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writerofsorts · 8 months ago

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Back to Rosewood

(image creds: to the owner)

pairing: jason dilaurentis x female reader.

summary: 2x02 "the goodbye look" episode imagine/rewrite.

warnings: mentions of murder.

*read previous part here!

—————

Night had fallen upon the town of Rosewood and [Y/N] found herself in the safety of her bedroom in her home. She was seated at her desk, trying to finish up her homework. However, the work laid open in front of her, unfinished as she found herself constantly getting distracted by the events of the past few months.

She had never once imagined that Ian’s death would bring up so much trouble for her friends and herself. The entire town seemed to believe the girls were liars, not believing their words of Ian being Alison’s killer. On top of that, she and her friends were still dealing with A along with therapy.

[Y/N] groaned and buried her face in her hands, thinking about the meeting with the therapist, Dr. Sullivan, earlier that day. She and the girls were close to telling the doctor about their cyber bully, and [Y/N] had to admit that it felt good.

But, as always, A was one step ahead and was successful in keeping the girls quiet. [Y/N] knew Dr. Sullivan must think she and her friends were crazy indeed by the way they had acted.

A knock on her door made her look up at the doorway and her parents along with her brother stood there with small smiles on their faces.

“You busy, kiddo?” her father, James, spoke first.

“Uh, no, not really,” [Y/N] shook her head, closing her books and pushing them away. “Come on in.”

Her parents entered the room first and sat on her bed while she turned in her chair so that she sat facing them. Her brother, Sid, came to stand next to her and perched at the edge of her desk, playfully messing up her hair. She gave him a playful glare before laughing when he stuck his tongue out at her.

The parents took a moment to admire their kids and the beautiful bond they shared. Reality hit them the next moment and they looked at each other sadly, knowing what they were about to ask next was going to take their daughter’s smile away, even if it would be temporary.

“So, sweetheart,” Leslie began, clearing her throat. “Your father and I just got off the phone with your therapist a few minutes ago.”

Just as they had expected, the playfulness in [Y/N] faded as her expression turned serious.

“Oh,” she replied softly after a few moments. “Uh, yes, today was not a good day.”

“She didn’t tell us exactly what happened,” James spoke next. “However, she did tell us that she doesn’t think it would be helpful to continue seeing you girls as a group.”

“So, she wants us to come in for individual sessions?” asked [Y/N], thinking that shouldn’t be too terrible.

“Well, yes,” her father continued after sharing a glance with her mother. “Also, based on your sessions, she’s making a recommendation.”

“Which I’m not a fan of,” her brother added to the conversation for the first time.

“W-what recommendation?” [Y/N] asked. Her worry grew with her brother’s words and she looked at him once before turning towards her parents again.

“Dr. Sullivan doesn’t think you girls are capable of maintaining a healthy friendship at the moment,” Leslie explained with sympathy lacing her voice. “So, she’s recommending that you girls spend some time apart.”

“Are you saying that I can’t see or talk to my friends?” [Y/N] asked in disbelief.

“This is not forever, honey,” James replied quickly.

“I don’t understand what the shrink is trying to do here by splitting up [y/n/n] and the girls,” Sid commented. “They’ve been through so much. And, now with everything that’s happened with Ian, separating them is a terrible idea!”

“I know, son,” sighed James. “The other parents and we talked. We all mutually agreed that Dr. Sullivan’s suggestion might be for the best.”

“Unbelievable,” Sid muttered with a shake of his head.

“[Y/N], sweetheart, say something,” Leslie said softly.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” [Y/N] replied with a shrug. “It looks like you guys have already decided.”

“It’s just temporary, we promise,” her mother answered apologetically.

[Y/N] dropped her gaze to the floor. She wanted to be upset and throw a tantrum, but that was not her. At the same time, she knew without a doubt that she and her friends would not just stop hanging out.

Even with this new restriction from their parents, [Y/N] was sure that she and the girls would find a way to connect and deal with the fallout from Ian’s death as well as the threat of A. They had to.

“I understand,” she said, looking back up at her parents with a light smile.

Her parents gave her a hug and thanked her for being understanding before leaving her room. Her brother, however, hung back with a suspicious look in his eyes.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

Her brother didn’t reply and waited until he was sure their parents were downstairs and out of earshot.

“You and your friends are not gonna listen, are you?” he asked quietly, his lips curled in a smirk, and [Y/N] sighed.

“Look, I feel bad, but we can’t just not hang out,” she answered softly. “There’s a lot going on and we need each other.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Sid's playfulness disappeared and he moved to hug her, not liking the fact that his little sister was under a lot of stress. “I’m on your side in all of this. If you need anything, I’m right here.”

“I know,” she said, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

“Just be smart in sneaking around, though,” he teased, pulling back from the hug and ruffling her hair.

“For sure,” [Y/N] chuckled, nodding in agreement.

…

Later that night, [Y/N] was woken up by the vibration of her cellphone on the nightstand. She grabbed the phone to see a text message from Spencer: ‘S.O.S.’

[Y/N] quietly made her way down the stairs to grab her coat and sneakers. Just as she finished wearing her coat, her phone vibrated yet again and she checked it to see a text from Hanna this time: ‘I’m waiting in your backyard.’

[Y/N] loved that she and Hanna were not only the best friends but neighbors as well. That was how they became close, anyway. Still when it came to sneaking out at night to meet up with her friends, she wasn’t a big fan as she didn’t like the dark. But with Hanna, it was easier and she didn’t feel as scared.

She hurriedly wore her shoes and slipped out of her house through the backdoor to see Hanna waving at her while her other hand was buried in her coat pocket.

“Can’t believe Dr. Sullivan thought she could keep us apart from each other,” Hanna scoffed when [Y/N] reached her. “You can’t tell a lot about a person by their shoes, after all.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” [Y/N] said, half amused as she dragged Hanna with her. “Now, let’s go.”

The night was dark and chilly as the two friends made their way towards the greenhouse where Spencer had told the girls that she would be waiting.

When [Y/N] and Hanna reached the greenhouse, Aria and Emily were already there with Spencer. The five girls huddled closer together and Spencer began to explain about why she had messaged them all so late.

“Anyone could’ve sent that, Spence,” Aria was the first to speak after Spencer showed the girls a text that Melissa had received from an unknown number.

“Yeah, it could be some jerk trying to mess with Melissa,” Hanna added.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t seem random,” Spencer sighed, looking down at the message again and reading it. “It’s not safe. I can’t tell you.”

“I can’t tell you what?” Emily asked, her brows furrowed in thought.

“Wherever he is,” Spencer said, sounding confident.

“Spence, Ian is dead,” [Y/N] spoke, wrapping her arms around herself. The thought of Ian being alive made her feel uneasy. “I mean, we all saw him, didn’t we?”

“True,” Hanna said, touching [Y/N]’s forearm over her coat. “But, there’s only one way to know if its Ian texting Melissa or not.”

The other girls looked at Hanna curiously as she looked at Spencer with determined eyes.

“Answer him, Spence. Ask him something that only Ian would know.”

Spencer nodded before typing, ‘how do I know this is you?’

‘Ask me anything,’ came the reply almost immediately from the unknown number.

“I know,” Spencer whispered to herself before her fingers flew over the phone’s keyboard. “What are we naming our baby?”

“What’s the baby’s name?” [Y/N] asked once Spencer finished typing.

“Taylor,” Spencer replied just as the phone in her hand buzzed. She took in a deep breath before looking at the phone only to gasp out loud the next second. With wide eyes, she showed the phone screen to her friends who all showed similar expressions.

‘Taylor,’ the text read.

“It is him,” Hanna whispered in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Emily said just as [Y/N] spoke, “Ian is alive.”

As if the girls weren’t already terrified, the wind outside suddenly picked up and the greenhouse’s doors started to slam over and over again.

“Did things just get incredibly worse?” Aria asked, trying to speak louder over the sound of the wind.

“I don’t believe this,” Emily said, shaking her head. “Ian’s dead.”

“Zombies don’t text, Emily,” Hanna said sarcastically. “He is alive somewhere.”

“Spence?” [Y/N] called when the girl in question remained silent for a long time.

“I have to get this phone home before Melissa notices that it’s gone,” Spencer said, her lips almost trembling.

“Okay and then what?” Hanna questioned as the wind continued to blow rather wildly outside. “What do we do about this information?”

“Do we tell the cops?” Aria asked, shivering a little.

“That’s not a good idea,” [Y/N] answered. “Telling the cops never works out well for us.”

“True,” Emily sighed in defeat.

“Why is Ian texting Melissa anyway?” Aria asked but before Spencer could answer, Hanna added, “And, why is Melissa answering him?”

“Is she?” asked Emily, skeptic. “I mean, we don’t know how long this has been going on.”

“Spence, you’ve got to find out what Ian told Melissa,” Aria said to the stressed-out girl. “You are the only one who can find out what he wants.”

“And, where he is,” Hanna commented.

The slamming of the door got louder than before and suddenly rocks started to fall off the roof, causing the girls to panic further.

“Let’s get out of here,” [Y/N] spoke, grabbing Hanna and Aria’s hands, who were standing next to her, and dragging them towards the exit. Emily and Spencer weren’t far behind.

Once they got to a safe distance from the greenhouse, things were strangely quiet except for the soft chirping of crickets. They walked down to Spencer’s house which was closer.

“Let’s just finish this at school,” Hanna spoke first. “I’m cold, damp, and scared. We could talk at school.”

“We can’t talk at school, remember?” [Y/N] asked once they stopped near Spencer’s house.

“Yeah, the five of us are supposed to have separate time,” Aria said in disappointment.

“Doctor’s orders,” Emily said with a roll of her eyes.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” scoffed Hanna. “Not talk to each other when we’re all literally in the same classes?”

“We just have to play it cool,” Spencer said calmly even though she was anything but after everything that happened.

Before the girls could talk further, a loud noise interrupted them. They turned in the direction of the noise and were surprised to see a familiar face outside the DiLaurentis house.

“It’s Jason,” Spencer whispered, surprised.

[Y/N], meanwhile, froze in her spot. The last time she had seen Jason was several months ago when he visited her at the hospital after A hit her with their car.

Even though it was dark, she could still make out his appearance and she was taken aback a little by what she saw. The last time he was in Rosewood, he seemed… put-together, for the lack of a better word. He wore suits and had his hair done nicely, not one strand out of place.

Seeing him now, however, reminded her of the old Jason. His hair had grown a little and fell over his forehead as he bent down. He was wearing a fitted Henley shirt that hugged his muscles with denim jeans. He definitely looked good and she had to try her best to not blush at her own thoughts, especially in front of her friends.

Hanna slowly slipped her arm around [Y/N]’s, pulling the latter out of her thoughts.

‘Did you know he was back?’ Hanna mouthed and [Y/N] shook her head in denial.

“Did he move back in?” Hanna asked, clearing her throat lightly.

“Looks like it?” Aria said, sounding unsure just like the rest of them.

“What is all that?” Spencer asked in confusion as she and her friends watched Jason throw away a bunch of things into the dumpster.

“That looks like all the stuff people left on their curb when Ali went missing,” Aria said.

“Maya said her family kept those things when they moved in,” Emily added. “They didn’t have the heart to throw them out.”

“Apparently, Jason’s moved on,” Spencer said with sarcasm and [Y/N] frowned at the brunette’s tone.

“What is he doing in that house anyway?” asked Aria.

“You know what? We’ve already got a lot on our plates,” Hanna said, trying to shift the conversation away from Jason. “Let’s just go home.”

“Han’s right,” [Y/N] said, grateful for Hanna’s interference. “See you guys at school tomorrow.”

The other girls agreed and said their goodbyes before splitting up.

“[y/n/n], did you know Jason was coming back?” Hanna asked again when it was just herself and [Y/N].

“No, I didn’t,” [Y/N] replied. “The last time I saw him was at the hospital. I remember he said he would be coming back but he didn’t exactly keep me updated. I mean, he didn’t have to.”

The girls soon reached [Y/N]’s backyard and paused in front of the door.

“Do you think he’s moved back for good?” Hanna asked softly.

“I don’t know,” [Y/N] shook her head. “But, why would he, though? It’s not like there’s anything here for him, is there?”

“You never know,” Hanna replied softly.

[Y/N] smiled a little at her best friend; the fact that Hanna was so hopeful regarding her and Jason touched her.

“Go get some sleep, Han,” [Y/N] said, playfully pushing the blonde in the direction of her house.

“You’re no fun,” Hanna pouted, walking backwards.

“Good night, Hanna banana,” [Y/N] laughed, opening the backdoor quietly.

“Good night, [y/n/n],” Hanna said back before the two girls entered their homes at the same time to get some sleep.

…

“Wait, so Jason doesn’t believe that Ian killed Ali?” [Y/N] asked in a whisper, glancing at the closed door of her bedroom once.

The next evening, [Y/N] was in her bedroom, scrolling through her twitter feed when she received a call from Spencer. The younger Hastings had gone to welcome Jason back to town – in other words, she had gone to spy on him – and it hadn’t gone so well. After returning home, [Y/N] was the first person Spencer had called to share how her conversation with Jason went.

“I mean, I think so?” Spencer replied in a whisper as well and [Y/N] could feel the frustration in her friend’s voice. “He asked me if Ian said the words I killed Ali and I told him he didn’t, but that’s what it seemed like and he got all snippy about it!”

Spencer huffed out a breath and [Y/N] bit her lip in thought.

“Do you think he’s in denial?” Spencer asked, continuing their chat quietly. “He and Ian were besties. He probably doesn’t want to accept that his best friend killed his little sister?”

“I’m not sure, Spence,” replied [Y/N]. “Even if they were best friends, Jason can’t just look past the fact that Ian killed Ali.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Spencer agreed. “Hey, do you remember that one day Ali and Jason were fighting?”

“You have to be a bit more specific because all they did was fight around us,” [Y/N] said, mild amusement lacing her voice and Spencer scoffed out a laugh.

“I’m talking about the time Jason was mad at Ali for going to his room and messing with his stuff?” Spencer recalled and [Y/N] found herself nodding at the memory.

“I do,” she said. “That’s when Ali made that comment about things being hidden until she wants them found, right?”

“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, trying her hardest to keep her voice quiet.

“But, why are we suddenly talking about the past?” [Y/N] asked, confused.

“I- I had a thought,” Spencer said, her words coming out slowly which worried [Y/N].

“What is it?”

“Jason used to be so aggressive, [y/n/n]. Do you think he-”

“Spence, don’t go there,” [Y/N] interrupted quickly.

“You didn’t let me finish!” argued Spencer.

“You were going to suggest Jason had something to do with Ali’s murder,” [Y/N] said, not liking the words that left her mouth. Spencer’s brief silence on the other end was all the answer [Y/N] needed to know that she was right. “Where’d you get the idea that Jason could be an accomplice in Ali’s murder?”

“I don’t know what else to think,” Spencer admitted quietly. “He’s suddenly back in town and doesn’t believe Ian killed his sister.”

“Don’t do this, Spence,” [Y/N] advised softly. “We’ve already got zombie Ian and A on our hands. Let’s not add Jason into the mix.”

“I guess so,” sighed Spencer. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” [Y/N] replied. “I understand we’re all kind of on the edge right now. But, let’s not overthink. For now, at least.”

“I’ll try,” Spencer sighed again, dramatically this time, causing [Y/N] to chuckle.

“Hey, I should go now,” said [Y/N]. “I’ve been in my room for a while now. I should make an attendance downstairs for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course,” Spencer laughed. “See you in school tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” [Y/N] responded. “Good night, Spence.”

“Good night, [y/n/n],” Spencer replied before hanging up.

...

The girls were sneaking out yet again in the middle of the night. [Y/N] was starting to dislike Dr. Sullivan because she hated that greenhouse with a passion. It was creepy, to say the least, but she and her friends had no other choice.

“It was in the pocket of her coat,” Spencer said, showing her friends pictures of Melissa’s ultrasound. “Her coat was wet and so were her boots.”

“She lied to you about going out?” [Y/N] asked.

“I don’t think she went far,” replied Spencer. “I checked the driveway and it was dry under her car so I don’t think she drove anywhere.”

“Who would she want to show these to?” Aria asked, handing the ultrasound pictures back to Spencer.

“I can only think of one person,” Hanna said with a roll of her eyes.

“Ian,” Emily said, letting out a deep breath. “Spencer, if you’re saying she didn’t drive anywhere to see him, then that means he must be close.”

“Han, you were right,” Spencer said. “This is the worst time to be splitting up. We have to stick together.”

“Exactly, no matter how much lying it takes,” Hanna nodded.

“If only all of our parents were like my brother,” [Y/N] sighed.

“Can we switch siblings?” Spencer pouted at [Y/N], who instantly shook her head.

“Absolutely not,” [Y/N]’s instant reply was met with light laughter from her friends and they all cherished it. It had been a while since they’ve had the chance to be normal teenagers and to just have fun.

“Let’s get out of here,” Aria said after a while and the girls agreed before walking out of the greenhouse.

They were passing by the DiLaurentis house again when Emily suddenly stopped in her steps, causing the other girls to do the same.

“What is that?” she asked, looking at what appeared to be garden supplies laying on the front yard of the house.

Before they could inspect further, a bright flashlight shone in their faces and they held their hands in front of their eyes.

“Jason?” Spencer asked first, squinting at the taller man and he finally lowered the flashlight.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said after he noticed the familiar girls in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s only us,” Aria answered with an awkward smile.

He turned off the flashlight and when he looked up, his gaze fell on [Y/N].

“Hey, are you better now?” he asked her, his voice softening. “I haven’t seen you since the accident.”

“Oh, uh, yes, I’m better now. Thank you,” [Y/N] replied, smiling lightly at him. She felt nervous with his attention on her. It also didn’t help that she could feel the curious eyes of Aria, Emily, and Spencer on her as well. Except for Hanna, the other girls didn't know about Jason visiting her at the hospital.

