright as Nat and Clint went to her aid.

“Geez guys, I haven’t broken a limb, I…uh oh.” Blood rapidly dripped onto the ground from her left hand and Clint grabbed a dish towel as Nat helped her up. “Where’s your Bandaids, woman?”

“In my bathroom.”

“Go get cleaned up.” Said Clint. “I’ll deal with this.”

Nat closed the bedroom door. “We need to talk.”

Shandi ran cold water over the wound. “I heard Clints threat.”

“Oh beautiful. Is that why you dropped the glass?”

“Yeah.”

“He witnessed your kiss through the window.” Shandi revealed why it occurred and Nat smiled. “I told you Loki’s trying to make amends. I’ll tell Clint ASAP, but stay acting professional in his presence. Obviously he won’t accept anything that happens between you two.”

“Dammit Nat. If I’d have switched places with you, this never would’ve happened.”

“True, things could be worse.”

“How?”

“You’d keep liking Loki, but be even bitchier in his presence, unable to comprehend why the hell he didn’t like you.”

Shandi chuckled. “I suppose.”

“Stay put.”

“Where are you going?”

“To prevent Cactus being questioned, before I get to Cupid. Keep running water on that.”

“Hey, can you bring me another coco?” No response. “Guess not.”

With Clint in the main floor bathroom, Nat had a chance to approach Loki outside. “Listen I’ll explain why later, but keep things with Shandi more professional around him.”

His brow arched. “Alright.”

“And how’s your magic on hindering a bleed? Baby cakes and I need a few minutes alone.”

Loki found Shandi with her hand still beneath the tap. “Nat said you wanted another drink?”

“Hey, bonus.”

“Going down smoothly are they?”

She took an extended sip. “Yep. They’re so yummy.”

Loki smirked. “May I take a look?”

Nat lured Clint outside and fabricated the truth a little. “Don’t repeat this because I was told in confidence without even asking about the kiss.” She explained Loki’s apology and he was dumbfounded. “Shandi hadn’t an opportunity to thank him before we arrived and that’s what you witnessed, so relax.”

“Are you sure she was talking about Cactus?”

“Clint.”

“Okay, I’m relaxing.”

Loki finally made the bleeding stop and inspected the long and rather deep cut into the fatty tissue beneath her right pinky. “How did you manage this?”

“Lost my balance when squatting. Just my oafiness I guess.”

“Shandi. I only meant that to tease. Were you offended?”

“Nah, I kinda knew already. Friends used to say I’m like a bull in a china store.”

“I would disagree and argue your aim precise. Had I not possessed magic, I’d have gained some decent bruises from your book attack. Deservedly so, mind you.”

She smiled and indulged further in her drink. Loki believed it the reason she wasn’t experiencing pain.

“Fortunately, the wound is superficial. I can close it and temporarily numb any tenderness if you wish?”

“Really? Wow, yes please.”

“Understand that doesn’t mean it���s healed, so you’ll need to keep it clean and bandaged.”

“Does this mean I can’t go back in the pool again today?”

He smiled at her pout. “I can solve that problem too.” When done, he magicked a waterproof glove onto her hand that matched the pattern on his shorts.

Shandi eyed it and cackled. “Oh lord.” Then she finished her drink. “Thanks Loki.”

“No problem. Come, your burger is getting cold.”

Upon spotting Nat and Clint outside, Shandi darted out the door and waved her gloved hand on her way to the pool. “Look guys! Now I’m a cheap porn star too!” She jumped in and everyone laughed.

Nat then quietly addressed Loki. “How many cocos and mango has she had?”

“Three.”

They all observed Shandi attempt the backstroke and roll onto her side.

“On an empty stomach?”

“You knew?”

Loki noticed Clint smirking as Nat replied. “Yes. No more until she eats.”

“Why not?”

“Does the word handful mean anything to you?”

“Should it?”

Nat and Clint replied in unison. “Yes.”

Shandi stepped out of the pool. “Yes, to what guys?”

“Lunch. Aren’t you hungry?” Asked Clint.

Nat stiffened as Shandi plunked herself into her lap, squeezed her hair over her tits and grinned. “Yep. I could eat.”

‘Not her you won’t, Pet.’ “I’ll get right on it.” Said Loki. Clint offered help and he accepted.

Once they were inside Shandi pinched her cheek. “He kissed me today and damn it was hot.”

Nat covered her mouth. “Shhh. What did we just talk about?” She drew her hand away when Shandi bit her finger. “Beautiful.”

“What?”

“Clint can’t know.”

Shandi devilishly smiled. “About us or Loki?”

“Neither, now keep your voice down and please get off before I can’t feel my legs?”

“I’d like to get off.” Shandi whispered. “Until I fuck Loki, why don’t you take me upstairs and make me?”

