#there is always such joy in reaching the final boss fight in a book

[muffinlance]

Final fight final fight LET’S GO final fight--

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 1: let’s hear it for the dog.. let’s give the dog a hand..

April 14th, 2025, 12:21 PM

Rhea smiled as she opened gifts from her coworkers, the room buzzing with excitement and joy. The company had thrown her a baby shower to celebrate the recent announcement: she was having a boy. At 21 weeks pregnant, she was both thrilled and overwhelmed.

Bruce Prichard, her boss, approached her with a bright smile, presenting his gift with a flourish. As Rhea unwrapped it, her eyes lit up at the sight of a boxed sleek black crib. “This is perfect!” she exclaimed, running her fingers along the box. Bruce leaned down and kissed the top of her head, chuckling. “It fits your persona, Rhea. A little dark and stylish.”

“I can’t thank everyone enough,” she said, her heart swelling with gratitude.

“All right, everyone,” Bruce clapped his hands, regaining everyone’s attention. “Now, let’s get back to work! We still have two finishers to finalize for WrestleMania weekend! Let’s do it, folks!”

Rhea watched as the gifts were escorted to her car, her spirits lifted, but she couldn’t shake the weariness in her bones. At 21 weeks, the pregnancy had begun to take its toll; her once toned body was transforming, and she was experiencing the usual discomforts, including swollen feet that seemed to throb with every step. Bruce noticed her struggle as she attempted to get up from her chair.

“Need a hand?” he offered, concern etched on his face.

She shook her head and added, “No, I’ll manage. Just give me a moment.”

“Okay, I’ll forward you the flight and hotel info for WrestleMania in a bit,” Bruce said as he stepped away.

Rhea managed to get up and make her way to her office, she opened the door and stepped into her workspace, adorned with memorabilia from every era of her career, including photos and portraits of Jey in his eras that brought a smile to her face. She sank into her ergonomic chair, the comfort almost lulling her into relaxation. With a sigh, she opened her binder and flipped through pages of notes and ideas for her future brother-in-law Jonathan’s storyline, eager to brainstorm for the upcoming Friday.

Just as she was getting lost in her thoughts, the phone rang. Rhea pressed the speaker button, her voice steady as she answered, “Demi Bennett speaking. How may I help you?”

“Ms. Bennett, this is the principal for The Mead School calling in regards to your stepson, Jeyce Fatu.”

Rhea’s heart sank, a knot forming in her stomach. “Put him through,” she said, bracing herself for what was to come.

The principal’s voice came through the line, sounding professional yet concerned. “I’ve tried reaching Jeyce’s mother, Ms. Takecia Travis, and his father, Mr. Joshua Fatu, but there’s been no answer. Is it okay to proceed with discussing the matter?”

“Go ahead,” Rhea replied, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.

“Jeyce got into another fight at school,” the principal said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

Rhea closed her eyes, suppressing a sigh. “How many days is he suspended for this time?”

“Four days,” the principal replied, his voice matter-of-fact.

“Okay,” Rhea said, resigned. “And as usual he’ll stay for detention until 5 PM today?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I’ll ensure he’s supervised.”

“Thank you,” Rhea said, her heart heavy. As the call ended, she felt the familiar frustration bubbling within her. Jeyce had been struggling lately, and despite her efforts, it seemed things were only getting worse.

Without hesitation, Rhea dialed Jey’s number, the phone ringing in her ear. She could only hope he would pick up and be ready to discuss their son’s troubles together. As she waited for him to answer, she couldn’t help but think about how much their family dynamic had shifted since she found out she was pregnant. Balancing her work life and their family had always been a challenge, but now it felt like an uphill battle.

“Come on, Jey,” she murmured, hoping he would answer soon.

“Hey, babe! How’s my favorite pregnant porcupine doing?” Jey’s voice came through, teasing yet warm.

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh at his playful nickname. “Bad news for Jeyce,” she replied, her tone shifting as she braced for the inevitable reaction.

There was a long sigh from Jey. “How long this time?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Four days,” Rhea said, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Guess he isn’t going to WrestleMania,” Jey remarked, his disappointment palpable.

“Babe, really?” Rhea shot back. “He could still go..”

“Ah, there you go, babying the boy,” Jey teased, but Rhea could hear the hint of seriousness in his voice.

“He is my mini me,” she countered, defending her stepson.

“Sure, but I don’t think headbutting people whenever they say something bad to him is good character development,” Jey replied, a chuckle escaping him.

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh again. “True, but he’s just reacting to what he feels. The school tried calling Takecia, but she isn’t answering.”

“Remember, babe? Takecia is with her mom,” Jey reminded her gently.

“Fuck, I'm stupid..” Rhea said, feeling a mix of guilt and annoyance. It was hard to keep track of everything, especially with all the changes happening around them. Takecia had been with her mom in San Francisco the past week and Rhea had still forgotten, with Rhea finally healing from her overdose back in October, her brain was getting stronger but now her pregnancy brain was in effect.

“Don’t stress,” Jey reassured her. “Jaciyah will pick up Jeyce after his shift at Pizza Hut.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at home,” Rhea said, relieved to know they had a plan in place.

As she hung up, Rhea reflected on how much had changed since they moved to Stamford. Just a few weeks after Rhea and Jey settled into their new home, Takecia and the boys made the move too, just twenty minutes away. It felt like a whirlwind, yet it brought a sense of family closeness that Rhea had longed for.

Jaciyah, in particular, had surprised them all. The seventeen-year-old had acquired some hyper-independence, taking a job at Pizza Hut to save for his own car, even though Rhea, Takecia and Jey had more than enough money to buy him one outright. He wanted to earn it himself, and Rhea admired that about him.

Rhea leaned back in her chair, thinking about the dynamics of their blended family. Jeyce was still adjusting to the changes, and with Jaciyah’s new responsibilities, Rhea felt the weight of being a stepparent growing heavier. But she wouldn’t trade it for anything. The challenges were just part of their journey together.

She took a deep breath, ready to tackle the rest of the day. Balancing work, family, and the impending arrival of her baby boy wouldn’t be easy, but she knew they could face anything as long as they stood together.

—

5:09 PM

Rhea gathered her things, stuffing the freshly printed itinerary for Vegas into her backpack. With a deep breath, she rose from her chair, turned off the lights in her office, and made her way out of WWE Headquarters. The office buzzed around her as she moved through the corridors, but her mind was already drifting to the comfort of home.

As she stepped into the crisp evening air, Rhea’s eyes fell on her brand-new plum-colored 2025 Chevrolet Tahoe Z71, gleaming under the lights. It was Jey’s thoughtful gift after her old Jeep’s sugar mishap. A sign of his love and support during this life chapter. Climbing into the driver’s seat, she took a moment to appreciate how much their lives had evolved.

The thirty-minute drive home was peaceful, a welcome break from the chaos of work and the nonstop demands of her blended family. Soon, she reached her gated property, the house standing tall and inviting as she entered the security code. The gates swung open, and Rhea drove up the pathway to the garage, pulling in beside Jey's car—his ole' reliable Mercedes. She parked, then carefully climbed out, trying to ease the pressure on her swollen feet.

Once inside, Rhea armed the security system and placed her backpack on the counter. “Jey?” she called, her voice soft but carrying through the house. She barely had time to set her keys down before Jey appeared, his warm smile easing away the fatigue from her day. He walked over and gave her a gentle kiss, his arms briefly wrapping around her as if shielding her from the day’s stresses.

“How was work?” he asked, his gaze filled with concern as he led her toward the kitchen bar.

“It was fine,” Rhea replied, sinking onto one of the breakfast stools. She stretched her legs, letting out a small sigh of relief as she did.

Jey immediately noticed her Vans, slipping them off gently to reveal her swollen feet. His expression softened even further as he knelt down. “You need a massage?” he asked, already running a careful thumb along her arch.

Rhea gave a small, grateful smile. “Not now. Maybe once I lay down so I can finally get some sleep.”

Jey nodded, his hand lingering on her ankle as he looked up at her. “You don’t have to do it all, you know. We’re in this together. And that means giving those feet a break every now and then.”

Rhea chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just hard to slow down. You know me.”

Jey rose, pulling her gently into his arms. “Well, tonight, we’re slowing down,” he promised, leading her to the living room. He helped her settle into their plush sofa, propping her feet up with a couple of pillows.

As she leaned back, letting out a sigh of relief, Jey disappeared for a moment, only to return with a glass of water and her favorite blanket. Draping it over her, he took a seat beside her, his hand instinctively resting on her growing belly.

Rhea placed her hand over his, a contented smile on her lips. The hustle, the stress, the chaos—it all melted away in moments like these. She looked at Jey, her partner, her rock, and she knew that despite everything, they were exactly where they needed to be.

Jey had his arms crossed with a playful grin as he asked, “So, what’s the craving tonight?”

Rhea smirked, her hand resting on her belly. “The baby wants fried Cajun chicken bites again,” she replied, feigning innocence.

Jey laughed, shaking his head. “Good thing I took out some chicken to defrost. Anything else?”

Rhea’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Fried pickles… and mac and cheese.”

Jey raised an eyebrow but chuckled, reaching over to kiss her forehead. “Alright, let me get to work then, chef’s orders,” he said, making his way to the kitchen with a smile.

As Rhea settled back into the couch, she grabbed the remote and scrolled through the movie options before settling on a horror classic, Scary Movie. She’d barely gotten comfortable when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Jaciyah appeared, flashing a warm smile as he walked over and gave his stepmom a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Rhea,” he greeted, plopping down beside her. “Almost there with my savings. My next paycheck should do it.”

Rhea beamed, proud of his determination. “That’s great, Jaciyah! Have you found any cars you’re interested in?”

He nodded, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I found this truck I like. Just need a co-signer.”

Rhea tilted her head thoughtfully, her smile unwavering. “Well, ask your dad first. If he says no, then I’ll co-sign for you. You deserve it.”

Jaciyah’s face brightened. “Thanks, Rhea. That means a lot.”

As they started watching the movie, Rhea took a quick glance at Jaciyah. “Have you talked to Jeyce today?”

Jaciyah nodded, his face falling slightly. “Yeah… they keep teasing him at school about you and Dad. You know, the usual stuff.”

Rhea sighed, rolling her eyes. “I love my mini-me, but I wish his temper wasn’t so much like Jey’s. He’s always ready to fight back.”

Jaciyah gave a small laugh. “Yeah, I get it. But I’ve got my mom’s temper. I can keep it cool… most of the time.”

Rhea chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That you do, Jaciyah. And you balance him out. I’m glad you’re around to look out for him, even if he doesn’t say it.”

Jaciyah’s face softened, his respect for Rhea clear in his expression. “I got him. And I got you, too. I also got my diploma in the mail.”

“Proud of you son..” Rhea said as she hugged her stepson once more, in order for Jaciyah to work he had talked to Jey and Takecia about enrolling in online school, to which they agreed.

The two continued watching the movie, laughing together at the silly scenes. In the background, the comforting sounds of Jey prepping dinner filled the house. Rhea couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with a sense of peace, surrounded by the people she loved, creating small moments that felt like treasures. It was a rare kind of happiness, one she knew was worth holding onto.

As soon as Jey called everyone for dinner, the almost-thirteen-year-old Jeyce came down from his room, looking less than thrilled. The four of them—Jey, Rhea, Jaciyah, and Jeyce—gathered at the dinner table, quickly saying a prayer before digging in. Rhea noticed Jeyce playing with his food, pushing the fried Cajun chicken bites around his plate without really eating.

In an attempt to lift the mood, Rhea smiled and said, “Guess what, babe? Bruce gifted us a black crib today. Said it matches my ‘persona.’” She chuckled, hoping to get a laugh out of the table.

Jey looked over at her, a slight grin crossing his face. “That’s great, babe. It’ll fit right in with the rest of the setup.”

Jey’s gaze then shifted to his younger son, Jeyce, who was still listlessly moving his food around. With a gentle but firm tone, Jey asked, “So, little man, what’d you do at school today?”

Jeyce barely looked up, muttering, “You already know what I did, Dad,” his voice laced with frustration.

Jey raised an eyebrow, his tone tightening slightly. “Don’t be snippy, Jeyce.”

Jeyce rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath. Rhea, sensing the tension, decided to jump in, her tone lighthearted as she said, “What happened to my little man who used to jump into my arms every time he saw me?”

Jeyce looked up at her, his expression a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “I’m a big boy now, Rhea.”

Jey shot his son a warning look. “Keep up that attitude, and you’re going straight up to your room.”

But Jeyce, seemingly unbothered, pushed his chair back and stood up on his own, heading toward the stairs without a word.

“Jeyce!” Jey called after him, frustration evident in his tone.

Rhea gently placed her hand on Jey’s arm, stopping him from going any further. “Let him go, babe,” she said softly, her voice filled with understanding. “He’s got a lot on his mind. Maybe he just needs some space.”

Jey let out a heavy sigh, his hand still gripping his fork tightly as he watched his son disappear up the stairs. He glanced back at Rhea, his eyes softening at her calming presence.

“It’s tough, you know?” he said, his voice low. “I don’t want him to feel like he has to handle everything alone, but he’s shutting me out.”

Rhea nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “He’s at that age. It’s confusing, with everything going on in his life and at school. Just give him a little time. He knows you’re here for him, and he knows I am too.”

Jey looked back at his plate, nodding slowly. “Yeah… you’re right. He’ll come around.”