“So, what have you been up to?” Hanna asked Jason casually, shifting the attention away from [Y/N] for which the latter was grateful for.

“I’ve been replanting all day,” Jason replied. “I’m putting up a fence as well.”

“A fence? Why?” Spencer asked – her eyes and voice were obvious of her suspicion of Jason.

“Privacy, security,” Jason answered, his voice turning a little rough. “There’s a lot of curious creeps in the world and one way or another, people are gonna mind their own business.”

The girls looked at each other subtly, feeling a little uneasy with Jason’s piercing eyes shifting between them.

“You girls better go home,” he said before turning to walk back into his house.

The girls walked a little further away and stopped by the side of the road again when they heard the sound of Jason shutting the door.

“[y/n/n], you didn’t tell us Jason visited you,” Spencer shot instantly.

“I didn’t think it was important,” [Y/N] replied, shrugging a little.

“But, why did he visit you?” Aria asked, frowning in confusion.

“He was probably being nice, Aria,” Hanna answered before [Y/N] could. “And, yes, I know that he visited [y/n/n], because I ran into him there.”

[Y/N] looked at Hanna at the blonde’s easy lie. Hanna didn’t meet Jason at the hospital; [Y/N] had told Hanna about Jason visiting her with some get well soon gifts. Since Hanna was already aware of her feelings towards Jason, she was the only person [Y/N] felt comfortable sharing about his unexpected visit with.

“Look, he probably visited me, because he felt obligated to since he worked on Ali’s memorial with us,” [Y/N] said, hoping to move past this topic.

“That makes sense,” Emily said calmly after a few moments, which caused Aria and Spencer to loosen up a little as well. “And, am I the only one thinking who is Jason trying to keep out with that fence?”

“Keep out or keep in?” Spencer asked back, and [Y/N] could tell the former still believed that Jason was helping Ian hide and had some part in killing Ali.

“Look, it’s too late to be doing this,” Hanna said. Similar to [Y/N], Hanna had an idea of where Spencer might be going with this and she was exhausted to be working on any more mysteries for the night. “Let’s just do this at school tomorrow or whatever.”

[Y/N] internally sighed in relief when the other girls agreed with Hanna and parted ways, making their ways towards their houses.

“Thanks for the rescue back there,” [Y/N] told Hanna once it was just the two of them.

“Anytime, [y/n/n],” Hanna grinned, looping her arm around [Y/N]’s, making the latter chuckle.

The two made their ways towards their homes in comfortable silence, hoping to get some rest before facing the stressful days ahead.

—————

#jason dilaurentis x reader #jason dilaurentis x female reader #jason dilaurentis fanfiction #pretty little liars #pll fanfiction #jason dilaurentis #drew van acker

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newkatzkafe2023 · 2 months ago

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Can you imagine the monkey King's wife being exactly like chi chi from dragon ball 😂.

A monkey version of her

They are very scared of her, and she's the only person the monkey King is intimidated by.

I blame the Lego monkie kid voice actor 😅

OH MY GOD!!! THAT IS BOTH AMAZING AND TERRIFYING I LOVE IT!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

That's the weapon you have Below👇👇👇

(Lmk Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he pisses you off every second of everything day, and it's scares him hell even Macaque is scared of you. It's bad enough that he tends to be irresponsible and Take everything even more difficult with his poor communication skills. Then if it were to cause problems for poor Mk, then that's where you draw the line, and with every life threatening event that is centered around your husband and son. Well both Mk and Wukong Would be actively running from you by the end of it🤣

(MKR Wukong) Man he would take the monk's anger over your anger any time That's how scared he is of you. You know his sh*tty attitude and personality and his habit of having bouts of violence but you. Oh no he would do whatever it takes to stay away from that territory of upsetting you, but if it happens anyway he would get his act together immediately. The pilgrims always gets baffled by his submission and Fruity would say that mama is scary.

(HIB Wukong) Well now at least he knows the Do's and don't's parts of your marriage, considering the results and Consequences. But unfortunately he has to come back home to you after 500 years and he'll have to make up an explanation for his absence. Even worse when you told him time and time again not to go and attack heaven On the count of that is not the best idea to handle the war. Wukong had stupidly disregarded your words and now he has to come home to you, he was right to be worried because you tore him a new one because he Deliberately Disregarded your objections as your environment shook and crack from your yells. the only reason you stop was because he came home with a little boy and baby girl.

(NR Wukong) Li and Su had dumbfounded looks on both of their faces. In the living room was Wukong cowering behind the couch as a female monkey also with a metal mask was screaming profanities at him. The was the day they met you Y/n L/N Wukong his wife, but boi were you quite Intimidating to them. Thankfully they quickly learn how sweet and kind you actually are and the two even fell in love with your godly cooking. You quickly explained that Wukong had fail to tell you that Nezha was recarnated as you stuff Li with food because That's where you always did 3000 years ago.

(Netflix Wukong) Man you used were so little, quiet and cute🥰 when you a cub now your tall, loud, and scary😨 and married to him. You are the more responsible and grounded of the marriage but his reckless behavior makes you both worried and angry. You usually wack him with stick because of his condescending attitude and he should know not to talk to you like that. Then the last straw was when he got to his head in his kaiju form and Lin had to get you and well.....you can imagine how shocking it is to see a giant male monkey to wimper as a tiny female monkey yells at him.🤭🤭🤭

(BMW Wukong) GOLLY!!! you were always the wrong one to mess with 😰. For him pissing off heaven will always be less terrifying than pissing you off😬. Especially when your as powerful as he is, and would have that large club bat you dubbed as Excaliborg That you would occasionally beat his ass with. Unlike Erlang whom he's more then happy to taunt and mess with he knows better then to do the same to you unless he wants to be an must be classified smeer on the ground😬🥶.

(Destined one) He wouldn't get on your nerves in the slightest, mainly because that's a terrible idea but he's a sweet mildly Obedient man to you. You get worried about him alot because he's so selectively mute, so you made sure to engage him in conversations. The one thing you do love is how much he loves your cooking 🍳 and you are more then happy to make large batches for him to eat. He's a good Quiet husband to you and that's good enough for you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😈🍳

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #Chichi #dragon ball #scary reader #Scary wife Privileges

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 5 | Tate Langdon x Reader

Kinktober day 5: semi-public sex

Warnings: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’It’s the third time we go. I get that you love Halloween, but aren’t you tired of people jumping before you and screaming to scare you?’’

‘’I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to come.’’

Dani eyed your outfit, then hummed disapprovingly. ‘’Dressed like that? Terrible idea.’’

‘’There’s a lot of people and it’s dark. It’s the perfect place for creepy men to prey on women who are alone. Especially if they are wearing a skirt,’’ Penelope added, being on Dani’s side.

‘’I can defend myself,’’ you said, not worried at all.

‘’We’re all going.’’

While you loved Halloween, you didn’t tell your friend the real reason you wanted to go to Horror Nights again. They would tease you to no ends if they knew it was to see the cute boy you had spotted on opening weekend. He was one of the scare actors in the haunted maze attraction. He had crawled over to you to scare you, but your eyes found his and time stopped for a few seconds. His face was caked with a skull makeup, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The line for tickets was long, as always. It’s Saturday night, what were you expecting? After what felt like an eternity, you finally made it inside. The first attraction didn't really send shivers down your spine, but Penelope got scared by a clown and almost fell on her ass, making the three of you laugh so much your stomachs hurt.

When you — finally — got to the haunted maze, you searched for him in every corner. But he was nowhere in sight. You saw a boy in a skull makeup, but it wasn’t him. His hair was bright green, not blond.

The last attraction was the penitentiary, which turned out to be terrifying. The people in the cells were chained and acting insanely, some were getting lobotomies or just screaming and running. The lights were flickering, adding to the spooky ambiance.

You were almost out of the attraction when a group of energetic kids bumped into you and your friends, separating you from them. ‘’Dani! Penelope!’’ you called out, but your voice got lost in the chaos. ‘’Dani—’’

Your words got cut off by a gasp when a tall figure in a black rubber suit appeared before you. Panic set in, and before you could scream, his hand clamped over your mouth, and he pushed you back against a wall. Actors were not supposed to touch the visitors. You struggled, trying to break free, but he was much stronger than you.

An amused chuckle came from underneath the mask, then the person revealed themself.

Through the flickering lights, you caught his eyes, the ones you had been looking for all night.

The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. ‘’I scared you.’’

You shoved his shoulder, trying to appear mad. ‘’Can you blame me? I’m a woman. Placed like this are a perfect setting for a murder or worse, rape.’’

Immediately, the blond felt bad. ‘’I didn’t think about that… Shit. I’m sorry,’’ he apologized, his deep brown eyes softly looking at you. ‘’When I saw you in the penitentiary, I just knew I needed to take my chance and talk to you. ’’

A smile fought on your lips. ‘’Is this how you flirt with girls? By scaring the living hell out of them?’’

He shook his head. ‘’I’m not much of a flirt,’’ he explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

Another group of running kids came by, screaming and fleeing something they had just seen, making you think that you should get back to your friends. They must be searching for you and flooding your phone with worried texts.

But you didn’t want to.

‘’I-I’m Tate, by the way.’’

You gave him your name, then pulled him down for a kiss as the lights went out. Tate kissed you back, his hands pulling your body close to his as he gently pulled your lower lip with his teeth. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft, involuntary moan into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, ignoring the drilling sound of the lobotomy tool and screamings nearby.

When you paid for your entry ticket a few hours ago, you didn’t think you would end the night with the stranger in the skull makeup’s tongue in your mouth. But here you were, making out together in the middle of an attraction.

‘’Come with me.’’ Tate took your hand and led you away from the main way of the penitentiary.

You didn’t know where you were going, but you held on tight to his hand as he led you into the darkness. He’s been working here since opening night, he must know his way through the attraction.

Tate pulled one of the black curtains that opened the backstage area of the penitentiary where extra props, electricity chords and other stuff were hidden.

‘’Is this where you’re planning to kill me and hide my body?’’ you joked, trusting him enough to make this kind of joke.

He shook his head and pinned you against the wall, his latex covered chest pressing against you and moved his mouth to your ear. ‘’No,’’ he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. ‘’This is where I plan to make you cum.’’

No man had ever left you speechless until tonight, but you were too stunned to speak. You never expected such explicit words to come from his mouth. Not with sweet innocent eyes like his.

Tate’s hand followed the path down the curves of your body, slow and teasing as arousal started to pool between your legs. He stopped at the hem of your skirt, pleased at your clothing choice for the night. It'll be less of a fuss to access where he wanted.

‘’Tate,’’ you gasped at the first graze of his fingers.

He must be able to feel your wetness through the lace. He pressed the wet heat of your cunt into his hand, tearing a moan from you.

You would be embarrassed to be so wet already, but all that was on your mind was Tate's fingers rubbing against your folds through the thin fabric. His mouth had descended down your neck and jawline, gently kissing as he listened to the soft pleased sounds escaping your lips.

Screams and laughter came from the other side of the thin wall, drowning the sounds of your activities. If Tate’s boss knew what you were doing, he would get fired on the spot.

Tate pushed your panties to the side, and then slid between your folds. ‘’I’ve been thinking about you — about doing this to you — since I saw you in the maze.’’

Your head fell back against the wall, images of that night, of him crawling across the maze to scare you flashed in your head as he teased your most sensitive flesh. It felt like a fucking dream, except you weren’t sleeping.

‘’Thought you looked pretty that night, but I bet you’re looking even prettier right now,’’ Tate said, wishing he could see you in better lighting.

He lightly brushed your clit, then briefly dipped into your entrance before pulling away.

‘’Please,’’ you begged, pushing your hips where you knew his hand was, and finally two of his thick fingers thrusted into your folds.

Your inner muscles clenched around him, making Tate wish he wasn’t wearing that stupid latex suit so he could feel you clench around his cock. Instead, he’ll have to settle for this — getting you off.

‘’When we get out of here, don’t think we’re done,’’ he said, moving his fingers in and out of you while his other hand came around your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes. ‘’The night is just getting started.’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark

#tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #kinktober

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nerd-fandom-drabbles · 1 month ago

Text

A Special Kind of Stupid pt. 2

Description: Bellara vibe-checks Lucanis while they prepare the evening meal. Part 2 to this piece.

842 words

Characters: Lucanis, Bellara, and Spite

Pairings: Lucanis x femme Rook looms heavily but is unseen

Genre: Friendship <333333

Content warnings: Pining, cuteness, fluff

WARNING: This may contain some very, very light spoilers for Veilguard pre-release gameplay footage.

As usual, this was written before the game's release.

That evening, Lucanis had cleaned up quickly in preparation for another long supper preparation session with Bellara. They stood in the dimming light of the sunset-stained kitchen surrounded by cold baskets of shrimp, oysters, and fish; laughing and recounting the day's battles.

After a few minutes of chopping fish and deveining shrimp for the evening dish - a seafood paella - Bellara started shifting awkwardly. They had spent enough time together by now for Lucanis to know there was something on her mind, but he didn't pry. He figured she'd get to it when she was ready.

“So. A little birdie told me you've been flirting with Rook.”

He nearly chopped off his fingertip, “Ah!” Dammit, Neve.

“Don't freak out! I just wanted to ask... about your intentions,” Bellara's tone was kind but her eyes were piercing, “She's under a lot of pressure, and there's a lot going on. So.”

“You're worried I'll hurt her.”

“Obviously, you'll hurt her,” Spite chimed in nonchalantly, “Or get her killed.”

“I just don't know what kind of man you are... romantically. You're a great friend,” Bellara started, “But, some guys are great as friends and terrible as lovers, you know?”

“Yes, I'm aware." His cousin's many questionable dalliances came to mind immediately. He shook his head to clear it of the past, “My interest in her is genuine.”

“What do you like about her?” She stopped her chopping, watching him closely.

He thought for a few moments, and then sighed deeply, “Everything.”

“Wow. That's heavy.”

“I tend to be intense about these things.”

“No kidding?” She cocked her head and smiled, “I guess I can see that. You're reserved. Intentional.”

Have to be with a demon in your head, he thought.

But the truth was that even before Spite complicated his life, he had been the same way. Always nursing some painful, tortured little crush. He never acted on them. He wouldn't have dreamt of it. And even if he had, he was certain that they wouldn't have reciprocated. The notion was almost absurd. He was a weapon. And weapons didn't take lovers.

Still, he wanted to tell her more. About how terrified he had been when he first noticed he was developing feelings for Rook. The endless nights he'd spent pining or trying to distract himself from pining, only to then be tormented by Spite about the pining. The eventual, slow acceptance of his feelings. Or the fact that, even now, he had no idea what he was doing or why it was that Rook seemed to reciprocate... despite everything.

Rook was a distraction and a curse, but of the very best kind. And the truth was that though he fought desperately to keep his feet on the ground, his heart had threatened other plans.

There were truly so, so many things he wanted to tell his friend about how he felt, but he couldn't find the right words. Nor the courage.

“Are you going to tell her what I've told you?” He asked, after a moment.

“Oh no! I would never interfere. And I'm not, like, compiling a dossier. Just looking out for two of my favorite people.”

“Aw.”

“Disgusting,” Spite snarled.

“Can I hug you?” Bellara asked suddenly, placing down her knife.

He looked down at his bloodied apron, “I'm going to get fish guts all over you.”

“He says, as if I'm not already covered in fish guts,” she raised an eyebrow.

He let out a little chuckle and set down his knife. Once he did, she basically threw herself at him, enveloping him in a huge, warm hug. It was an unusual display of affection for him. He could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd been on the receiving end of a hug from a friend.

“You're alright, Crow,” she murmured into his chest. After a few moments she pulled away, giving him a little tap on the shoulder. “Just take care of our girl, okay?”

He nodded warmly and she turned her attention back to her chopping board.

Lucanis was no stranger to the camaraderie that emerged between Crows. Relying on others to have your back in battle or to provide good intelligence by necessity resulted in a form of closeness. But there was something sweet, gentle, and intimate about his new friendships within the Veilguard. They were different types of people, he supposed. Ones that tended to be emotionally open in a way that made him comfortable expressing and doing things that he wouldn't normally. And in exchange, he found himself feeling full and satisfied in a way he didn't usually feel.

His warm feelings were accompanied by a rush of protectiveness. If anything were to happen to any of these people, he would run rampant and wash the streets red with blood.

“So, what are you going to name your kids? I'm thinking...”

He threw his head back and groaned, as Bellara burst into a powerful bout of laughter.

“Kidding. Kidding,” she giggled, “I'd be a great auntie though, and you know it.”

#dragon age fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #fanfic #fanfiction #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #veilguard fanfic #bellara lutare #bellara and lucanis are bffs and you can't convince me otherwise #friends that cook together stay together

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year ago

Text

Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven

A03

"No come back here and hug me dammit!"

"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.

Tiff just shook her head.

"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.

Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.

"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"

Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.

He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.

Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.

"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.

Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.

"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."

"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.

"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.

"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"

"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"

'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.

"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.

Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.

"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.

Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."

Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"

"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.

It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."

Steve looked over at him and winked.

"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"

Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.

Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)

Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.

If one pitched it right.

"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You have the power."

"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."

Gareth ignore him.

"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?" He asked, playfully.

He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."

"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."

That got an interesting reaction.

"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.

A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.

"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."

He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.

"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.

"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."

No ulterior motives here, no sir!

"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."

"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.

"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"

"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."

"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.

"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"

"Not even close." Steve told him.

Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.

"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."

Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.

Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"

In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.

(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.

But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)

For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.

Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.

Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.

"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.

"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.

"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."

"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."

"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.

It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.

Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.

xXx

Steve backslid the next morning.

Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.

He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.

He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.

Most damning?

He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.

Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.

(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”

Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)

Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.

Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.

A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.

Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.

Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.