Nat made her sit on another chair. “Enjoy the sun a minute. I need another drink.”

“Me too, Natskies.”

“Sure thing.” ‘Fuck, woman. Of all the times for coco to bring out your inner slut.’ She closed the kitchen door. “Give me something. Anything.” Clint held up a jar of pickles and Nat gave him a look. “Think again and she needs a virgin on the rocks.” She grabbed a plate of sliced vegetables off the island and left.

“Dare I ask, Cupid?”

Plates in hand, he went for the door. “It means straight mango juice and ice.”

“Easy enough, hang on. Why the avid concern of Shandi indulging in coco?”

Clint stepped out and winked. “Just keep her away from the pickles.”

That comment made Loki devise a plan. He’d keep a watchful eye over everyone this evening, eavesdrop on his guests conversations as previously intended and assure they had much to drink. Especially Clint. Sleep would undoubtedly claim him first and with Shandis intake easy to monitor, her second. That would leave him and Nat whom he presently eyed. “Hopefully the explanation behind Shandi and those pickles isn’t too outlandish, Kroshka. Regardless, we will talk. We will definitely talk.”

[thegreatwhiteferret]

Pretty Baby

Summary: Bill really wants to see his boyfriend Stan bent over in lingerie and a skirt.

A/N: I don’t even know. Thot Stan is an amazing thing. They are college age, no relation to the actors, so bite me.

*NSFW under the cut*

Stanley Uris could not believe that he was fucking doing this right now. This couldn’t be his fucking life.

Two weeks ago on the brink of a mind shattering climax brought on by his boyfriend’s super skilled fingers, Bill had leaned in and huskily whispered in his ear that his dirty fantasy was seeing Stan bent over, ass up, wearing a pretty skirt, makeup, lingerie, and tights, just to get absolutely ruined when Bill’s own cum stripped them. The desperation dripping from Bill’s voice, coupled with the idea that Stan himself could inspire such passion in his boy, made him cum so hard on the spot that he nearly blacked out. He had passed it off at first, just something Bill had said in the spur of the moment, until he went to borrow his boyfriend’s laptop and opened it to find the browser full of tabs from some Trashy.com and Victoria’s Secret. Stan was taken aback, it stung, he looked at the pictures of models, perfectly molded breasts and curved hips. Stan thought about his own body; flat chested, straight boyish hips, pale, and scrawny. Hair still comprised of corkscrew curls. Of all of his friends, Stan had been the one whose body had decided not to develop. He was only an inch or two taller than Eddie for crying out loud. He was still frozen in contemplation in front of the computer screen when Bill opened the door to the dorm room. Bill went into full panic mode when he saw what Stan had open on his laptop, swearing up and down that he had cleared his browser history. He moved forward cautiously to the curly haired man. “B-ba-baby.” He uttered carefully reaching to place a hand on Stan’s shoulder. When he got no reaction, he moved to talk again, “S-Stan it’s n-n-not what it l-looks l-like.” He stuttered out, nerves high. “Is this what you want?” Stan snapped out of his frozen state, “Is this what you want now, Bill? You don’t want me anymore? You don’t find me attractive...I mean why would you when...I’m nothing compared to them...” Stan’s voice broke, tears were filling his vision, he’d loved Bill, only wanted Bill for as long as he could remember. No other human could ever compare for him, but obviously Bill didn’t feel the same way. “Stan.” Bill said, hints of pain and embarrassment in his voice, Stan took it as pity. Prepared himself for whatever blow was about to come next, Bill was going to leave him for sure. “I...I...I don’t want t-them. I w-was l-looking at w-what they w-were wearing f-for you.” He pushed out, stumbling over his words. He was waiting for Stan to strike out at him, to yell, this was a weird request in all honesty. Bill knew it wasn’t normal. “What are you talking about?” Stan asked confused. His boyfriend’s words making no sense at all. Why would Bill be looking at half naked pictures for him? “Uhm...w-well...I kind of like to picture you wearing pretty lingerie and stuff.” Bill rushed out quickly, before his stutter had a chance to interject. “What?” Stand blanched, “Does this have anything to do with what you mentioned in bed the other night?” Bill nodded, ducking his head in embarrassment. Stan tried to comprehend this and let out a bit of a sigh of relief, “That’s what this is, baby? Your kinky self wants me to dress up all pretty for you? Want to run your hands up my stocking thighs under my skirt?” The other boy choked on his breath and let out an involuntary groan. Hearing his love describe his fantasy was almost too much for him. Stan took his boyfriend’s moan as the response he needed. “Well hell, Bill. Then that’s all you had to say. I thought you were going to leave me for some bimbo with big tits.” “N-no. Of course n-not. I l-love you, Stanley. Only y-you.” Bill said sincerely leaning forward and pressing his lips to Stan’s in a reassuring kiss, hoping to convey all of his feelings. Stan pulled away before Bill could really have his way with him, and pulled a groan from him. “Well Billy, let’s take a look at what you like Baby and pick something for me to rock your world in.” Bill almost cried out at the words.