Jaciyah, quietly observing the entire exchange, finally spoke up. “He just needs to cool off, Dad. I’ll check on him later.”

Rhea smiled at Jaciyah, grateful for his understanding nature. “Thank you, Jaciyah. You’re a great big brother.”

They continued their dinner in a quieter, more reflective atmosphere, each lost in their thoughts, yet finding comfort in each other’s presence.

—

After dinner, Jey assigned dish duty to Jaciyah, then gently helped Rhea up the stairs, her swollen feet making each step a bit more challenging. As they reached their bedroom, Rhea sighed and mentioned, “All the gifts from the baby shower are still in the Tahoe. Think you and Jaciyah could bring them in later?”

Jey gave her a comforting smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Let’s get you settled first, baby. Gifts can wait.”

Rhea let out a grateful sigh as she finally sat down on the edge of their bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Meanwhile, Jey opened their dresser, pulling out one of his oversized WWE shirts. Since she’d started showing, he’d ordered all his shirts in extra-large sizes, knowing they’d bring her comfort. They had become her go-to for sleep, helping her find a rare moment of relief during restless nights.

He passed her the soft, worn shirt, and she managed a small smile, memories of the countless times she’d snuggled into it, finding comfort in his scent. “Thanks, love,” she murmured.

Jey turned on the shower, testing the water until it was just the right temperature. Then he helped her undress, his touch gentle and caring. Rhea leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how I’m going to manage with you gone for a week,” she admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

Jey rubbed her back reassuringly. “You’ll be alright, babe. You’ll see me at WrestleMania, and then I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rhea nodded, though the thought of him being away tugged at her heart. “Yeah, but WrestleMania’s just a moment. Then it’s RAW, SmackDown, and you’re off again…”

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can. And once I’m back in the ring, it’s not just about me anymore. This run? It’s for us… and for our boy.”

Hearing the resolve in his voice, Rhea felt a wave of pride and support. Jey was finally about to get his long-awaited championship run, and she knew just how much this comeback meant to him. His shoulder was stronger than ever, his spirit renewed; he was ready to make his mark as a solo competitor, reaching heights they’d both dreamed about.

They stepped into the warm stream of the shower, their hands naturally finding each other as they let the water cascade over them. Showering together was their small ritual—a shared moment of peace in their busy lives, especially now, in this new chapter of their relationship. As he gently massaged her shoulders and caressed her growing belly, they shared soft smiles, silent assurances, and a deeper connection than words could capture.

After the shower, Jey helped Rhea into his oversized shirt, which draped comfortably over her, instantly making her feel cocooned in warmth. She climbed onto their California king bed, sighing as her head hit the pregnancy pillow, her body finally surrendering to the need for rest.

From the vanity across the room, Storm, their loyal cat, watched them with a quiet intensity, his green eyes reflecting his protective nature. The dogs, meanwhile, were out enjoying the vast expanse of their backyard, likely chasing fireflies or sniffing around under the moonlight.

Jey brushed his fingers through Rhea’s damp hair as she nestled into the pillow, her eyelids already growing heavy. “Get some rest, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll bring up the gifts with Jaciyah, and I’ll be back in no time.”

Rhea picked up the remote, flipping through streaming options until she landed on a movie she’d been meaning to watch, St. Elmo’s Fire. As the familiar sounds of the opening credits filled the room, she nestled further into the pillow, feeling a rare sense of calm.

—

As they lay sprawled across their bed, surrounded by piles of baby clothes in every shade of blue, gray, and white, Rhea and Jey organized each tiny onesie and pair of socks with careful hands. The abundance of gifts from their friends and family was overwhelming in the best way, and it filled their room with a sense of warmth and excitement for their little one’s arrival.

Jey broke the comfortable silence between them. “I finally got the papers from Julian. The divorce is finalized.”

Rhea looked up, her face softening with relief. “That’s good,” she replied, a gentle smile touching her lips. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “As soon as this baby’s out of me, everything we’ve been dreaming about can start.”

Jey’s eyes softened as he gazed at her, the woman he’d fought so hard to be with. “You confirmed the dates for Samoa in October, right?”

Rhea nodded, glancing down at her growing belly with a fond smile. “I did. October in Samoa, just one wedding, one celebration. I think it’ll be perfect.” They had agreed on a single ceremony close to Jey’s roots, keeping it intimate and meaningful so they wouldn’t be away from their newborn for too long. It felt right—grounded in family and culture, just as they wanted their life to be.

Jey’s hand drifted over her belly, his thumb tracing gentle circles. “Our little guy will get to see his parents tie the knot in one of the most beautiful places in the world.”

Rhea chuckled, leaning into his touch. “And he’ll probably sleep through the whole thing.”

“That’s okay,” Jey murmured, his eyes shining. “He’ll know he’s surrounded by love. That’s all that matters.”

They sat in contented silence for a moment, surrounded by the soft fabric of their baby’s clothes and the quiet joy of their plans. In that simple moment, with dreams of family and a life they’d fought for within reach, everything felt complete.

As Jey settled into the bed beside Rhea after putting the clothes up in the baby’s room, he turned to admire his very pregnant almost wife, her beauty radiating in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He gently placed a hand on her round belly, and Rhea grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “The baby is kicking!” she exclaimed, moving Jey’s hand to the right spot just in time for him to feel a firm little kick.

“Wow, that kick is like a superkick!” Jey laughed, his heart swelling with joy at the sensation. “This kid has some serious energy. Are you sure he’s not training for the ring already?”

Rhea chuckled, her expression playful yet exhausted. “This damn Samoan kid won’t stop! I swear he’s going to be a little fighter.”

Jey smiled, feeling a mix of pride and love. He took a moment to soak in the reality of it all—their journey, the baby, and their future together. “Oh, and I forgot to mention, Trinity and Jon will be in next Friday to sign the papers for their house,” he added casually.

Rhea’s eyes lit up. “That’s great! I miss them.” It was true; ever since moving to Stamford, Rhea and Jey hadn’t had much time to catch up with Jon and Trinity. “Trinity told me they wouldn’t move until April, but I’ve been seeing her pictures. She’s absolutely glowing with those twins.”

Jey nodded, recalling the images of Trinity’s growing belly and the radiant smile she always wore. “Yeah, it’s hard to believe they’re going to have two little ones running around soon. It’ll be great to have them nearby again.”

“Absolutely,” Rhea agreed, her tone laced with anticipation. “It’ll be nice to have family close by, especially with everything happening.” She shifted, wincing slightly as another kick jolted her belly. “This little guy sure knows how to make his presence known.”

Jey laughed, leaning closer to press a kiss to her forehead. “He’s just getting us ready for what’s to come. We’re going to be a wild and crazy family.”

“Wild and crazy, indeed,” Rhea replied, her heart filled with warmth as she intertwined her fingers with his. Together, they lay back against the pillows, dreaming of their future as parents and the adventures that awaited them.

—

April 15th, 2025 7:00 AM

It was 7:00 AM when Rhea rolled out of bed, the sound of her alarm echoing in the quiet morning. After a refreshing shower, she began dressing in her black cami dress, layering a pink “Yeet” crop top over it. The combination felt comfortable yet stylish, perfect for a day at work. However, she struggled to put on her socks, bending down with a slight huff before finally managing to get them on.

Slipping on her Vans, she leaned down to give Jey a soft kiss on the lips. He stirred slightly, responding with a sleepy smile. “Have a good day at work, baby,” he murmured, still half-asleep.

“Get up and set up the crib baby..” Rhea teased, a playful smile spreading across her face.

Jey nodded, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and Rhea leaned down for another kiss before heading downstairs. She grabbed her backpack from the kitchen counter, glancing around the house that was beginning to feel like home. As she made her way to the garage, she could already feel the heaviness of her growing belly. By the time she climbed into her car, she was out of breath but determined to start her day.

Rhea opened the garage door, the cool morning air filling the space, and she navigated her way out of the driveway. The drive to WWE Headquarters was familiar now, and as she parked her car in the covered parking lot, she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

She walked towards her office, the usual hustle and bustle of the building surrounding her. The excitement of a new day at work filled her with energy, but a part of her couldn’t shake off the anticipation of what lay ahead—both at work and at home.

Once she reached her office, Rhea took a deep breath, ready to dive into her work. She flipped on the lights and settled into her chair, excited to tackle the projects lined up for the day while cherishing the vision of her family growing.

—

January 6th, 2025 11:39 AM

Jey leaned over the mechanic’s workbench, arms crossed as he listened to the man explain the unfortunate state of his Jeep. “What do you mean the Jeep is no good?” Jey asked, disbelief etched across his face.

The mechanic, wiping his hands on a rag, sighed and pointed to the engine. “Putting sugar in the gas tank messed everything up. It’s not worth the cost to repair it.”

Jey felt a knot tighten in his stomach. “My fiancée is not going to be happy,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

The mechanic offered a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to sell it to us for parts? I can give you a good deal.”

Jey considered the offer, then nodded. “I’ll have to get with my fiancée first,” he replied before heading to his Mercedes, the weight of the conversation lingering in his mind as he drove back home.

As he approached the house, Jey spotted Rhea perched on a ladder, carefully taking down the Christmas lights. “Really, babe, let me do that,” he called out as he parked.

Rhea looked down, a determined expression on her face. “We have to get this done before the movers come and get everything,” she insisted, tugging at a stubborn strand of lights.

Jey shook his head, stepping closer. “The movers aren’t coming until the 21st babe, We have time.”

Rhea paused, her brow furrowing. “But we still have to get Jeyce enrolled in school, and I have to do a web meet and greet with my new OBGYN, you need to settle on a physical thera-”

Jey cut her off, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “I would really appreciate it if you could stress out in front of me and not on a ladder, babe.”

Rhea groaned, climbing down from her precarious position. “I know, I know, but we have to do everything before the move,” she replied, exasperated.

“Not everything has to happen at once,” Jey reassured her, placing a hand on her waist. “You’re making yourself crazy. What happened to tackling one thing at a time?”

Rhea sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she met his gaze. “You’re right, but it just feels like there’s so much to do.”

“Take a breath,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

Rhea nodded, a small smile breaking through her stress. “Okay, but you’re helping with the lights, too.”

Jey chuckled, the tension between them easing. “Deal. Just promise me you’ll try to take it easy. I don’t want you up on that ladder worrying about everything.”

“I promise,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. As they stood there, surrounded by half-untangled lights and the scent of winter air, Jey couldn’t help but feel a rush of love and excitement for the future they were building together, even amidst the chaos.

Jey held Rhea close, their moment interrupted by a sudden loud yelp that sent a chill down their spines. Both of them exchanged worried glances before bolting inside the house, calling for their dogs. “Barry! Bella! Luna!” Rhea shouted, her heart racing as she scanned the living room for any signs of the dogs.

Rhea’s eyes landed on the back door, ajar and swaying slightly in the breeze. Panic set in. “Jey, the door is open!” she exclaimed, rushing toward it.

“Babe wait!” Jey pleaded, but Rhea was already sprinting outside.

As she reached the porch, her worst fears materialized. Barry lay on the ground, foaming at the mouth, his body trembling uncontrollably. “Oh my God, Barry!” Rhea cried, her voice thick with fear.

Without hesitation, Jey scooped Barry into his arms. “We need to get him to the vet—now!” he said, his tone urgent as they raced toward his Mercedes. Rhea held Barry close, her heart pounding in her chest as Jey slid into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life, and Jey sped down the road, weaving through traffic as he tried to keep his composure. “Just hang in there, buddy,” Rhea murmured to Barry, gently stroking his head. She could feel his little body shaking and fought back tears.

“Rhea do you know if he ate something?” Jey urged, his eyes focused on the road.

“I don’t know! They were just inside..” Rhea replied, panicking.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jey reassured her, his voice steady despite the fear in his own heart. “Just stay calm.”

They pulled into the emergency vet clinic, tires screeching as Jey hopped out and rushed to the back of the car. Rhea followed, clutching Barry tightly. “Please, he needs help!” she cried, her voice rising with desperation as they rushed inside.

A Vet Tech approached them, concern etched across her face. “What happened?”

Jey quickly explained, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “He was fine a minute ago, and then he yelped and started foaming at the mouth. We think he might have eaten something he shouldn’t have!”

The tech nodded, her expression serious as she took Barry from Rhea’s trembling hands. “We’ll take him back right away. Please fill out this form,” she instructed, leading Barry into the back as Rhea’s heart sank.

Rhea quickly filled out the paperwork, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her composure. Jey stood beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “He’s going to be okay,” he whispered, though he didn’t quite believe it himself.

“I just can’t lose him, Jey,” Rhea admitted, her voice cracking. “He’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know,” Jey said, pulling her closer. “We’ll do everything we can for him.”

As they waited, the weight of uncertainty hung heavily in the air, and all Rhea could do was hope and pray that Barry would be okay.

[asexual-abomination]

Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 5

The final part is finally here! It did manage to delete itself a couple of times, but I was finally able to recover it! I really hope you can enjoy this end to the series!

As always, this idea was inspired by the lovely @kiame-sama! I have no traditional education in writing, so any and all advice is appreciated!

Requests will be opening shortly after this goes up, I'm just writing up some final rules!

Hope you enjoy reading!

-----

Night had fallen over the city by the time you were left alone.

You could feel your heart pounding through your body, scared beyond reason by the insane situation you found yourself in.