This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)

Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.

"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.

"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."

Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.

"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."

"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.

Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.

They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.

"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."

"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.

Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.

Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.

Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.

The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.

Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.

Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.

'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.

This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.

"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.

"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.

"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."

"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.

There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.

"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.

"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.

He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.

"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.

The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.

'Got you.'

"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"

"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."

A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”

A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.

"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"

"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.

"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.

"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."

"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."

"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.

Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."

Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.

It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."

It was the perfectness of it.

How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.

A sort of--trophy house.

He went on to tell his best friend this.

"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.

They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.

If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.

Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.

To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.

The noise came again, this time a little louder.

Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.

Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.

Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.

"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"

He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.

Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.

"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.

"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."

Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.

Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.

(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)

“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."

"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."

Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."

“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.

Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.

“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.

Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."

"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.

It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.

The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)

Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.

The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.

"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.

Perhaps it did.

Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"

"Florida this time and no."

Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.

"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."

Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.

Steve had never shied from hard work.

Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.

The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.

There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.

Or perhaps, not just a summer job.

"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”

"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.

Ah-ha.

"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."

Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.

No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.

"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.

"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."

Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.

Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.

Eddie’s head tilted the other way.

"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.

He got a shrug in response.

Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.

Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.

"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."

Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.

It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.

"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”

Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.

"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.

"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.

Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.

"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."

Oh.

Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.

A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.

"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.

"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.

Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."

"I--what?"

"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."

"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.

The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.

"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.

Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.

“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”

Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”

"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”

“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.

“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”

Steve frowned.

“My parents don’t see it like that.”

“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”

That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.

Which is right about when the phone rang.

They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.

It was well past midnight.

"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.

His friend just shrugged, before picking up.

"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.

Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.

"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."

"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.

It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.

"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.

Then; "Why?"

"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."

“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?

On a school night?

"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.

Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.

"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.

"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.

"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.

Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.

475 notes · View notes

flowerbetweenfangs · 7 months ago

Text

Cream Filling: Chapter Two

Warning: abusive ex partner/stalking

(Abusive ex appears and scares the mc, but nothing happens)

This is part two of a series. You can find part one here!

Elle felt a sense of relief wash over her when she turned the sign to closed. Once she locked the doors, she picked up a broom and began to sweep. Humming softly, she paused when a shadow loomed over her. Turning, she looked up at the face of her coworker.

Wrecks drummed his fingers together, his face pensive.

“Hey.” She set the broom against the wall as Horac came through with a pile of dishes, grunting and snorting with the effort.

“Shepard.” He began.

“Please, call me Elle.” She interrupted, feeling her cheeks flushed at the last name. It was better than Elodie, but only just barely. They’d been working together for nearly four weeks, and he still acted so formally.

Then again, she had terrified him the first day.

“Elle…” Wrecks drew out the syllable as if the single sound baffled him, before scowling. Clearing his throat, Wrecks removed his spectacles and wiped them off.

“I have a favor to ask. And I’m terribly sorry to put you on the spot.” He patted at his pockets, before producing a carton of cigarettes.

“I need a smoke. Join me?”

They exited through the kitchen, with Wrecks lighting up. He offered the pack to Elle, but she shook her head.

“I’m not sure how up-to-date you are on Drider culture.” Wrecks began, taking a long drag. Silvery green smoke floated up toward the sky in thin tendrils. Whatever was in the cigarettes wasn’t tobacco or cannabis.

Elle shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t want to be rude and badger you on the job about it.” The scent of the smoke made her nose itch. Earthy, with a strange dankness.

“Well.” He sighed. “Normally I don’t ask anyone this, but I’m in a tight spot.” Another drag. “The Festival of Arachne is coming up, so a lot of Driders are going to be swarming this part of town.”

“Need a date?” Elle asked, before chuckling at his flustered expression.

“No.” He said sharply, dragging out the vowel and making a slicing motion through the air. The smoke danced at the reaction.

“Quite the opposite. I need to be far, far away from all of it.” He sighed. “I still have to work, since we’re shorthanded, but…”

Inhaling sharply, he pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his spectacles up to his forehead. “I called around. I can’t stay in a human hotel without paying an exorbitant fee. And all the local ones are going to be filled to the brim with attendees.” Swallowing, he stubbed out the cigarette and stuck it in the breast pocket of his vest.

“Can I stay at your place the week the festival is being held here?” He clasped his hands together. “I’m not saying I’ll be by myself while you’re at work. I’ll still come with you to the morning shift, but I want to… Minimize my exposure.”

“Horac has his kids, and they’re terrified of me. Ram has his own place, but it’s too close to… All this. Night shift is going to be busy…”

“Wrecks…” Elle bit her lip, “I live in a studio apartment, in the Leviathan district.” She felt her cheeks burning. “We’ll be in close quarters.”

“I will pay half your month’s rent.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his wallet. “And I’ll buy groceries and pay for anything I use.”

The one thing she couldn’t refuse. Money.

Wrecks’ cheeks flushed, his pleading expression making it hard to say no.

“You can’t smoke inside. Landlord’s rules.” She was trying to figure out how to fit him in her car when Horac bellowed for them to come back inside.

“It’s bad enough when Spinner is rushing out for a smoke every hour.” The Boarman chastised when they came back in. “Don’t you slip into the habit, too.”

Elle sighed, rolling her eyes and picking up a rag. He was right, but it still made her nervous to even fathom losing the job. She was going to make up for it by cleaning so well, they’d see reflections on every surface.

***

Wrecks was silent on the drive back. His suitcase fit in the front seat, and he took up the entire back. His legs pushed the button to roll the window up and down. The breeze stirred Elle’s hair, making a few strands tickle the back of her neck. She kept her eyes on the road, but the sound was starting to get on her nerves.

“You’re going to break it.” She warned him. “I’ve got the AC on, why do you keep messing with the window?”

“Sorry.” He rolled the window up. “I’ve never been in a car before.”

The statement baffled Elle so much she nearly pulled over to look at him. But traffic was too good to slow down.

“How do you get around?”

“I generally walk. Or swing.” He cleared his throat. “Webbing has many uses. I used to have a bridge from my place to the restaurant until some kids burnt it.”

“Hopefully not while you were on it.” Elle frowned.

“Arachne, no!” He shook his head. “Caused some damage to a local shop. The poor owner had to shut down for two weeks. Ramses paid for it all.” Sighing, he set an elbow on the armrest, rolling down the window. Eyes wide, he quickly rolled it back up.

“Because he takes good care of his employees?” Elle asked, half laughing at the quote, before images of her first day flashed through her mind. Focusing on the road, she tried to ignore the tingling between her legs.

Wrecks stifled his own laugh. “Yeah.” He looked around. “Can I smoke in the car?”

“...Let me pull over.”

“I can wait!” He insisted.

When she pulled into the complex, the parking lot was mostly empty. Good. The fewer questions she’d have to answer, the better.

Wrecks fell out of the back seat, unable to get proper footing in all six of his legs. After righting himself, he went to grab his suitcase.

“I’m impressed you can afford this on your pay.” He remarked, looking at the entire building. "The things I heard about this side of the district made me think it was a shantytown."

Elle shook her head. “I wish.” She pointed at the top floor. “I live in one unit.”

Locking her car, she began to head for the stairs. Wrecks hadn’t moved from his spot, still taking it in, a look of awe on his face.

“What kind of place do you live in?” She grabbed his arm and tugged gently. The contact broke him out of the trance, and he began to follow her.

“There’s a nice area not too far from work, right on the border between the Mammon and Satan District.” Wrecks explained. “A little swampy, but secluded.” He sighed. “But around this time of year, it’s unbearable.” Pulling his glasses off, he rubbed his brow.

“Like a…” He frowned, trying to find the appropriate comparison. “...Let’s just say I wouldn’t be getting much sleep.”

When they arrived at the door, Elle hesitated. She hadn’t brought anyone home since she’d moved in. Even with her frenzied cleaning, she hadn’t unpacked half her belongings. This place was barely lived in.

“Do you… Not want me to come in?” Wrecks’ grip tightened on the handle of his suitcase.

“It’s a little messy.” She admitted.

“I’ve seen a nest after a clutch has been born.” Wrecks assured her. “It can’t be that bad.”

As the door creaked open, Elle flicked on the lights, making sure to kick off her shoes. Holding her purse close, she sidestepped to let Wrecks inside the available space in the living room.

The apartment was cramped, with her mattress taking up a third of the available space. At least she’d made the bed before leaving. There was a coffee table next to the bed, her laptop open and switched off resting on it. Bookshelves covered the walls, filled with her favorite texts and various magazines. Boxes filled most of the free space on the floor, with a small line to get to the kitchen, bed, one corner, and bathroom.

She went to the corner, kneeling next to a small table. Lighting the half-melted candle, Elle counted her tips for the day and placed them in an envelope.

Once she’d pressed a rune into the wax, sealing it, she set the papers aflame. Before the fire reached her fingers, it flickered away, leaving her hands closing on empty air.

“I thought you weren’t a mage.” Wrecks was behind her, staring at the table, head cocked to the side.

“I’m not.” Elle cupped the flame and blew it out, the scent of magic in the air. “I just use it to pay bills and send letters.”

Wrecks pointedly looked at her laptop, raising a brow.

“When I don’t want them to trace it or bother me.” Elle crawled under his legs, standing once she was behind him. “You know how it is.”

Going to the bathroom, she undid her buns and started to wipe off her makeup. The thought of dressing in the bathroom for the next week made her nearly groan in annoyance. But at least she’d have money. Even if it was only a little.

When she came out, Wrecks was picking up various things from the floor and placing them on the coffee table and bed. Her clothes, powerstrips, he’d even gone to the kitchen and seized her empty cups and plates she hadn’t washed.

“What… Are you doing?”

He froze, slowly turning and picking a glass he’d just set down back up. “Sorry.” He looked around at the boxes scattered around the apartment, fingers twitching.

Sucking in a breath, Elle looked around. “Is it going to bother you if my apartment looks like this?” It was an excuse to finally unpack… It had been a month.

“You see…” Wrecks collected the cups and took them back to the kitchen. “A Drider will make their home kind of a… A nest? Since this place is so small.” He winced apologetically. “I just started…”

“It’s okay.” Elle found herself smiling and giggling. “It’s actually kind of adorable.” She took a box and set it on her bed. “Help me unpack then?”

There wasn’t actually much to organize once it was actually done. There was more clean-up than actual unpacking done.

Breaking down boxes, hanging up and folding clothes, washing dishes seemed to ease the anxiety Wrecks was feeling. He was running the vacuum when she went to the kitchen and pulled out leftovers for dinner. As the container spun in the microwave, she realized.

“Can you eat human food?” She knew there was a Monster Market down the street, but they closed before sundown.

“Hm?” Wrecks put the vacuum cleaner next to a bookshelf.

She pulled out the container when it was finished. “I wasn’t expecting a guest. I’m not sure what you all eat. We can go shopping tomorrow.” He had offered to buy groceries, after all.

“Hm…” The kitchen became more cramped as Wrecks looked in the fridge. She once again found herself crawling under his legs to escape.

Pulling out a package of defrosting meat, he sniffed it. “I think I can have this?” Holding it up, he stared at a few stray drops of blood trickling down his fingers.

“...Sure.” Elle went to her laptop and shoveled down leftover rice and beans, doing her best to ignore the chewing sounds coming from the kitchen. Should she have gotten him a plate and utensils to eat with?

Booting up her laptop, Elle suddenly remembered what she’d been watching before going to sleep. Her headphones rattled with the moans of a woman. They were plugged in, and she hoped Wrecks’ hearing wasn’t better than a human’s.

A video of a woman moaning, bent over an altar, as a goat-headed man pounded her from behind flashed across the screen. Elle scrambled, managing to exit from the video in record time. Reopening her browser, she loaded up a TV show.

Hovering back, Wrecks squinted at the screen. Elle patted the spot on the bed next to her. Slowly, he approached and prodded at the mattress with his front legs, before settling down awkwardly, tucking limbs under himself.

Raw meat clung to his hands and he continued to eat, lapping at the blood on his fingers, trying to be quiet about it. He seemed transfixed by the show, his eyes wide and focused the entire time. Elle wondered if he had internet at his place.

Wrecks washed the dishes again once the episode was over. Elle realized he was still in his uniform.

“Erm, do you want to change into something more comfortable?”

Wrecks looked down at his vest.

“I suppose.” He cleared his throat, before rifling through his suitcase and then taking his new attire into the bathroom. Elle focused on the screen as she heard rustling and rattling, followed by noises of discomfort.

“You alright in there?” She called.

“Tiny…. Space!” He yelped, followed by a loud thud, and a metallic bang. “Ow!”

Elle rushed into the bathroom, seeing Wrecks in the tub, the shower curtain wrapped around him, and the rod across his midsection. His legs twitched, running on the air and attempting to find solid ground.

With a sigh, Elle offered her hand. He took it and she pulled him up, a task she didn’t think possible, then helped him out into the living room. Sighing, Wrecks unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off.

Turning her head, Elle gave him privacy but caught the Drider’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. His upper body was bony, void of any muscle, with a strange spider tattoo across his chest, his veins dark and resembling a web for it to sit on.

He caught her looking, and sighed.

“It’s Arachne’s mark.” He placed a hand on it. “I wanted to get it removed, but it turns out that isn’t an easy fix.”

“Wait, I thought Arachne was the goddess or something?” Wrecks never stuck her as religious.

“She is. But she still has followers in the material realm.” He pulled a t-shirt over his head, then let undid his braid. His hair fell down around his shoulders in a shaggy white mane.

Her mind went to when she’d ingested the Admodues fruit, and how she’d tried to kiss him. How he’d shoved her back and tied her up, afraid. The thought cooled her off, and she gave him room to sit.

At nine, she found herself nodding off. Wrecks was dozing himself, sharply inhaling when his head lulled.

“I’ve got some extra blankets if you get cold,” Elle explained as she began to pile pillows on the floor. “As you… Saw.”

Wrecks watched her curiously. “I don’t need them, but thank you. Why are you nesting on the floor?”

“Because you’re the guest. So you get the bed.” She resisted the urge to suggest they share.

Reaching down, Wrecks poked the mattress with his smaller foreleg again.

“I don’t think I’ll be comfortable.” Tilting his head back, he looked at the ceiling. Raising his human arm, he knocked on the wall, placing his ear to it. Nodding to himself, he cleared his throat.

“Can I make myself my own bedding?”

“Um… Sure?”

Elle watched as he used his webbing to create himself a hammock-like structure just below the ceiling, right above a bookshelf. Hopefully, it would hold, but his movements were practiced and confident, so she didn’t ask.

Crawling back onto the mattress, Elle cocooned herself and settled down for the night. Her alarm would go off in a few hours. Hopefully, Wrecks wasn’t a grump in the morning.

***

The candle lit. Elle jerked awake and saw the table in the corner glowing with the light of the fire. After a few heartbeats, the flame went from orange to pink. Arching a brow, Elle debated going over and blowing it out. Maybe someone had tried to communicate with a local mage and wires got crossed?

Slipping off the bed, Elle went to the table and knelt.

Her blood ran cold at the sight of the figure in the flame. In the magenta glow of the fire, stood a demon. Even though it was obscured by a pink tint, Elle knew it too well.

Wavy brown hair framed his face, two flesh-colored horns growing from his brow. His eyes were purple, with black sclera. He grit his teeth, showing fangs that she certainly remembered.

He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, with purple runes and symbols twisting up his bare arms. His hand paused, tracing a pattern in the air, his nails seeming to retract as he lowered his fist.

“Elodie.” He crooned, the name twisting around her with Power. “Let me in, babe.” He leaned against something on his side, eyes coming close to whatever he was using to scry. “I know you’re right there.”

He pulled back, his hand hovering in the air, offering Elle to take it. She stared at it, seeing the pink fall away, the flesh taking on a peachy color. Despite knowing she shouldn’t, she reached for it.

Then, Elle had her mind back. Blinking, she scraped her nails against the wall as her hands became fists. She started to stand, but the flame grew brighter, lighting up the room better than any bulb could.

He was manifesting, his scent overpowering her. Breathing caught in her throat. It was like the berries all over again, the way her body was reacting. No. She had to stay focused.

“What do you want?” Fear and anger warred in her chest. How could he have found her? No one was supposed to know about her current residence. The table was supposed to cloak her location from any scryers unless she gave permission.

“Aw. I wanted to see you.” He reached for her, but his hands shook. Small waves of Power rose from the floor.

A threshold had finally formed… Not enough to keep him from coming through, but he would lose a lot of his power or injure himself to push past it. She thought about rushing back and grabbing her charm, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“I see you’ve gotten comfortable.” Anger started to creep into his voice.

Elle took a step forward, about to smother the candle. She reached for the tool on the table.

“Fuck off, Adrian.”

She went to snuff it, but he reached through the threshold and put a hand on the douter. His skin blistered and twisted, the runes glowing with heat. Lip twitching, he took another step toward her, the veins in his face contorting.

Then, his eyes widened.

“A fucking Drider?” Clenching his jaw, he released the door, reaching for the front of Elle’s shirt. “What, you can’t take a dick anymore? So you have to have someone who doesn’t-”

A hand shot over Elle’s shoulder and seized Adrian by the wrist. Pink power twisted around, and she saw it glowing brightly against grey skin.

“Raise your hand like that again, and I’ll throw you into the Underdark.” Wreck’s voice was raspy with sleep. Elle hadn’t even heard him get out of bed.

Adrian yanked his hand back, teeth bared.

“Careful who you threaten, Drider.” Rolling his shoulders, Adrian slammed his hand against the barrier.

“You know he’s never going to give you what I did!” He hit the barrier again, his hands twisting to claws.

Blood and sparks showered Elle, and she raised her hands to shield herself. A hand grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled. She screamed, starting to thrash as she heard the flame snuff out.