True to the shipping description on the website, “Guaranteed Delivery in 5-7 Business Days”, Stan found the box waiting for him in the dorm office when he came back from his Economics class. He thanked his lucky stars that his longtime friends and dorm mates Richie, Eddie, Mike, and Ben had decided to go to some crap music festival and blown off their Friday classes. Stan was all for making his boy happy, but he wasn’t sure that he would be able to mentally calm down enough and get in the mental space to do this if there was even a possibility of one of them walking in. He sat staring at the box that sat on the table in the common room of their dorm suite, somewhat afraid to open it. He knew that Bill would be back from class in two hours, and he needed to bite the bullet and get ready. He moved to the wall and picked up the phone, resting the receiver between his shoulder and ear, quickly dialing a number and praying that they would pick up. “Hello?” Came the response and Stan could have kissed her in his excitement. “Bev! Oh thank goodness!” He nearly screamed into the mouthpiece and he could imagine Bev wincing holding the phone away from her. “Hey Stan the Man,” she responded using his old nickname, she always was good for a dose of nostalgia, “what’s up? I thought all of you were going to that blazefest that Richie found out about.” “Eww no. Anything that Richie thinks is a good time, I’ll pass on.” Stan responded, before chiding himself to get back on track, “Bev, I called because I need your help...” “What could you possibly need my help with?” She replied surprised, it wasn’t everyday that Stanley Uris asked for helped, it would be more common to see a dog walking on its hind legs. “I...I...you have to promise not to tell the others. Bill would kill me...” this had piqued Bev’s interest, she and Bill had shared a few brief months of puppy love, most of which was what could be considered long distance when she moved to Portland with her aunt. They had wound up moving back the following summer, her aunt claiming that relocating would be easier than having to listen to Bev cry over missing her friends, her Losers. The Losers Club bond was tight as ever, but her feelings for Bill were strictly platonic, plus she was really waiting for his dumbass to realize that he had feelings for his best friend, none other than Stan Uris. That took until winter break of their sophomore year when Stan finally just grabbed the taller boy by his collar and pulled him down into a kiss, tired of waiting for him to get his head out of his ass and make a move. “I’ll be over in 15.” she said, no explanation needed. No one blindly supported the two of them more than Bev. Stan hung up the phone and tapped his fingers on the table, still looking at the offending box. Bev lived in the female dorm on the other side of campus, try as they did the campus housing department would not allow her to room with them. No co-ed rooming was allowed on campus. It was a small price to pay for being able to keep the club together in one place though.

“Fucking Hell, Marsh. Stop laughing.” Bev was rolling, literally rolling with laughter across the floor. Stan had only just finished his explanation of why he needed help when she collapsed. Stan tapped the toe of his sneaker against the floor a few times, arms crossed and cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Alright, I’m sorry,” Bev laughed, pulling herself together, “I’m so sorry, Stan. Let’s get you ready. You’re so sweet for taking your boyfriend’s desires into consideration and stepping outside of your comfort zone.” Her face was still red and slight tear streaks from her mascara were visible, but she was completely sincere as she moved to find scissors to open the box. Stan sat silently and waited for more snarky responses as she pulled items out of the box, but Beverly only gasped at how gorgeous the items in the box were. She pulled out a baby blue satin bra, the top of the cups trimmed with matching blue lace. Next out of the box came the matching panties, garter belt, and white thigh high stockings with pure white lace at the top.  Bev turned to look at Stan gawking. “This is all gorgeous. You are going to look amazing, Bill is going to lose his shit!” She exclaimed. Laying all of the items out on the table, tapping her cheek with her fingertips as thoughts began to swirl in her mind. “You really think that it will look nice? Even on me?” Stan wondered out loud. Bev gave him a look of disbelief, but kept the obligatory eye roll to herself. “Oh Stanny Boy, you don’t give yourself anywhere near enough credit. You need to be confident and own it. You hold all the power here.” Stan didn’t look convinced, but she moved on, “Soooo, do we have anything else to work with? Shoes? Make up? Hair accessories? What about the skirt?” Stan blushed, surprised that anything was still embarrassing him at this point, but disappeared into his room and returned with a bag from Target.