It seemed to have become a theme in the past few days, carefully setting forth a plan only to be thrown into some absolute catastrophe.

Over the course of the day, you had been dragged around to many random people, security workers and police officers all asking you questions and getting irate when you couldn't tell them everything. Some of them had tried to be kinder to you, speaking in lower tones and going slower, but they were all showed that they were upset when you refused certain details.

You couldn't tell them now, but all you wanted was to keep them safe, hoping that your soulmate would take mercy on them if you were found now. Marnie had been kind enough to keep you company through the entire day, though she wasn't the nicest either, and she had been the last one you saw when she dropped you off at this meagre hotel.

It was a large, cement high rise building on a dimly-lit street, with cheap furniture that probably didn't even get washed between visitors. When you first considered trying to sleep, you found that the blankets were made of scratchy, harsh material that made your whole body cringe away in disgust. That wasn't even to note that they were too light and thin to provide you with any comforting weight.

Anyone would think that you had no more tears to spare today, but as you finally sat on the worn-down chair, you began to choke up with stress. You had heard many counselors and friends say that anxiety could be much like droplets in a bucket, slowly building up in the mind until it could burst into tears, but you had never thought that you would feel stress as immense as this.

There was no need to move right now, you could just cry and choke on your breath, and there was almost something comforting about the all of the emotion of the moment.

That peace that you were trying to enjoy as you sobbed was quickly broken by a new voice in the room.

"(Y/N). I'm sorry."

With a sharp gasp, you looked up to find the intruder, only to see Jo leaned against the far wall of your room. They were looking at you, apologetically staring with sadness in their expression.

"I didn't - I didn't predict that there would be an issue with the airship. Now they've found you." They continue to speak with almost ominous tone, voicing their concern with a tired sigh.

They've found you? Your soulmate? Already? Who were these people, and why were they so obsessed with finding you?

As if you hadn't been overwhelmed enough, Jo had truly decided to drop a bombshell on you at this moment. In utter confusion, you looked towards your friend for any explanation.

Jo sighed again, looking away with despair, "They're minutes away as we speak. We can't run or fight." They paused again, contemplating as they look at you with a soft expression, "I - I don't know what to do."

-----

"Alright! This is where (Y/N)'s being held!" Shalnark's cheery voice rang out through the dark street, cutting through the tense atmosphere surrounding the other Troupe members.

"Would you like one of us to accompany you inside?" Pakunoda asked Chrollo, who stood closest to the building's doors.

The Troupe leader sighed as he turned towards his friend, his expression dropping at her question. He could understand the obsession that the rest of his subordinates had for his soulmate, but he knew that he had to be the first one to see his (Y/N) in person.

They had all seen your little friend sneak in through the window of your room, and Chrollo knew that he wanted the joy of getting rid of them himself. Pakunoda watched his expression carefully, and quickly stepped back, as if to give up on her own question, knowing better than to irritate her boss further.

The remaining members on the scene all took a step back, allowing Chrollo the freedom to enter the building, with a silent promise that no one would be leaving or entering while they stood guard.

-----

To both Chrollo and Jo, there was a deafening silence in this moment. Chrollo stood in the doorway of the small hotel room, not even glancing at his rival, as his eyes were immediately fixated on his soulmate, now finally sat before him.

To you, still sat between these two, there was not quite a silence, as you could hear the soft hum of old electrics hidden in the walls of this dingy place, almost comforting in the face of such intimidating auras.

"(Y/N)!" Chrollo's voice cut through the room, overflowing with joy as he stared at you. He had known that he would be happy in this moment when he could finally lay his own eyes on you, but he could have never predicted the way his heart would twist and flip with bliss in your mere presence.

That bliss was quickly cut off by Jo stepping in front of you, though their breath was shaky with fear at the prospect of fighting in your presence. The second that they had stepped out, Chrollo's expression darkened, as he immediately allowed his aura to flash out, quickly met by Jo's in an equal amount.

Not wanting to hesitate for a moment, Chrollo drew his knife and summoned his book, ready to kill at a moment's notice.

"I let you run once, I think you should be grateful for that, you little pest." His voice had a threatening tone, and though he wouldn't admit it, he almost hoped that Jo would run scared, so that he wouldn't have to kill them.

Against his hopes, your valiant guardian stood firm, though they were shaking just slightly. It was no secret that Chrollo would win this fight, Jo was heavily out of practice and stressed from days without sleep, and Chrollo would stop at nothing to reach his treasured soulmate.

"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.

-----

The Troupe had begun to worry when there was no sign of their boss for nearly 15 minutes, especially given that there hadn't been any sign of violence from within your room.

"Do you think that the boss got ambushed?" Shizuku wondered aloud, not expressing any real anxiety just yet.

"I do not think boss would get ambush that easy." Feitan was more suspicious of the silence, knowing that Chrollo had been very cautious when entering the hotel.

They continued to wait outside of the building, patiently watching every possible exit. Only a few members of the Troupe were here to see the new soulmate, with the rest searching the city for a decent place to keep you temporarily.

"Oh, look!"

Their heads quickly swiveled to the doorway, watching with a level of shock as Chrollo stepped out of the hotel, holding a new figure very close to his side. This new person was hunched, as if on the verge of pulling away from his touch, and was anxiously tugging at something in their hands.

Most of the members present recognized the sweet face of the sought after soulmate, and those who hadn't seen them before promptly caught on. However, that didn't clear up any confusion among the members.

"What happened to their friend? Did you kill them?" Shizuku was once again the first to break the silence, making you flinch at the bold and brash question.

Chrollo was swift in shutting down further questions, pulling you towards the getaway car, before suddenly telling everyone else to leave.

"Everything has been sorted, I'll tell you the details later. Where are we staying?" Chrollo was incredibly brief, a sharp tone to his voice that most Troupe members only heard after they almost botched a mission.

"There's a hotel in the city center that works for the mafia, we've booked you a couple of rooms!" Shalnark tried to walk over towards the car, wanting answers to this whole situation like the others. However, the quick spike in his boss' aura put him off immediately from that idea.

"Good. Send me the details, and I'll contact one of you tomorrow sometime." Once again, the Troupe leader sounded just slightly angered, a great change from his usual demeanor.

Chrollo quickly stepped into the car, breaking his anger for just a moment to glance at you with a soft smile.

"Don't worry about a thing, dear. Thank you so much for working with me here." He quickly began driving, shooting towards the new hotel and away from your friend's solemn gaze in the window.

"We've got our whole lives ahead of us now. Don't think about them too much."

-----

"Wait." Your voice was hushed in the tense atmosphere.

No amount of breathing exercises could have kept you calm in that moment, but you knew that there was no other option in this situation.

"I'll - I'll go with you. Chrollo." You surrendered yourself with fear, wanting to be careful with how you worded every part of this.

As both of their gazes fell on you, every nerve in your body felt as if it froze up, not wanting to speak another word, but knowing you had to.

"If I can prevent one of you from dying, I'd rather end this situation without a fight."

These two were supposed to be the closest people to your heart in the whole world. Jo, your oldest friend who had always protected you from what you couldn't understand in this world, and Chrollo, your destined soulmate, the one that the universe itself claimed would be the greatest friend that you could ever have.

You had understood since you were young that you wouldn't often be able to truly affect the world around you, always to slow to catch on or say something, but in this moment you could save someone you love, so you had to do something.

"(Y/N), no! Don't be stupid for me!" Jo was quick to interject, evidently trying to drag you back to your senses.

"I think it's their choice to make." Chrollo's deeper voice rang out through the room, reverberating through what felt like your whole body, a soft smirk appearing on his features.

"Look. I..." You trailed off, almost not ready to be so bold in what you were going to say next, "I want to keep both of you safe, and, well, from where I stand, the best way to do that is to end this... peacefully."

"Well then, come here." With his small smirk growing into a wide grin, Chrollo opened his arms just slightly, welcoming you in.

You felt almost to weak to stand, and as you did many times when you felt weak in the past, you looked to Jo.

"I won't stop you, I mean, I can't." They spoke after a brief pause, "But this is the wrong decision."

Although your heart was pained by their words, you knew that you had to take this next step on your own, for their own safety.

So, with shaky strides as Jo stepped to the side, you moved towards Chrollo, right into his waiting arms. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you in tight to his chest, not letting you see the evil grin he sent Jo's way.

"Let's go, dear, everyone's waiting."

With all that had happened, you felt a lot less need to hold back your tears.

-----

Thanks for reading!

[helaintoloki]

The Mother of All Prizes

pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: slight angst, language, mentions of alcohol, fluff

prompts: #21: “I fight for her” / #31: “I care about you, and I just want you to be happy” / #35: “Help him first”

*taken from this prompt list

“If you puke on me I’m going to drop kick you,” Luther’s warning voice sounds from the doorway, prompting you to abandon the book you’d been engrossed in and rush out to greet him. Five had been missing for most of the day, and it was your consistent nagging and pestering that finally convinced Luther and Diego to go out looking for him.

“Five!” You exclaim, relief immediately washing over you at the sight of him relatively safe and sound in his brother’s arms. “I was so worried about you, what the hell happened?”

“Found him passed out drunk in the library,” Diego explains with slight annoyance in his voice. “I think your boyfriend might be an alcoholic.”

“He’s not an alcoholic, he just likes his liquor,” you defend with a scowl, your features immediately softening as you look upon Five. He has a content smile on his face as he looks up at you, his speech slurred as he reaches out in an attempt to trail his fingertips along your cheek.

“You love me,” he drawls with a sly smile.

“For some reason, yes, I do,” you reply with a slight scrunch of your nose before looking towards his brothers. “Get him to bed. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“Now hold on just a minute,” Diego interjects, “your little boyfriend has been nothing but a pain in the ass all night, and I’m not about to play babysitter for some small man child.”

“Help him first,” you say sternly. “If you want to be an asshole after you tuck him into bed I won’t stop you.”

A scoff of disbelief leaves the Kraken at being bossed around by what is essentially a little girl, but he begrudgingly does as you say and follows Luther up the stairs, leaving you to your own devices. You’re tired and all you want to do is kick off your shoes and launch yourself into bed and crawl underneath the covers, but you know there’s no time to rest when the literal end of the world is only days away. You knew what you were getting into the moment you met Five, and it was much too late to change your mind now— not that you wanted to.

There’s no caffeine in the house so you settle for whipping up a nice, fresh cup of water and a bottle of aspirin to alleviate the eventual hangover Five will experience once he comes down from his drunken stupor. Upstairs in his room Luther and Diego are trying to wrestle the boy into bed despite his ceaseless protests about having to go save the world.

“You can’t do anything if you’re drunk,” Luther tries to argue. “Y/n’s coming right now with some coffee. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I have to save the world for y/n,” Five drawls as firmly as he can, “I fight for her. That’s why I’m here putting up with you.”

“Okay, that’s it-”

“Thank you boys, I’ve got it from here,” you announce from the doorway much to Luther’s relief. Another second with Five and things would not have ended well.

“Good luck,” Luther says sarcastically with a clap to your back before swiftly exiting with Diego in tow, leaving you alone with Five who looks at you as if you hang the moon and the stars in the sky.

“Here,” you say with a small sigh, offering him the glass of water. “I couldn’t find any coffee so you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning for me to stop at Griddy’s and get you a cup.”

Five drinks from the glass with greedy gulps, droplets of water dribbling down his chin and soaking into the fabric of his dress shirt, though he doesn’t seem to mind. You set the aspirin on the nightstand and open the nearby window to rid his room of the stuffiness that contaminates the air. His eyes never leave your form, and if he stares long enough he can almost envision you staring up at the starless sky while you sit in a sea of apocalyptic debris. You were so lonely...

“Are you happy?” Five blurts out suddenly, startling you and catching you off guard all at once.

“Am I happy?” You repeat, brows furrowed slightly and your lips scrunched in that same little pout you always wear when you’re confused or in deep thought.

“Yeah, happy,” he reiterates with a passive wave of his hand.

“I am,” you nod, sincerity clear on your features. “But why does that matter right now?”

“Because,” Five slurs, his arm clumsily falling back beside him on the mattress, “I care about you, and I just want you to be happy. I want everyone to be happy, even if it means I’m not...”

“Five...”

“No,” he interrupts you as he holds a single finger up in your direction, “I don’t want any of that. None of that. You can’t see the things I’ve seen and know what I know and still be happy, it doesn’t work like that. Saving the world from complete obliteration isn’t supposed to fill me with joy. But keeping you and my siblings safe? Now that is the mother of all prizes.”

“I think,” you begin to say carefully, your words floating delicately through the air, “you should get some rest. You’re not going to be very happy with yourself in the morning.”

“Happy,” Five repeats with the click of his tongue. “It really is a heavy loaded word if you think about it.”

“I try not to.”

“But you’re happy?”

“Yes. And I’ll be even happier if you just lie down and go to sleep.” That gets a smile out of the boy, and with a small huff through his nose he lies back and shuts his eyes.

“What would I do without you?”

“Get black out drunk in the middle of a library,” you say with a small snort.

“Well, at least I know it wasn’t your sense of humor that attracted me to you,” Five says offhandedly, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the small gasp that leaves you.

“Just shut up and go to sleep,” you grumble, but there’s a fond smile on your lips as you tuck him into bed and press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Gladly.”

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one. 

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,��� he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

[mightysteelix]

Hunger - A Bleach Weight Gain Story

Yeah, another finished story. In the clichéd plot (but who reads kink stories for the plot), Grimmjow discovers the joys of fast food and being Grimmjow, goes too far with his newfound passion.