“Shepard!” Wrecks shook her. “It’s me. Keep your mouth closed.” He produced a rag and wiped her face. “Demon blood is toxic. If you swallow it…”

Elle’s teeth chattered and she shivered. Wrecks cleaned her face, his expression solemn.

Putting hands to her face, Elle doubled over and took in deep breaths.

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.” She said, with more anger than she intended. Swallowing, she straightened and staggered to the mattress, plopping on it. Wrecks picked up his spectacles and put them on, coming over with the rag and offering it.

She shook her head, putting a hand to her cheek. It was sensitive, probably burned from the blood.

“Can you get my work uniform?”

“You’re going to work after that?” Wrecks asked in disbelief.

“We’re shorthanded. And if I don’t go, neither do you.” She felt the urge to run, to grab her important papers and flee once the sun came up.

No… This was her place. She wasn’t going to give it up. All she wanted to do was scream, her eyes going to the corner table. Some cloaking spell.

Fabric brushed against her arm. Looking up, she saw Wrecks with her uniform folded over his forelegs. He’d thrown on his button-up shirt but had left it undone.

“Are you okay?” She took the uniform and held it to her chest.

“I just…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I thought he was going to hit you. It was hard to tell because…” He waved a hand in front of his glasses. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you want me to call Ramses?”

The name made her stomach drop. “No. Leave him out of this.”

She went to the bathroom, staring at the red splattering on her cheek. Touching it, she winced. It was like a wicked sunburn. At least she could take a petty comfort in the fact that Adrian hurt himself enough to bleed trying to get through.

Prodding it a little more, she shook her head. It would sting, but if she didn’t cover it up, there was no doubt in her mind word would get back to Ramses. As Elle dressed, she tried to psych herself up.

Work was good. It was money. And once the last bits of her debts were paid off, she could save up to sever this tie once and for all.

Her reflection was blurry as she applied foundation. Face stinging, she sniffed and shook her head. She could cover it up all she wanted, but the pain would always be a reminder. Even if he never got physical, Adrian could still find ways to hurt her.

Once she decided her face was presentable, she exited the bathroom and the apartment, locking the door and deadbolt. On her way to her car, she tossed the candle in the garbage after breaking it into thirteen pieces, as she’d been instructed to. It neutralized the spells it could cast. Saving for a new one…

Wrecks paused to smoke, but his eyes scanned the parking lot. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. He’d been trying to stay out of trouble, and she’d drug him into the middle of it.

The drive was silent. Elle stared at the road, Wrecks sprawled in the backseat, rubbing his forelegs together in what looked like a self-soothing gesture. The window was cracked, the morning breeze rolling over them both.

“So, who was he?” Wrecks prodded.

“An incubus I summoned when I was young and dumb.” Elle sighed. “I didn’t read the fine print.” She shuddered at the memory. “I’d rather not go into intimate details.”

“Could have stopped at ‘incubus’.” Wrecks laced his fingers together, resting them on his stomach. “He called you ‘Elodie’.” The Power crackled in the air.

“And he said you didn’t have a dick. Both things we didn’t…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Wrecks shrugged. “He’s right you know, and-”

“Don’t.” She warned, before sighing in relief as they approached the restaurant. Horac was there, talking on the phone and rubbing his face.

“Behave for Mama, alright?” He quickly hung up, giving them a two-finger wave.

“Morning.” He grunted, before watching with fascination as Wrecks attempted to get out of the car. “You alright, Elle?”

“Rough morning.” Elle went to Wrecks and pulled, freeing him from the vehicle. He stumbled, before righting himself and smoothing his shirt.

“Uptick in tourists.” Horac pulled the front door open. “Expect a busy day.”

He fixed a human-friendly coffee for Elle (they were to keep at least one edible meal for her in the restaurant at all times, and to inspect every ingredient that came through) and the sludgy liquid for themselves.

The coffee helped wake Elle up and stave off the anxiety. She still felt jittery. But the feeling of something about to snatch her away started to dissipate.

Horac eyed the two of them, before sighing.

“Look, did something happen?”

Wrecks looked at Elle, eyes urging her to speak.

Sighing, Elle looked at her mug. The man had kids. He knew when things were off.

“My ex showed up this morning. Things got a little heated, but he left.” She looked to Wrecks. “It’s nothing you need to go to Ramses about.”

“Did you call the human authorities?” Horac crossed his large arms. “Or the Guardians? The Church?”

Elle sucked in air through her teeth. “It’s more complicated than that.” She rubbed her face. “But he’s a coward. He won’t come after me during the day.” Like all Demons, he was weak to the sun. He’d puff out his chest at someone, but physical fighting was beneath him. And if he saw Horac, he’d never come near her.

Horac sighed, nodding.

“Let’s open up. It’s almost five.”

***

Elle hadn’t seen so many Driders in her life. They chatted as she wove through tables. Occasionally, one would do a double-take at the human serving their pastry or coffee. She craned her neck, trying to see if any had the same marking as Wrecks.

“So, it is true.” One whispered as Elle scurried by with a tray of dirty dishes. “He does have a human working for him.”

“Do you think that means the rumors about the intact male working here are true?”

The phrase made Elle go stiff for a moment, having to mentally tell herself what to do rather than rely on muscle memory. The phrasing was so odd it gave her pause. Suppressing a snort, she ducked in the kitchen and noticed Wreck was further back than normal. He was intentionally staying away from the window.

And he hadn’t gone out for a smoke since they’d opened.

There was no way… Elle found her head tilting, but shook herself when she realized the implications.

The breakfast rush ended, with Wrecks throwing himself out the backdoor for a smoke. Elle picked up her phone and saw it had been blown up with calls and texts from an unknown number. Sighing, she blocked it and wondered if it was time for a new one.

It would be a shame she couldn’t even celebrate the bonus and extra tips all the customers were passing over.

“I swear their numbers get bigger every year,” Horac commented, breaking her daze. “I’ve heard rumors they’re going to move the festival to the Beezelbub district next year.” He looked at the freezer. “We’re about cleared out.”

“The truck’s going to be here tomorrow,” Elle assured him. “And worst case, I can run to-”

There was a loud thud as something hit the side of the building. The two shared a look of confusion before Elle headed out the front door. As she rounded the building, she saw a bunch of webbing all over the ground and side of the building.

“-think I can’t smell you?” A voice broke through the air. “What the fuck, Wrecks? Why are you hiding out here?”

“Calamity,” Wrecks whined in response. “You’re hurting me.”

Peeking around the corner, Elle saw a female Drider pinning Wrecks against the wall, her human arms holding his wrists above his head. Webbing and threads tangled his legs, so getting away would be impossible.

Wrecks caught her eye, and he shot back a piteous look. The universal expression of “help me.”

“You’ve got a duty to your people and Arachne.” Calamity argued. “And you’re wasting it playing chef for a demon?”

“Excuse me.” Elle approached slowly, her cheek burning.

Calamity whipped around, front legs flexing. Glittery black eyes stared down at Elle. There was no question she was beautiful, human or Drider. Her features were sharp, each eye glittering like onyx in the sun. Long hair fell around her hips, accentuating her tasteful blouse and scarf. Even her fingers were well-manicured, rings sparkling on each one. It made Elle suck in a breath.

“Fuck off, human.” She sniffed. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Elle walked closer, not breaking eye contact. Her legs threatened to give out.

“You’re hurting Wrecks.” Elle struggled to keep her voice steady. “Leave him alone.”

Calamity snorted, brushing a curtain of black hair from her eyes. She was a lot taller than Wrecks, and towered over Elle. If she whipped her legs, it would send Elle flying.

“You think because you have a Demon Prince for a boss that means you can order Underworlders around? Because you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“A what now?” Elle’s shock must have shown, barely registering the first part. Calamity’s expression darkened, silvery drool dribbling down her lips.

“Enough!” Horac bellowed, voice rumbling hard enough to rattle the windows of the restaurant. “I normally wouldn’t hit a lady, but if you don’t stop harassing these two, I’ll make an exception.”

He and Calamity glared at one another, before she broke free, slashing Wrecks across the stomach, tearing his shirt and vest open. His cigarette carton fell to the ground.

When she walked past Elle, the hatred of her expression was palpable.

Running to Wrecks, Elle pulled at the weaving. The webbing wasn’t just sticky, but it also seemed to have… Something on it that tore at her skin. While it didn’t leave gashes, there were tiny cuts that would be a pain.

“Ah…” Wrecks winced. “Stop pulling at it.”

Rolling his shoulders, he yanked his legs free. The motion sent a crack up the wall. They both stared at it with wide eyes.

Swallowing, Elle offered her hand to him. His fingers wrapped around hers, and she led him back inside. Even though he probably didn’t need it, there was a silent appreciation.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Would he even fit in one?

“I’m fine.” Wrecks assured her as Horac locked the backdoor. “She didn’t break the skin. Although I did like this shirt.” He tried to hold the tattered ends together frowning when they came apart.

“This is going to be a bitch to fix.”

Elle knew it had to be serious. Wrecks rarely even rose his voice. To have him swearing, even if it was a ‘minor’ one…

“Well, she must have rattled you up pretty good if you’re cursing like that.” She said, grabbing a paper towel and using it to soak up the blood blossoming on her palms.

“Shepard, I can have a filthy mouth, I choose not to.” Wrecks held this hands over the rip and sighed. “It’s hard finding shirts in my size…”

Horac sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, tusks wiggling in irritation. “This is the kinda crud that night shift is supposed to deal with.”

They didn’t reopen for lunch, with a bandaged covered Ramses on the phone with a local contractor. He apologized to Wrecks over and over, promising a bonus, paid overtime.

“It’s fine, really.” Wrecks assured him. “I’m just sorry for breaking the building.”

“Buildings can be replaced,” Ramses replied. “You can’t.” He rubbed the phone’s screen against his brow. “We may have to close down for the festival.”

“Horac and I can handle it.” Elle piped up, not wanting to go back to her apartment. “Maybe only close for lunch so you can prep the bar?”

“The full moon is coming up, too. We’re out of food until tomorrow… All these thirsty Driders will probably be wanting drinks…” Ramses groaned. “Ugh. Too much is happening at once.” He smacked the heels of his palms against his horns.

“Perhaps I could help?” A sing-song voice called out. With a crack like a whip, Tanpopo was sitting on the front counter, fanning himself with a menu.

Ramses put himself between the Kitsune and Elle. He made a fist, the residue on his hands beginning to seep through the bandages.

“Oh relax, Mammy.” Tanpopo set the menu down, pulling out a proper fan and unfolding it. Waving it, he sighed. “I’m not here to play with your human. I’m here because I want to make a deal.”

“Want me to throw him out?” Horac asked, popping his knuckles loudly.

“Oh, call off your Pig, Mammy.” Tanpopo scowled. “I don’t like these Driders anymore than you do. The heat makes them aggressive. The less of them concentrated in one area, the better. Besides.” He smirked. “Having a Demon Prince owe me a favor would be simply divine.”

“How about you leave before I skin you alive for drugging my employee.” Ramses lip split, red drops spilling on the floor.

“Oh come now, you can’t put all that on me.” The fan snapped closed. “She didn’t have to eat the cakes I brought her.” He looked pointedly at Horac.

“And weren’t you supposed to be a deterrent? Shame you chose to leave early that day. Are your Piglets at home doing well? Your Sow?”

The Kitsune grinned. “Now, if we’re all done being squabbling children.” He tapped the fan to his lips. “I keep a favor on retainer, you get some extra hands.”

“No.” Ramses shook his head. “Never darken my doorstep again.”

“Fine. Your loss.” With another crack, Tanpopo was gone. His voice faded slowly. “And here I thought you would want a profit.”

“Boss?” Horac asked.

“Go home. I’ll handle things here.” Ramses snarled.

“Understood.” Horac cleared his throat and was out the door. “I’m gonna pick up my kids.” There was worry in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Ramses.” Wrecks stuttered. “I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Ramses forced a smile, which made his fangs show. Elle felt a flush of heat go through her. Even if it was fake, the Demon was dazzling. “I knew the risk when you took you on.”

He turned to Elle. “He’s staying with you?”

Elle nodded. “For now, until the festival is over.”

“Good. Head home.” Ramses’ tone left no room for debate. “I expect you to perform up to par or better upon return.”

“Yes, sir.” Elle nodded, about to turn when Ramses grabbed her arm. Gently, so she could pull free with little effort. Even the slight touch made the liquid start to bubble under the bandages. He kept his face stoic, despite his eyes becoming watery with pain.

“Are you okay?” He nodded to her hands, his eyes scouring her face. Could he see the marks left by Adrian?

She pulled herself free before he could.

“Of course!” Elle forced a smile of her own, before turning to Wrecks. “You ready?”

***

Wrecks was fiddling with his shirt for what felt like hours while Elle watched him and the show she’d put on. Finally, she dug out her sewing kit.

“No!” He insisted, “I can do it.” He clutched the shirt protectively.

“You’re driving me crazy!” She set the sewing kit on the coffee table. “Give it here.” She held out her hand expectantly.

“No.” He hissed, before crawling up to his mini nest.

Elle sighed and rubbed her face before she settled back down on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.” He said sharply. “Calamity was a friend. Things changed.” Realizing his tone, he sighed and set the shirt down, descending and sitting next to Elle.

“Drider women get crazy this time of year.”

She watched him rock, forelegs rubbing together.

“And you’re not?”

Wrecks looked toward the window. “Can’t work, can’t go outside, my mind is racing.” He shut the blinds. “What do you do to relieve stress?”

Elle raised a brow, pausing the show and closing her laptop. They weren’t watching it anyway.

“What’s that look for?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that answer.”

His face screwed up in realization. “Shepard!”

“You asked.”

He rubbed his face. “I forget humans are always ready to go.” He laid back on the mattress, legs pointed straight up. It was almost comical.

“How do you put up with it? I can barely weave two thoughts together.”

Elle rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m constantly humping anything that moves.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth. “The Asmodeus Fruit was a one-time exception, and I was drugged.”

Wrecks closed his mouth, eyes rolling to the side as he pursed his lips, before opening it again. “How did that work out, anyway?”

The memory of Ramses’ hands over her body, his lips on her skin… Elle shook her head. They’d agreed not to talk about it.

“He had the antidote. I drank it and we were fine.” She answered quickly, cheeks burning. There was some truth to it. “Although I did give him a run for his money.” Her legs clamped together, the sensation of the silk binding them…

“Your bindings helped a lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s one of the first things we learn to spin. It’s pretty easy.” As he spoke, he wove a few strands around his wrist. “And tying things up… It’s a useful skill.” He swallowed.

“I prefer to use mine to make things.” He paused, braiding the silk into a bracelet and passing it over to Elle.

Slipping it on her wrist, Elle watched it slide down. It rested above the crook of her elbow, a small silken spider dangling from the braiding. Wrecks looked disappointed at the result.

“It’s fine!” She assured him, slipping it around her throat. “I’ve always been more of a choker girl, anyway!”

He stared at the spider, flicking it and giving a slight smile.

“Last year, I made some clothes for Horac’s daughters. The silk in Ramses parasol? I made that too.” He smiled, “I didn’t really… Pursue my passions in childhood. I was one of Arachne’s chosen, so I was slotted for other purposes.”

“Oh.” Elle winced. “You weren’t like… In a cult or something, were you?”

“Depends on your definition.” He shrugged. “Arachne’s followers have their beliefs. A woman was punished by the Gods to become a spider because she mocked and bested them.” He sighed. “And those who were nearby or came to her defense were cursed as well.”

Taking more strands, he began to weave them around his fingers, making a cat’s cradle. “Talented weavers, but cursed in their own ways. Some Driders follow without taking it to the extreme, but…” He dropped a few strands, forming “witch’s broom”. “If you were one of her ‘chosen’ you’d be in a cage.”

Elle put a hand to her throat, touching the spider. “Why aren’t you working as like… A tailor or something?”

Wrecks shrugged. “I’ve always liked cooking, too. The wages for a Drider in the textile business can be… Lower than you would think.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “I don’t want to bore you with Underworld Politics, but let’s just say Ramses is rather… Progressive for our kind.”

Our kind? Elle opened her mouth to ask, but closed it, letting him continue. It made sense demons and creatures of the Underdark communicated and interacted regularly.

“Anyway, I wanted to make you something. I’ve been wanting to spin all day it’s been driving me crazy. Having someone else give me orders… It’ll help.” He slid more webbing around his fingers. “I guess being a follower never really left my nature.”

Elle stared at it, before biting her lip. So many uses for ropes…

No. Focus.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Wrecks shrugged. “I’ve gone to therapy about it. They gave me some good coping mechanisms. But this time of year… It’s hard. Because I want to partake, it’s part of my culture.” His forelegs rubbed together so much, Elle worried they would spark.

“But I don’t want children. If I father a clutch, any like me will relieve my childhood. And those who aren’t… They’ll grow up in the Underworld or on the fringes of society.”

‘The intact male…’

“I thought you said Driders didn’t…” Her eyes went to where skin met chitin.

“Most don’t,” Wrecks corrected. “An intact male… It’s a rarity.” He inhaled sharply. “Driders are about 75 percent women, with the remaining 25 percent consisting of males, mostly neutered. I couldn’t give you an exact number, but maybe one out of eight clutches will produce an intact male?”

“Normally, they would give someone like me a little harem or something, never have to work a day in my life. Luxury, wanting for nothing. In exchange, I could never leave the Underworld, and once the Mating Season began....” He let himself trail off, sighing deeply.

“But I didn’t want that life.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I know this is sounding like a pity party… Poor little privileged Drider complaining about how his perfect life sucked.”

Elle put a hand on his shoulder. He stared at it, then gave a strained smile.

“If you didn’t want it, you didn’t want it.” She chuckled nervously. “I understand why you tied me up now.”

