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everythingisromant1c · 6 months ago

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It's Always Been You - Chapter 10

james potter x fem!reader

summary - In all the excitement—or horror, to you—of the week, including the rumors that were still spreading rapid-fire around school, or your supposed best friend James's mysteriously terrible mood, you'd almost forgotten: the time had finally come for you to go on your date in Hogsmeade.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 9 - Chapter 11 ->

Maybe your best friend's unexplainable foul mood had been the reason that sleep came difficult to you that night, or maybe it was the fact that the clock in your brain was counting down until the time the sun would rise. The time when morning would come and you'd take that carriage ride over to Hogsmeade with the boys like you'd promised, and have to find Sebastian to go on your date with him. Your date. It still didn't feel real.

You didn't know if anything you'd done in the past could truly be qualified as an official date, one you could refer back to that morning as you finally saw sunlight through your window and knew you'd have to get ready. Luckily, you had two of the best girls you knew for friends, and they were set on helping you.

"I'm telling you, it's the first dress." Marlene nodded her head at you with wide, excited eyes, as you held two different dresses still on hangers up to your neck. "I mean are you kidding? It's one hundred percent your color, and you look sexy as hell in it."

Your jaw dropped at her antics. "Marlene," you cooed nervously.

"I mean it. Sebastian's not gonna be able to keep his hands off of you when he sees you."

You covered your face with your hands, half because you were embarrassed, and half because you didn't need Lily and Marlene to see you spiraling at the thought of what Marlene had just suggested. You'd been so caught up with, well, everything going on, that you hadn't even considered what going on a date truly entailed. What if he wanted to kiss you?

"Then you kiss him back," Marlene said easily as you voiced your question aloud. She stopped herself. "But only if you want to, of course."

"Yeah," Lily agreed, placing down a pair of nice shoes with a short but elegant heel on them that you'd forgotten you'd owned on the floor next to you. "Only do something if you want to do it. Don't let him pressure you into doing anything you don't want to. Even if it's as simple as holding your hand."

"Thank you guys, I know." You set the dress you were planning on wearing on the bed beside you, fiddling with the hanger pensively. "Holding his hand would be nice, I think." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, sitting down on the blanketed mattress. "To be honest, I don't know what I want." The two girls came to stand closer to you as you spoke. "I mean, Sebastian's a great guy and all, but do I even know him all that well?" Your mind traveled back to all the interactions you'd had with him. "What if I only said yes to go out with him because he asked me during the middle of that prank and I panicked and-"

"You need to relax," Lily said, voice firm but comforting at the same time. "You're just freaked out because it's the morning of. You're gonna have a great time." She shrugged a shoulder. "And if things don't click, then it wasn't meant to be. It's not the end of the world. "

"Exactly," the blonde said from next to her. "Don't let Potter's nonsense-spewing mouth ruin this date for you."

You'd filled them in the night before on all that'd been going on with James for the past few days, minus the few intimate 'almosts' that you'd shared with him that'd been dangerously playing in your mind even when you begged them to stop.

"Trust me," you said. "I'm trying not to."

"I still can't believe he's acting like this." Lily shook her head agitatedly. "And just when I was starting to think he might be maturing."

You nodded grievingly. "I would defend his honor to you, Lily, but I don't feel much like doing that right now."

"Maybe it's for the best." She breathed out a dry laugh. "Anyways, I suppose," she sighed. "Are you finished in the bathroom? I need to use the loo."

You snorted. "Yeah, all yours."

She shot you an overly excited grin and slipped into the bathroom, the door shutting behind her. All the while, Marlene took a seat on the bed next to you, something glimmering behind her eyes that told you she had ideas she wanted to voice.

You stared at her half amusedly, half hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Did you ever think, during all your bickering, why Potter has such a problem with you going on this date?"

You sighed. That was all you could think about. You tipped your head at her, knowing where this conversation was going to lead. "Yeah," you said plainly. "Because he's set on the five of us spending every Hogsmeade trip together until we die."

"Or maybe," she argued, "it's because he's jealous."

You dropped your shoulders, shaking your head as you stared at her. "You're not serious."

The blonde stared back at you with an equal amount of fire. "I so am."

You laughed to yourself, perhaps deprecatingly. "The only thing James could be jealous about is the free butterbeer I'll probably be getting."

"Don't be dense."

"I'm not being dense. I'm being realistic." You puffed out a breath. "I know James. Well enough to know that, after we ..." you trailed off. "After the party, when he disappeared, he was freaked out because I'd scared him off. And he knows me too. I didn't have to tell him for him to figure out that I'd ... felt something for him. Something that he obviously was uncomfortable talking about, so I've spared him the trouble and moved on. That's the end of it." You picked up the dress you'd laid on the bed as you heard Lily washing her hands in the bathroom. "It has to be."

Marlene regarded you for a few seconds, maybe scoping out how genuine you were. "Like you said," she shrugged, "you know him best."

You nodded, ending the conversation as Lily exited the bathroom. Though the more this week went on, you believed that fact less and less.

You soon were leaving the sides of both Lily and Marlene after the walk down to the horseless carriages in front of the school, dozens of them stationed there to take everyone down to Hogsmeade.

The air was especially crisp for a September evening, making you think to yourself that maybe bringing a jacket would have been a smart choice, especially in the dress you were wearing, but your brain soon became occupied by other thoughts. Thoughts that were centered around the sight of your four friends standing around an unoccupied carriage in the distance, probably waiting for you.

You took a breath in, and then another one. You were completely devoted to ensuring this would be a drama-free carriage ride, no matter what, or who, tried to stop that from happening. You made your way over to the four boys, two of their backs turned to you. You tapped the long-haired one, of course Sirius, on the shoulder.

"You didn't think you were going to leave without me, did you?" you smirked up at him.

He had a wry smile on his face as he turned to you, surely ready with a quip to send back your way, but that smile left as he saw you, his eyes quickly scanned over you.

"Wow," he blanched. Then a sparkling grin took over his features. "You certainly clean up nice."

You crinkled your forehead at his remark and amused smirk until Remus cut in. "What he means is," corrected the sandy-haired boy from next to him. "You look beautiful. Seriously."

You felt your face begin to heat at the four pairs of eyes all now observing you as you stood there in your dress. You were surprised they weren't poking more fun at you than just Sirius's single obvious remark. You couldn't remember the last time you were this dressed up in front of them.

"Thanks," you muttered gratefully. "Now stop gushing and let's get a move on, yeah?"

Remus shook his head at your reaction but hid his laugh, taking an effortless step onto the high carriage, Peter quietly behind him. Sirius made a move to ruffle your hair, which you dodged easily and shot him a glare. He chuckled, making his way over to the carriage as well. That left only you and James.

You turned to him finally, expecting him to be avoiding your eyes as he'd done for the past few days, but instead found him looking straight at you, hazel eyes and all. You didn't know what to do under his gaze which you'd grown somewhat unused to, so you settled on doing nothing at all. You were still holding your grudge over how he'd been acting and weren't quick to forget about it. You were fully expecting him to do the same and say nothing to you at all.

"You do," he said suddenly, and at the confused quirk of your brow, softly added, "Look beautiful, I mean."

You paused, somewhat taken aback by both his words and the genuine tinge of his eyes. You didn't know how James could hold eye contact so easily, especially when he'd been so set on doing just the opposite lately.

"Oh," you voiced quietly, and couldn't help the way the corners of your lips tilted upwards. "Thanks."

He nodded wordlessly and the two of you turned back to the carriage that held your three other friends, clearly able to hear and see your conversation. You eyed the tall wooden floor of the carriage before you and then the high cut of your dress, and then your shoes. As if reading your mind, a firm hand held itself out in front of you.