Stan had gasped as he took in his new appearance in the mirror. It hadn’t taken Bev very long to get him all together. He stood a bit wobbly on three inch silver satin Mary Jane pumps, the delicate ankle strap the only thing keeping him at all stable. His legs were sheathed in the white nylons, lace bands stretching around his thighs where they attached to his garter belt. He had added a simple yet flirty mini skirt, it was a pale mint. Bill had mentioned once that he liked the color, Stan just never thought that he would use that knowledge for this exact purpose. He had stolen one of Bill’s white button down shirts and left the buttons undone, Bev had carefully tied it so it would show off a bit of his waist and his pretty blue bra. She had worked wonders with the bit of makeup that he had bought as well. His skin looked flawless and seemed to glow, just the right amount of rosey accent on his cheeks. She had somehow made his eyes look way bigger and brighter with shimmery eyeshadow, mascara, and black eyeliner flicked out into a perfect cat eye. Stan’s lips were a glossy pale pink with a hint of shimmer. His hair was the finishing touch, Bev had twisted a few tendrils backs and away from his face using a touch of gel and secured them with sparkly barrettes, she fluffed the rest of his hair out to add a bit more volume. He couldn’t believe it. He looked...pretty. He looked stunning if he did say so himself, he wished he could look like this all the time. He finally understood the allure that Bill saw in Stan dressing like this, because he did too. He hugged Bev goodbye and thanked her a million times, promising to give her details the following day, and leaned against the armrest of the couch. Bill would be home any minute. Stanley Uris could not believe that he was fucking doing this right now. This couldn’t be his fucking life.

Bill was pissed. Like next level pissed. His stupid Medieval Lit professor didn’t do jack shit, and certainly didn’t actually read Bill’s carefully researched and well thought out paper before slapping an ugly ass “C” on it. Bill Denbrough didn’t get “C”s, hell he freaked out if he got too many “B”s. He worked hard because he loved the content and knew that he needed a high GPA if he had any hope of actually getting a job with a damn English degree.

He half considered heading over to the health center and taking his frustration out on a punching bag, but he would rather just have Stan wrap his arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. With Stan his anger always managed to dissipate, no one could take care of him the way his boy did.

Bill took the stairs to the fifth floor to help rid himself of some frustration, he was of course one of those freaks who thoroughly enjoyed exercising and used it to relieve tension, Mike was the only other Loser who agreed that this was acceptable, everyone else thought they were both bat shit crazy. Bill reached the fifth floor and headed down the corridor to where their dorm suite was located. They were on the very end, Bill frequently wondered if they just knew that the boys were going to be loud when they submitted their application for housing, and stuck them in the last suite on the top floor, blocked off by cinder block to try to keep them from disturbing other residents.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key, slotting it into the hole and gently pushing the door open when it unlocked. He closed the door and swung his backpack off his shoulders before he finally looked up.

Stan was sitting on the arm of the couch, legs spread slightly and chest pushed out, glossed lips pouting. Bill’s eyes shoot from the heels, to the baby blue bra, to the skirt, and holy shit Stan was wearing Bill’s shirt. Jesus, Bill had never seen anything so Goddamned beautiful and sexy in his whole life.

“Mmm baby, I thought you were never going to come home, I thought I was going to have to take care of myself and start on my own.” Stan moaned out with a smirk.

Bill nearly came in his pants right then and there.

Stan could feel his confidence blooming even further, his boyfriend looked like he was in pain from the amount of pleasure he was in, and Stan hadn’t even touched him yet. He strutted up to the other boy, smirk never leaving his mouth. Bill was shaking with anticipation, Stan reached up to whisper in Bill’s ear, thankful that the heels did some of the work for him because his boyfriend was well over six feet and Stan was lucky to be considered five foot seven most days.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, you want that right, Billy? Want me to make you lose your damn mind with pleasure?” Stan whispered seductively, he had no idea that this side of him existed, but he liked it. Bill whined out in response, unable to form words. Stan pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and stepped back, turning to head to their bedroom, making sure to sway his hips as he went. He mentally fist bumped when he heard Bill behind him racing to keep up.

Bill closed the door behind him, and then was immediately slammed back against it by Stan. He didn’t even have time to steel his nerves before Stan was sinking to his knees in front of him, he made quick work of unfastening Bill’s belt and jeans, pulling them down his legs so Bill could kick out of them and toe off his sneakers. His boyfriend played with the waistband of his boxers, but made no move to actually take them off, just ran his hand up Bill’s stomach over his subtly defined abs. Bill moved to strip off his shirt, tossing it onto the growing pile of his clothing. Stan bounced back up onto his feet and stepped back taking a look at his boy.

Bill stood absurdly wearing just his boxers and his striped tube socks, a blush spreading from his cheeks down his chest. He was so damn hot, but Stan wasn’t giving in that easily. He was going to make Bill work for it.

“Bed. Now.” Bill scrambled to comply, he sat on the end of the bed waiting for Stan’s next order.