“I generally don’t do it.” He cleared his throat. “When you tried to kiss me, I was worried that some of the berry residues would get on me and it would trigger my mating cycle.” The blush spread down his neck. “I grew up with very aggressive pursuers. And we can be… Violent when mating.”

Elle slid her hand off his shoulder and put it in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“You were under the influence, so I don’t hold it against you.” He stroked her hair. “When Calamity had me tied up and struck me, it got triggered.” Swallowing, he nervously rubbed the back of his head.

“You see… When Driders go into their cycles, they pair off and mate for the duration of it. Sometimes, there’s combat involved.”

“Combat!?” Elle sputtered. “Why?”

“Because we’re predatory. A female needs a strong male to fertilize her clutch. Otherwise, the children born will most likely be neutered, so the legends say.” He rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “Usually, a dozen or so are born per cycle, but maybe five will make it to adulthood.”

“Oh.” Elle swallowed, suddenly feeling guilty. This sounded barbaric. She thought of Calamity, her anger. Had she had children that…?

“It’s… Complicated.” He tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Elle’s ear, the touch making her shiver. “I know you stepped in as my friend and I was looking at you when it got triggered. If you had been a Drider, it would have probably mate bonded us for the cycle.”

Elle blushed. “I’m not looking for that kind of commitment.” Or another Adrian. The thought made her shiver.

“Oh. No!” Wrecks waved his hands. “I didn’t mean to imply that! But… When you kissed me that day, even if you didn’t consider it one, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I… Really was flattered. I know outside the Underdark, I’m… Rather frightening. What made me special is common here.”

He swallowed hard, tongue flicking across his lips, leaving a silvery residue. “And when you came to my rescue, I felt the same pang that I normally would when trying to bond. I know we’re different species, so you probably couldn’t even comprehend such a thing-”

His face fell, “Not that I’m implying you’re too stupid to, or anything, but-” He inhaled sharply and rubbed his brow. “I have six feet, and I’m shoving them all in my mouth.”

Elle patted his leg closest to her. “I get what you mean.”

“Even though we aren’t bonded. Can’t be bonded.” Wrecks explained, “I’m… happy you still came to my aid. And… I do think you’re attractive. And it’s not just the attempted bond talking.” He twisted a section of hair around his finger, staring at it. “I’m not… Good at these types of things.”

“That’s okay.” She focused on the laptop. “I won’t hold it against you. And I know you’re… Sort of under an influence of your own.”

Swallowing, he rubbed his hands together. “But it will only last a week or so. After that, my feelings will plummet right back down to platonic. And I do have some self-control.”

She swallowed, closing her eyes. A way to regain control…

“Why not have fun then?” Elle asked. “You can blow off some steam, and don’t have to worry about a clutch.”

Wrecks sputtered. “Shepard! I… Look, I know I’ve probably put you in an awkward spot. But, you’re my friend and coworker first. Erm… Well, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to and…” Realization dawned on him as she shot him a look.

“Oh.” He paused. “Wait, you… I mean, the incubus was one thing, but-”

“Do you need a minute to process?” She felt her cheeks flush.

Lips were on hers. Front legs wrapped around Elle’s hips, pulling them close. Bitter liquid pooled in her mouth.

Gagging, Elle pulled away and spat, seeing silvery liquid on the coffee table.

“S-Sorry.” Wrecks gave her a rag. “That’s venom. It’s harmless, though. I keep myself on a strict diet to remove the toxins.” He watched as Elle dabbed at her lips.

Her mouth tingled, but there seemed to be no ill effects.

“Just caught me off guard.” She found herself smiling, despite it all.

“Do you want to stop?” He swallowed, setting her down.

“It’s fine!” Elle assured him. “Just uh… Warn a girl next time.”

“Then… Do you mind if I undress you?”

“Let me do it.” She pushed him against the mattress, straddling him. His legs tangled with hers.

Grabbing her shirt, Elle pulled it over her head.

Wrecks stared at her bra, before looking horribly confused. He ran his hands over it, before pulling at the cups and straps. Elle sighed, and reached back and unhooked it, knowing she’d have to educate him later.

Wrecks reached up, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Then, he leaned forward, circling his tongue around it, teeth grazing the tip.

More venom dribbled down her skin, the tingling following. The sensation made Elle’s nipples go erect, the arousal fanning inside her. A soft moan escaped her and she ground against him.

“I guess that means I’m going it right.” Wrecks chuckled, holding onto her hips. “I’ve never felt a breast before. They’re soft.” He held it in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Drider women… Don’t have to-”

She put a finger to his lips. “You’re not with a drider. You’re with a human.”

Eyes wide, Wrecks slowly nodded. Hands trailed lower, and Elle slipped out of her pants, smashing breasts to his face to do so. When she settled again, his cheeks were inflamed.

He stared at her panties, frowning as his forelegs tugged at the waistband. It snapped against Elle’s skin, making her yelp.

“I don’t want to rip it.”

“Slow down.” She laughed, slipping his shirt off over his head. “I don’t even know where to touch you.”

“It’s still flesh like yours above the waist.” He guided her hand over his chitin, around where she assumed a human groin would be. There was a slit. It was widening at her touch. Running her fingers over the edges, she felt him squirm under the touch.

Then, she tried to stick a finger in.

Wrecks flinched, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulders. “No. That’s not what that’s meant to do.” Elle quickly pulled her finger out, resting a hand on the widening hole.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fighting against biology, hold on.”

“Maybe you could try tying me up?” She suggested. “Make me a conquest?”

“You wouldn’t be able to stop me, then.” Wrecks shifted. “I could hurt you.”

Elle leaned forward where his neck and shoulder met. She planted a kiss, then sucked hard on the skin, using her teeth.

Wrecks yelped, grabbing the back of her head. “You’re going to leave a mark…” He whimpered when she moved across his collarbone. Something slick and hard pressed against her, fluid trickling down her thighs.

Staring at the mark on the Drider’s neck, Elle ground against him again.

“You’re drenched. I can feel it, even through your panties.” A leg tugged at the waistband. He ran his lips over Elle’s, before pressing hard to the nape of her neck. Their mouths locked again, and she threw her arms around him.

One leg pushed her panties to the side, and she felt him pressing. Slick and wet, like a very stiff tongue. She wondered if it would be colored like his skin or the chitin.

Reaching down, she guided him inside. Wrecks gasped, hands and legs digging into her skin. More drool and venom dripped onto her cheek.

“I keep feeling the urge to attack you.” He winced.

“Do you want to stop?” It pained her to say, but the distress was obvious.

“Just…” His cheeks were purple, “Take control?”

“Can you make any webbing?”

He nodded, and she used it to bind his wrists above his head, using the wall to secure it. The legs behind his cock were bound together, and his legs above it to his thorax. Unlike Calamity’s, his webbing was smooth.

He whimpered at first and Elle worried that he would be reminded of Calamity, but his (black!) cock was drooling and erect, and he nodded in approval. More venom drooled out, but he assured her it was normal.

Lastly, she bound his neck with a leash so he couldn’t rear up and bite her.

“You alright? Knots aren’t too tight?”

“I’m… Fine.” He blushed as his cock twitched. “You’ll have to teach me how to do this.”

Putting her hand at the nape of his neck, she gripped the leash tightly, holding it in place as she straddled him, slipping back onto his cock. The motion made him gasp, his abdomen rocking so he could penetrate further.

The length was almost too much to take, but she knew how to work around that. Rolling her hips, she found a rhythm that worked. Resting against his bound forelegs, she planted a kiss on his jaw, which made him shudder.

He thrust against Elle, the motion sending warmth through her body. She pressed her free hand to the wall, continuing to rock her hips and take him nearly to the base.

Wrecks moans and whimpers grew louder, and she debated gagging him, but knew it would only make him panic.

“I have neighbors, remember?” She hissed.

“S-Sorry. Just feels too good.” He gasped, the bite mark on his neck nearly turning black.

Tingling on her skin made Elle’s skin pebble, each thrust drowning her in wave after wave of pleasure. Leaning down, she covered Wrecks’ lips with her own. Venom pooled in her mouth, more salty than bitter this time

The barrage of her mouth and tongue made Wrecks’ body grow scorching hot, the binding suddenly ripping apart, tattered silk flying everywhere. His legs wrapped around hers, spreading them wide. Forelegs pulled them close together, holding Elle against his chest as he began to thrust with vigor, hilting each time.

“F-fuck, Elle…”

She couldn’t help it and laughed.

“What?” He swallowed, brows raised.

“It’s just… The first time you’ve ever called me by my first name.” And if she had her way, it would be said several more times.

She stayed close as she felt the pleasure building, her high-pitched gasps filling his ears. The noise encouraged him further and he pushed as much of himself into her as possible, before yelping when she clenched.

Back arching, Elle shuddered as the orgasm hit. The sudden change made Wrecks flinch. His legs dug into her like nails as his own body trembled, the stimulation too much. His cock twitched, fluid spilling out of her and onto the bed.

And just kept coming.

“Ah!” She yelped, trying to disentangle herself and save the blankets.

She should have laid down towels! What was she thinking? The more she struggled, the tighter Wrecks’ hold became.

“S-sorry. It’s for a clutch, remember?” His legs twitched, holding her in place until he finished. "I'm not holding you like this on purpose." His cheeks flared. "I have to make sure you, uh, get... Fertilized. Even if it's not possible."

Once he released her, she pulled him onto the floor. Switching on her fan, she let the cool air roll over them as they tried to catch their breath.

“Are you okay?” He brushed damp wisps of hair from her face.

“I’m fine.” She chuckled, smiling. “I guess that’s one thing off my ‘fuck-it’ list.”

“Your what!?”

With wobbly legs, she managed to get to the bathroom and rinse off, barely able to stand for the short shower.

When she came out, he had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and was trying to clean the comforter with a wet rag.

And bleach.

“Wrecks!” She about full-body tackled him.

“I was trying to fix it!” He said awkwardly around the cigarette. His front legs twitched, pulling her into an awkward embrace as they wrapped around her thighs, just under her rear. “Because I wanted to… Try again.”

Elle felt herself blushing, even more so when she saw the head start to peek out from the slit again. Swallowing, she retrieved towels from the bathroom while he tossed the comforter to the side.

“Okay. But we’re going to do it right this time. And you still have to smoke outside.”

Next part here!

#monster love #monster lover #monster x human #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monsterfucker #terato #monster smut #drider #drider x human #drider lover #drider smut #cream filling

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months ago

Text

King and Prince 17

Part 16

When Steve undressed that evening, he hung up the new outfit from Eddie with care. Tired from the day, he collapsed onto the bed, stripped down to nothing which was how Robin found him that morning, causing her to awaken him with a shriek.

Steve found his bed covered in an assortment of folded clothes, both for the daytime and for slumbering. They were meant for daily activities, so none as fine as the green outfit Eddie had gotten him before. But somehow Steve knew it was all the king’s doing.

One evening, Steve and Robin were recataloging books, when she finally spoke up about this strange relationship they had been forming.

“You probably spent your nights with more excitement. A lass on one arm a drink in another”, she said only half derisively. She was up on a ladder while Steve passed books to her from a cart.

“Eh, not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, I got a lass and a drink right here.”

Robin raised a brow before realizing he meant her and the pitcher of water over by one of the tables. “I’m not your lass and it looks like your standards for drinks have dropped. What is it with you anyway?”, she asked.

Steve paused, arm halfway stretched to handing her the next book. “What’s up with me?”

“You’re acting like you don’t even miss it? Weren’t you a prince? Like, adoring crowds, people falling over themselves for you, friends for miles. That kind of prince?”

Steve shook his head and handed her the book. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh come on, don’t be modest. It looks stupid on you.”

His face pinched at that, not liking being called stupid in any capacity and also wondering what Robin meant by that. Before he could ask, she continued, apparently seeing the confusion on his face.

“You’re going to tell me you don’t miss any of that? That you’re fine staying here and being a glorified lackey?”

“I…” Steve had been trying not to think about that place anymore. He didn’t miss it. “I didn’t have a lot of close friends. Not like you’re thinking. No real adoring crowds either.”

“Oh bullshit”, Robin slid down from the ladder. She looked to the water pitcher again before nodding to Steve. “Come on.”

And Steve followed.

Followed until they got to a room he’d never been in. It took Steve a little too long to realize it was Robin’s bedroom. There was a stack of well loved books by the bed. A dartboard with small knives sitting on a table nearby. And a bottle of wine that Robin had already opened.

“Uhh…”, Steve was paused by the door, wondering if he was only just now picking up on something Robin had been putting down all this time.

Robin turned to face him and then realized how it all seemed. Her body jerked like the very idea sent a shock of lightning through her and she nearly dropped the bottle.

“Oh! Shit! Shoot! No! I wasn’t-! We’re drinking! Just as like-I’m mean we’re not friends, but like. I don’t know, it sounded like you wanted to talk and I like gossip and drama but I thought you wouldn’t talk about it sober so…” Robin set the bottle down on the floor and sat down, a mismatched pair of cups already there.

Steve let out a breath. “I would have been terribly flattered.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re not my type. In any way, shape or form.” She sat down right on the floor and poured for both of them.

“You’re at least one of my types, maybe”, Steve said. Robin was beautiful. And funny, and smart, and she knew how to handle the kids but also never took herself too seriously. Just as soon as the idea was put in his head, it was snuffed out. He tried not to think on it too hard as he took that first sip. What he was thinking about was how long it had been since he’d been with anyone.

“So there’s no one you miss?”, Robin pressed.

“I had, like two friends”, Steve admitted. “They were…we knew each other since we were kids. And we just kind of stayed together. But then we got older and it just got so…” Steve was too sober for this conversation, so he took a sip.

Robin got the message and switched gears. “Alright, what about a sweetheart?”

There were quite a few who could qualify. But none who Steve had thought of while he was locked up. No one in particular he wanted to rush back to. So he just shook his head. Then he took another sip.

“Don’t tell me you’re celibate because I won’t believe it.”

“Why not? I could be celibate if I wanted to, I haven’t had sex a single time since I got here. I haven’t even…”, Steve paused before making a motion with his hand like he was stroking himself. Normally he wouldn’t do such a gesture in front of a lady. But Robin wasn’t just a lady. Plus, she had already seen him naked.

Robin snorted. “You’re acting like that’s a long time. And are you being honest? You haven’t? Even once?”

“I haven’t been in the mood”, Steve shrugged. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you exactly rushing off to cavort.”

“Steve, you only see me a couple hours a day, don’t assume what I’m doing.”

“So are you…?”

Robin huffed, then took a gulp. “No. Not currently, anyway.”

“So we’re both living like monks.” Steve raised his cup.

“My mother would be so proud”, Robin drawled as she raised her own to meet Steve’s.

The way she said it, Steve instantly knew. Of course, he couldn’t know the extent of it, but it sounded like Robin’s mother rarely was proud. He wondered where Robin’s mother was. Wondered where some of the other families were too. Dustin’s mother worked in the castle, but that was about as much as he knew about any of their families. And what of the royal family?

“Hey, is it just Eddie?”

“Is what just Eddie?”

“The royal family. He doesn’t have any relatives? Any heirs?” Steve wondered if that was why he kept wards. To bring up one to take the crown. It was odd of someone his supposed age to have no one. And his own family’s recordings never spoke of any lineage stemming from or to King Edward.

“He is very much solitary, as far as I know”, Robin said. She took another sip but watched the prince from her rim.

All Steve did was hum in response. “So tell me about this mother of yours. She sounds just as lovely as mine.”

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

Eddie didn’t like being caught off guard. He always tried to cover himself and make sure he protected those under his wing. So even though the Harringtons had said they were done with Steve, Eddie couldn’t fully believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. Because spring was here and they were too conspicuous, the demobeasts he would allow to remain in hibernation for now.

So he sent birds instead. He sent them to watch over the king and queen and see how they were really taking the absence of their son. He saw Juliana give a few tears one evening, while staring at a painting of what must have been a young Steve. But that was it. There was no official announcement to their people, but it was plain to see that Steve was no longer considered royalty by the court.

With a groan, Eddie cut off the connection between him and the raven, miles away. He rubbed his own actual eyes and then left his study to go and sit with the eager smiles that mirrored his own. It was story time and tonight, Eddie was thinking of throwing a few obstacles in the way, something really to get the kids excited like a tough riddle or even a labyrinth.

He came to one of the more comfortable sitting rooms, drinks and snacks already on the table, each child in their designated spot. But there was a new body floating in the room, standing off to the side like he wasn’t sure which place to sit. Obviously, not in the grand looking chair that was most definitely designated for Eddie.

“What brings you ‘round these parts, my liege?”, Eddie asked.

Steve had an arm across him and shrugged. “I’ve heard so much about your stories, I wanted to hear them for myself.”

The thought made Eddie so giddy that he climbed up onto his chair, squatting on it like a gargoyle while he met Steve’s gaze with a grin. If the prince wanted a show, he would give him the performance of a lifetime.

“Well then”, he settled onto the cushion, legs crossed now. Come take the seat with the best view~”

Steve’s eyes widened, not expecting something so blatantly, well, flirtatious. But he quickly regained his composure. “I’ll be fine right here, thanks.” He took the floor on the other side of the table, able to see all of Eddie and the rest of the kids.

Eddie’s grin didn’t falter and if anything, it deepened. Suddenly, getting the little prince to sit in his lap seemed to be his greatest life’s mission. If only because of how funny it would be. Yeah… funny.