You peaked your head over to the source of the hand: James, who looked at you expectantly, a certain air to him that was both light and heavy. You regarded him and his hand for a split second, deciding there was no harm in taking it, and did, your fingers slipping over his steadying palm as you took the large step into the carriage. And maybe you were imagining it, but you felt the ghost of his fingers delicately shadowing your lower back as you steadied yourself into your seat, James following from behind.

He sat across from you and you avoided looking at him as you fought reacting to the feeling that ran through you, like you were still on some kind of high from his touch. It only made you mad to think about, so you decided not to, looking elsewhere instead as the carriage began moving seemingly on its own.

It'd only taken a few moments for the Hogwarts castle to be only a beautiful shrinking sight in the distance, and for the scenery of the early fall to take over your senses instead. You were sat in front of James, who sat next to Peter, the blonde looking rather sickly and lost in troubling thoughts.

"Pete," you called curiously. "You alright? You look pale."

The boy in question turned to you with worry behind his eyes, but he only nodded. "Yeah, I'm great," he said, voice rather shaky for someone who was 'great.'

"He's just nervous about his date." Sirius reached across the carriage to pat Peter on his shoulder, shaking him a little in his frail state. "You've got nothing to be worried about, mate."

"Yeah, Sirus is right," you agreed. "Remember, she asked you out because she wanted to spend time with you as you already are. Just be yourself."

Sirius nodded, before shifting his focus to you. "And what about you? You nervous for your date with Vance?"

You shrugged. "Maybe before, but I think I'm alright now." You smiled thinly. "I already talked it out with Lily and Marlene in our dorm getting ready."

"So that's what you ladies do up there?" Sirius asked, and you frowned. "Thought there'd be more pillowfights in your underwear."

You made a nauseated expression as Sirius grinned at his own joke. "You're disgusting," you scolded, though Peter had let a smile overtake his face at the joke and you figured maybe it was worth it.

Remus was shaking his head as well from next to you, the corners of his mouth teasing upwards. You turned forward again, James straight in your line of vision, but it didn't even seem he was listening to the conversation at hand, head aimed out the side of the carriage. He looked more distant than ever as he sat tensely and you had to fight the urge to reach out to him. You knew all too well what would come from that.

You let your focus slip onto other things, like the wind that was brushing against your exposed arms and moving your hair slightly in the wind. You fought a shiver, bringing your hands up to rub at the sides of your arms—you were sure you had goosebumps.

For the second time that morning, like he was reading your mind, you watched as James held out his arm towards you, though this time he was holding something in his hand instead: his coat. It was brown on the outside, a light jacket that was lined with a soft flannel fabric, one that you always thought looked dashing on him. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to take it.

You faltered from surprise and then shook your head. "I'm alright," you said softly, pursing your lips.

"You're practically shivering," James pointed out, tipping out his chin at you. "Just take it."

"I don't want to take your own jacket from you, James. It's chilly."

"Exactly," he said, catching you in your lie. "And you're not taking it from me, I'm giving it to you."

You looked up from the jacket he was offering, if you could call it an offer, and at him, seeing the stubborn hold of his jaw and yet the sincere gloss of his eyes. Because you knew he wouldn't let you say no anyway now that you'd admitted it was chilly, you took it from his hand.

You wrapped the too-big coat over your shoulders, grateful but perhaps hateful of the way it immediately warmed you like the lighting of a fireplace. It smelt warm and comforting like a fireplace too, or maybe that was just the fact that it was James's jacket and he always smelled strangely nice. You blinked at yourself, chasing away your thoughts that were certainly not appropriate, considering you were currently on your way to a date with a different boy.

In all your thinking, it was like you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You looked up again, but James already had gone back to staring out at the moving scenery. You couldn't read him right then, and if there was anything you'd learned about James from all the years you'd known him, it was that you could always read him, even when others couldn't. The fact that you hadn't been able to read him for days was worrying you sick and setting you off all at once. You just wished you could get inside his head.

You sighed, your eyes shifting over to Remus, who was giving you the oddest of looks. The corners of his eyes crinkled, though his lips stayed shut together. You raised a brow and he only shrugged, looking away again. You really needed to get inside that boy's head, too.

Before you could even mull over the different possibilities of ways that your up-and-coming date could go wrong, a habit of your mind that you hated, the carriage had pulled up into Hogsmeade. It came to a slow stop next to the uniquely shaped brick buildings you'd become all too familiar with over the years. That didn't take away from the excitement bubbling inside your stomach—or maybe that was nervousness; you couldn't tell anymore.

All five of you exited the carriage, James offering you his hand again as you took the big step onto the ground. You were growing too frustrated to even consider the feeling of your hand in his larger one that somehow was still as warm as the jacket you wore. How he could be so sweet yet so aggravatingly aloof you didn't know, but you forced your mind off the topic once again. Only, you couldn't force thoughts of James away completely, because he was calling your name as soon as you'd walked past him.

Your head turned to him so swiftly it almost made you dizzy. He was standing there along the side of a building you identified as The Three Broomsticks, hands now shoved into his trouser pockets with his head slightly tipped forward, though he stood up straighter as you made your way to him.

"Yeah?" you questioned, and maybe your tone was testy, but you didn't have it in you to alter it for his sake.

James shifted his footing underneath your gaze, taking a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

The pull of your brows let up at his words and you observed his facial expressions shamelessly, sorting through what to say. Luckily, he spoke again before you could.

"I'm sorry for making you take the carriage ride into Hogsmeade with the rest of us. You should've just gone with your date. I was just in an ... off mood last night. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

And just like that, the hope you were harboring when James had first uttered the word 'sorry' had bubbled and churned inside of you until all that was left was dissatisfaction.

"Is that all?" you questioned.

James's lips parted. "What?"

"I mean, I'm grateful for your apology," you breathed the word like it left a foul taste in your mouth. "But is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Apologize for?"

James scratched his head almost comically, and you laughed without any humor as you began to turn around. Before you could take a single step, James grasped your wrist in his fingertips, and you fought not to notice how feather-light he held onto you.

"Like what?" he asked you, and at your stone expression he dropped your hand. "Please," he insisted.

You swallowed and shrugged up your shoulders irritatedly. "Oh, I don't know James, maybe the fact that you've been acting 'off' this whole week and won't say a word as to why?" You took the hand he'd held and put it to your forehead. "I've probably asked you if you were okay about a dozen times and all you can say to me is that you're 'fine' when you're clearly ticked off."

"Because that's the truth," James insisted.

"Please," you remarked. "It's not the truth. Don't lie to me, James. I know you. Better than anyone else, and I know when you're upset about something."

"I'm not upset, alright?" James squinted at you. "Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because!" You took a breath in, trying to calm yourself because this was not the drama-free morning you wanted to have. "Because, every time I've been down, which has been too many times to count, you've been there for me. Always."

You thought back to the night you realized you loved him as more than just a friend, when he'd comforted you through your tears so quickly and sweetly, and it only made you feel more exasperated.

"So I'm not just going to 'let it go' when something's so obviously bothering you, enough to make you act completely differently to the point where you won't even talk to me." You paused, noticing the sinking in James's gaze the more you spoke. "And quite frankly," you continued, "it hurts like hell that you don't think you can tell me what's been going on, because you can. We're supposed to be best friends, remember?"

James let out a low breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff that had your forehead pulling. "Trust me, I remember."

"Then why the hell won't you just talk to me?" Your palms were facing him, telling him it was his move, his turn to try and fix things.

"Because there's nothing to say." He'd thrown away his turn without a second glance, running a fast hand through his hair. "God, this was a mistake. Every time I talk to you, I just-" he stopped himself.

Your heart was beating hard in your chest. "You just what?"