Grimmjow growled. The orange bastard had dropped him to lounge on the bed, counting the seconds while he came back. “Amuse yourself,” Ichigo had said before nudging the door close. “I’ll be home once college ends!”

“And how you propose doing that?” Grimmjow roared after him, but the strawberry ignored him and ran to catch the bus or something. Grimmjow did not care about the human world customs; it was a temporary lodging until Ichigo tired of it and came to Hueco Mundo.

At least, that was the plan. But his patience was stretched thin, and he wanted to tear the flat so that Ichigo had one reason less to stay. He barely held himself back - and the mocking mustache guy on most book covers made it worse. That face was made for being slashed.

If Grimmjow went and destroyed everything, Ichigo would only anger - onetime fury, which would not help him. Fine, no wanton destruction, no matter how much Grimmjow wanted it. How should an Arrancar enjoy this boredom?

Leaving? Grimmjow snorted. He had to stuff himself in a damn uncomfortable gigai that was tight in the wrong places and limited his powers until he was a weak human. Why would he wear it? If he left as is, one pathetic shinigami or another would chase him and waste his day with the blandest fight ever. They should send captains after him, at least!

He did not do much in the tiny apartment, either. The TV set lost its charm after a few hours of sitting; why did humans enjoy it like a bunch of brain-dead zombies? Another thing he would never understand. And reading Ichigo’s extensive collection of ‘The Canterbury Tales’ or ‘The Waste Land’? He would rather fight the weakest shinigami! (It had happened once - that fourth squad twerp, who only flailed and ran.)

What did Ichigo enjoy about this life? It was bland, long-drawn, and so secure that Grimmjow was going to be sick. Where was the excitement of fighting for one’s life? Where was the push to survive and grow stronger? How had someone like the strawberry become so powerful in such a peaceful place? In Hueco Mundo, they’d be at the top of the food chain; hell, they could kick Tier off her throne and show her the real boss!

As he thought of that, Grimmjow’s stomach rumbled. “Could have let me hunt, at least,” he murmured while patting his abs above his Hollow hole. “But no, even that would be too much.” Pluses were off-limits, per Ichigo’s orders - not that he cared about his opinion. Still, if he angered him too much, it would give him a fight - and also break whatever connection they had. He could chase a random Hollow or two, but they tasted like shit. Anything short of a Menos Grande wasn’t worth the effort.

“Damn, where did he throw it?” Ichigo wasn’t starving him. He had explained something about ordering takeout and left a number on a note, along with some paper scraps. It could not be that easy (who gave food for them), and Grimmjow would have to force himself in the gigai, but if it quelled the hunger, he would handle it.

One phone call later, the extra-large menu was on its way, and Grimmjow was forcing himself into the damned artificial body. The cursed shopkeeper must have made it uncomfortable on purpose. Grimmjow felt as if his clothes - two sizes too small - would tear apart at the first movement. Still, somehow he dragged himself to the door, picked the food, and gave the papers. He even got some metal pieces - spare change or something like that.

Fine, perhaps the living world was not completely shitty. But the food had to taste worse than the sand. It couldn’t be so easy!

Grimmjow sniffed the burger and licked his lips. It smelt delicious - but not in the way of freshly killed souls. His fangs tore an enormous chunk of the meal, and he gulped down. Then he had another bite. And another. Compared to Pluses, it was still nothing. To the rubbery butter as hell Menos Grande? A universe of difference - and all that a mere phone call away as long as he could throw some papers.

Once they ran to Hueco Mundo, Grimmjow would struggle for food once again. One never knew when they would find prey in that dark desert. So, why not let himself enjoy a chance any Hollow would kill for? He would order those extra-large menus over and over until the money ran out. Ichigo had told him to amuse himself, had he not?

----

In the past few weeks, Grimmjow had realized some things. First: not hunting the food down was damn amazing. Second: human foods had more variety than the Menos. And third - most important: he had to try them.

Once the door slapped shut behind Ichigo today - “I’m coming back soon, I promise!” - Grimmjow punched the number of a pizza place. His stomach growled; he could barely stand hunger. A horrible habit for Hueco Mundo, where food was scarce. But here, where he could stuff himself after a single call - not a problem! His lips dried as he ordered all the snacks he wanted: a pizza after a pizza, heavy with toppings and sauces, plus countless bottles of soda.

“Twenty minutes!” Grimmjow roared as he slammed the phone close. “I’ll starve!” At least, it gave him enough time to force himself into the gigai. The constant junk food was a godsend for his appetite, but not his waistline. His trim body - sculpted by the harsh life - had succumbed to the calories, and now he sported a new, soft belly. If he sucked in and flexed, he could still notice the distant memory of abs. Not that it mattered. Grimmjow wanted to eat; anything else was secondary. The damned strawberry had better decide to pack his things for Hueco Mundo before Grimmjow grew even larger.

Although - an insatiable smile formed on his face - if he gained so much, he would frighten most of his enemies. Who would want to challenge a wrecking ball of an Arrancar? Grimmjow patted his belly and felt it jiggle. It was small, far from a proper gut. If he wanted to reach that size, he had to double - no, triple! - his efforts. To keep his stomach stuffed and stretched, always seeking more. To eat and eat, to be pinned under the weight of his overfilled stomach and force more greasy fries and sugary donuts in his maw. To grow unrivaled, unstoppable, gargantuan.

Grimmjow got hard. Fuck, where was the pizza? He had to stuff himself on the verge of a food coma and jerk off now!

Fine, he’d get in the gigai to pass the time.

Was the damned thing always so tight? The washboard, fake abs pressed over his newly formed flab. The pecs cramped his sightly sagging moobs. His arms and legs felt squished into sausage casings. Did the cursed shopkeeper expand those? To hell, even if he did! Grimmjow would not ask him! He’d break this one and order a bigger size!

Slowly - because at any sudden movement, the thing would split at his stomach, and Grimmjow wanted to juice as many uses as possible - he stood by the door and waited. At the set hour - roughly the same every day - Grimmjow opened, took the tower of pizzas, and threw the man his money. “Be faster next time!” Not that it mattered; next time, he would buy something else.

Finally, he left the damned gigai. And for the best, since that puny fake body would not survive longer. Grimmjow plopped on the bed and rubbed his achy belly. His fingers sank in the soft flesh.

“You’ve rested enough,” Grimmjow decided, opened the first box, and grabbed a pizza slice. The gooey, salty cheese melted on his tongue, and he forced it whole in his mouth before he could sample it better. Damn - he’d eat the second one slower for a better sense. Expect, as soon as the greasy slice entered his mouth, he devoured it to sate his craving. Fine, he’d stuff himself first and then taste-test! In quick succession, the slices disappeared. One pizza had not made a dent in his hunger. At least he had nine more.

His belly rumbled. “Time to see if Hollows are truly insatiable!” Slices full of spicy meats and dense, caloric cheese were devoured by his gluttonous mouth. His fingers stained with grease, but he did not care - not as long as he had more to eat. His gut pushed out with every gulp, expanded, and still roared for more. Not bad - but he could do much, much better.

The second pizza - this one with multiple cheese toppings - was almost nothing, either. Grimmjow felt a faint sense of fullness, weak but there. His hunger won over it as he gulped the third one. The rim of his pants was digging in his belly and pressed deeper and deeper with each hearty gulp. He winced; he should take them off, but that meant that he would stop stuffing his face for a second; a second, when he would not chew and swallow. As if!

The fullness was replaced by a dull ache which would only grow stronger. How would it not when Grimmjow’s gut was protruding over him like a dome and poked out more and more before his eyes? It was sticking out, rounded than it had ever been, filled to the brim with food. And it rumbled for more.

Grimmjow was even hornier. Hastily, he devoured the rest of pizza number four and - using both hands - began feeding himself the fifth one. He did not tend to his dick as the Arrancar’s natural limitless hunger forced him to engorge himself into total temporary immobility. And through the mist of arousal, greed, and pain, he missed the door opening.

----

Ichigo entered his home. “Hey, Grimmjow!” he shouted in the small apartment. Strange: no murderous, bored out of his mind kitty had pounced on him. “Speak up if you’re jerking off again because I don’t want to see it!”

No reply. Ichigo shrugged, guessed it was safe enough, and entered the bedroom. A risk he should not have taken.

He’d rather have caught Grimmjow jerking off - then he could explain why he was so flustered. Instead, he had to deal with an overfed, bloated, greedy Arrancar, whose football-sized gut jutted out of his body, and he still was reaching for the next slice of pizza. Ichigo bit his lip. He was absolutely not getting hard at that sight!

He had to act. No, he should have acted when Grimmjow wasted so much cash on food or when he got softer. Actually, Ichigo did one thing: he left his not-exactly-boyfriend-but-more-than-a-fuck-buddy more money to satisfy his gluttony and hoped he would stop at a reasonable point. Except - and he knew it too well to be a mistake - Grimmjow was the opposite of reasonable.

“Are you only gonna watch, or you’ll help?” Grimmjow fisted his gut - taut like a drum - and drew Ichigo’s attention. “Bring the pizza to my mouth, for example! With this overfilled tank in the way, it’s painful to reach for it!” The stuffed sphere responded with a low rumble. The recently gained layer of flab was stretched, and it was rock hard to the touch.

He had eaten himself into temporary immobility and wanted more? Amazing. If Ichigo went and fed him... No! He shook his head. It was anything but amazing!

Even if Grimmjow had missed Ichigo’s growing erection, he must have seen his burning red face.

“Did a Hollow eat your ears? Come and feed me. I’m starving here!” A strong pat, accompanied by a loud echo, dried Ichigo’s lips.

Starving. Ichigo gulped. Four empty boxes were haphazardly thrown around the floor. The fifth one was lying nearby. All that food and Grimmjow still needed to indulge his gluttony more. If this kept on, Ichigo would jizz his underpants like a dumb, horny teenager.

And the Arrancar did not help. “Or take off my damned tight pants.” His fingers tweaked near their hem. The engorged gut left no breathing space, and if Ichigo pulled them down, he would find a sore, red line.

Cold shower: Ichigo needed one. Otherwise, he would make a very hasty, horrible decision.

“Or rub my belly, at least, because this thing is pretty packed.” Grimmjow gave it a few powerful pats. It gurgled, and the Arrancar let out a long-drawn burp. “Ya see?” Oh, Ichigo definitely did. Grimmjow had eaten like a ravenous beast, encouraged by Ichigo’s ever-growing sponsorship. Now, Ichigo was not sure if Grimmjow could eat without thrashing restraint. And it was all his fault.

Fine, Ichigo would think with his dick this time! “You want to be fed?” He came closer with a single shunpo and grabbed a slice. “Better prepare because I’m doing it!”

[jemej3m]

hi i love love love your writing! sorry if people have been asking this but ive been looking for a part three of your lawyer!andrew and neil is on trial for killing his father and I wasnt sure if I missed it or if you haven’t continued it. Just wondering thank you ❤️

well GUEsS WHAT MY FRIEND 

its here!!!

(p1 / p2)

*

Andrew didn’t like to drag things out, but the prosecution did. They always did. It was their only joy in life, especially in appeals: tease every possible fraying strand of a case till they were three weeks into the trial and the jury was dead on their feet. 

And yet, here he was, on the second day of his closing. He’d never made it to a second day: once he’d finished a closing in five minutes. 

Neil had grown progressively more antsy over the three weeks, desperate for a resolution. Every time he was scanned into court, Andrew took his favourite key and slipped it into his pocket. Every time he left to be escorted back to his temporary holding cell in Baltimore’s central policing station, he gave it back for safekeeping. Andrew would hold it, the metal still warm to the touch, the teeth of the key worn with how many times Neil would run the tips of his fingers over it. 

Professionalism, Betsy had warned him. 

But damn it all to hell: Andrew was gone. 

“Mr Minyard, if you would continue where we left off last night?” the judge drawled. Andrew could read people better than books: it wasn’t looking good. This was his last chance.

He stood up, shoved down the strange anger that had simmered beneath his skin every time the prosecution slid their pompous gazes over him, and closed his laptop. His briefcase. Put away his notes and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his slacks. 

“Your honour,” he said, with as much grace as his perpetually bored tone allowed. “This case is beyond that of my client. That much we can all agree upon.”

He waited for an answer. 

The judge cocked her head. “Yes, Minyard.” 

“It is a gruesome story of a luckless, loveless marriage, made for the sakes of alliances and blood money. Mary Wesninski paid that price with her life, when her husband took his favourite weapon - a cleaver - to her throat. My client was 17 when that happened. He was a minor. A child.” 

He turned to the jury. “Over and over, I have rebutted the prosecution’s solitary and feeble argument that my client is Nathan Wesninski’s son. The very Nathan Wesninski who earned his name, the Butcher, through bloody campaigns and fearmongering. That Nathaniel Wesninski was destined to follow his father’s path and continue his legacy.” 

“If it weren’t for his mother, perhaps he would have,” Andrew said, rocking back on his heels. “Without intervention, there’s no doubt that Nathaniel Wesninski would have been a carbon copy of his predecessor, and just as bloodthirsty. But that man -” he pointed at Neil. “That man is not Nathaniel Wesninski. Not in the way his father wanted him to be.”