Part 18

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie

@goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble

@jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24

@justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void

@nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #here's to HOPING yall are actually NOTIFIED

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garbinge · 11 months ago

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But Not Today

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: Part 2 from Maybe One Day // Chibs comes to visit you on the farm.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I've been thinking about these two a lot </3 Part 1

Your chest was rising and falling as you caught your breath and stared at the ceiling. It was the moment where all your wits and sanity came back over you and the thoughts of what just happened came flooding in. The smell of his Scottish cologne and cigarettes filled the empty space on the bed next to you, it was still warm to the touch. You heard the water from the faucet turn off and any thought that was sneaking in your brain was now being rushed out as Chibs reappeared in your room. His hands were tangling through his shirt as he put it back on. Your eyes darted from him to his kutte, waiting to see if he was going to put it on. That’s when your heart began to race even more. The thought of him leaving made you uneasy, he had come all the way up here to the farm to see you and explained nothing. It was partially your fault too, you made pleasantries, some quick small talk but before any explanation was given you were kissing him and dragging him into your room.

“What’s with the face, love?” Chibs spoke as he grabbed his kutte, your heart sinking with it.

“Leaving already?” Your eyes moved back to his.

A smile grew on his face as he shrugged the leather over his shoulders. “You promised me uh tour, didn’ya? If I ‘member correctly you said sum ‘bout chickens?”

The way the relief washed over you made you sad for a minute. You knew this was a feeling you’d feel again, that it’d be heavy when it happened, but you took a deep breath and tried to stay in the moment.

“Earl, Tootsie, Olive, and Jameson.” You named them off as you stood up and re-dressed.

Chibs was now grinning as he waited for you to get ready. “Jameson, huh?” He asked pulling out a cigarette to hang in his mouth, eager to get outside and smoke it.

“Abel and Thomas named them when they were young kids, but I made sure I suggested one.”

Chibs was holding out your sweatshirt for you. You approached and grabbed it from him but instead of letting go he pulled you closer. “Not tha only thing you have ‘round here as a reminder of me.” His face was dangerously close to yours as he looked down at the sweatshirt. It was the one item of his you could still wear around. There were no SAMCRO tags, just a black zip-up that barely had his scent left on it.

“I’ve got pictures too.” You said stealing the zip-up back from him and placing a kiss on the left side of his mouth where the cigarette wasn’t dangling from his lips. Moving past him you made your way to the backdoor, the barn dog you got quickly getting up from her bed and moving to the sliding door just waiting to run around to herd the few goats you had.

“Where’re the boys?” Chibs asked as he walked behind you.

“Thomas is with Nero. Tuesdays he picks him up from school and takes him to basketball practice.” You spoke as the door slid open and the door ran past your legs. “Abel is 16— I’m lucky if I know what he’s wearing for the day. I thought Gemma was being exaggerated when she’d talk about the “Teller Terrible Teens” but Abel has made her words an understatement.”

Chibs looked to you with a frown as you stepped onto the back deck and made your way down to the farmland.

“It’s not horrible. He’s not a dick to me, he helps out when I ask. He just– he questions everything, he’s asking about Jax, he’s getting into trouble at school.” You shook your head thinking about these last few weeks and how Abel had been acting out.

“The worst part is, he reminds me of him so much. The way he looks, the way he talks.” You laughed as you unlatched the barn fence and moved around it to look at Chibs and invite him in with the sway of your arm. “Yesterday, we were at the grocery store and he looked at the girl bagging our shit and said, “thanks, darlin’” I swore I was looking at Jax, I froze for a minute and just stared at him.” You laughed again.

Chibs laughed with you knowing it sounded just like the boy’s father.

“He’s probably out with his friends on his dirt bikes in the back trails.” You spoke as you walked through the goat pasture. “They probably do real stupid shit but I’d rather them do it on the property than at some random’s house or parking lot downtown. I’ve turned them into real country boys.” You turned back to see Chibs admiring everything around him. He was still listening to you but he was taking in the sight around him.

“This is the goat pasture, Billie girl, our dog, loves herding them, honestly I got ‘em because I don’t have to mow the lawn as much. We’ve got 1 horse, Delilah, real beauty, she’s back in that red barn over there. Then there’s the chickens. We had more but they aged out, now we’re down to the four. Waiting to get 12 more, can’t go to the Farmer’s market with only 2 dozen eggs, you know?” The words were falling out fast as you spoke, nervous habit, but it didn’t stop you from beaming as you showed Chibs around.

“You seem happy.” Chibs couldn’t help but smile as he took in every word you said. The both of you approached the back deck and plopped down on the rocking chairs Nero insisted you kept back here for company. It was an argument between you two when you first moved onto the farm. You looked at him like he was crazy when he mentioned company. It was hard to believe a normal life with having people over could exist when you were running from what you were running from.

You looked over at Chibs as he looked right back at you after making his last comment, the smile on your face wasn’t at his words but at the memory of Nero’s.

“I don’t know about happy.” You began to shake your head. “But, I don’t know I’m content, I’m…” Your mind wandered to find the right word.

“At peace.” Chibs nodded as he finished your sentence, not even bothering to look at your eyes to see if his words were correct, he knew they were.

You would have agreed with a nod but Chibs was looking out at the farm, his fave had fallen into an expression that was hard to read. He seemed…bittersweet. Happy but yet sad.

As he stared out at the barn he nodded his head and said something under his breath.

“The Universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.”

“What?” You leaned forward, frown filling your face as the familiar sentiment fell from his lips. It was hard to really pinpoint anything since he spoke it at a mumble.

“I, uh.” Chibs reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket notebook. “found this. In the garage. S’why I came out here, figured you should have it.” He handed over one of Jax’s notebooks. You knew what it was immediately, it matched the style of the other one you had.

“I read it.” Chibs said those three words with multiple emotions behind it. Regret and apologies, for intruding on whatever privacy there was there, but also firmness and understanding like something in there just made sense.

“And?” You rested your elbows on your knees.

“‘nd, it’s’y I came here and didn’t mail it out.” He looked troubled now. “I wanted to make sure you were settled.”

Now that statement held more weight knowing what he had just mumbled under his breath.

“I guess I am.” You hated that the words felt like they were breaking his heart.

“You are, love.” Chibs spoke with certainty.

You looked out onto the farm, taking in the life you had. It was different than the life you had been born into, forced into. The life that took pretty much everything away from you.

“It’s impossible to be at peace in that town.” You said the words outloud. It felt relieving to say it. All this time you had never said it outloud, they were just thoughts that danced around you head.

“Don’t I know it.” Chibs agreed with you.

That made your head turn to him, a little shocked. All your conversations when you were together, or involved was probably the better word, back in Charming never were really about the big problem. Sure, you two talked about club stuff, the things members told their ol’ ladies, about your brother, about Jimmy O, about a lot, but never the real source.

“What are you saying?” You questioned him, more bold than you ever would have before.

“Things are different. Things are messy.” He wanted to share but you could tell he was hesitant, that he was trying to ease back into your dynamic and add another layer to it. But the loyalty to the club ran deep, that was a multi-decade long habit that he was trying to break for the first time.

“Doesn’t sound different.” That was the new you coming up to speak. The you that lost your brother, your brother’s best friend, your mother, your father to the club.

Chibs nodded at that. “We’re getting into it with the Mayans. Other charters, they’re falling apart, it’s bleeding into SAMCRO.”

“Yea, doesn’t sound different at all.” You crossed your arms and fell back into the rocking chair.

“Your brother–Jax–Jackie boy,” Chibs went through all the names he’d call Jackson Teller, smiling at the last one before letting his lips fall, “this wasn’t what he wanted, he worked hard to leave everything in a good place and it’s like shit unraveled.”

You could tell he was venting to you, you could tell he hadn’t been able to do this with anyone else in his life, no one from the club, no one in his love life, it could’ve made you feel special, a characteristic Chibs never failed at with you, but this wasn’t so much of a fail but just not something you could ever feel special about again.

“As someone who's seen it before, from the outside but up close and personal. This doesn’t seem different at all.”

It was the same statement you kept repeating, but this time, the way you said this, it made him look at you. His eyes were low, tired, and you could see the gloss and redness in them as he held back tears. Two strands of his long salt and pepper hair escaped from his sunglasses and fell in front of his eyes, oily and dirty you could tell he was going through it.

He didn’t need to say anything, you knew he was looking at you to elaborate.

It was mean to laugh, but you felt that you had the right to after everything you’ve been through and talking about it now was bringing that bitterness up.

“You’re so deep in it, you don’t even see what’s plain in front of your eyes.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath letting the irritation leave your tone for the next sentence out of your mouth. “Your next. Everyone who's held that gavel ends up in the same place, making the same mistakes as the one previous, no matter how hard they try not to.”

Chibs took in what you said.

“Jax tried so hard to be JT, then tried so hard not to be him. Both of those things dug that grave for him. He loved the club more than anything and the club couldn’t love him back.” You were saying things that you had locked away in your mind for years, things you thought about as you buried your brother, as you packed your life up and left. “The club will never love you back.” You looked at Chibs. “Those guys might love you, but the club never will.”

“Do you?”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to change the subject, at first your head snapped to him with a smirk and a snappy remark to shoot back at him but you saw his face that was looking out at the farm.

“Never stopped.”

The words made him look at you and you smiled at him. Your head tilted and lowered to meet him at eye level since he was leaning his elbows on his knees. “Best part is, the farm,” you tilted your head a little more before leveling it out, “it loves you back.” You nodded. “Every animal, every acre of land, the boys even when they fucking hate you for embarrasing them in front of a girl,” you laughed at that one and smiled hoping the last one was going to be enough to convince him, “me.”

The tear dropped at that one. His eyes shut tight as a couple more fell.

“Move here. You can open up a garage, we have the buildings for it, Nero would even let you put something up closer to the road, you can come with me to the Farmer’s market, you can drive me to the vet at 2 in the morning when I’m worried that Billie got into something or that one of the chicken’s has a fever,” you chuckled, “you can ride dirt bikes with the boys and tell them about Jax, not SAMCRO president, but your best friend, how you fell in love with your best friend’s sister, you can wake up and feel settled, feel at peace.”

Chibs wanted to say yes. He wanted to build a fire and burn the kutte right here right now, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. In this moment it was but as the thought settled, as the days would pass, he’d think about it, he’d dwell in it, wonder if he made the right decision, miss the kutte, miss the guys.

“It’s not that easy, love.” Chibs tired to level with you.

“Doesn’t seem like the life you’re living now is either.” You would beg him, it wasn’t below you to beg. “It’s going to kill you.” You were firm in your words, it wasn’t begging but you thought it might have an impact on him. “The club is going to kill you.”

“A normal life would too.” He answered too quickly and immediately you knew it was a losing argument.

The sound of an engine and the gravel dirt being stirred up and you knew it was Thomas and Nero coming back home. Chibs looked over and saw them pulling into the driveway when he stood up.

“Was really good seeing you, love.” He put his hand on your cheek and looked down at you. “Really good.” His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled.

You nodded in agreement and thanked him for the journal. His hand was still on your cheek when you shut your eyes tight. “Don’t come back here unless the ink is blacked out and the kutte is off.”

The words broke you to say, but it was more than just you that you had to look out for. You had two boys to think of and the man who was generous enough to give you half of his acreage to live on.

“Ay.” He agreed with no disdain in his voice, if anything it was littered with understanding and what you hoped was well, hope.

Your eyelids remained shut as his hand dropped and he walked off the back porch. You heard the car doors close but no words exchanged. If you weren’t dealing with everything that just happened in your head right now you’d be imagining the way Nero was probably lifting his sunglasses while Chibs was lowering his, the nods both would give to eachother, the curious questioning look on Thomas’ face as he tried to place the visitor.

“You alright?” Nero’s voice was filling your ears and you wished it offered up the level of comfort it normally did.

The tears were wiped from your face immediately and you stood and smiled. “Yea, I’m good.”

Nero knew you weren’t but he also knew you weren’t going to share with Thomas two steps from joining you on the porch.

“Who was that?” Thomas was asking as he looked down at the snack he was fidgeting with to open.

Your gaze looked at Nero and said so much while not speaking at all. Before you either had a chance to answer, another voice was coming from the other direction as the back door swung open. “Was that guy on the bike here at the farm?” Abel’s voice was like a knife to your heart.

“Yea, it was someone looking to sell me something.” You lied straight through your teeth to both boys.

“Oh.” Thomas said as he passed by both you and Nero without second guessing your statement and walked right past his older brother into the house.

Abel looked like he might need more convincing but you could tell he decided to drop it. “I’m goin’ out later but I picked up the feed order and left it in the ATV wagon.”

“12AM curfew.” You pointed at him and he waved you off but you knew he’d be back before 1.

“What was he sellin’?” Nero asked you, the only one besides you who knew exactly who it was that was here.

You looked at Nero and shook your head at him.

“A dream.”

#SOA #Sons of Anarchy #Sons #SOA Fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfic #chibs telford #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs x reader #chibs telford x reader #teller sister #jax teller sister #jax teller sister reader

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sir-gio22 · 3 months ago

Text

TRAIN WITH ME ~Ben Shelton

Part 1

Ben shelton x reader

Prompt: you are a tennis player and your father trains you, too much. One day you faint and after you and ben happen to see each other.

Warnings: abuse, overtraining, fainting, mentions of hospitals

You're supposed to be the N1

You're supposed to be a rising star

You're supposed to be in the top 10

You're supposed to train bett

You're supposed to have a perfect technique

You're supposed to win every match, every point

You're supposed to serve better, to never double fault

You are a failure

A failur

A failu

A fail

A fai

A fa

A f

These are your thought, slowly fading away as you faint, on the cold floor of the hotel gym. After training for five hours in a row with your dad.

Those thoughts. They were the words your father say to you, every god damn day of your life.

Five hours ago, he dragged you away from the food you were eating, you didn't deserve it, he said. You only need to train, train, and train.

He made you run for three hours, only taking two little breaks, that was more than enough, your father said.

It's 6pm, he went to book a court for two hours for you to train after ‘dinner’, which he won't let you eat.

I will introduce yourself, if you let me. You are the child of a ex-pro player, your father was, twenty years ago, a slam champion and the n1 in the world.

When you were born, he didn't wanted a child. He wanted a prodigy. A pro student and player.

Your family, being rich, always made teacher come to your house to teach you, homeschooling you for years. The only time you would socialize where when your father would take you to elegant events about tennis or introduce you to other rich people. They usually were all adults, and the kids you would befriend in those nights were all spoiled and already acting like adults. They had the latests phones and clothes, they had perfect grades and everything they wanted, you, on the other side, had the things you needed to live when you deserved them. If you didn't train your father won't feed you or make you sleep in the cold and old basement.

At four years old, you were already winning kid tournaments, at 10 you won the national under 10 tournament, at 12 the under 12 one, at 14 the under 14 one, and at 15 your father made you play qualifying in the us open, you played small tournaments before in other countries, some 250 or 500 and a challenger 1000, but never a slam.

That week you won three rounds, but you got another qualifier prodigy at the fourth, which you lost to.

And your father let's say…he wasn't happy. The opposite. He was in the stands when you lost, your opponent celebrating, you shook hands and saw your fathers glare. You knew what was coming. And it was terrible.

That night you got beaten by him. And hard. You still have those scars, and you slept in the basement.

But what does you mom do to your father treating you like shit? Nothing.

She can't do anything. She's dead. A disease, the doctors says.

The truth?

Your father poisoned her slowly, it made her develop a disease. And the doctors? Corrupted by him.

Let's get back to the current time.

When your father left you sat on the floor of the empty gym, your father paid the hotel to have it exclusively for you when you wanted (when he did, just to specify, you had no word on this).

Your heart beating fast, too fast. It feels like it'll explode any second. Your ears were ringing, your vision blurry, your whole body not just sore, but exhausted by the excessive training.

You fainted.

Two hours later, getting shoken by someone made you regain consciousness. It was you father calling you to train.

In the two hours he left you were supposed to get back to your hotel room and study, and he's already mad because you're still in the gym.

“Were you sleeping, huh? Don't lie! I told you you had to study! What were you doing?! Resting? You don't need that!” He slapped you. Your left cheek reddening.

He made you get up and pushed you outside, then to the tennis courts.

You had to train with the strength you didn't had, the only this you looked towards every day was sleep.

You entered the court, there were hard courts divided by two benches and a umpire seat.

You didn't think that any other player would be playing in those courts, since usually your father books a secluded one where there's just you two training, because he has the habit to yell at you when you make mistakes.

But you see a young player in the second court, you recognize him, *Ben Shelton*, you never actually look at others players or chat with them, but sometimes Ben came to you to chat since you started playing professionally.

You wave at him, hoping he won't notice the eyebags under your eyes and the state you're in. More on the other side than on earth.

Ben was training with his father and coach, Bryan, having a parent as a coach isn't a pleasant thing, for you. But Ben seems to love being coached by Bryan. Well, can't blame him, Bryan's a sweet man, not an abuser.

You place your bag on the bench near the one where put his. You father was still at the gate, chatting with another coach, while Ben and Bryan came to you.

“hey! Long time no see, huh? Been some months since we talked, I wonder why you never get seen anywhere other than tennis courts. Anyway, how's it going?” Ben says

“Hey, nice to see you again ben! I'm alright, a bit tired, my old man's killing me. But don't tell him I'm complaining” you joke, still by telling a truth.

“Mine isn't taking back either, I feel like dying every practice ahah”

“That's not true, ben, I train you the right amount. Not too much, like their father does. Are you sure you're not training too much, bud?” Bryan chimes in.

You're eyes widen the much they can because you're so tired to actually make a shocked expression, what do you reply to that? You could tell the truth, ben was the closest thing you had to a friend after all, or you could lie, and if they believed you you'll probably faint again and go to the hospital.

You stay silent for a moment, their eyes locked on your face, concerned and worried about you.

What will happen? Find out in part 2!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this at school so it might not be that good, but let me know what you think! Should I continue this?? I already have the part two in mind but no spoilers🤭

#ben shelton imagine #ben shelton x reader #ben shelton #x reader #x gn reader

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katealot · 5 months ago

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Son of Hades, Excellent Ice-Pack

Read on Ao3

“GODS, Can everyone just leave me alone for FIVE SECONDS, please?!”