James shook his stubborn head, a muscle in his jaw noticeably flexing. "Nothing, alright?" He looked upwards, like he was battling something greater than him, and began walking towards wherever the hell James Potter went when he didn't want to talk to you. You weren't going to let him.

"How long are you going to keep doing this for, James?" He halted his steps, turning his head back towards you with a rigid look in his eyes. "How long are you going to avoid me?"

"Avoid you?" he laughed, and you froze. "That's rich, coming from you of all people."

You clamped your jaw shut for a beat, blinking at him as your mind started to spin. "What are you talking about?" You knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm talking about when you were avoiding me just a few days ago. Ring a bell?"

You lowered your gaze, confidence stuttering. You didn't respond.

"I mean, you wouldn't even partner with me Defense Against the Dark Arts, for Merlin's sake."

"That was different," you argued, though you were ashamed of how pathetic the words sounded coming from your lips.

"How?" James asked, staring at you fearlessly now with raised, expectant brows and an unmoving jaw.

"It ... it just is!" You looked away. "We're getting off track. My point was that ... I just miss you, James." The irony of your warm words contrasted with the angry shake of your lips didn't escape you. "I miss the James who wouldn't push me away every time I tried to have a conversation with him, or who wouldn't act like a bloody child every time I mention I'm going on a date."

If you thought you saw a crack of guilt racking James's expression, there was no trace of it now.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned, his tone colder than you'd ever heard it. "I'm sorry I don't like talking about your beloved Sebastian every five minutes."

"Well it's not like I can talk to you about anything else, can I?" Your heart was thumping in your chest and you felt like crying. "You know what?" You chewed on the inside of your cheek, turning away. "I give up! Let's just talk whenever you're ready to be honest with me."

Your back was to him when he shouted, "You want me to be honest?" You scoffed, nodding your head. "That's what you want?" he repeated.

"Yes James!" you shouted. "That's exactly what I want!"

"Well then, fine!" He wiped a desperate hand over his face, throwing up his arms. "We kissed, alright?"

Your heart sizzled somewhere in your chest beneath your stilled lungs, every part of you halting its movements. Your expression fell slowly and you blinked at him, staring wordlessly for a moment. "What?"

James stared back at you, looking at you more than he'd looked at you in the past week altogether. The opposite of yours, his chest heaved up and down like he'd been fighting for air and could only now come up for oxygen. He didn't look like he'd misspoken and that scared you more than anything.

"We kissed. Last week. At the party."

Your lips hung, parted and confused. "What are you-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. We kissed, and you ran off, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since."

Your eyes felt like they had a mind of their own, scanning rapidly over James and then looking at the ground, your heeled shoes, anywhere but at him because your world was shifting around you, the walls of what you thought you knew crumbling down on you.

You swallowed, throat going dry. "James," you voiced carefully. "That kiss was ..." you shook your head. "We were playing a game."

Maybe he would take the slowness of your words for sureness rather than struggle, because that along with seemingly every other emotion was what you were feeling inside.

"No, c'mon. Don't do that." James shook his head back at you and you felt like running away, but you couldn't now. Not when he was looking at you like that. "Don't try and make it seem like that was all it was, because it wasn't. Not for me, and I know it meant more to you too."

The cool breeze from before had picked up and was turning into an inexorable wind that made you feel worse than you already did. Could he see the way you had to stop yourself from shaking? Hear the way you willed your heartbeat to stop pounding? Clearly not, because he kept talking.

"For days, weeks even, all that's been on my mind was you. Do you know how hard it is to get anything done when all I can think about is my best friend kissing me?"

You felt dizzy with the way he was staring into your eyes. Like you'd voiced to yourself a million times, how James held eye contact so effortlessly was a mystery you'd never find the answer to.

"And I know you said you wanted to just pretend like the kiss never happened, but you should know that I can't do that, alright? Trust me. I've tried, and obviously that didn't work." He ran a hand through his tousled hair again. "So I just ... I need you to say something to me. Anything."

You willed yourself to speak again, blood rushing past your ears now. "I ... I don't know what to say. It was a part of a game."

James practically flinched. "Anything but that." He breathed out a laugh without any chest, tipping his head back and taking steps around. "God."

You still felt like crying, because nothing was making sense. Then James refocused on you, and you felt pinned underneath his gaze.

"You can tell me it was part of a game however many times you want." His words were achingly slow and desperate. "But tell me ... just tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed. That it meant absolutely nothing to you, and I'll stop talking. I promise."

You knew he meant what he said; you could see it all through his hazel eyes. You'd asked for honesty and you'd gotten it. You knew that you couldn't lie to him anymore, and you said your truth with your voice was on the verge of breaking.

"I can't." Even if your voice shook, James heard it loud and clear. He stopped moving and stepped closer to you whether he noticed or not. "But that doesn't mean it can mean anything now."

If it was possible, he went even more still. His eyes pleaded with you to say more to him, so you did. "It's not fair, James." Your voice broke off, and James took both your hands in his, and held them tight near his chest, like hope pumped through them.

"What? What's not fair, Love?"

You flinched at the name you hadn't heard in seemingly forever, but it pinched at the part of your brain that remembered it vividly. You didn't know how this moment was real. You looked down at his hands that engulfed yours. "It's not fair that it meant something, because it can't."

You pretended not to notice the way James's hands loosened their hold. "Not when-" your voice hitched at the sign of your eyes blurring despite how much you'd willed them not to. "Not after I spent months—years, even—trying to make every interaction between us mean something. After I spent all that time trying to get over you! It- it's not fair, and I won't do it. I won't."

You shook your head timidly and repeatedly like it would stop what was happening. You didn't know when you and James had moved away from each other, probably somewhere between your voice breaking and your eyes watering, but you had. But that wasn't was most important.

James had gone eerily still, painfully silent. That didn't change the fact that his unforgiving eyes continued to search what seemed like every inch of your face. His voice rang out lowly.

"Get over me?" His heavy brows furrowed in hurt and bewilderment. "Wh-" he choked. "What do you mean 'get over me'?"

You put a hand to your head, amused in your disbelief. "Like you haven't known."

James took a persistent step forward, the pinch between his brows desperate. "What the hell are you talking about?"

This all felt like a bad dream you couldn't wake up from. You forced yourself to breathe. "I really can't do this right now, I-" You didn't think you could do it ever. You pulled at the hem of your dress. "I have a date."

Even with the wind whipping against you both, you'd never heard a silence like the one you did right then.

"You're really still going on that date?" James peered at you interrogatingly, his eyes slightly red now, and it killed you.

"What am I supposed to do, James?"

You wiped at your nose. James's hands were elevated at his sides like he wanted to reach out to you, but didn't. He looked like he didn't know what he wanted to do, but he didn't stop.

"You can't just go running away all because ..." he panted, "because..." His voice trailed off.

You wanted to shout at him that all you'd done since forever was stop yourself from running away, but you didn't. It wasn't his fault you'd tortured yourself all these years. But that didn't mean he could get his happy ending with the snap of his fingers, either.

Just to twist the knife in your chest, he whispered, "Please."

You dropped your gaze low to the cobblestone ground beneath your feet, blurry now through your lashes. "I need to go." The sight of him standing before you, eyes watery and lips parted helplessly, sent painful pangs through your heart. You moved your head, willing yourself to turn away and your legs to move. You didn't think you could leave if you looked him in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

Those same eyes followed you as you walked down the path, head hung low but steps quickening despite. Steps taken in the direction of The Three Broomsticks, where you'd go on your date with Sebastian. Your mind kicked and screamed at you at every step, but you couldn't get them to stop.