“We’ve seen the pictures of my client’s torso. The bullet wounds and gruesome knifings that he earned whilst clawing desperately to free himself from his father’s iron grasp. Worse still: we’ve seen the proof of a tormented childhood, skin torn off by a hot iron, stitches from misplaced butter knives at the dinner table when Junior, seven years old, didn’t sit still enough. A crooked nose, broken three times before he managed to escape.”

He looked to the one woman who he knew would recognise this pain, this trauma. 

“You should have no doubt in your minds that this man here, my client,” Andrew said, voice lowered down. “This man was simply fighting for his life. He was running from his worst nightmare, clawing desperately for freedom when all he’d known was pain, chains and despair. He fought against what his father wished for him, every step of the way. In self-defence, he rid the world a serial killer. A rapist. A man who had committed every atrocity known to humankind. If anything, we should be thanking him.”

The room had gone deathly quiet. 

“Ask yourselves,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Is purging the world of a monster that monstrous of a thing to do?”

He turned back to the judge. 

“My client has served his time. He’s done twice as long as he should have for manslaughter, which is the true nature of this crime. Repeatedly, my client has expressed his willingness to comply with parole measures and prove himself a functioning member of our society. If you have any humanity left within you,” 

He looked over his shoulder at Neil. The man held his gaze, blue eyes so intense that Andrew nearly lost his train of thought. 

“Any humanity at all,” he continued. The judge looked down at him, face blank. “You would grant his mother her dying wish, and finally let this injustice rest.” 

He returned to his desk. “That’s all, your honour.” 

It took her a few moments to clear her throat and call: “Court adjourned.”

Two policemen came and cuffed Neil’s hands behind his back. Andrew had done everything he could: it was out of his hands now. He mightn’t ever see Neil again, if by the afternoon the jury had decided Neil’s pleas were worthless and had him sent him right back to maximum security. 

“Thank you,” the man said, just before he was turned away. “You were amazing.” 

Andrew remained very still until the courtroom was empty. 

Now all he could do was wait.

*

“The ‘dying wish’ thing was intense,” Matt commented around a mouthful of falafel. Dan flicked a crumb off his tie, looking at him with an irritated fondness. Both of them -  Wymack too - had sat in for both days of his closing. Dan because she pretended she had any sense of authority over Andrew, Wymack because he was Andrew’s boss, and Matt because he was fatally friendly and had never missed a closing of any of his coworkers, even Andrew. 

“The whole thing was intense,” Dan grumbled. 

“I bet the sexual tension was off the charts,” Allison called out, kicked up her feet onto her desk as she ignored Renee’s unsubtle shushing. 

Andrew ignored them all. 

“We’re just waiting for the verdict?”

“We’ll be called in when the jury’s ready.” 

“It’s been two days. They’ve dragged this on long enough.” 

The phone on his desk started ringing. He shoved it against his ear and said “What.”

“Mr Minyard? This is Amy Johnston from the Post, I was just wondering if you wanted to comment on the outcome of your most recent case -”

He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver, jolting his coworkers out of their idle chatter. He was going to kill Nicky for letting the press through. His cousin was useless, and the press were even worse: there was no outcome. The jury had been silent for 2 days, and at this rate, it’d probably go into three. 

Wymack texted him. I know you’re still at the office. Go home. 

 Andrew didn’t need to be told twice. 

He careened his ludicrously expensive car into the driveway of his small home. Being a lawyer did have its perks, even if his fellows were curious busybodies and he got attached to impossible cases. He’d crack a better whisky tonight and herald in the news of him impending failure half drunk. 

He was never taking a case like this again. Of course, there was no case quite like Nathaniel Wesninski’s, but the point still remained.  

He unlocked his front door, stepped inside, and immediately stilled. 

The heater was on. 

His briefcase, blazer and tie came off, thrown haphazardly in the general direction of Andrew’s study. When he entered his kitchen, he skidded to a stop. 

“Hi,” Neil said, skin far more bronze without the gaudy orange jumpsuit. Andrew just stared. The man ducked his head down, lacing his fingers behind his back. “I - uh, I got Wymack to call you in sick for the verdict. Wanted to surprise you.” 

“You knew,” Andrew said. “You knew the outcome?”

“Of course,” Neil snorted. “Had to do something with the bloodmoney. Don’t worry, it was only two of them. The rest you had hooked.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Andrew said flatly. Neil’s grin flashed, but he was clearly way out of his depth here. Free and nervous about it. Here, because he thought that Andrew would be the only one that cared. 

And he did. For the first time, he did. 

The man gestured at his ankle. “18 months parole. It’s a bit heavy but I’ll get used to it with time, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, curls bouncing. “Gotta find somewhere to live, I suppose. Figure out how normal life works. I’m applying for a name change: the first random name generator on Google gave me Josten, so that’s probably what I’ll go with.”

“You’re a disaster,” Andrew managed, fighting every urge not to reach out and comb his fingers through the man’s hair. 

“What else is new?” Neil joked. 

“You said you’d go to law school.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re holding me to that?” 

Andrew shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“I suppose you’ll regret taking me on when I end up stealing your cases,” Neil teased, leaning a little closer. 

Andrew reached up and tugged on Neil’s collar. “I don’t believe in regret. But I sure as hell will give you the challenge.”

Neil’s lips quirked up at the side, warping his scars and making Andrew’s chest ache.

“Stay,” Andrew said, softer than he intended. 

And, now that he could choose to, Neil Josten, freshly minted and definitely real, whispered: “Okay.”

*

wow only months later did i finally figure out what i wanted from this 

srry its so short!!

[writing-frenzy]

Care to Make a Wager? (SVSSS Fic)

Summery: No System AU: In which Airplane finds he has a new lease in life, but of course it would have a cost. Of course, being the creator of this world gives him quiet the price cut. Not to mention the untended bonus content.

Still, he did not expect the direction his life would go.

(Warning: mentions of death, violence, and most stuff you could find in SVSSS Canon. You should be good, but here is a just in case.)

---

When one Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was reborn, he really wanted to curse his lot in life. Sure, he had been born into a rather well off Merchant Family, but when the Lord of the Family has two Official Wives and a crap ton of Mistresses on the side, things were bound to get crazy.

Luckily one Shang Huan had one hell of a Mother; in another life, Airplane might have described her as a ‘killer queen or a ‘boss ass bitch’, but as his mother, he just thought of her as the most amazing woman on the planet. As it was, She alongside a whole bunch of tutors taught him everything he needed to know about the world and then some. 

(Sewing was a bitch to get right.)

But with those lessons, it didn’t take long for Shang Huan to realize he was in his own fucking novel; it had not been a happy realization, making him break out into a truly childish tantrum, filled with screaming and tears that only calmed after he was given some delicious melon seeds.

(Luckily it had been attributed to wanting a snack after a morning full of lessons, otherwise he probably would have gotten the switch for it...)

But with all this knowledge of his place in life now with him, Shang Huan needed to start planning; good thing that was one of his specialties.

Noting down every bit of information he could, Shang Huan mapped out as much items and cheats he could afford to take from the Protagonist, as well as places he could and couldn’t go, hazel eyes narrowed as he messily scratched out his plots with his trusty quill and journal. The many lessons he Mother made him go through only helped to sharpen him, as well as learn the world’s common sense.

He was having a good go at it, building himself up as much as he could before something completely from left stage truly changed his course.

“There is a legend of Dreaming Glory, said to be a treasure to ensure great health and excellent rest. Though be cautious, for it is guarded carefully by the spirit of a Felled Divine Beast, angry and resentful of the betrayal it had faced.” was a tale a wandering storyteller spun, a group of children ooooing and awwwwing at the right places, even as Airplane felt his jaw drop at the information, focusing more on those words then the candy his mother allowed him to buy at one of the festival stalls.

See, while the Legend of the Dreaming Glory was definitely right at home with this world, it actually hadn’t been anywhere in Proud Immortal Demon Way; it had been in one of his earlier short stories, where Airplane had been practicing with the Xianxia/Xuanhuan genres (and didn’t need to rely on it, dreaming more of the theater then writing). (Until a mugging gone wrong and dreams cut short-) 

This... opened a few more roads then expected, especially if all his fantasy stories came into play, as there had been a lot of experimentation with plots and ideas until he hit his cash cow with PIDW. After all, taking something from the protagonist was always going to be a risk of somehow getting his attention, no matter how much the man wouldn’t actually need it.

(After all, showing off had always been a part of Luo Binghe’s character; showing that he was no longer the penniless street kid, no longer the weak disciple, no longer the one who was always pushed around, but now the one who can take.)  

It also meant more research; thankfully, his Mother was one to always encourage more in the way of learning, thankfully humoring all the ‘trips’ he wished to take.... In hindsight, he probably should have questioned why she was always willing to take him and go, but at the time was just thankful that he could indeed confirm places he would need to visit later and squirrel away items that were within his reach. (An actual legit Cultivation Manuel, even if it was only directed for growing crops and alchemy, was still his most proudest find, only needing a riddle to get and easily hidden in his pouch with his other learning books. Being an Author only got him so far, as every little detail was needed to ensure one stayed on a steady path, though did provide it’s own little boosts here and there.)

------=------

One day, when Shang Huan had been 13, sneakily already past the first part of Cultivation Qi Refining and entering into the first stage of Foundation Building, found his Mother to be ill, no Doctors seeming to be able to cure her (or willing too as he saw a servant of the Second Wife slip a few gold; he got his revenge in the end), Shang Huan took a deep breath and buckled down, doing all that his Mother said to do with the time she had left, learning as much as he could before it would no longer be open to him. 

(Like he could stay here in this den of vipers, without his Mother’s protection and love; there was nothing else for him here after all.)

In that time as his Mother stubbornly clung on, he listened as she mourned his chance to enter into the prestigious Cultivation Sect of Cang Qiong like the First Wife’s Third Son, Shang Shaoqing. She apologized greatly that she could not fight for him to get that chance, like so many of the other Mistresses did for their own children.

‘Huh,’ Airplane couldn’t help but think, ‘looks like I just dodged a arrow.’ though it was good to finally know just what the timeline was for the story; Shang Shaoqing was to be a certain traitorous Peak Lord after all.

As it was, his Mother showed her determination and spirit greatly, lasting till he was 16 before she finally past away, a smile on her face as she did, her son long gone with his inheritance and her blessing of broken ties, carrying her name meaning of Shang instead of his Father’s.

(If the night before, Shang Huan had decided to tell her of his other life, told her how this was a story he had happened to read, showing her a few of the treasure he had gathered, how he cried when Shang Wenyan had only smiled with a few too many teeth, her voice fierce as she praised her son with all her heart, hugging him close with what remained of her strength as she told him her last words.

“Live life however you want my child, live and dream and hope, do not be afraid to destroy any your way, and know I will love you always my greatest pride and joy.”

Well... no one needed to know about that.)

But with this new freedom came it’s cons as much as it’s pros. As he was stuck at a bottleneck in Foundation Building at Middle Stage, there was still a number of things outside his reach until at least Core Formation First Stage...

------=------

It was during his wandering, selling talismans he could make at his level, along with tales he made up that he finally got his big break.

He first heard tales of a powerful Resentful Spirit that was residing in a broken land near the Borders, no one from Demons to Humans wanting the land as it was deemed useless for all the resentful energy there, and no one bothering to pay a sect for what they considered a waste of money and time.

Shang Huan saw this, and wonder if it was what he recognized... Taking in more details and scoping out for any information, Airplane couldn’t help but wonder how lucky it was; this was indeed a spirit from one of his very first stories in fact. He knew exactly what to do.

Instead of fighting the Resentful Spirit, Shang Huan brought it pure cave water and incense, smelling of ash and jasmine. 

This certainly got the Spirit’s attention.

“What do you want Rogue?”

“I want for many things to be honest.” the brunet Cultivator smiled, not showing any teeth so as to make it look falsely gentle, “But for now, I admit I do desire your land.”

That got a huff for his efforts, the spirit a mass of negativity and ire, but actually still listening.

“You have provided the right offering, so I will give you a chance; bring me wine of the Soothing Jade Flower, the Broken Sword of Chun, and a branch of Deathly Yew... You get me these three things, and the land will be yours.” And with that shopping list given, the spirit was gone, even as the energy seemed thicker then before, the incense and water gone.  

And with an absolutely evil grin, Airplane was off; he had already remembered the Wine and branch, had even gotten them first as he had plans for them, but he had not remembered the broken blade.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too hard to find; he had written that the blade had been struck with a heavy stone in a battle between Demons and Cultivators on the borders of the land, where it would lay forever. And lo and behold, there was only one ancient battlefield it could be abandoned in, as this was PIDW.

There weren’t many left over from the borders after all, most of them being purified already. And as he thought, the Bloody Sword Grave was still around, a testament to just how much the resentful energy had soaked into the ground, demons and cultivators alike avoiding the place like the plague, even as bloody rusted swords stayed stabbed into the ground, their thirst and hatred still felt even to this day.

Couldn’t be compared to Xin Mo of course, but for being swords on the surface they sure were impressive. Ignoring all these deadly, intact blades stabbed into the ground, Shang Huan covered his face with a scarf drenched in purified Qi infused water, even as the talisman he sewed on for defense and purity glowed the more he traveled through.

He finally stopped at a blood splattered rock, digging carefully around it as he did, before he managed to pull out four broken pieces of what had once been a beautiful blade, but was now nothing but shambles and rags.

Having what he needed, Airplane made his way back to the spirit and their lands.