Nico heard it shouted loud and clear from the Apollo cabin, moments before the door flew open and a handful of nervous looking half-bloods rushed out. Austin brought up the rear of the group and closed the door decidedly. As he made his way down the stairs he caught Nico’s eye, and a look of relief washed over him (two things that did not usually go together in a sentence).

“He’s gone diva mode,” Austin confided, “which he only does when something like, ulta-fucked up happened.”

Nico felt strangely honored to be included in whatever was happening. That feeling had come over him more and more since he’d started hanging out around Cabin 7.

“Did he say anything?”

Austin shook his head,

“Just walked in fuming and told everyone to leave him alone.”

Nico nodded then glanced past the taller boy’s shoulder at the cabin. He noticed the lights inside had been shut off.

“I’ll go check on him,” Nico said, finally looking back at Austin, “To make sure he isn’t going to finally snap and go all psycho slasher doctor on the whole camp.”

Austin stared at Nico for a second but then laughed, a little nervously,

“Yeah… good plan,” he said, “Just… make sure he’s okay, okay?”

Nico couldn’t help but smile a little at Austin’s sincerity. Apollo kids, he had learned, were terribly earnest. He nodded. Austin nodded back and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder in solidarity. He then hurried past Nico and towards the younger campers who had just been kicked out of their room during down-time.

Nico faced the cabin with a sense of determination and walked forward, mounting the steps and stopping outside the door. He raised his fist to knock, but thought better of it, flipped his hand, and wrapped gently with only his knuckles.

He waited to hear anything from inside- permission, resistance; and when he heard nothing he slowly pushed open the creaky door and stepped quietly inside. Every light in the room was off, but it was still plenty bright throughout the entire structure. There were more windows in this one cabin than in any other, Nico had learned. Through each, the evening sun somehow soaked everything in the room in an amber glow.

The room was always sunny, Nico noted. No matter what time of day it was, the only time the sun could not be spotted by the kids in 7 was during a storm or at night. Some said it was because the building had been built in a spot that had been chosen by Apollo himself. Something the cabin never was- however- was empty. That’s why Nico wasn’t quite sure what to do as he stood silently in the doorway.

He doesn’t spot a single soul at first, but after chancing a few steps farther in, he finally saw them: a pair of tan legs and bare feet dangling off the top edge of the farthest bunk. Nico suppresses a smile. He had no idea why the other boy was acting this way, but he would be damned if he wasn’t going to find out.

Nico walks up to the bed directly next to him, kicking off his shoes, and climbing the ladder until he is perched, cross-legged, on the empty bed adjacent to Will Solace.

The blond was laying on his back, one arm resting on his stomach and the other flung dramatically over his eyes. Will didn’t stir as Nico approached, and Nico thought for a moment he might actually be asleep.

“You scared the crap out of the new blood,” Nico says bluntly, his quiet voice sounding very loud in the empty room.

At first there was no response. Slowly, though, Will raised his arm just enough to see that it was Nico talking to him, and lowered it again to fasten it firmly over his eyes.

“You talk like a vampire,” Will grumbled.

Nico half-smiled and they lapsed into an unexpectant silence.

Nico wasn’t great at starting conversations. In fact, he was much more likely to sit in utter silence than be the one to initiate a dialog. So, the two of them stayed side by side, and Nico counted the very slow and intentional sounding breaths Will was taking.

Once he reached fifteen, the son of Hades tried again,

“Are you okay?”

He shifted uncomfortably where he sat, not really familiar with the etiquette for checking in on someone. What was he supposed to do with his hands?

Will inhaled, held it, and exhaled slowly before answering.

“I have… a splitting migraine.”

Nico relaxed, nodding sympathetically, but realizing Will couldn’t see him, verbalized, “I hate those.”

“Yeah,” Will scoffed.

Nico forgave his irritability.

“Do you know what triggered it?”

“I mean… stress, I assume…” Will sighed slowly. He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he added, “and the light.”

Nico couldn’t help but chortle at the idea-- but Will shut him down,

“I hear the irony of the guy with sunlight healing magic getting migraines triggered by light, okay,” he snapped.

Nico ceased his chuckling. Woah . He didn’t dare have the next word. If Will didn’t want to talk…

“I’m sorry,” Will sighed after a tense minute, “that sucked.” He groaned in pain and took to scrubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, “This sucks.”

“It’s okay,” Nico said, because it was. He couldn’t help but feel genuinely bad for the son of Apollo.

“Do you want me to make it dark in here?” he offered.

“I already turned off the lights,” Will said flatly, “I think this is as dark as it gets.”

Nico smirked,

“Oh, Will, you have no idea how dark it can get.”

Nico hopped off the top bunk and swiftly got to work. He drew the curtains— every one tied-back and collecting dust by each window. He closed the door to the toilets, and the sunlight coming from the window was shut out with it. He re-positioned the cabin pride flag so it doubled as a shade for the front door.

When Nico returned to the bunk bed, the room was easily 25% darker. And Nico probably wouldn’t admit it, but maybe he did will the shadows to grow longer, leaching the remaining sun from the place - and maybe they obeyed.

The bed creaked beneath Nico’s weight and he settled back in his spot,

“How’s this feel?”

Several moments passed, and as his eyes adjusted, Nico realized with surprise and delight that the only actual source of light in the room… was Will Solace. He couldn’t have made it up if he wanted to. The blond glowed faintly, like a polished bronze statue, casting a soft yellow light an inch or two in every direction around him.

True, it wasn’t pitch black, but it was only because Will Solace literally lit up the room. Nico’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t have been more smitten.

Will didn’t move or respond at first. Several moments passed before he cautiously raised his arm and slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh,” Will said, “wow, you weren’t joking… I did not think it could get dark in here.”

Nico’s lip twitched up, and he deduced that Will must either be unaware of- or unbothered by- his own bioluminescence. He shrugged.

“What can I say? I have a gift.”

“No kidding,” Will said, his voice a bit croaky from exhaustion and pleasantly tinged with sarcasm.

They looked at each other for a second longer than was necessary before both looking away.

Nico cleared his throat, grateful that the darkness probably hid the color in his cheeks,

“What’s stressing you out?”

“Hmm?” Will hummed, massaging the bridge of his nose and closed eyelids.

“You said it seemed like a stress migraine- what’s stressing you out?”

Will sighed deeply. It sounded honest… full of frustration and annoyance and pain.

“There just…it feels like a lot was put on our shoulders recently. Everyone’s shoulders… my shoulders…” his voice cracked and he let the thought drift off, breathing slowly through a shaking voice, “And it’s been harder than usual to keep every demi-god hydrated and healthy during this record heat wave. I spend 50% of my time awake trying to spot signs of heatstroke, and the other 50% worrying about how we’re just supposed to keep going on like this again tomorrow!”

All this spilled out of Will and when he'd finished, nobody moved or spoke. Like Will had spewed his guts and neither of them wanted to step in it. Nico considered everything he’d said, one thing at a time. After several minutes of quiet contemplation, he broke the silence.

“That sounds like a lot for one person to carry, Will.”

More silence, as each of them waited to see who would continue. Will finally did, his voice almost a whisper, and wobbly with emotion.

“…Yeah.”

Nico sat quietly, letting Will sniffle without interruption. After nearly five quiet minutes, Will spoke again.

“Fuck,” he croaked, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, “crying is not helping.”

“Putting ice-packs on your face can sometimes soothe the nerves behind your eyes,” Nico offered.

“Yeah,” Will groaned, “but there hasn’t been an actually cold cold-compress in the cabin cooler since 1995.”

“Well…” Nico thought aloud, “I’m always freezing, maybe if you, like, laid in my lap-” Nico’s words stuck in his throat and he choked, “Or- I didn’t mean- I-I wasn’t trying to- or say- I-I mean…“

Nico wanted to disappear. In fact, he had already resolved to vanish from embarrassment and was nearly opaque when he stopped evaporating into shadows— realizing that, what he thought had been more of Will quietly crying, was actually the blond boy laughing . Will’s chuckling was stuttered, punctuated by soft 'ow's; Nico thought he might implode.

After a minute, and another round of steadying breathing later, the freckled boy at last sighed in a response,

“That sounds kinda nice, actually.”

Nico hesitated. Eventually, though, he collected his wits and realized what he had to do. After a stealing breath, he climbed down from his bed and awkwardly up onto the twin mattress Will occupied. He had to ungracefully shuffle toward the metal headboard, and the taller boy propped himself up on his elbows to give Nico the room to scooch in behind him, before Nico was gently guiding Will’s head back down.

He made every move intentional, his heart beating so loudly in his ears he was sure Will could hear it.

Will’s head was cradled perfectly in Nico’s crossed legs, and Nico could actually feel Will relax against the coolness of his body.

“You’re so cold,” he muttered, “how are you alive?”

“Maybe I’m not cold, maybe you’re just-“ He stopped himself, the words hot perched on the tip of his tongue. His ears burned, “w-weirdly warm.”

Nico’s hands were resting very purposefully on his own knees, careful only to touch Will when and where it was necessary, like repositioning the blond’s head off his knobby ankles. Once both of them were reasonably comfortable, they fell into another expectation-free silence, punctuated only by the muted ambiance of the camp going on outside the windows.

Will’s eyes stayed closed the whole time, and after a peaceful few minutes, he reached up, and gently pulled Nico’s hands off of his knees and eased them over his eyes. Then, to ensure they didn’t move, Will rested his own hands over Nico’s. Nico’s breath hitched at the touch, but then they exhaled in unison.

He didn’t move, even when each point of contact started to feel like a sunburn. He struggled to keep the rest of his breathing even. Will was extremely warm. Almost alarmingly so, Nico thought, but since he hadn’t mentioned anything about feeling feverish, he decided not to worry about it for now. Will was, after all, almost always the warmest person in a room, socially and physically. Nico took a breath and tried to relax his hands, to draw Will’s heat away and replace it with his own numbing cold.

Will let out a sigh through his nose, dropping his hands away to rest once again on his stomach. Nico exhaled in relief, the extra body heat having almost been too much... almost. He didn’t move, opting instead to stay where he was and study the boy in his lap.

Will was damp with sweat, as usual, and a dozen of his curls were sticky and plastered to his forehead and temples. His mouth was relaxed and frowning, and Nico wondered how Will managed to smile as much as he did. Whenever Nico grinned for too long, his face cramped. The disposition Will wore now was much more akin to what the son of Hades wore on a daily basis.

Nico looked over his freckled face a moment longer, tracing the places where their skin met with his eyes. Then, slowly, he moved his hands, folding them over Will’s forehead and scalp, focusing on trying to equalize their body temperatures there as well. They stayed like this for several more minutes.

“This is helping,” Will muttered, “just so you know.”

A smile tugged at Nico’s lips,

“Good.”

After adequate time like that, Nico moved his hands again, this time pressing his fingers to Will’s temples. His thumbs danced just at the edge of his hairline.

Nico’s gaze wandered Will’s face: from his very long, fair eyelashes, to the curve of his nose, to his cheekbones and ears, all positively lousy with freckles. He found constellations along Will’s shoulders.

He barely noticed himself doing it, but before he can stop himself, Nico takes a finger and sweeps a curl that is stuck to Will’s forehead off of his face, and when his fingers return to their place above Will’s cheeks, those eyes— clear and blue as a cloudless sky, even in the darkness— are looking up at him.

Nico freezes, feeling caught. For better or worse, though, his instinct to stand his ground kicks in and he holds Will’s gaze.

And so they find themselves in a silent staring contest. Nico feels too exposed, but is both too stubborn and too scared to look away. Will still looks pained, his forehead wrinkled and his eyebrows pinched, but his expression had softened considerably and he looks… enraptured.

Nico can practically feel his heart hammering against his ribs, and he wants to say something sarcastic about this weird little moment they were having.

“Hey,” he whispers stupidly.

Will instantly smiles, and Nico’s heart does a somersault.

“Hey yourself,” the son of Apollo whispers back.

And then neither of them says anything. They just stare at each other under equally watchful eyes. Will’s eyes go all over the place: Nico’s eyes, his cheeks, his chin, his lips and back again.

Finally, after what seemed like a short eternity, Will eyelids squeeze shut again and he sighs, dramatically. A toothy, slouching grin overtakes the blond’s face, making his nose scrunch up adorably. He shakes his head gently in Nico’s lap and raises his hands, scrubbing at his eyes slowly.

“Sorry,” Will whispered after a while, the goofy looking grin detracting a bit from his sincerity, though not seriously. As if he was trying to convince both of them, he added, “The light.”

Nico noticed for the first time in a while just how brightly Will was shining. He actually felt rather than saw Will’s face growing hotter and he blinked, unable to ignore the glowing feeling in his own chest. He started to wonder if Solace’s luminosity was contagious.

Nico heard that laughter from before, and felt the vibrations travel up from the base of Will’s neck through his crossed ankles. The sensation sent a shudder up his spine. After a moment of baffled silence, Nico realized he too was grinning. Although he had no idea what Will found so funny, it felt ridiculous not to snicker along with him.

He couldn’t really tell at what point his fingers had shifted, but he was now gently grazing the short hairs in front of Will’s ears.

“Gods, fuck , laughing is making it worse too,” Will moaned, grinding his fists into his eyes, although his smile didn’t budge.

“Well then, shut up,” Nico suggested and Will let out an incredulous grunt.

“You shut up, di Angelo.”

“You’re mean when you’re in pain.”

“I learn from the best.”

Nico didn’t know if he was talking about him specifically or generally all of the campers who could not be bothered with politeness on their trips through the infirmary. He’d seen firsthand how thankless the job of keeping everyone healthy could be.

The creak of the cabin’s front door drew his attention and some of the sunlight Nico had worked so hard to block out came spilling back in. He heard a girl’s voice call out.

“Um, can we please come back in here yet-“

“No,” Will and Nico said at the same time.

“But-“

“Go practice your archery, Gracie,” Will called out in warning.

“Yeah, but-“

Will moved the fastest he had since Nico had been in there- shooting upright and hissing loudly at his half-sibling, who yelped and scurried off. The door bounced shut behind her with a loud THWACK.

Will again took up his spot between Nico’s legs, only cracking his eyes open when he felt the shuddering of Nico trying not to openly snicker.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Will whined.

“I can’t believe you hissed at her.”

“I hope she warns the others,” he mutters and Nico really can’t help his chuckling now.

His hands once again find a place to rest over Will’s eyes. Nico lets his gaze wander around the room as they lapse back into silence. Many of the bunks are unmade or half-made, scattered with all the things one might expect Apollo’s children to abandon as they fled the scene: some unstrung bows, notebooks- undoubtedly ripe with some quality teenaged slam poetry, lutes, lyres and- weirdly- a keytar.

He could hear the clanging of swordsmen practicing in the distant arena, shouting and splashing coming from the canoe lake. Nico even heard some kids singing one of those obnoxious camp songs he found fundamentally irritating. Then, he heard the blast of the dinner horn and became aware of how late it had gotten.

Will hadn’t reacted to the sound, and Nico thinks for the second time that he might have dozed off.

“Will,” Nico says quietly, trying to gently jostle the blond with a slight bounce of his legs. Dutifully, he relayed advice he’d heard many times from this very medic: “you should probably eat something.”

Will heaved another long sigh, proving his consciousness, and grumbled grumpily,

“You should probably eat something.”

“How do you come up with all these incredible comebacks?” Nico smirked. Will only grunted. Nico tried again, “How about we both eat something?”

“I think if I move again, I’ll die.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. I’ll bring you something from the dining pavilion.”

He started to move out from beneath the other boy but was stopped by Will’s (still so very warm ) hands on his knees.

“Wait-“

Nico was distinctly aware of every place Will’s fingers touched the bare skin exposed by the rips in his jeans. Those blue eyes were looking at him again and it’s like Nico is caught in a tractor beam, pulled in and unable to move.

“Just stay… another minute.”

Nico is frozen. What could he do? What could he say? The answer- it seemed- was very little, on account of how dry his mouth had suddenly become. “Oh. Uh…” it came out as a whisper. He swallowed, “okay.”

He let himself settle back where he was. Will takes the liberty of moving Nico’s hands back over his eyes and forehead, where they had started, and- like before- left his own palms pressed over top for good measure. Perhaps it was to absorb the icy chill of Nico’s body temperature- like warm fingertips against cool marble. Perhaps it was to ensure he didn’t go anywhere. Nico didn’t know. He didn’t really care.

When he did finally insist he go get them something to eat before the harpies started post-supper clean-up (something any wise demigod was careful to avoid), Will made a real show of how much being moved around was killing him.

“You’ll be fine, Solace, I’ll be right back,” Nico said as he pulled on his boots.

“Don’t forget to-“

“I will burn extra to Apollo for your speedy recovery,” Nico reassured him.

As he was making his way toward the front of the cabin, he thought he heard Will mutter something that sounded eerily like ‘really are an angel.’

“What was that?” Nico called behind him.

“Nothing! Get out of here!”

Nico snickered on his way out the door, and it wasn't until his face started aching half-way to the pavilion that he even realized he was still smiling.

#good evening midnight bloggers here is one of my stories #happy birthday will solace you are real to me #katealot writes #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo

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maccreadysbaby · 6 months ago

Text

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: emeto (vague)

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

SCHOOL NEXT CHAPTER SCHOOL NEXT CHAPTER

part six

❝ TIM DRAKE JR ❞

FRIDAY — JULY 20 — 8:01PM

WHEN DICK INSISTED HE HELP BENTLEY PACK FOR REDWOOD, HE WASN'T EXPECTING HIM TO PACK HIS WHOLE ENTIRE CLOSET.

“I’ve almost got it!” Dick exclaimed. Currently, a giant, old-style suitcase of Tim’s was sitting on Bentley’s bed, way too full to close, and Dick was sitting on top of it, bouncing up and down to try and latch the locks. “Any second now!”