You felt James's eyes on your retreating form like you felt the wind snapping against your cheeks, though you didn't turn back to look at him. That way, he wouldn't be able to see the way your expression shook at the effort of just trying to keep yourself together.

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writerofsorts · 10 months ago

Text

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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pineapplehazard · 18 days ago

Text

Not the One

Buck had been particularly down this week. Bobby couldn't help but notice how little excitement Buck had shown about the team playing a role in Brad's show. Knowing how smiley and happy he usually got whenever they encountered camera crews or filming sets, the captain had expected the kid to be jumping around like a golden retriever. But Buck had let out a barely audible, “Oh... that's cool,” and when Chimney started joking about the miracle of them being allowed on set—considering Bobby and Eddie had insulted the show and its “star”—Buck had barely taken the time to flash the fakest, weakest smile ever before turning away, leaving the conversation.

Bobby had also noticed the absence of baked goods from Buck over the following week. He had been so proud of him for finding an alternative to contacting Tommy, trying to separate himself from that failed relationship in a healthy way. Maybe it was a bit much to actually be considered healthy, but spending overtime baking was definitely one of the less destructive coping mechanisms someone on this team had ever used.

Now, this could have meant that Buck had finally come to terms with the breakup—or even better, that he had finally realized he deserved a much better partner than Tommy had been. But Bobby knew better than to be too hopeful.

The sudden halt in Buck’s baking habit could also mean two terrible things:

He and Tommy had somehow gotten back together.

Buck’s mood had dropped so low that even baking wasn’t enough to cope.

Somehow, the hickey blatantly visible on the young man’s neck didn’t help Bobby figure out which option had won.

As Bobby prepared lunch, he couldn’t help but watch his team, hoping to see in them the same worry he felt for his kid.

Hen was focused on the video game in which she was currently beating Buck. If she was worried about him, it was well hidden behind sarcastic comments and playful shoves on the sofa.

Eddie, however… Eddie was watching Buck with a complicated expression on his face. Bobby sighed. What a terrible time to have a revelation, Diaz. (Then again, Bobby knew better than to hope that either of these two idiots would realize what they were to each other anytime soon.)

“I’m afraid we’re back to Buck 1.0, Cap,” Chimney said, coming up behind him at the counter, resigned.

“1.0?”

“Truckstealer Buck, if you prefer. It’s too bad. I think we were at least on Buck 5.0 by now. Maybe 6.0? Do you think the lightning strike caused an update?”

Bobby gripped the pan handle tighter than he should have at that unnecessary reminder.

“A hickey doesn’t mean he’s back to his former bad habits…” the captain said, uncertain of who he was trying to convince.

“Sure, no. But three hook-up dates in three days?”

Bobby didn’t answer, but his face must have said enough. Chimney sighed and shook his head.

“I know… It’s bad. He even refused to babysit Jee or come over for dinner! Buck loves seeing Jee!”

Their conversation was interrupted by the end of Hen and Buck’s game. Chimney left to set the table, grumbling about how he should have tried harder to stop Buck before he even started dating that “asshole.”

None of it was mentioned for the rest of the shift. Buck tried to act as usual, Hen managed to do so, Eddie brooded, and Chimney and Bobby exchanged concerned glances from time to time.

Bobby remembered his talks with Buck when he’d started his relationship with Abby, and later, the conversations they’d had after the Buckleys’ first visit to LA. He remembered how proud Buck had been of his personal growth—of no longer needing to be used to feel like he mattered. Bobby thought of all this and decided he couldn’t just watch Buck destroy all his progress. His kid was hurting, and Bobby was going to help him get better.

Which led the captain to be standing in front of Buck’s door.

For a second, he hesitated, realizing suddenly that he might find Buck in a compromising position, considering the frequency of the “hook-up dates” Chimney had described. Still, he knocked.

Not two minutes passed before the door opened to Buck, fully dressed (thank God) and apparently alone.

“Bobby?” Buck frowned, clearly perplexed by his captain’s presence but still stepped aside to let him in. “I’m—I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a mess right now, but, um… come in?”

As Bobby walked in, he did notice the “bit of a mess.” He wouldn’t go so far as to say the loft was unrecognizable—he had spent too much time in it after bombings, lightning strikes, and housefires not to recognize the place—but it did look like a tornado had made its way inside. Most of Buck’s baking instruments were scattered across the central island, empty flour bags and takeout boxes filling the rare voids.

The living room wasn’t much better. Dirty T-shirts and sweatshirts were lazily thrown on the chairs, and by the couch, DVDs and… Lego boxes? covered the floor.

Bobby took a determined breath and looked Buck right in the eyes. “I think we need to talk.”

Buck’s confusion turned to dread. “Is everything okay? Is Athena—”

“Athena’s fine. Everyone’s fine,” Bobby reassured. “Except you, it seems.”

“What?”

Grabbing the kid’s arm, he guided him to the table. “Stop gaping like a fish and sit, Buckley.”

Dirty sweatshirts were thrown further away, they both sat, accompanied by an awkward silence. Buck wouldn't meet Bobby's eyes, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I'm going to talk, Buck, and I would like for you to listen, to hear what I'm trying to say... Okay? This isn't a reprimand or anything like that, I'm just worried about you, kid."

At that, Buck finally raised his head, and god, those sad blue eyes could really break Bobby's heart over and over again.

"I couldn't help but notice a change in your behavior recently. You're not smiling as much as you used to, you're not baking anymore, you're avoiding your sister apparently, and visibly you've been..." The man gestured awkwardly to the hickey. "going out? Again. And that's a lot of signs indicating that you're not doing very well."

Buck just nodded, lips pinched and eyes watery. Bobby suddenly regretted choosing to have a whole table between them. He should have been holding Buck close, in such a good hug that it would shield the boy from all of his problems.

"I know from experience that when we suffer, we tend to lean on our bad habits, and we say to ourselves that it's because they're comfortable, but in truth, we go back to them because we know that they hurt us."

"Bobby..."

"And I know it might not be my place, but I'm not certain that you going out on dates with different people, and... what follows, is actually doing you any good."

In front of him, Buck had become red, stumbling on his words, embarrassed.

"I—uh—hm... Bobby, I don't—I have not been sleeping around, if that's what you're worried about."

Bobby's eyebrow lifted by itself, too skeptical considering the purple mark on the young one's neck.

"Okay, I... I had one date. Yesterday. And it didn't go further than what you can see, actually. He... He wasn't who I really wanted."

Oh, Tommy Kinnard. If punching people in the street was more accepted... How could someone voluntarly decide to break this boy's precious heart?

"Then why couldn't you see your sister and your niece? Two different times?"

"Well... I was busy...," Buck gestured to the whole flat, "sulking... as you can see."

"That's all?" Bobby asked, unconvinced.

"No..." Hesitation passed on Buck's face before he continued. "Can I say something terrible?... They're too happy. I mean, I'm glad that they are! But... I didn't think I could have survived spending time with the perfect happy family... Maddie and Chim are so happy together... They're married, and they have a wonderful daughter who's as shining as them, and... They're the reminder of everything I've just lost, you know?"

Bobby didn't know, actually. Sure, things had been going well enough between Buck and Kinnard, but to think that the kid was already projecting marriage and children with this man? Bobby had been lightyears away from imagining things were that serious between them. He should have known. Buck always went all in in his relationships. Now the captain felt terrible with how lightly they all had approached his breakup, if Buck had been grieving this entire future he had envisionned.

"Sometimes you meet someone thinking that they're the one, and it seems so perfect that the idea that they could leave you one day never crosses your mind... But sometimes they do... and it hurts. It's normal that it hurts." As Bobby talked, the young man just nodded, wiping his nose from time to time. "And you're grieving, because no matter how short it was," Buck frowned. "what you had with them was real. What matters, Buck, is that you can cherish what you had without punishing yourself for not having it anymore."