------=------

(This deadly spirit of a truly terrible Cultivator, who had been feared and revered for being a monster on the battlefield... cried as they saw the items laid out before them.

“Ah, no my Han-Er, my beloved figher... why you stupid, loveable fool...” The Spirit sobbed, easily using his energy to clean and reformed the blade, manipulating the energies of the other two items to aid it, ensuring the sword would still be pure, hugging it close even as it seemed to damage them.

“... He tried, to come back to you; his fellow soldiers betrayed him... He loved you so much... still does.” Shang spoke, watching as the spirit that laid resting in the blade finally came out with this truth, purifying the other as they did, along with most of the land around them.

The brunet had to look away from their reunion, their emotions a bit too much for him... This had been one of his first tragedies he had written, a solider and their beloved separated because of jealousy and hate, doomed to wait for each other forever, the solution to be so easy to have, if someone had given them a bit of kindness, to discover the truth of their separation, though never given the chance in the end... He never mention just what the Beloved’s gender was, made it ambiguous, but had in his mind of minds always thought of them as a man...

Maybe he shouldn’t have put too much of himself into his work, but a habit is so hard to break.

“... We truly thank you; as promised, the land is now yours to do with as you see fit; all you need to do is put your name on the deed and your blood into the ward stone. All the treasures inside are now rightfully in your ownership, so mote it be.” was announced, making Shang Huan turn to see two beautiful and handsome men smiling at him, before they bowed seeing they had his attention.

Airplane could only bow back, biting on the words of how he owed to them to do this at least.

And with that, they were gone, to enter finally into the cycle of reincarnation, together at last...)

------=------

Having his own place was wonderful; a lot of work, but wonderful all the same.

The wards around his land ensured no one with malice could actually enter it, along with protections against thieves and robbers like most noble Sects had. Shang Huan even went as far as to make sure he owned the plot of land in the official records, having everything stamped and recognized, even as he made sure no one actually looked too closely at what land it actually was.

He even made sure to pay his yearly taxes to the Emperor on time, making sure everything was nicely recorded and logged. (And seeing as he didn’t live in any town or such, he didn’t have to bother paying anything to any Lords for protection! How nice was that?)

But having a base of operations, one with land rich in Qi and perfect for Cultivating on, it not only gave Airplane security, but many other advantages as well.

He now had a place to securely put all the treasures he had gathered, which was a lot considering it was a variety of weapons, valuables, and even priceless seeds to plant. He could be completely self-sufficient as he cultivated, the spirits on the land easily convinced to do chores in exchange for sweets and treats (And being able to live in such a energy rich place). Not to mention how his Cultivation not only went up, but combined with other manuals that were treasures of the home, Shang was set on his way to being a powerful Cultivator in his own right.

And if he was feeling a bit cooped up, he could always go on journeys around his world, exploring and treasure hunting for odds and ends as he saw fit.

Soon enough, Shang Huan had managed to reach 34 years old, entering the Peak of Nascent Soul stage in his cultivation when, in a bit of boredom and interest, he bought out a debt ridden gambling house on the border of his territory, that rested in a ghost-like town on the border of the Human World and the Demon Realm.

It was, quiet frankly, just something to do to pass the time. It wasn’t too hard to fix the place up, and warding it had been a fun challenge of his skills, but he honestly hadn’t expected anything much of it, just putting a few of his lessor needed or easily replenished treasure up to be won. And making it to where anything bet could only be what one had to bet, alongside making sure others would have to honor it had been a fun spell to create, as he really didn’t want to be bothered by liars and braggarts and then having to chase them down. He even just made up some Golems and bargained with a few willing natural spirits to help run the place.

This was just suppose to be a fun little venture; he never expected it to blow up like it did.

------=------

It started slow; a trickle, with a whisper, a simple rumor.

There is a place where priceless treasure could be won; if you’re willing to bet for it that is. But be careful to not bite off more then you can chew, for it might be more then a bit of blood and coins you lose.

Some poor sods have even lost their very souls to the place, even now working where screams and laughter flow so freely to the terrible click the dice, the gentle flap of the cards.

It is a place no Mortal is safe, where no Demon has promise, where a Cultivator is honor bound to accept what is due; after all, no one has to enter the place, no one needs to keep coming back, no one has to bet their all, not all all. 

But oh, how they come; even those who dare not darken the doorway of that gambling hall come, filling what was once an empty town into one practically bustling with life. Funny, how it came about because of such a deadly place.

And oh, do not even bother messing with the Gilded Plane Gambling Hall’s Owner, a man who at first seems so weak and stumbling, so gentle and busy with their hard work, who at first couldn’t hurt a fly even as he smiles so prettily.

He’ll smile that same smile even as you sell your very soul at his tables, those gorgeous hazel eyes amused even as the crowds pant at his feet, screams all around from both terror and ecstasy.

(Shang Huan can’t help but sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he is once more offered someone’s entire being; if he’s said it once, he’s said it again, betting is at the tables, not at his feet.

Just another day it seems; hopefully there will be no explosions in the kitchen again.)  

-----------------------=-----------------------

0.0 huh, I did not expect this when I started writing; I just wanted to have Airplane have some fun in the world he created, maybe opening up a few businesses to make money on the side. I did not mean to make him into an oblivious Hua Cheng of the PIDW verse (Yes, in this verse, he will be as terrifying and pretty, I will not take criticism for it.)

Also, I was greatly inspired by Nighthaunting, though instead of ballet I have SQH as a theatre kid whose dreams got cut short due to bad luck and assholes. I love how they have built their world, and how they say that writing was probably a side thing for Airplane, which just makes so much sense. Also, I am all for Airplane being scary and fully taking advantage of his author knowledge, so haha! Hope you all enjoyed this story~

[trilliastra]

the adventures of detective wei wuxian and his husband

[Established relationship. POV outsider for the most part.]

-

1.

Jiang Cheng will never get used to seeing Lan Wangji in distress. Instead of his usual stoic expression, the man looks almost in pain himself, holding Wei Wuxian's hand tightly.

“He's an idiot.” Jiang Cheng comments, trying to hide his own worry. “He ran into the building like he's the fucking Superman.” And he saved a kid, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Lan Wangji barely looks up, already used to Jiang Cheng's own way of coping with Wei Wuxian's dangerous lifestyle. They've had many fights before as Lan Wangji often misunderstood brotherly banter with insulting.

Jiang Cheng doesn't know exactly what happened, but one day they met for dinner and Lan Wangji stopped glaring at him every time he nagged at Wei Wuxian, so he guesses they are fine now. Well, as fine as they can ever be.

“Hmn.” The other man assents, he brushes a hand over Wei Wuxian's cheek softly. “I'll lock him in the basement.” He says.

Jiang Cheng lets out a snort, surprised at Lan Wangji's attempt at a joke. “He'd find a way out.”

“Hmn.” They share a look of understanding. This is who Wei Wuxian is: impulsive, selfless, good.

“He's gonna be fine.” Jiang Cheng whispers, reaching out to take Wei Wuxian's other hand.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji takes a deep breath, rests his head against Wei Wuxian's chest. Jiang Cheng pretends not to see the tears. “He will.”

–

2.

Yang Hao rolls his eyes as Wei Wuxian laughs loudly. It should take more than just a quick brain and guts to become a detective.

It's ten past two, he hasn't slept in two days and his stomach is starting to hurt. Things would move much faster if only Wei Wuxian could get to the fucking point.

“And that's how we found they run an underground casino.” He keeps rambling, all exaggerated gestures and a lot of confidence. Yang Hao sighs – some people are so damn lucky to just stumble upon the right person at the right time.

To his left Li Qin is sighing dreamily, as Wei Wuxian keeps talking about how he is this close to solving the case if only he could have another day or two. He will get those days, Yang Hao is sure, because their boss loves him.

Thirty minutes later – or maybe two hours, he lost track of time by the time Wei Wuxian started on his brilliant plan to catch their guy – they are finally free to eat their lunch and Yang Hao all but runs away from the conference room before Wei Wuxian can catch up with him. The guy is adamant they must become friends, Yang Hao has no idea how Wei Wuxian hasn't noticed that he'd rather strangle himself before that happens.

He almost made it to his desk before his name is being called by that annoyingly happy voice. “Yang Hao!” He tries not to groan. “I forgot my lunch, do you want to go to granny’s restaurant at the corner together?” Wei Wuxian smiles, placing his hand on Yang Hao's shoulder.

“I have a date.” He lies, desperate to get the fuck away from him.

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian's smile falters for a moment, but he's soon back to his cheerful self. “That's great, man!” He pulls his hand back before shaking it in front of Yang Hao's face, the wedding ring shining in the light. “I wish I could say the same.” Wei Wuxian sighs, almost sad.

Yang Hao turns around to hide his grimace. Wei Wuxian talks, a lot, it's no secret that he's married, and happily so. It's sickening how much he talks about his partner. Yang Hao has never met her in person, but he imagines a saint of a woman to put up with all – that.

Or maybe she's just as bad as him. Yang Hao shudders.

“That's too bad.” He answers when he realizes Wei Wuxian is waiting for him to say something. “Next time, then?” He asks, just to be polite.

Wei Wuxian's smile grows and he is about to reply when Li Qin call his name. “Senior Wei! There's someone here to see you.” She gestures at a man dressed in a suit, long hair tied up. He's vaguely familiar and Yang Hao frowns, hoping this isn't related to their case. He can't put up with Wei Wuxian for another hour, especially without food.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls, surprised. He all but runs towards the man and when they are close enough he leans in and – kisses him. What.

“You forgot your lunch.” He can hear the other man say, holding Wei Wuxian's waist. “We are going out.” He states and Wei Wuxian all but melts against him.

Yang Hao blinks, trying to process all the information. So Wei Wuxian's partner isn't a woman. And he is a Lan. As in the Lan Clan. As in Lan Wangji, the cold, intimidating, lawyer.

“Oh, Lan Zhan.” He looks up, still confused, as Wei Wuxian praises his husband. “You're too good to me.” His voice is so saccharine, Yang Hao wants to jump off the window, but Lan Wangji only smiles, albeit shyly, and takes Wei Wuxian's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Aren't they the cutest?” Li Qin asks, happily.

Yang Hao groans and vows to apply for a transfer as soon as he can.

–

3.

“I'll call you later, mom.” Mei Xiang stops just outside the building, puts her phone back in her purse and reaches out for the compact mirror. She checks her lipstick again and takes a deep, nervous breath. I can do it, she tells herself.

She's been preparing for this since before she got into university. She is smart, qualified, and bold, just the perfect combination for a great lawyer. She can do it.

The Lan Clan is a legend and being employed at Cloud Recesses is a dream come true. She doesn't have an office and for now she's just another assistant, but Mei Xiang knows it's just a matter of time. She's ready to work her way up. Sleepless nights? She got that covered in university. Food? Cereal bars and dried fruits are her best friends.

Mei Xiang introduces herself to her colleagues with a smile and proceeds to get acquainted with her small desk in the corner of the large room. They are all working on some big case already and her direct supervisor says they will assign her a task as soon as Lan Xichen arrives.

Her desk is close to Lan Wangji's office, she notices. The open door allows her to watch him working, scribbling furiously as he checks one book or the other, occasionally he looks up to discuss something with Luo Qingyang, one of the senior lawyers. Mei Xiang sighs, that is one handsome man.

She can see the shining ring on his left hand and shakes her head. She participated in many lectures given by either Lan Wangji or his brother, and she's always admired the way he carried himself, his unwavering belief on doing what's right.

Mei Xiang smiles sweetly when he looks up and notices her watching him. She isn't one to defend adultery, but she knows how these things work for the traditional families – marriage of convenience is still common and she doubts Lan Wangji would ever go against his family on this matter.

Mei Xiang runs a hand through her hair, watching Lan Wangji look through his books. Her parents met through work, love can happen anytime, anywhere. If it happens it happens, she thinks, delighted, when he looks up again.

“Hello, Senior Wei.” Mei Xiang hears Luo Qingyang say as she leaves Lan Wangji's office. A man dressed in casual jeans and combat boots reaches out for her hand with a smile.

“Mianmian, you look absolutely dashing. How is your baby?” He asks, enthusiastic.

Mei Xiang frowns. She doesn't recognize him, and she thought she knew everyone who worked at Cloud Recesses – she made a very thorough research.

She watches as Luo Qingyang shows him something on her phone, probably a picture of her baby, and the man coos, always smiling, as he grabs his own phone and hands it to her.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji calls, coming out of his office.

“Lan Zhan!” The man practically yells, which makes Mei Xiang startle, no one in the room looks up and she wonders if this is such an usual occurrence that they just don’t care anymore. “I was showing her that video of Sizhui playing with the rabbits!” He turns to Luo Qingyang. “Isn't he the cutest?”

“Yes,” she laughs, “after my little Mianmian.” She adds, making the other man laugh.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji stresses, holding out his hand.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” The man laughs, waving goodbye at Luo Qingyang and taking Lan Wangji's hand as they walk together into the office. “I missed you, too.” She hears him say, leaning in to kiss Lan Wangji passionately before the doors are even fully closed.

“Damn,” she whispers, impressed.

Half an hour later, Lan Wangji's husband comes out of his office looking properly debauched, with the biggest smile she's ever seen. That doesn't look like a marriage out of convenience, so definitely, nothing is going to happen. Oh well, she thinks before straightening up her back and getting ready to conquer the world, his loss.

–

4.