Bentley had been watching him try to close it for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He and Asten were leaving for Redwood tomorrow at eight in the morning — twelve hours exactly. To say Asten was excited would be an understatement. It was the downright happiest Bentley had ever seen him, ever, like Gotham was some big dark cloud that had been looking over his head since he got there. (Which Bentley wouldn’t doubt, since it was a little… sad.)

While Dick worked on the suitcase, Bentley was making sure he had everything he needed, like his laptop, school supplies, and so on, all packed in a backpack. Which hadn’t taken very long, so really he was just kinda watching Dick.

The closer Redwood got, the worse Bentley seemed to feel about it. He was still excited, but now that he was finally registered and obligated to go, being away from Bruce and Dick and everybody for ten whole entire months sounded kind of terrible. Not to mention that he was going to a brand new school with a bunch of new people again. He’d nearly worried himself sick the first time, and he had a sneaking suspicion that this time wouldn’t be all too different.

That’s why he was trying his best not to think about anything. Which was kind of impossible when Redwood seemed to be all everyone in the entire house wanted to talk about.

“-headmistress was… are you even listening to me?”

Bentley glanced up at Dick, who still hadn’t gotten the suitcase closed. “Huh?”

With one final push, the latches on the suitcase clicked into place, and Dick hopped off of it. His blue eyes bounced around Bentley’s face for a few seconds. “What’s up, little B? You’ve been quiet all day. Having second thoughts?”

Bentley shook his head, glancing down at his socks. “No, I want to go.”

“…But?”

With an exhale, he continued: “But ten months is a long time.”

He didn't look up until Dick’s hand landed on his shoulder, meeting his crystalline eyes. “You know you can change your mind, right? Asten can go, and we can find something better for you.”

“But I want to go. I really, really do. I just wish I would stop getting all scared right before I do something. It’s embarrassing,” Bentley said with a huff, crossing his arms. “I’m thirteen, but I still feel like I’m ten. I couldn’t even handle a broken glass at a gala.”

Dick sighed lightly, sitting down on Bentley’s bed so they were a similar height. “There’s no formula or rulebook for growing up, kiddo. Everyone does it differently, and it’s usually not something they choose to do, but… the environments they spent their time in that dictate it.”

Bentley tapped his fingers on his arms. “What do you mean?”

“Like… Tim and Damian grew up fast because it was best for them where they were. Tim had to care for himself. Damian had to act professional. I had all the time in the world to act like a kid, here with Bruce, and sometimes I still feel like one. Jason grew up fast out of necessity. Survival,” Dick explained. “But you… you’re different. You have a story unlike any of us. You only really started living your life three years ago, B. There are so many things you’ve had to learn and work through that you didn’t get for the first ten years. I’d say having a little anxiety about being away from your first real family is to be expected, and it doesn’t undermine the fact that you’re maturing and becoming an amazing teenager.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but glanced down at his socks again. “But I feel so young when I’m with other teenagers. I don’t get what they’re talking about, I don’t understand what they’re laughing at. I noticed it with Asten and Nico when Nico lived here, but now that we’re older it’s… just getting worse. I always feel like I’m missing something, like they’re having to dumb down what they’re saying for me. Or they just give up and don’t try to explain it. I know I’m not dumb, at least with actual school stuff, but when it comes to, like, talking to people, I feel… really stupid.”

Dick nodded to himself. “Do you have an example?”

Bentley shrugged, sitting on the bed next to him with a poof. “Like, one time Asten said something about a one night stand. I didn’t know what that was, and I still don’t know what it is. Nico freaked out so it seemed like a big deal but they wouldn’t explain it to me. And the other day at the gala, the lady talking to Bruce was saying something that sounded… I don’t know, weird. So weird Bruce wanted me to leave, but I don’t know why. I thought about it for a long time and still didn’t understand it. But I’m sure Asten would. He always calls me innocent when that kind of thing happens, but I don’t even think I understand that right, because I thought innocent meant you didn’t commit a crime.”

Dick sighed heavily and put his hand back on Bentley’s shoulder. “Hear me when I say this, Bentley. You might not get what people are saying, and you might feel dumb, but being innocent is a gift. It means you haven’t been introduced to the same things other kids have — the things they shouldn’t necessarily have been introduced to yet. And being innocent doesn’t mean you’re dumb or socially inept or even awkward. It means you haven’t been in a place to be introduced to those things before you should. And I know someone else who is really, really smart that is also considered innocent in a very similar way to you.”

“Who?” Bentley questioned, glancing over at him.

“Damian. The circumstances aren’t the same, but I can confidently say that he’s struggled with this exact thing before, nearly word for word. And I’ll tell you exactly what I told him,” Dick stated, smiling lightly. “It’s good not to be like everybody else. And you don’t have to understand all the jokes or do all the same things as other teenagers to be a perfectly amazing, maybe even better one yourself. I know for a fact that you can keep up with kids your age and older when it comes to things that matter. I mean, look at the things you’ve done, B. You’re more brave and loyal and determined than any kid I’ve ever met in my whole entire life. And that honestly can not be said about a lot of today’s teenagers.”

Bentley sighed, glancing down at his sweatpants with a little nod.

“And I can guarantee you'll find kids with the exact same dilemma at Redwood. Probably more than you think,” Dick smiled, patting Bentley on the back. “But here’s the thing; if you’re really having second thoughts, don’t force yourself to go just to prove that you can. We will find something else for you if that’s what you want. In a heartbeat. We’ll tour campuses and look into homeschooling options for the rest of the year if you give us the word. We might have opinions, but you are the only one who truly knows what’s best for you.”

Bentley took a breath. He might’ve been a teenager in age, but in everything else, he was young. Too young. If innocence was a gift, why didn’t it feel like one?

He didn’t want to be innocent anymore, he wanted to be normal. No matter how many times Dick Grayson told him it was okay to be different, it would never, ever change the fact that all he wanted to be was a normal kid. He was so tired of not being normal.

If Bentley didn’t know anything else, he knew this: highschool was the best place to stop being innocent and start being normal.

“I want to go,” He stated with a nod. “I want to.”

“Are you guys coming, or what? We’re going to start King Fu Panda without you!” Asten’s voice bounced up the stairs and down the hallway.

Bentley and Dick shared a look, then small smiles.

“I love you, babybird,”

Bentley smiled. “I love you, too.”

—

Bentley didn’t like Kung Fu Panda.

Okay, he wasn’t really sure if he liked it or not, he didn’t pay very much attention. He was too busy thinking about being in Manhattan alone in the morning.

He’d have seven roommates. Not technically in the same bedroom as him, but in the same shared space, which was kind of intimidating. The Headmistress said they’d be chosen for them by age and personality, but Bentley and Asten both had very different ages and very different personalities. What if he was stuck with a bunch of sixteen year olds? Or what if Asten was stuck with a bunch of thirteen year olds? To be completely honest, Bentley thought he might die if he had to room with seven variations of Asten. Sometimes he could hardly handle the one.

And what if they didn’t like one of the roommates? The video spoke about roommate changes, but that seemed complicated, and Bentley definitely wasn’t going to be the kid that requested one, then nobody would like him. What if somebody wanted him to leave? Or worse, Asten? What if he got left alone with all the strangers and Asten had to go somewhere else?

And classes. They’d filled out their classes at registration, but Asten and Bentley hadn’t picked all the same things. That meant they wouldn’t be together all day. Which was fine, Bentley could deal with that, he did it at Gotham Academy. But this time he’d be in Manhattan alone and he couldn’t just call Bruce if something went weird because Bruce was two and a half hours away and couldn’t come get him for something inconvenient. So if Bentley decided to have a panic attack, he’d have to interrupt Asten’s class and call Asten. Or worse, go with the stranger nurse.

And the Redwood campus was massive. What if Bentley got lost? He already hardly knew the buildings from one another and they all looked the same and what if he couldn’t read the map? And Asten was going to a different class? Then he’d be lost alone, in front of a bunch of random people. And what did they do when he got sick? Did he get sent home, or did he stay in the nurse’s office until he was better? Because Redwood Academy was a boarding school, not a day school.

And teachers — what if he didn’t like his teachers? What if they were mean? What if they didn’t like him? What if one of them ended up being a psycho scientist that was trying to turn them all into metahumans? Could that even work twice? Could Bentley even survive that twice? And he’d have to make friends, which wasn’t very easy.

So, yeah. He was pretty terrified. Pretty horrified. Pretty stressed out.

Pretty stressed out and horrified and terrified enough that when it was time for bed after a few installments of Kung Fu Panda and a bedtime slightly past midnight, Bentley was a wreck.

(But did he tell anybody? In true Bentley fashion, of course not!)

He just sat in his bedroom to ride it out alone. After all, he was thirteen, he shouldn’t be doing this whole terrified anxiety thing anymore.

So for a while, he watched some nonsense on tv. He didn’t end up paying attention, so he did some nonsense on his phone that he didn’t pay attention to, either. He ignored the fact that his hands were shaking. He pretended his stomach wasn’t in knots and that he wasn’t one perfectly placed statement away from probably crying. (He shouldn’t be like this anymore, he shouldn’t. He was fine. He was thirteen and being anxious was embarrassing and he was fine.)

He continued to not watch tv and not play on his phone until his clock read 4:17am. Then he decided he should sleep, so he laid there and tossed and turned and tossed and turned until the clock hit 4:29am.

That’s when he realized his brilliant idea to ignore everything had become a pretty terrible one, because he was, in fact, not ignoring anything, and had instead been thinking about it nonstop for literally five hours.

With a huff of annoyance, Bentley sat up and grabbed an old, half-empty water bottle from his nightstand and took a sip, staring at his stupid clock.

And then it all went south.

As in, as soon as he swallowed the water, his anxiousness came with a vengeance and he threw it up again all over the hardwood floor.

For a moment, he was in brief shock and kind of pretty pissed about it. He hadn’t thrown up from being anxious since he lived with his father, and now this? This was what ruined him? School?

“Are you kidding me?” He whispered just soft enough that no one should’ve been able to hear. Any fear or uncomfortableness that came with puking left immediately, it’s place taken by utter and sheer annoyance.

With an eye-roll and a groan, he threw his covers off with a huff and stood up, flicking his lamp on. At least it wasn’t on the rug or his sweatpants, he guessed.

Why couldn’t he just be normal? Asten wasn’t in his room throwing up right now, was he? He was sleeping, like every normal person in the world. And Bentley was hopscotching over freaking puke.

It was four thirty in the morning, and he was over it. Over himself, over anxiety, over puking, over being awake, over being such a pitiful little excuse of a human that the prospect of school made him barf. Over feeling so bad and having his days ruined because he was so terrified over something that should’ve been exciting. Why did he have to be like this?

Deciding that he was wholeheartedly pissed at himself, he acted like it. He marched into the bathroom with as much of an attitude as he dared (lest some bat smell it), flicked the lights on, and grabbed some gray towels out from under the sink all angry-like. (Bentley didn’t do that much, and it felt kind of weird. But he was also freaking pissed, so the weird felt kinda good.)

He went back to the bedroom with a huff and another eye-roll (because it was kind of fun, and he didn’t dare do it to an actual person.), piling the towels on the puke and doing a very teenage-angsty job of cleaning it up. (Okay, he cleaned good, but he was angsty while he did it.)

Once that was done and he had some very dirty towels on the floor, he just looked at them.

If he left them in his empty laundry basket, someone would find them. Plus, they’d probably make his room smell. And then everyone would know he was pathetic and had puked over school. He could take them straight to the washer and figure out how to use it — but he’d have to be really quiet. It was risky, given that Tim and Damian were light sleepers, and they were right near him.

But he’d rather run the risk than have them find out in the morning.

So, with another huff of frustration, Bentley folded up the gross towels in such a way that he wouldn’t get dirty, gathered them into his arms, and made for the door.

He opened it real slow, and real steadily. (It squeaked if he went too fast.) The hallway was dark and silent. They hadn’t patrolled tonight, since it was Asten and Bentley’s last night in the Manor, which somehow only seemed to make things worse.

He stepped out into the hall and pulled his door almost all the way shut, that way only a sliver of light was peeking through. And after standing there for a moment to make sure he didn’t hear anyone, he made for the stairs.

The very first step squealed like a pig.

With a deep inhale and exhale that was him trying to not drown the entire house because he was pissed, (did he mention he was pissed, by the way?) he kept walking down the stairs.

And then he heard a door open.

“Bentley? What are you doing?”

He glanced back, and just as he’d expected, Mister Timothy Drake, CEO of life and smartest person ever, emerged into the hallway. He was wearing a red hoodie and some sweatpants that looked a little too big, and it didn’t seem like he’d been asleep.

Bentley quickly turned away, muttering: “Nothing.”

Bentley felt Tim’s eyes on him. “Are you doing laundry at four-thirty in the morning?”

“… Maybe?” He muttered, staring down at the towels in his hand. “I… need it for school.”

He heard Tim’s footsteps come closer. “You need towels for school?”

Bentley huffed, feeling pretty dumb. “I’m gonna have to take showers.”

Tim’s footsteps got even closer, and after a second when Bentley didn't turn around (lest Tim see the grossness on the towels), he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bentley snapped, turning to glare at Tim before he got his wits about him and realized that was rude. (He was on a freaking roll wasn’t he?)

He sighed at himself, at life, at everything, turning and continuing down the stairs. Unsurprisingly, he heard Tim’s footsteps echoing at the same time as his own.

“I’m pretty sure a super mega rich school like Redwood will have some towels,” Tim said from behind him. “Do you even know how to use the washer?”

No, he freaking didn’t, just another thing to add to the list of stuff that was currently making Bentley mad.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned at the bottom of the stairs and went toward the laundry room.

“Bentley,” Tim said again, and when Bentley didn’t stop, he sped up. “Bentley, hey, stop.”

Tim grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around so they were face to face, his icy eyes bouncing around on the towels, and then on Bentley. “You got sick?”

“No,” Bentley replied, jerking his shoulder out of Tim’s hand. “Just leave me alone.”

“So then you spilled a bunch of soup in your room at four thirty in the morning? There aren't a bunch of cover story options here,” Tim suggested, and instead of replying, Bentley turned and continued down the hall to the very dark end where the laundry room was. Blinking. Breathing. Ignoring the fact that he was starting to hear water in the pipes. (Tim’s footsteps kept following him, despite his valiant efforts at willing them away.)

“Bentley, just stop. Stop for a second,” Tim suggested. Bentley didn’t stop until he made it to the laundry room and dropped the gross towels in a basket, cringing at them.

He turned back to Tim with a defeated look on his face, crossing his arms over his chest. He only looked at him for a moment — the front of Tim’s black hair was hanging down toward his icy eyes that somehow looked shiny and dull and young and old and tired and awake all at once. Bentley was almost as tall as him now — maybe only a head shorter. He sighed lightly, looking down at the cold tile beneath his socks.

(This was so embarrassing.)

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tim questioned, shifting his weight to one side.

Bentley sighed heavily, again. What was the use in trying to hide it if Tim already knew?

He drew a line on the floor with his toes. “I did. Get sick,” He mumbled sheepishly, nearly inaudibly. “And I’m so mad about it. Mad that I can’t be normal, that I’m always terrified about everything that isn’t even actually scary. And now you know, and then Bruce is going to know, and then everyone’s going to know Bentley was so freaked out about school that he freaking puked in the floor-“

“Hey,”

“-I feel so dumb and stupid all of the time around everybody and all this anxiety just makes it worse and worse. Like I’m some kind of baby. And I’m not a baby, but I really freaking feel like it. And now I’m just mad, and I don’t want to be mad, I just want to be asleep, but no, can’t do that, my body’s going to make me puke instead like some puny little kid. I hate being terrified every time something big is happening. It’s all stupid and irrational and dumb but I can never stop thinking-“

Tim stepped forward and hugged him, very suddenly, which halted Bentley mid-sentence.

For a moment, he just kind of blinked.

Okay, so, yeah, this wasn’t very Tim-like behavior. But it was… well, it was kind of nice, so Bentley decided to let it slide.

“I just want to be done feeling like this,” He muttered, sounding awfully young, finally bringing his arms up and hugging him back. “How did you stop feeling like this?”

He felt Tim’s hand move, resting on the back of his head. “I didn’t.”

“Hmm?” Bentley hummed.

“Wanna know why I wasn’t asleep?” Tim questioned. “Because I have a presentation tomorrow afternoon in front of some very important investors. Couldn’t sleep. I thought about it the whole time we were watching Kung Fu Panda, too.”

Bentley snickered lightly. “I guess we’re gonna have to watch that some other time then, huh?”

Tim snickered. “Guess so.”

For a moment, they just stood there.

“Just so you know, anxiety doesn’t just go away. And you’re not failing or backsliding because you have it. That’s something I had to work through when I was your age, too,”

Bentley exhaled, resting his head against Tim’s shoulder. “It feels like I am. Failing; backsliding.”

“You’re not. You’re not letting it change your decisions, no matter how anxious you are — and that is very important. I’m proud of you for it,” Tim explained, rubbing his back lightly with one hand. “When it starts going wrong is when you start letting it dictate your decisions.”

Bentley nodded. “Okay…” (He was pretty sure that, besides the pep talk, Tim was also working to put him to sleep. Because he was suddenly pretty tired and this hug wasn’t exactly keeping him awake.)

Oh, well. He’d done it to Tim before, too.

Tim patted his back with a snicker. “We should probably go to bed before the sun comes up.”

“Probably,”

Tim pulled away from the embrace and smiled lightly at him. “You can come to my room, if you want. Might be good for us both.”

Bentley nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them began to venture back toward the stairs.

“And Bentley?”

“Hm?”

Tim smiled. “It'd probably be in your best interest if you stopped getting more and more like me.”

(He never put the towels in the washer.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

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