At this point, Buck was barely holding his tears, and Bobby decided that enough talking had been done. He walked around the table and wrapped his arms around the boy.

"It's too hard."

For a moment, they stayed like this, Buck holding Bobby like he was his lifeline, wetting his captain's T-shirt with his tears. Oh, Bobby wished he could take all his pain away. Until he found a way to do that, he would continue to hold him tight.

"It feels like my one real happiness was right in front of me, but it got snatched away before I could really catch it."

"It might feel like it right now, but I'm sure you will find happiness, Buck. It might just not be with Tommy."

The boy suddenly froze in his arms.

"...With who?"

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago

Text

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 · 4 months 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 · 2 years 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.

480 notes · View notes

flowerbetweenfangs · 10 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 · 10 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 · 1 year 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 · 5 months ago

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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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problematicbots · 2 months ago

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Winged Sentinel au

Act 2: Snippet 7: Apologize

Warning: Squeal to a fanfic

Optimus entered the base, where he found his team, including Blurr, attending to Wasp on the couch with the exception of Bumblebee and Prowl.

As soon as Optimus stepped inside, Ratchet and Bulkhead approached him. They both looked up at Red Prime with their optics filled with wariness.

“did you find them” Asked Ratchet in concern as he placed a servo on Optimus's shoulder

“Yes and they work things out-wait where are Bumblebee and Prowl?“ asked Optimus

“oh jumped out of a window as soon as he saw Wasp “ uttered Bulkhead “and Prowl went after him “

Optimus pincher his nonexistent nose and shook his head in annoyance at this: why can anything ever be simple

“Ugh of course he did, why wouldn't he” sighed Optimus “Looked Sentinel is coming soon to huh talk to Wasp about what happened “

Wasp immediately screamed and climbed on top of the fridge when he heard that Sentinel was coming.

“Wasp don't want to talk to blue meanie!, Wasp doesn't want to get hurt again, “ cried Wasp. “

“Wasp it's ok, I talked to Sentinel he’s not going hurt you I promise “ reassured Optimus “he just wanted to talk that all I swear”

Wasp glared down at Optimus with distrust; however, Ratchet approached him and placed a comforting servo on Wasp’s servo, slowly calming the green bot down.

“Shh hey kid along if I am here I make sure that he doesn't touch you, got it” reassured Ratchet with a calming presence “You’re safe “

“Red medic promise?” whimpered Wasp.

“Yes, I promise, now get down from the fridge,” reassured Ratchet.

Wasp reluctantly agrees getting down from the fridge with Ratchet helping him softly get on the ground.

The only thing left for them to do now was to sit and wait for Sentinel to arrive at the base.

During the seemingly long wait that went on for nearly an hour, Sari began speaking to Blurr In a little conversation.

“So you really can't run anymore, “ asked Sari softly.

“I- no “ muttered Blurr clutching his chest plate and looking ashamed

“Don't worry, I can fix that!” smiled Sari, pulling out her key.

“A key?” questioned Blurr narrowing his optics

"Not just any key, Blurr, all spark gives it to her; it can fix everything, “explained Optimus. “I’m sure it can help you”

All spark created a key; Blurr wouldn't usually believe something like this; however, after everything that he had seen, he decided that it might be worth a shot.

“You know what sure why not” sighed Blurr wondering how much weirder this day became.

Sari climbed onto his leg and put the key into his chest plate. From there, a blue light glow swirled around his body only to turn red and knock Sari away with the key widening everyone’s optics in shock.

“Sari!” yelped Bulkhead gently, catching her before she hit the ground.

“Ugh, thank Bulkhead,” groaned Sari.

Bulkhead says, “You’re welcome,” towards Sari while everyone turns over to Blurr, trying to figure out what just happened.

“I’m guessing not normal, right?” assumed Blurr.

“i- It has never done this before, try running“ gulped Ratchet.

Blurr nodded before getting up on his feet to try running yet unfortunately, his speed was slower than it was before making his optics widen in dread.

‘“I- It's even worse now..” choked Blurr falling on his knees in defeated

Optimus and the crew looked at Blurr in sympathy, placing their servos on his shoulder in comfort.

“I'm sorry Blurr, I just don't understand why I didn't work” apologized Sari, feeling terrible “It always works

“huh I guess I'm t-truly stuck like this.. forever ” stuttered Blurr feeling his spark getting stabbed through since he did have a little bit of hope that it might work only to have it be shot down

“We will find another cure for you, Blurr, I promise. “ Comforted Optimus

Blurr was simply too stunned to respond to Optimus, preferring to stare at the floor as try progress the fact that a project all spark refused to heal him, which felt like another punch in the gut.

Suddenly Sentinel finally entered the base with Jetfire and Jetstorm by his side. For a moment, there was tension in the air as Wasp and Sentinel glared at each other. Wasp's optics filled with fear while Sentinel's optics tried to remain firm, although there was some underlying uncertainty there as he approached Wasp slowly.

Sentinel reached into his glove compartment, making Wasp immediately hide behind Ratchet, who gave Sentinel a disapproving glare alongside Optimus.

“Those better not be static cuffs in there boy” scolded Ratchet.

“What, no, there are just forms, you old co-.” Sentinel was cut off by Jetstorm, and Jetfire glared at him, making him quickly reroute his sentence to something else as he took out the forms from his glove compartment to show that he wasn't going to cuff him.

“Huh, I mean you old coolo medic,” gulped Sentinel, trying to salvage the situation awkwardly. Although the twins didn't look convinced, neither did Ratchet, Optimus, or Wasp.

“forms? Sentinel, I ask you to apologize to him not make him sign paperwork” groaned Optimus

“Yeah yeah I know it's just that I need him to sign this so any charges against him can be dropped along with his arrest “ sighed Sentinel

“Arrest?, Sentinel you were the one the one that threatened him” reminded Optimus narrowing his optics.

When Optimus pointed out that Sentinel threatened Wasp, Sentinel once again felt his words spinning around as he began having visions once again with the offline Wasp replaced by a corpse, making him panic and back away as he grabbed his own faceplate.

This wasn't the only vision, Another vision this time of Ultra Magnus appeared behind Sentinel whispering to him to keep following protocol otherwise there would be consequences making Sentinel inhale sharply before trying to shake out of it snapping back to reality.

“W-will stop reminding me!” shouted Sentinel in a mix of anger and guilt making Jetfire and Jetstorm back away a bit along with Wasp “Look just let Wasp read and sign these fragging forms, it will explain everything “

“wait a minute Sentinel what exactly are in these forms” asked Optimus suddenly taking the forms away from Sentinel to read them

Sentinel attempted to grab the forms from Optimus, yet the red prime kept dodging him and using his hand to block Sentinel's face, which Sentinel didn't like at all as he began growling “Why you “ at the red prime, but Optimus just ignored it and read the forms while Jetfire and Jetstorm are looking at each in worried.

“HEY GIVE THOSE BACK, THOSE AREN'T FOR YOU TO READ!” shouted Sentinel trying to take the forms back Optimus

In the forms it simply says this:

Under Elite Guard’s vow, the charges and arrest against the offender would be dropped with the retrial progressing as normally with static cuffs involved, and any assaults I made against the offender in question as leader of the Aerialbots and subcommander of the Autobot sincerely apologize for by the signing of this document - Sentinel Prime ™.

Optimus couldn't believe this: did Sentinel seriously put his apology in a form? This got this to be the weirdest and dumbest thing that Optimus had ever seen his old academy buddy do considering he had seen him apologize to Jetfire and Jetstorm so what was the deal?