“G-g-god St-stan, you l-look so f-fucking perfect, b-baby. So fuc-fucking pretty.” Bill stumbled out, he couldn’t take it anymore, his pretty baby was driving him nuts.

“Only for you, babe. Only for your eyes.” Stan said while moving to sit in Bill’s lap, he ground down lightly and felt that Bill was already rock hard and ready to go. Bill grabbed Stan’s hips to still him, he was going to come embarrassingly fast if the smaller boy kept it up. “Tell me what you want, you can have whatever you want, but you’re going to have to say it.” Stan teased.

“S-sh-shit. W-want you t-to suck m-me off.” Bill groaned, “W-want those p-pretty glossed lips around m-my c-cock.” Stan hummed, letting Bill know to continue, “T-then I want to r-rip those p-pretty panties off of y-you, and eat y-you out u-until you are c-crying with antici-pation, and then I’m g-going to p-p-pound that t-tight ass of y-y-ours until y-ou screm a-and c-cum and then I’m going t-to pull out and c-cum all over th-that pretty f-face.” Stan groaned, he wanted all of that so bad. So so bad.

He pushed Bill back so he was lying down, and nudged him to move further up the bed. Stan knelt between Bill’s legs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. Bill hissed as his cock sprung free from its confines and the cool air hit it. He was painfully hard now, Stan could see that. He knelt forward and allowed his breath to ghost over the head, Bill’s dick twitched and pre cum leaked from his slit. Stan couldn’t stop himself from looking Bill dead in the eye and licking his lips.

He loved the teasing, but he leaned down and licked a stripe up the side of his cock, Bill’s moans becoming his soundtrack, cheering him on to continue. He slipped the head in his mouth and sucked, Bill cried out in pleasure, and Stan without skipping a beat began to take him all the way down. He swallowed around his dick, willing his gag reflex to stay away. When he needed to take a breath he began sliding his mouth up and down, alternating between nose resting in Bill’s well kept happy trail and tongue swirling around the tip.

Bill could feel his stomach tightening. He knew what would happen next, if Stan didn’t stop. He pushed on Stan’s shoulder, urging the boy to pull off, but Stand just looked him dead in the eye and kept up with his torturous suction. “B-baby p-please, I’m g-gonna cum.” He warned again, plea falling on deaf ears. Bill couldn’t hold on anymore he shouted out and he realeased his loud down his boyfriend’s throat. Stan kitten licked his head, making sure he got every single drop from Bill.

Bill sat up and pulled Stan into a filthy kiss, tasting himself on Stan’s tongue. They made out lazily for a few minutes, Bill softly palming Stan under his skirt through his silky panties. He could feel a wet spot forming on the fabric, Stan getting more and more desperate. He reached around, rubbing his hand over Stan’s plump ass and then lifting his hand to slap it. Stan let out a surprised squeak, but arched his back out more so Bill could do it again.

“H-hands and kn-knees now, L-little S-slut.” Bill said, taking control. Stan was running the show, but hot damn did he love it when Bill got impatient and took control, so he scrambled onto his hands and knees, presenting his ass to his boy for the taking. “G-good boy.” Bill praised, running his hands up and down his ass, he pulled down the blue satin, revealing Stan’s milky mounds. Bill could see a small reddening where his hand had made contact with with the smaller man’s ass. He couldn’t help himself, he rested his hand against the mark before lifting it and adding to the redness, he did this until he could see the definitive print of his hand mark his boy’s ass and Stan was writhing in pleasure underneath him. “Y-you like that, d-don’t you s-slut?”

“Y-y-es! Holy shit, yes!” Stan screamed, he wanted Bill in him, wanted Bill to get on with it now. “Fuck my ass with your tongue, baby. Open me up for that big cock of yours, I want you to pound be into the fucking mattress.” Bill smirked at his boyfriend’s desperation, enjoying the momentary role reversal.

Bill got to work, he pressed light kisses down Stan’s spine, watching as the other boy falls apart more. He spread his cheeks and looked at Stan’s perfect puckered pink hole. Watched it twitch as an invitation, just waiting for Bill to devour it. He licked a stripe over it, keeping his tongue flat as he repeated the motion. Stan was crying out, lost in pleasure. Bill took the opportunity and works the tip of his tongue into his hole, stretching the opening slightly until he could full on fuck into his boyfriend’s sweet asshole with his tongue. He did so with reckless abandon, jaw aching, and Stan falling to his elbows, unable to hold his own weight.

“T-ta-take off the shirt, i w-want to s-see t-that pretty b-bra.” Bill requested before reaching his hand around to Stan’s front, collecting some precum from the weeping head and using it to slowly jerk Stan off teasingly. Stan complied with Bill’s instruction but was clearly waiting for Bill to do even more, but that’s not how Bill plays. He wanted the other boy to beg.