After thirty years, she still loves the Monday morning rush. Since her daughter took over the kitchen, she started to love it even more.

Mei Hui loves talking to them and listening to their stories, serving good food that makes them forget about their problems for a few minutes. Over the years, she's had many regular customers, and one of her favorites is Wei Wuxian.

He's a whirlwind, loud and dangerous, but smart and genuinely kind. She's granny to him and her heart fills with joy every time he walks through the door.

He loves her lotus root soup – she long stopped taking offense when he says his sister's is better, she understands the power of love that makes any food taste like heaven – especially when a case has gone wrong. Mei Hui has spent many nights by his side as he eats the soup and cries.

Pork ribs are reserved for the amazing days – his words, not hers. Almost eight years ago, he ordered it for the first time, his grin so wide it took her breath away. It was also the first time she heard Lan Wangji's name.

Oh, those boys. She likes to think her late husband used to look at her like Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

She was invited to their wedding but couldn't make it due to an appendicitis – her health isn't what it used to be fifteen years ago – but Wei Wuxian showed her the pictures the next week, patting her back gently as she sniffed, deeply touched by his consideration.

But her favorite customer of all has to be the little boy. Lan Sizhui, Lan Yuan, oh, how she adores him. Mei Hui looks at the flowers and smiles as she reads the card again. It’s impossible not to love him.

Happy birthday, granny, it says, and she has to sit down to try and contain her glee. “Dad helped me write it.” Lan Sizhui had explained, earlier this morning, as he hugged her leg. Wei Wuxian was laughing, holding Lan Wangji's hand as they waited for their son. She asked if the boy wasn't going to be late for school and Wei Wuxian laughed, amused, as Lan Wangji frowned for a moment, but answered that it was fine, it was for a good cause. Oh, those boys.

Mei Hui loves Monday mornings, even more when she gets to see her favorite boys smiling, and so – so happy. As they should be.

–

5.

He is bleeding. Fuck, Lan Wangji is bleeding.

Su She watches Lan Xichen hold his suit jacket over his brother's wound and tries not to panic. This wasn't part of the plan, that – Xue Yang wasn't even supposed to have a gun! And that good-for-nothing just left in the middle of the chaos without looking back.

Xue Yang was supposed to take the papers while Su She distracted Lan Wangji, no one would get hurt, much less shot. Not that Lan Wangji didn't deserve it, the arrogant bastard, but Su She doesn't want to go to jail when he's this close to getting rich. Lan Wangji better live to watch Su She ruin everything that he owns.

“Wangji.” He hears Lan Xichen yell, shaking his brother to keep him awake. He hears someone saying help is coming and someone else says they called Lan Wangji’s husband.

Su She almost rolls his eyes as the other employees start running around like headless chickens, crying and praying for Lan Wangji's recover. Half of them hate the man just as much as Su She and the other half just want him to live so they can continue to make googly eyes at him. Pathetic.

“Lan Zhan!”

Great, this time Su She does roll his eyes as Wei Wuxian yells desperately, kneeling in front of his husband and taking his hand.

“Lan Zhan, please don't leave me.” He cries.

They are so ridiculous, flaunting their superior love story in front of everyone's faces. Every time they are around each other, it's like watching a fucking drama – nothing is ever going to be more staged than this. Well, he thinks, perhaps Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's wedding, but Su She couldn't care less about them.

“Never –” Lan Wangji coughs just as the paramedics arrive. It takes Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng – and when did that other fucker get here – to separate Wei Wuxian from his husband.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian's screams get more and more desperate and Su She decides it's time to leave. Any more of this disgusting shit and he's going to throw up.

–

He should've known Xue Yang was going to open his giant mouth eventually. The guy has always been a coward.

“ – you have the right to remain silent,” Wei Wuxian recites as two police officers drag Su She towards the car.

“He should've died.” He says, looking into the other man's eyes. When Wei Wuxian attacks him Su She only laughs.

–

+ 1

“It's snowing!” They get woken up by Lan Yuan jumping on their bed, laughing and screaming in delight. Lan Wangji smiles as he hears Wei Wuxian groan and burrow himself further under the covers. “Dad! Papa!”

“Yes.” Lan Wangji answers, sitting up and pulling Lan Yuan onto his lap. “Have you brushed your teeth?”

“Yes!” He quickly answers, eyes shining with glee. “And I dressed myself, see?” He opens his arms and kicks his legs in the air. He's wearing mismatched socks, Lan Wangji notices, smiling.

“So you did.” He praises, running a hand through the boy's hair. “We can play in the snow after breakfast.”

“Noooo.” Wei Wuxian whines. He got home late last night, again. “It's Saturday, we should stay in bed all day.”

Lan Yuan ignores him, turning to Lan Wangji again. “Can we make cookies too?”

“Sure.” He answers easily, dropping Lan Yuan on Wei Wuxian's back. His husband groans and their son laughs when he gets pulled into a hug.

“And hot chocolate?” Lan Yuan asks.

“One or the other.” Lan Wangji replies, heading to the bathroom.

“Cookies!” He hears his son reply in between laughter.

“Chocolate chip!” Wei Wuxian laughs with him.

By the time he comes out of the bathroom both Wei Wuxian and Lan Yuan are asleep again, holding each other and snoring softly. Lan Wangji shakes his head, amused, and walks back to the bed. He throws an arm over them and smiles, they can stay in bed longer, it's Saturday after all.

[katehuntington]

Title: Black Dog - part eight Word count: 1900± words Episode summary: When Sam gets an anonymous phone call with information about his father, Dean receives a text message with coordinates to different location. The brothers clash and split up, one following orders, the other trusting his instincts. Meanwhile, in the wilderness of Cascade Range,  Washington State, Zoë loses grip on a personal case and is forced to confront her  demons. Without back up, this might very well turn out to  be her final hunt. Part eight summary: Sam finally arrives in Nashville and is about to begin the search for his father, when an unexpected call comes in. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Swearing, smoking, weaponry. Descriptions of  torture and murder. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and   flashbacks. Descriptions of suicidal thoughts and tendencies, depression, panic attacks, hallucinations. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​​​​​​ & @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​. Thanks, girls!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E03 “Black Dog” Masterlist

     Nashville, Tennessee      December 3rd, 2005 - Present Day

     With a sigh, Sam gets off the bus. The rain beats down on him straight away, but instead of being annoyed by it, he finds it refreshing. Finally, he’s in Nashville. It’s  taken him three days to get here. Three days of torture - which included waiting for his damn transport to arrive in the first place, being forced in a seat made for someone who is 4’8, and having to change twice to get to his final destination - but he’s in Nashville. 

     Of course, he could have hopped on a plane for a journey of only several hours, but he had a hunch he would have a bit of trouble getting through customs, carrying a duffel loaded with blades, guns, and ammunition. He might always be complaining about his brother’s driving skills or his collection of Metallica, Motorhead, and Black Sabbath tapes which he plays over and over again while he sings along, but seventy-six hours of traveling to get from Texas to Tennessee wasn’t a joy either. 

     He watches the touring car take off into the night, continuing its trip, the droplets that run down the side catching the light of the overhanging streetlights. The sound of the engine fades as the carrier merges into traffic again. Suddenly, he feels alone, left behind, and not just by the bus. It’s not the first time he experiences this uneasiness, because Sam has pondered about the fight he had with his older sibling more than once. Truth be told; he never expected Dean to leave him on the side of the road. He called his bluff, and when his brother didn’t give him an inch, he himself refused to surrender as well. If he’s completely honest with himself, he started regretting this impulsive act the minute he saw the Impala drive away, but he couldn’t let it show, he couldn’t let Dean win. He is so tired of being bossed around and being treated like a little kid. Stubborn? Maybe. Guess it runs in the family.

     Sam can take care of himself, but tracking his father will not be an easy task without Dean. When it comes to Dad, the oldest son knows him best and Sam realizes he’s going to be missing him on this search. He hopes the woman who set him on this path will call him again, because he could use a lead.

     So, what now? He decides it will probably be best to settle down in a motel and get online, see if he can find some information, then he will start asking questions. There’s not much he can do right at this moment, considering it’s 2.30 AM. It’s going to be quite a task, finding a man in a city covering 550 square miles with over 600.000 citizens. And all he has is the word of a girl he has never met, of which he didn’t even catch her name.      “This is insane,” he mutters, looking around.

     A voice of reason whispers in his ear again: go back. Dean’s words had some truth to them. What if this is a trap? What if he’s walking straight into it? Sam’s doubts will not make him turn around, though. He is here and he is not going to stop searching until he finds Dad. 

     Sam keeps his head low and buries his hand in his pockets, protecting himself from the rain as he shivers. It’s not particularly cold for this time of the year, but 39 °F isn’t anything near Texas. Raindrops bring down the temperature as well and continue to fall down on the hunter as clouds block out the moon.

     He starts to walk in the direction of what seems to be a hotel. The interstate, which lays directly next to the parking lot, crosses Highway 70. Lines of cars travel by, their white headlights and red tail lights lighting the road like it’s Christmas already. 

     Through the curtains of water, the young Winchester spots a neon sign at the entrance of the building he’s approaching. He was right; it is a hotel, funnily enough one from the same chain where Zoë spent the night in Paragould. The Hampton Inn Bellevue looks like a fancy place from the outside, and remembering the luxurious room of the huntress, he reckons this hotel will not be any different. Sam doesn’t like to waste money, but he will do anything for a decent bed after being crammed into that touring car like a canned sardine. Not that he’s planning to sleep much; he has better things to do. He has to find Dad, it’s all he can think of. 

     Right when he’s about to enter the establishment, he hears his cell phone ringing. Hastily, he takes his Blackberry from his pocket, hoping it to be the anonymous caller who tipped him off three days ago. The display announces the caller as ‘unidentified’, it might not be so far fetched. Sam picks up immediately.      “Hello?”      A relieved sigh sounds from the other side. “Hey, Sam.”

     It’s a feminine voice alright, but it’s not the ‘mysterious lady’, as Dean called the woman who passed him the information about their Dad. He does recognize the person on the other end, though. She is the last human being on earth he expected a call from.      “Zoë,” he concludes, stunned.      “Yeah… hey, listen,” she cuts to the chase. “I’m in deep shit.”

     Sam stops dead in his tracks. He thought she might be after she left so abruptly back in Arkansas, but the fact that she’s admitting that she’s in trouble means that this is serious.

     “Where the hell are you?” he asks.      “I’m just outside Darrington, Washington State.”      “Are you hurt?” Sam asks worriedly.      “Yeah, but that’s not the point.” She pauses for a moment, knowing what she is about to say might come as an unpleasant surprise. “Your brother’s here.”

     Completely staggered, Sam stares ahead with his phone still close to his ear. What did she just say? Dean is there? With her?! A million questions pop up in his head, but he finds it difficult to choose the first one to ask. 

     “What?!” is the only thing he can cry out.      “Yeah, I thought you might say that.”      “But, how the…? He went out to do Dad’s dirty laundry!” he recalls, stunned.      “Are you calling me dirty laundry?”      Sam’s eyebrows reach his hairline, remembering the coordinates John sent his brother. “You are Dad’s dirty laundry?”      “Apparently, but it doesn’t matter.” She interferes before the receiver of the call has the chance to ramble on. “Listen, Dean’s life is in danger. If he stays here with me, he’ll die. You have to get him out bef--”

     Now, it’s Zo who gets interrupted. Puzzled, Sam stares at his phone for a moment, assuming the connection might be bad. When the display shows three bars in the right upper corner, he presses the Blackberry against his ear again and listens carefully, trying to identify the sounds he hears. It seems like Zoë is fighting someone over the phone, then he hears Dean in the background.      “Give me the damn phone! Give it!”      “No! Let go!”      “Zoë!”      “Don’t Zoë me, you son of a--”      “Hand me the fucking phone!”

     The line cracks, but then the noise of static stabilizes. Dean has apparently won the fight over the device, because he can hear his voice loud and clear.      “Sam?”      “What?” he replies coldly.      “Whatever you do, don’t hang up,” Dean pleads before Sam does something he will regret later.      “I thought you were on Dad’s job?” the younger brother confronts, still angry with his brother.      “I am, this is the job. The coordinates led me to Zo,” he explains. “This is not some ghost hunt, Sam. This is unlike anything I’ve ever faced before.”

     The hunter hears the concern in his sibling’s voice and he immediately swallows back the smart response he had waiting for him.      “I need you to get over here, and while you’re at it look up everything you can find about hellhounds,” Dean demands, calm but stern.      “Hellhounds?” Sam repeats, perplexed. “As in the actual soul claimers of the crossroad demons?”      “Yep, and we’re on the menu.”      “How did that happen? You have to make a deal before they claim your soul at the arranged time,” Sam remembers from one of the lore he studied.      “They were let off the hook,” Dean claims. “Sam, you have to find out a way to kill them.”      “You can’t kill hellhounds, Dean,” Sam replies.      “No, you don’t understand. You have to find a way to kill them,” Dean repeats slowly, making sure the words sink in.

     The youngest gulps, realizing how much trouble Zoë and his brother are in. He has read some books that mentioned these creatures, but he never found anything about killing them. He turns around and stares up, letting the rain fall down on him, the water clumping his brown hair together in strands. The hunter scoffs; and he thought he made it to his final destination. He just traveled half the country to get east, now he has to travel all the way up north?