“Sentinel, did you seriously put your apology in a form?” Groaned Optimus

“What I thought this might have killed two cons with one stone “ huffed Sentinel defensively

“S-Sentinel what is the frag wrong with you!’ snapped Optimus catching everyone off guard “You can apologize to Jetfire and Jetstorm perfectly just fine but apparently you can't apologize to Wasp to save your own aft!”’

“W-well That different-” Sentinel tried to defend him but Optimus cut him off

“How so? Because as far as I can see you are hurting both of them and you're hurting me-” Optimus quickly covered his mouth when he accidentally mentioned himself “I mean huh Wasp..”

“Wait so this is personal after all!!” suspicioned Sentinel

“I-UGH! I NEVER WANTED THIS TO BE PERSONAL SENTINEL BUT YOU JUST HAVE TO AVOID RESPONSIBILITY AND BLAME ME FOR EVERYTHING “ shouted Optimus “DON'T YOU THINK I MISS HER TO?!”

This stunned Sentinel into silence and shock: he never knew that Optimus missed Elita too and this realization hit him like a truck but before he could say anything Optimus dashed out of the base in frustration leaving Sentinel’s world flip upside down while everyone else glance in confusion and concerns

“Op-Optimus wait!” Yelped Sentinel quickly put the forms away and went after Optimus.

Sentinel kept running until he found Optimus inside of the alleyway sitting against a trash can with his sevros against his faceplate.

Sentinel looked at Optimus with hesitation before sitting next to him awkwardly and with barely anything to say other than that he didn't know.

“I- didn't I-I never knew that you miss her”. Gulped Sentinel putting his arms around his legs.

“Of course I did, she was my friend too but I guess you never thought of that, did you?” whispered Optimus bitterly. “I never meant to leave her behind, you know sometimes I wish If I could I would save both of you... somehow “

That was true, Sentinel was so angry at Optimus about leaving Elita behind that he never thought about how the red prime felt about the situation at all.

“I-I missed her too, her laugh, her jokes, and her smile “ whimpered Sentinel grieving Elita

“Her dance moves and her dares,” added Optimus, grieving her too.

“ha yeah, She.. always somehow knows to make a room brighter “ grieved Sentinel.

“Yes, she did “ sighed Optimus “I just wanted to know..why you blame me for all of it.. I thought we were friends... I thought you at least cared a little to at least see that I was suffering too”

“i-I we were friends..I..at one point I did like you ... it's just that I didn't want to think that I really lost her..she was everything to me and now she's gone because of..a stupid fragging idea..“ choked Sentinel “but I guess she was everything to you and I didn't realize until it was far too late...I guess we both lost something that day”

Sentinel sighed before leaning his helm against Optimus’s shoulder which caught Optimus off guard yet he slowly accepted.

“I’m…sorry for leaving her behind” sighed Optimus. “And for the whole..ax thing,”

“I’m sorry too..for everything too...I guess I really did become your... Alpha Trion “ signed Sentinel “You know the big bad villain that gets in your way.

“Sentinel for the last time you’re not evil, an evil bot wouldn't exactly apologize for what they have done “muttered Optimus not believing that Sentinel was still on that whole evil thing “You can still make amends with Wasp, just apologize like you just did with me and the twins, no forms”

“You know he still has to sign these forms since assault is still assault “ sighed Sentinel.

“But huh I will apologize first if that's anything” sighed Sentinel "But don't expect him to forgive me like we are in some kind of magical wonderland, got it? “

“Sentinel-” Optimus was about to groan in annoyance believing his academy buddy learned nothing until Sentinel cut him off.

Optimus couldn't help but shake his helm a little bit at the mention of a magical wonderland sometimes he doesn't understand what going through Sentinel's hard drive at all

“I-huh got it” sighed Optimus with a little laugh, never really understanding what Sentinel meant by that but could see that he was at least trying.

“Good Now let's get out here, this place gives me the creeps” exhaled Sentinel getting back on his feet and heading back to base.

This talk about Elite One makes Optimus wonder if he should tell Sentinel about Blackarahina yet remembering the destruction that Sentinel caused in Steelhaven, he decided that Sentinel had already been through enough so Optimus I shifted his attention back to the retrial since there were a few things that he worried about.

“Hey Sentinel about this retrial, I wonder if you could tell me more about it ” questioned Optimus.

“Well what you expected with any other trial, the defense team have to convince the council and Elite Guard that guy is innocent while the procuration team try to throw him in the slammer you know that kind of thing “ explained Sentinel

“Is there any way you could put us on Wasp's defense team?” asked Optimus.

“Well Optimus I never knew you were the type to ask me to pull stings,” uttered Sentinel, a bit surprised.

“Wh-what I am not asking you to pull any strings I just want me and my team to help Wasp in any way possible, ok” stuttered Optimus defensively.

“Right because me as the sub commander of the Autobots putting a maintenance crew with no experience in law on the defense team is definitely not pulling any strings “ spoked Sentinel sarcastically with an optics roll.

“I- ugh look is there any way for us to help without any slings being pulled “ asked Optimus.

“huh well You and little crew could be on the jury but that's pretty much it” suggested Sentinel.

“huh..Right, so who exactly is on Wasp's defense team, and who is against him? “ asked Optimus.

“some bot called Smokescreen is the lead of his defense team while another not called Huh Alchemist is against him, claims to be the best in the business but I doubt we have anything to worry about as long as Wasp sign these forms “ explained Sentinel a bit confidently “so he won't be held for another crime.... just the whole you know spy mix up”

“Huh, are you certain?” questioned Optimus, still a bit concern

“Hey what are the chances that he did something else illegal so this retrial should be smooth sailing “ uttered Sentinel thinking this was going to be the easiest part.

Optimus was still uneasy at this since he had a bad feeling in the spark that this wasn't as easy as Sentinel said that it was going to be especially since he didn't exactly like the idea of not being on Wasp's defense team yet jury is really the only option without looking shady.

So the two prime once again entered base where they saw Blurr and Ratchet sitting down at a table playing cards on the floor with Wasp who immediately turned stiff at the sight of seeing Sentinel again while Blurr and everyone else looked on awkwardly.

“We're back, this time Sentinel wanted to talk to Wasp properly” announced Optimus.

“Huh right I leave you guys to it “ uttered Blurr awkwardly getting up from the ground to make room for Sentinel to sit

Wasp whimpered a bit in fear as Sentinel approached toward Wasp however Ratchet calmly placed a servo on Wasp's shoulder calming him down.

“I won't let him do anything, kid “ reassured Ratchet standing as Wasp's bodyguard while comforting him.

Sentinel took a deep breath and sat down across from Wasp at the table putting the forms onto the table. There was an awkward silence that you could hear a pin drop from here as the two states at each other in unease.

Wasp started at Sentinel's faceplate with suspicion before picking up the forms to read them with narrow optics before placing them back down on the table still glaring at the blue prime.

“Huh Wasp look I'm huh.. s-sorry about what happened “ gulped Sentinel acting like he was dying but the apology was genuine “Look I don't expect you to forgive me like we are in lolly land but just sign these forms so we continue this retrial and afterwards we don't have to see other faceplates ever again, got it .”

“How hold on what did you just call me “ glared Sentinel at Wasp scarring the Green bot when he slammed his servo onto the table and making everyone glare at Sentinel, especially Jetfire and Jetstorm who looked on in uneasy while Ratchet took a protective stand in front of Wasp.

“Wasp don't forgive Big Blue meanie but Wasp will agree to go to retrial as long as Bumblebee isn't around “ growled Wasp picking up a nearby pen.

Sentinel immediately backs off when sees the disapproval from Jetfire and Jetstorm which once again makes him see visions of the corpse Wasp making him panic so he to a sharp inhale to try to regain his composure.