“Please!” Stan cried out, he wanted to cum so bad, but also wanted to feel all of Bill inside of him even more. Wanted to be stretched open on his boyfriend's huge cock, wanted to feel the shocks of Bill pounding into his prostate over and over again like only he could.

“P-please, what?” Bill asked, playing coy, moving his mouth away from Stan’s hole, but keeping his hand working on his dick. He was already reaching for the bottle of lube, that Stan had left on the side table.

“Please...please...gah...please fuck me, want you inside of me Baby, need to feel you.” Stan babbled and Bill finally gives in to his requests. He removed his hand, and moved to coat his own cock with lube, he quickly coated three of his fingers as well. Stan was already loose from the assault of Bill’s tongue, so it took no time to scissor two fingers into his hot hole and then slip a third in. “I’m ready, Bill I’m fucking ready, get your fingers out of my ass and stick that big and thick penis of yours up my ass...” Stan whined, but was cut off when Bill pushed in to the hilt with no warning. He cried out at how full he felt.

Bill pounded into him, just like he asked for. He looked at his beautiful boyfriend, his blue satin bra contrasting against the pale skin of his back, skirt hiked up around his hips so that Bill could take his ass and use it, and those damn stockings on his legs, Bill was buying him so many more of those.

Stan’s ass was warm and tight, no matter how many times they have done this, Bill was always mesmerized by how his boyfriend feels. If he could only do one thing for the rest of his life, he could honestly say that it would be fucking, Stan. He could feel that Stan was getting close, sharp gasps and moans leaving him. He angled his hips and felt Stan seize as he hit his prostate, and smiled to himself before pounding harder into that spot with every thrust.

He pulled Stan up so he was on his knees, back leaning into Bill’s chest. His hand pulled down one of the cups of Stan’s bra, tweaking his nipple as he continuing his ruthless thrusting. Stan was crying, begging Bill to let him cum. Bill obliged, he wrapped his hand around Stan’s dick and in three strokes, Stan was screaming and Bill could feel Stan’s dick pulsing as warm cum flooded over his fingers. He held his hand out for Stan, and he licked his own cum up, swirling his tongue around Bill’s fingers to get it all. Bill thrusted lightly one more time, before motioning for Stan to turn around.

Stan did one better, he got off of the bed and sunk to his knees, tilting his head back slightly. Bill began jerking himself mercilessly, pulling himself closer and closer to the edge, aching to paint his boy with his cum. Show him just how much he was his.

“Come on, you can do it.” Stan urged him on, “Cum on my face, Daddy.” Bill fucking lost it when Stan called him that, he came harder than he could ever remember doing before, his huge load landed all over Stan’s face and chest. He sat heaving for a moment, coming back to himself when he heard Stan.

“Shit baby, that really got you, huh? You like being called Daddy, don’t you? That’s so hot.” Stan whispered in his ear, pulling him in for a soft and slow kiss. “But fuck, I don’t know how I’m going to get the stains out of my bra…” He pouted.

“I-i’ll buy you a-another one. A-an-anything you w-want, just s-say the w-word.” Bill stuttered, out of breath. He pulled a few tissues out of the dispenser and began wiping his cum off of Stan.

“Ooooooh, Sugar Daddy William Denbrough, I could definitely get used to that.” Stan giggled.

Bill pulled Stan up from the floor and towards their bathroom. This was not a clean up job that could be accomplished with just tissues. Bill started the shower, adjusting it to Stan’s preferred temperature, because he was amazing like that. Stan stripped himself out of all of his pretty clothes. Bill had him sit on the counter, carefully unbuckling his shoes and letting them drop to the floor, before rolling the stockings down Stan’s thighs. Stan reached up to remove his sparkly barrettes and leaves them on the counter. Bill helped him step in the shower, and began to lather shampoo into his curls, making sure to get all of the gel out.

Stan felt so loved and cared for. How could he have ever gotten so lucky to find someone like Bill? Someone who worshiped him and made him feel so pretty?

Stan couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be his fucking life.

[premiumbtstrash]

Yoongi x Reader | Sometimes I Hate you more than I Love you PART 3 (final)

Based on the BTS Reaction: “meeting them again after you disappeared for 2 years without an explanation”

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Suga) x Reader | PART 1 PART 2

Words: 2,2k

Contains: angst, fluff, lil smut, mostly angst as always, (mention of alcohol abuse?), lil sweating here and there

Author’s note: This is the last part of this series. I hope you like it! & I hope the grammar is not too troublesome and that you can read it.

“She was there when you left me.” It came out clear and calm. You didn’t expect him to say it that directly, knowing that it would hurt you. “You’re not even denying it?” You ask, lowering your voice. “There’s no need to. Life did go on for the both of us.” You frowned upon his words. “Are you intending to hurt me or what?”