“i-I mean just go ahead and sign and take your time” gurgled Sentinel trying to reroute his sentence to be less hostile “And huh this Bumblebee won't be anywhere near your trial”

Wasp narrowed his optics at Sentinel, growling at him a bit before signing all the forms. When Wasp was finally done signing the form he nervously handed it back over to Sentinel who quickly placed them back in the glove compartment before getting up ready to go back to Cybertron.

“Good now with that all settled, we can finally go back to Cybertron” uttered Sentinel, ushering the Elite Guard and everyone else to follow him to Steelhaven.

“Hold up Sentinel what about Bumblebee and Prowl they aren't back yet “ spoke up Optimus “And we can't just leave Sari here alone “

As soon as Optimus says that Prowl suddenly shows up covered in mud looking tired and that he's been through a complete nightmare, holding a struggling and yelling Bumblebee by the neck.

“Let me go! I have rights!” yelped Bumblebee trying to break free from Prowl’s hold while the cyber ninja looked like he was nearly about to snap.

Wasp hissed and glared at Bumblebee with intense hatred, feeling betrayed by Sentinel's lie about not being near his trial.

“Didn't blue mech say Bumblebee won't be anywhere near Wasp’s trial” hissed Wasp ready to activate his blaster.

“Wh- how was I supposed to know that he was going up now!?” growled Sentinel in annoyance “Ugh you know what, here's an idea Bumblebee here can stay with the tiny human while the rest of us can go to Cybertron to get this trial start, got it”

Wasp liked the idea of not seeing Bumblebee again and fully supported the plan, while Optimus was opposed to it. To him, it felt like Bumblebee was avoiding responsibility again, and he didn't like the thought of Bumblebee being on Earth by himself.

“Sentinel, we can't just leave Bumblebee behind, He needs to take responsibility for what he has done” protested Optimus. “He has to come with us...He can wait outside the trial and apologize afterward, Sounds good?”

“NO, I DON'T WANT TO GO!” whined Bumblebee. “I can just stay and hang out with Sari at base, like Sentinel said.”

“And Wasp doesn't want Bumblebee to be anywhere near Wasp’s trial!” agreed Wasp.

“For frag's sake, Optimus, just let him stay on that stupid organic rock! He can make his little amends with Wasp later" groaned Sentinel. "What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Look, Sentinel, I really don’t like the idea of Bumblebee being on Earth... alone with Sari...They tend to get into trouble,” sighed Optimus.

“All right then, the Cyber Ninja can stay to keep an eye on them,” suggested Sentinel. “There! Problem solved!”

“Yes, good idea! We'll go with that!” gulped Bumblebee.

“Ugh Primus not again..” groaned Prowl annoyed that was about to babysit Bumblebee again “but I suppose it's for the best”

Optimus glares between Wasp, Bumblebee, Sari, Sentinel, and Prowl before letting out a reluctant sigh.

“Fine” groaned Optimus, feeling like he was about to have a headache at this.

“Right now let's get out of here” huffed Sentinel walking out the base ushering everyone out with the expectation of Bumblebee and Prowl.

With that Bumblebee was finally put down by Prowl while Optimus and the rest crew said their goodbyes to Sari with Bulkhead promising to come back and give her gift from Cybertion when he came back.

While walking out of the base Ratchet decided to talk to Jetfire and Jetstorm knowing that he was out of line with them earlier.

“Eh hey Jetfire and Jetstorm right” asked Ratchet “Eh I'm sorry about all that talk earlier”

“Look I don't forgive you but.. thanks.. for the apology anyway” sighed Jetfire with Jetstorm nodding along.

Ratchet felt bad but he knew that it was fair considering how he acted earlier so he sighed before transforming into his vehicle once he was out of the base.

After getting done talking to Ratchet, Jetfire and Jetstorm turn their attention to Sentinel Prime to have a talk him.

“Sentinel.. thank you for keeping my promise ” sighed Jetstorm “but… you almost scared me..and Jetfire back there ..I don't want you to do that again toward him ok”

“I-i huh not sure if I can.. exactly do that... Jetstorm…” stuttered Sentinel knowing fully that would take an act of Primus to calm him down.

“Please..at least try” exhaled Jetstorm.

Soon everyone was on their way toward Steelhaven except for Optimus he couldn't stand the sight of Bumblebee dancing and celebrating avoiding responsibility so he backtracked to glare at Bumblebee.

“Frag yeah staying on earth with Prowl and Sari! Best day ever!” celebrated Bumblebee with finger guns.

“Well, I hope you're happy Bumblebee because somehow the less responsible bot I ever know” muttered Optimus clearly pissed off. “One day guilt is going to eat you from the inside out”

“Nuh huh I'm the responsible bot I know “ declined Bumblebee “Right guys”

Sari, Prowl, and Optimus didn't respond to that at all leaving nothing other than silence to fill the air as Optimus leaves without another word leaving Bumblebee befuddled.

“What I am totally responsible!” yelp Bumblebee angrily.

“Yeah as responsible as a baby “shot down Sari with an eye roll while Prowl sniffed back a laugh

Bumblebee really didn't like being called a baby so he decided that was going to try to prove Sari wrong with the worst idea that ever came up in his helm.

“Hey I’m not a baby and I can prove it! “ yelped Bumblebee waving his arms in frustration.

Bumblebee without any warning began dashing over to the exit of the base but Prowl blocked him with Sari.

“Just where do you think you're going?” asked Prowl with crossed arms looking at Bumblebee with a glare.

“Yeah Didn't you want to stay in base? “ added Sari copying Prowl by crossing her arms too.

Bumblebee groaned in annoyance knowing that Sari and Prowl wouldn't leave until he explained himself so he had to direct them somehow. He spotted a nest filled with eggs on a ledge getting him a idea.

“Prowl look out that nest is about to fall” yelped Bumblebee shooting the side of the ledge causing the nest to fall off immediately

Prowl gasped and reacted quickly doing a backflip to save the nest from falling while Bumblebee made his escape with Sari trying to jump on him to stop him from leaving yet he was way too fast for her to catch up with as transformed into his vehicle and drive away disappearing into the distance.

“Ugh, can you believe him!” groaned Sari in annoyance.

Sari jumped on top of Prowl and two zoomed out of base in search for Bumblebee across the street of Detroit.

“Come on we can still catch up with him” uttered Prowl putting the nest in a safe spot on a table before transforming into his vehicle mode.

They keeping searching for him until they spotted him jumping inside Steelhaven and quickly entering a vent when the doors shut and the ship flew off into the sky before Prowl and Sari could properly catch up with him.

“Oh great He’s gone,” huffed Sari, annoyed.

“This isn't over yet” uttered Prowl pressing his servo against his aduail ready to call Optimus only for it to glitch out due to the mud “I-i the connection seems to be slash”

“Well, frag” cussed Sari with crossed arms not believing her best friend would ditch her like that without even telling her what he was planning. “And to think I was about to make him another friendship bracelet”

Prowl comforted Sari before taking her back to base where they tried other ways to sent messages towards the team hoping at least one them make it though since who knows what Bumblebee could be up to on that ship

_________________________________________

Steelhaven landed on a landing deck where Sentinel ushered everyone out including Bebop who was holding a jar of rain that he collected from Earth and Jazz spent a full minute to convince Sentinel that it wasn't dangerous.

Once they step onto the surface of Iacon Optimus, Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Wasp look on in astonishment at the changes that it has been through with seekers Autobots flying all over the place helping grounded bots meanwhile Blurr and Jazz deal with the Decepticon prisoners by letting a few guards take them to prison.

“Woah it's almost like a dream” grasped Bulkhead looking around in wonder at the site as Sentinel showed off everything like a trophy.