It was quiet for a moment before you realized and stood up from the bed and walked a few steps in the room. “Is this some kind of revenge or something?” Yoongi leaned against a shelf and followed you with his look, while drying his hair with a towel. “What are you saying? Of course not.” “Then why is she calling you? You ended this with her, right?” You said finally, louder that you wanted it to be. He didn’t respond. He just looked at you with a gloomy look. “Right?” You added. He looked away, avoiding your gaze and now the situation was clear for you. 

“Oh my god.” You pressed your hands against your head and closed your eyes. “What am I even to you?” You voice trailed off, while tears were running down. “What am I to you Y/N?” He asked you with a serious voice. You let your hands fall down and opened your eyes. “You asking me that? You’re the one with a girlfriend!” You yelled at him. He pushed himself off the shelf and walked in your direction.

“First she’s not my girlfriend and second-“ He broke off. “Second what?” “Forget it.” “No! Say it!” You demanded. He ran his fingers through his hair. He suddenly turned soft and met your eyes again. “Who says that you won’t leave me again?” You turned silent. “I really tried to enjoy my time with you but I know it’s limited. There is something you can’t tell me and there’s a reason to why you left, I know that you won’t tell me and that’s ok but I can’t go on like this. I’m done with your lies.”

“So that’s it? That’s how we’re gonna break up?” He smiled weakly at you. “I’m sorry.” His words cut like knifes and you just wanted to leave, leave this room and leave this country, everything but him. “Ok.” You quickly said before grabbing your bag and walking out of the room, shutting the door behind you.

You waited a second before you put your shoes on and left the house. The cool night wind stung your cheeks, drying your tears. This was it. This was the end of your relationship with him, or whatever the last month was.

3 weeks later was the first time Yoongi was more or less sober again. The last weeks he spent his time in bars and clubs, drowning himself in alcohol and waking up in strange beds. His band members tried to help him, kept an eye on him but he isolated himself from them and didn’t let anyone near him.

One day he woke up in the hospital, diagnosed with alcohol intoxication and attached to an IV bag. The band members were all around in the hospital room. They were really worried about him but also mad and talked to him that he has to change now before it’s too late.

That was also the day he managed to get on his feet again. He stopped drinking and went to work again. Hoseok send you a text message, reporting in what condition he was but you didn’t respond. The break up would be easier for him if he hates you, you thought. But it broke your hear to hear what he had done after you left, again.

It was strange the first day he was in the practice room again and he clearly wasn’t fit enough to keep up with the others so he took a break and went outside to get himself something to drink. He inserted his money into the vending machine and bended down to get his drink out. He felt a hand touching his shoulder and looked up.

“I’m glad your back Yoongi Min.” It was one of the managers, which you also know “too good”. “It was about time.” He replied quickly, wanting to leave. “I’m sorry for what happened with your girl.” He just stared at him in confusion. How did he know about it? Sure, some of the staff members knew about your relationship but you never showed it in public. Barely anyone expect the band members knew it.

“What do you mean?”  He replied. The older man tried to explain himself. “You broke up with her, or not? Anyway, it’s for the better. Now you can concentrate on music again, right?” “What are you talking about?” Yoongi set his can aside on the table that was besides the vending machine and stepped forward, forcing the man to step back.  

“Hey hey. Don’t be mad. There are other girls out there.” He waved with his hands. “Did you talk to her?” “No! I don’t even know her.” The man’s forehead started to get sweaty out of being nervous. Yoongi turned louder “You did something to her, right? That’s why she was afraid when she met you again?”

The other band members started to wonder why his break took so long and went outside to search for him. They went just around the corner before he could make his move. Jungkook was the first that got a hold of him and pulled him back before his fist could reach the manager’s face.

“You fucking asshole! Don’t you dare talk to her ever again!” He yelled, while trying to escape Jungkook’s grip. “Hey Yoongi. Calm yourself!” Namjoon claimed, trying to control the situation. “Get him out of here.” He said to Jungkook and the others and pointed towards the entrance. Jungkook and Tae grabbed his arms and drug him out of the bilding, followed by the others. His withdrawl got weaker once they were out and then forced him back to the dorms.

“What on earth was that Yoongi!?” Jin asked him, once they arrived at the dorm. “This asshole did say something to Y/N and then she left!” “What?” Jimin asked in surprise. “How did he even know that you two were dating?” “I don’t know. I just know that he has something to do with this.” Yoongi slowly calmed down and let himself fall into a chair. 

“I’m so stupid.” He talked to himself, resting his forehead on his hands and looking down to the ground. Jimin reached him a glass of water and stroke over his back. “We don’t know what happened, we’ll just wait till Namjoon arrives, ok?”

It took quite some time until their leader came back. He unlocked the door to the dorms, already awaited of curious eyes. “She didn’t want to leave you.” He just burst out. He took of his shoes and his jacket, taking his time while the others die out of tension. 

“What happened?” Taehyung finally asked. “They did pay her to leave.” He said calmly, like it was nothing. But he sure just wanted to sound serene, not to freak the others out immediately. “They saw how distracted you were from work and talked to her that it was for the better if she would leave and gave her a cheque to make sure she stays away.” He continued. “But she never turned it in. She didn’t take the money and came back to you.”

“What?? Our management made her go?” Hoseok yelled. “No, not our management. Just this one person, the management didn’t know about his action and fired him just now.” “Unbelievable.” Jin added before sitting down besides Yoongi. “Are you ok?” Yoongi looked up and saw the others starring at him, waiting for his reaction. He jumped up and passed by, not turning around again and headed towards the door. “I have to leave.” “Where are you going?” Namjoon tried to stop him but he already left.

You spend the last weeks crying, literally nothing but crying. After the fight you had with Yoongi you packed your things and flew back to your home, to your familie’s house and moved in in your child room again. Your mother was caring for you and your sister was trying her best to cheer you up but all you did was pity and isolate yourself from everyone. 

You barely ate anything today and just sat at the table starring at your food. “So I’m staying at April’s place tonight, is that ok?” You got shocked for a second. You didn’t hear this name for a while and let your fork fall down in respond. 

“I’m sorry.” You said while picking the fork up again. “Is something wrong?” Your sister asked you. “No. I’m fine.” You gave her a weak smile and continued eating, more or less. Your mother and her bandied looks before they continued eating. April was your sister’s best friend but you totally forgot about that and the second you heard her name, the face of Yoongi flashed before your eyes.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” You stood up and took your plate to the kitchen and headed towards your room. “Good night, Honey.” Your mother called after you but you didn’t hear it anymore. You leaned against your closed door, once you were in your room again and let out a loud sigh. Shit, you thought. Why does a simple name confuse you so much?

You walked over to your bed and let yourself fall onto it and starred at the ceiling. You drifted off to sleep until some noises woke you up again. It was raining outside but not as much as it would have woken you up. You slowly opened your eyes and looked over to the watch on your side table. It was almost midnight. 

You stood up and wanted to change into your pyjamas but you heard the noise again. It sounded like something is hitting your window, so you went closer to take a look. It was dark, just one single streetlamp enlightened the silhouettes of the trees in your garden. There it was again, a little stone hit the window that lead out to your balcony. You unlooked the window and stepped outside and bend over to look down, not minding the rain at all. 

“Last time you asked me what you are to me?” a familiar voice called. It was him. You didn’t believe that fucking Min Yoongi stood in your garden, throwing stones at your window, already completely soaked form the rain. Tears started to fill your eyes, partly out of happiness but also partly out of sadness. 

“I’m here to tell you.” He started smiling and you couldn’t do anything expect starring at him. You covered your mouth once he started talking. “You are everything for me! You’re the woman I want to fall asleep next to every night. You’re the woman that I want to see every day when I wake up. You’re the last person on my mind before I fall asleep and you’re the first one that I think about every morning. You’re the one that changes me and showed me what love could feel like. You’re the one that I want to always be around and not leave for a single second. You’re the one … you’re the one I want to marry someday and grow old together. You’re the love of my life Y/N! That’s what you are to me.” 

His voice trailed off, completely out of breath. “Yoongi..” You breathed out his name. There was no holding back anymore and your tears started rolling down your cheeks. His smile got even brighter at the look of you and it looked like a stone fell down off his heart. You turned around running out of your room and down the stairs, nearly falling down but could hold onto the handrail just in time. You swung the door open and Yoongi was already waiting on your doorstep. 

Water drops fell down from the tips of his hair, his shirt completely damp and he was looking at you through the hair that fell into his forehead. “I love you” He said quickly with his husky voice, before closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss. He was kissing you so intensely that he took your breath away before closing the door behind you with his leg. 

He pushed you up against the wall besides the door and let his hand slide down the side of your leg to pick it up and place it around his hips. You moaned out at his touch while his kisses became deeper. “I missed you so badly.” He said in between kisses. “Me too.” You responded. He trailed more kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Yoongi broke away and looked up at you again, hungry eyes were staring at you. 

“You really drive me insane, do you know that?” He groaned before he lifted you up in one smooth motion. You wrapped your legs tightly around him, your hands around his neck as you kissed him desperately. He began to move towards the stairs and upstairs into your room, without breaking away for a second. All you needed now was him and him only. Everything around you vanished and you could only see him and feel his heat pressed against you. That might become a rough night for the both of you. Luckily, your parents were out that night.