“Welcome all the new and improved Cybertron that one and only Aerialbots help to build from the ground up” announced Sentinel can't help but brag about how great his unit the Aerialbots is.

Sentinel showed everyone the new charging around Cybertron while walking them towards Fortress Maximus when suddenly Sliverbolt came down from the sky bolting towards the blue prime in a panic however Sentinel was far too excited to show off the changes that he made to notice the fear in Sliverblot’s optics.

“And here one of the members of the greatest unit in Cybertron right now “ bragged Sentinel putting his arms around the panicked Sliverbolt.

“Sir Punkrock and First Rate have gone missing! yelped Silverbolt in panic. "We sent a search party after them, but so far we haven't found anything!”

Bebop immediately dropped the jar of rain on the ground in horror hearing that his sibling was missing while Sentinel's proud face twisted into frustration.

“My.. brother is missing” whimpered Bebop in pure fear while Jazz put a comforting servo on his shoulder.

“WHAT! WELL KEEP LOOKING FOR THEM, THAT A ORDER “ shouted Sentinel. “AND I’M COMING WITH SO NOBODY ELSE GO MISSING “

“Yes, Sir” salutes Sliverbolt ready to go back into action

Sentinel was about to get ready to transform and soar out in the sky with Sliverbolt until Ultra Magnus appeared in front of them with a crossed face.

“I don't think so Sentinel, you’re not going anywhere until this trial is over with “ huffed Ultra Magnus. “As a reminder everyone in the elite guard must be present for the pre-trial preparation alongside the council”

“But Sir, my unit!” Protested Sentinel in frustration.

“I'm sure they will do just fine without your presence, now go to quarters with the rest of the Elie guard in Fortress Maximus and get ready, that's an order “ dismissed Ultra Magnus. “Unless you want to cancel this trial “

“But-” Sentinel was cut off by Ultra Magnus repeating “That's an order” but slightly louder this time.

Sentinel gave Ultra Magnus a glare huffing a reluctantly “fine” before turning over to Silverbolt to order him and Bebop to keep looking for two missing Aerialbots with the rest of the unit which they agree to

Afterward, Sentinel along with the rest of the Elite Guard left toward their quarters to get ready for the upcoming trial leaving the rest of the Autobots feeling an uneasy tension in the air.

_______________________________________

Bumblebee rolled out the vents of Steelhaven onto the landing deck with a determined look on his faceplate.

“Responsibility city here I come “ puffed Bumblebee with pride “Wasp get ready for the best apology of a lifetime “

The mention of Wasp caught the attention of an old Silver and Golden mech who approached Bumblebee with interest as he slightly pulled Bumblebee into an area of iacon where nobody could see them.

“I’m sorry did you say Wasp, how do you know that name? “ asked the older mech towards Bumblebee

“Oh well-he used..he used to bully me” gulped Bumblebee suddenly less confident now.

“And you really want to say sorry to somebody who bullied you when you were the victim “ questioned the old mech.

“You know what you're right! Why would I be the one to say sorry he was the one who cut my legs off! “ Huffed Bumblebee” I can't believe I came all the way here for nothing “

“Perhaps your visit isn't all in vain my friend, this could be your chance to finally stand up to him, all you need to do is put this in his drink“ suggested the older mech putting out a small piece of red Energon.

Bumblebee widened his optics in bewilderment at the red energon; he had no idea what this was at all and what it could do.

“Huh is that enegon?” asked Bumblebee

“Not just any enegon, Red enegon..perfect for pranks..put this in his oil during the pre-trial preparation and you will never feel helpless ever again “ suggested the older mech “But make sure that nobody sees you with it ”

“Oh I get the perfect prank that needs to be unseen, I am in!” Bumblebee eagerly took the red energon “Thanks huh..what was your name?”

“Please call me Alchemist my friend and if you don't mind I have some business to attend to “ smiled Alchemist before disappearing into a nearby dim alleyway.

Bumblebee blinked a few times to make sure that he wasn't seeing anything since for a second he thought he saw Alpha Trion and Ironhide inside of an alleyway that Alchemist disappeared into only to find that the old mech and his former second bully weren't there in all the second time he looked properly

This was something strange going around here however Bumblebee couldn't see that since as far as he knew he was going to pull the ultimate prank of a lifetime not knowing the consequences ahead.

#winged sentinel au #aka bumblebee is a reckless idiot #and prowl need a vacation #transformers animated #winged: act 2 #tfa sentinel prime #tfa optimus prime #tfa jazz #tfa jetstorm #tfa jetfire #tfa bulkhead #tfa prowl #tfa ratchet #tfa bebop #tfa wasp #tfa bumblebee #tfa blurr #tfa sari

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reallygroovyninja · 2 months ago

Note

I could see Clarke from your Everly AU using these Christmas lines on Lexa

The warm glow of Christmas lights filled the living room as Clarke and Lexa placed ornaments on their tree. The scent of cinnamon and pine lingered in the air, mixing with the soft holiday music playing in the background.

Clarke was unusually quiet as she rummaged through a box of decorations, a mischievous grin creeping onto her face when she found what she was looking for—a sprig of mistletoe.

Lexa, completely unaware, was standing on her tiptoes, placing a star near the top of the tree. Clarke slid up behind her and dangled the mistletoe above their heads.

"Well, well, Mrs. Griffin-Woods," Clarke began, her voice playful. "It looks like I’ve caught you under the mistletoe. Guess you’re my Christmas wrap-star."

Lexa turned, rolling her eyes but smiling. "That’s terrible, Clarke."

"Don’t worry," Clarke teased, stepping closer. "I’ve got more. Let me just say, I’m feeling pretty sleigh-ed by how gorgeous you look tonight."

Lexa chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you love me for it," Clarke said with a wink, leaning in slightly. "And you know, Lexa, I’d really like to jingle your bells tonight."

Lexa’s laughter bubbled out, and she swatted playfully at Clarke’s arm. "Clarke!"

"What?" Clarke asked innocently. "I’m just feeling festive. Speaking of which, you must be Santa, because you’ve got me saying ho, ho, ho."

Lexa covered her face, her laughter muffled by her hands. "Please stop before I die of secondhand embarrassment."

"Fine," Clarke said, pretending to pout. Then she grinned and pointed up at the mistletoe. "But you can’t ignore the rules. Looks like you have to kiss me."

Lexa looked up at the mistletoe and gave Clarke a fond smile before leaning in to kiss her. Just as their lips met, Everly walked into the room.

"Oh my God!" Their daughter exclaimed, dropping the bag of popcorn she’d been carrying. "Seriously? You two are gross! Kid in the room!"

Clarke turned to face Everly with an amused look. "Ev, this is mistletoe. It’s the rules. One day, you’ll understand."

"Yeah, no," Everly said, dramatically covering her eyes with one hand while pointing accusingly at the mistletoe with the other. "I don’t need to understand anything about you two and your weird Christmas flirting."

Clarke smirked. "Oh, come on, Everly. Don’t act like you’re not learning some top-tier material for your future. One day, you might want to impress someone by telling them, Are you a Christmas star? Because you light up my world."

"Mom!" Everly groaned, peeking through her fingers in exasperation. "Stop making it worse!"

"Fine, fine," Clarke said, holding up her hands in surrender. "But for the record, you’ve got my sense of humor, so you’re doomed."

Everly shook her head and picked up the popcorn she’d dropped. "If it means I turn out this cringe, I’m gonna be silent for the rest of my life."

#everly au #i saw this ask and I almost got out of bed last night to write it #but I am trying to get on a decent sleep schedule again #so what did i do at work today #oh just wrote this #403 words

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maccreadysbaby · 9 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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