     “This better not be some excuse to get me away from Dad, Dean,” he warns.      “I wish it was, Sam,” Dean says, concerned. “Hurry it up, will ya?”      “Will do.”      “And - uh, about what happened down in Texas…”      “That’s not important now. We’ll talk about it later,” Sam replies to Dean’s unspoken words.

     Knowing they both can bury their pride and work this out, the younger brother closes his eyes as a burden falls off his shoulders. It must, for him to be able to carry a much heavier weight on them. Zoë’s and Dean’s life will depend on him.

     ��One more thing,” Sam states, before hanging up. “You do know what happens when these things catch you. You don’t just die…”      “I know. You go to hell,” Dean finishes.      The young Winchester nods his head, although his sibling can’t see that. A short silence follows, after which Dean ends their conversation.      “See you soon, Sammy.”

     The line disconnects and a tone beeps in his ear, but it takes a few seconds before the young hunter actually lowers the phone and puts it away. Well, that changes things. There is no time to lose; he needs to get to Washington State and fast. 

     Determined, he stalks back onto the parking lot, observing his surroundings. No bus ride this time, he needs faster transportation. His gaze glides over the parking lot. Then he spots a silver 2005 Chrysler Crossfire Roadster amongst them. He nods, approving, knowing that the vehicle would make good time, but his conscience kicks in soon enough. He can not just connect some wires and steal a car like that! Or any car! But the thought of his brother and Zoë ending up dog food because he was too civilized to go grand theft auto isn’t something he could live with either. He’s left with no other option. 

     Reluctantly, Sam groans and eyes the vehicle, but then steps towards it while shaking his head and mumbling to himself, “I am so gonna regret this.”

Thank  you so much for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee. Link in bio at the  top of the page.

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   25

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Papyrus yells at Sans to get his shit together, but he's a mess... AKA Sans gets drunk... and remembers some things from the past... that he'd really rather not..

A/N: There is some... possibly triggering events... experiments and tiny skele abuse... little Papyrus is too cute and sweet... Also mentioned possible death. It, as usual, is separated with the ~~~ and should be (at least mostly) safe again at the next set, safe summary in the end..

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Blackout.

Sans rolled over in his bed, feeling like the scars on his chest were going to break through and destroy his soul. 

The sun blared outside, shining into his sockets. 

"fuck off," he growled, rolling back over. 

Papyrus pounded on the door, making the sounds reverberate through his skull. He couldn't tell if it was louder than normal, or it just sounded like it to his throbbing skull. 

"GET YOUR STUPID, LAZY ASS UP, SANS!! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!! I KNOW YOU WENT OUT DRINKING AGAIN LAST NIGHT, LIKE THE FUCKING MORON THAT YOU ARE!! YOU'D BETTER BE DOWNSTAIRS IN FIVE MINUTES, OR I'M COMING BACK UP HERE FOR YOU!! YOUR STUPIDITY IS NO EXCUSE TO BE A LAZY DRUNK MORON!!"

 . 

The day was hell- actually, life was hell at the moment… 

His brother yelled at him about how stupid he'd been every chance he got- like he didn't already know that he'd royally fucked up. 

Every place he went reminded him of something he'd shown, or wanted to show (Y/n), her excitement at all the different things she'd never seen before had warmed his soul every time. 

Each time someone asked where his pet was made his soul thrum and ache to be close to her. ...and punch the person in the face… She was so much more than the pet they'd had to pretend she was. 

Every time he got Grillby's, he remembered her face of delight as she ate it for the first time. 

Every bite of his brother's food reminded him that she'd been there and helped him get better at cooking. 

Every time he rolled over in bed and smelled her scent caught on the pillow, or the sheets… 

And then there was the time he'd gotten back from drinking, and had been stumbling around drunk in his room, kicking random stuff on the floor, only to discover a pair of her underwear that he'd probably tossed in the corner in his haste to get to her. 

That had made him collapse in a heap of self hatred and regret. 

.

Sans sat at the table, stabbing his fork at his dinner aimlessly. 

“I MADE YOU A WONDERFUL, DELICIOUS, HOME COOKED MEAL! DON’T FIDGET WITH IT AND ACT LIKE IT’S THE TRASH YOU FILL YOURSELF WITH AT THAT GREASE TRAP,” Papyrus snapped at him. 

“sorry, boss…” 

Papyrus clenched his jaw, staring at his own fork pushing around a bite longer than necessary. 

“I WARNED YOU. I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCK IT UP. BUT YOU HAD TO GO AND DO THE STUPIDEST THING POSSIBLE TO FUCK IT UP.” 

Sans didn’t say anything. 

“YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF.” 

“i fuckin’ know, boss!” Sans yelled, scooting his chair back from the table. “i know i’m a fuck up! it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that i always manage ta fuck everythin’ up!” 

Papyrus sniffed haughtily. “I’M GLAD THAT YOU KNOW. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?” 

“i can’t do anythin’ about it! i fucked up, an’ she hates me! i took ‘er back ta th' edge a th' boundary, an’ there’s no way i can ever find ‘er, now!” Sans glared at his plate of food. 'sides, she wouldn't care- not that i'm sorry for being an asshole, not that i've been tryin' ta be a better monster, an' made great progress, too! maybe only a lil before i met 'er, but her bein' here made it so much easier to be better… 

Papyrus scowled at his brother. “THERE’S ALWAYS A WAY-” 

Sans cut him off by standing up, his chair making a loud noise as it almost fell over, and started towards the door as he muttered, “i’m goin’ ta grillby’s…” 

After grabbing his coat and slamming the door after him, Sans shortcutted to the bar, intent on getting wasted. 

.

A few drinks in with a good buzz, Sans started looking around. 

He wasn’t quite drunk enough to not remember, but it was at least a bit hazy. 

“Heya, Sansy!” 

He looked over to the bar stool next to him, seeing the cream colored bunny next to him, ordering a drink. He followed her to her regular booth, and they began matching shots, seeing who could get the drunkest first. 

. 

Sans opened his eye sockets, his fuzzy eyelights looking around the bar, seeing some drunk monsters starting to be a bit more friendly with each other. 

His skull fell to the side as he shifted, realizing that he’d missed a bit of what had happened. He straightened up in the booth seat and looked down at his drink again. 

Maybe he should try to find someone… 

Even if it was a one night stand, it would be someone to try to get rid of his memory of- no… thinking her name would only start the hurt again… make his soul burn with the knowledge that he was to blame for fucking his life up beyond repair. 

But, finding someone might be a good idea; he needed to at least stop jerking off excessively to her panties, or reading those stupid, mushy, trash books he hid on his shelf while imagining that she was the leading lady- and he was lucky enough to be the bastard who’d seen the error in his ways and was given a second chance… 

… 

Sans tossed back his drink and took the half empty glass from the passed out bunny across from him, downing it as well. 

He was finally kicked out of the bar, Grillby chasing everyone out as he closed. 

Sans took a shortcut home, but ended up in the field near the echo flowers he had planted to remind him of Waterfall, where he used to look at the Underground “skys” and pretend the crystals were stars. 

He yelled loudly for a minute, then tried again, this time making it within a short distance of the house. 

He swayed dangerously, but he made it in through the door, getting to the foot of the stairs and seeing the door to the hidden room open. He went to it, hand stopping short only due to him passing out across the floor with a thud. 

His vision had gone dark. 

Darker... 

…yet darker… 

…and darker, still… 

… 

… 

… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sans felt his soul floating above his body, unable to move as Gaster held him there with his weird powers. 

“Just hold still, you little shit…” 

Sans could handle it… as long as he left Papyrus alone, he could handle it… 

“P-PAPA…” 

“What is it? What are you doing in my lab? Why are you here?” Gaster demanded roughly in irritation. 

Sans fought as hard as he could to shift his eyelights to see his little brother. He needed to stay away! Sans wished that he could talk, yell at Paps to run, to go hide, to never come there, ever again- but he could hardly shift his eyelights. 

“WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO SANS?” 

run, bro, run! Sans begged mentally. 

“Well, you see, you weak little fool, monsters are stuck underground. We’re not here because we want to be. Your useless brother here, is going to help us escape,” Gaster told him. 

“THAT’S AMAZING, SANS!” Papyrus shouted in proud joy. 

Sans tried to will his brother to leave, to save himself from the sadistic monster towering over him. 

Papyrus’s jaw hit the hard floor as Gaster smacked the back of his skull so hard he fell forward. 

“Don’t be stupid, you worthless little runt,” Gaster snapped as he tore the ragged stuffed animal from his grasp. “He’s only a part of the experiment, he’s not doing anything worthwhile.” He held up the prized toy and ripped it’s limb off. “Just like this garbage is only making you weaker.” 

“NOOO!” Papyrus cried, a heart wrenching sob that made Sans’ soul hurt. 

Gaster glared at the small skeleton on the floor. “You have no need for this trash,” he sneered. “It’s as useless as you are.” He tore at the thing until it was completely in pieces and destroyed. 

Sans wanted to punch Gaster in his stupid cracked face. 

Gaster plucked Papyrus from the floor and turned to hold him where Sans could see. “Look at how weak you’ve made him,” he gloated. “If you didn’t coddle him and try to protect him from the real world, he’d be stronger.” 

Sans could feel his magic gathering in his bones, pushing and fighting against Gaster’s hold on him. 

Gaster looked Papyrus in the socket. “You should thank your brother for this- for making you as weak as you are.” 

A shot of fear showed on Papyrus’ face before the first hit came. 

Red, hot, magical tears built in Sans’ sockets as he fought to get free, to help his brother, but he was only able to sort of flop around on the table. 

Papyrus’ cries and tears were background noise for Gaster’s cries and accusations, telling Sans that he could thank himself for his brother not being able to defend himself, telling Papyrus to thank Sans for making him so weak. His gleeful cackling mixed with the noise of the attack. 

One of the machines in the room kicked into another level, sounding like it was reversing the flow it had been using. 

“sssstttppppp…” 

“Haven’t I taught you boys anything? Emotions are weakness.” 

“sssttoppp…” 

“Weakness is unacceptable- weakness will get you dusted.” 

“sstoopp…” 

“I thought I had taught you both better- but maybe you’re just slow learners!” The thought was accompanied with a manic and near demonic grin. “Maybe you just don’t learn- maybe you need to be taught over and over and over-” 

“stop,” Sans choked out. 

Gaster was too focused on what he was doing to notice at first, but when it seemed like a circuit or fuse had blown, he paused his movements. 

Sans started shaking, his body twitching every which way as he fought, fought to be able to save Papyrus. 

He felt a power just beyond his phalanges, he could almost reach it- 

The tears in his sockets grew, starting to stream down his skull, as he stretched himself to touch it- 

The power in the lab started to flicker, and Sans felt like his soul was being ripped into tiny pieces with a cheese grater, digging into it and shredding the super sensitive entirety of his being. 

“What are you doing, you stupid fucking brat,” Gaster demanded, glaring watchfully at him, ignoring his screams of pain.

Sans couldn’t hear him, though- he couldn’t even hear the screams leaving his own mouth, he was only consumed with protecting his brother, stopping Gaster from hurting him. 

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by the power cutting off and slowly starting back up. 

Sans felt weightless, like he had no restraints. 

He threw himself from the bed, but felt that he didn’t even touch the floor. He was held by a gathering of power- the same power that he’d tapped into. 

The power that was… 

Gaster sneered as Sans stood before him, attempting to adjust his magical hold, but it didn’t affect him. 

Sans clenched his fists and gathered the power there, ready to stop the attack on his brother, a shimmer moving around his fists. 

Gaster cackled at him and tossed Papyrus to the floor. “So, you’ve finally done what you were meant to do this whole time.” The tall monster reached for Sans, but his magic didn’t affect him. He made a displeased face at Sans before flourishing his hands, the gems in the centers of his cutout palms gleaming as he grabbed something in the air and pulled, lines attaching the two shimmering to visible for a moment. 

Gaster grinned dangerously in accomplishment and jerked the lines, making Sans stumble forward. 

“And to think; all it took to motivate you was a little smacking around of your brother… Maybe I’ll make you…” Gaster manipulated his hands in strange ways, and Sans could feel himself being tugged around by his own magic. “Yes, I could make you the one that hurt him instead… but, I think that I’ve taught him enough about the dangers of being weak… now I think I’ll teach you the dangers of caring for others-” Gaster twisted his hand and made Sans pick Papyrus up, holding him even with his eyelights. “How it can only hurt both parties in the end.” 

“i don’t wanna, pap, i swear,” Sans begged him to understand as he felt his hand being drawn back. “i swear it’s not me, paps- ya know i’d never do anythin’ like this ta ya…” 

“But it is you, Sans, look at your hand, it’s the one that’s about to hurt the one you love,” Gaster sneered from behind them. 

“‘s not- ‘s not, paps- y’re my lil bro, i love ya-” 

He was going to kill him- 

Sans was going to kill Gaster for making him do this. 

“The best part, is that the more monsters I link together, the more power I’ll have… I’ll be able to break down the barrier all on my own- as soon as I link enough souls together,” Gaster crowed in victory. 

Sans looked down to his ribcage where his soul sat, seeing a string connecting it to Gaster’s soul, a strange bond forming between his soul and the holes in his palms, the gems floating in the middles, that he’d never seen before- in fact- he didn’t think he’d ever seen this glow before on Gaster. 

Sans focused hard, letting go of Papyrus and took a hold of the line and tugged, pulling Gaster instead, turning the larger monster to him and making him stumble to be the right height, even for him to pull all the energy he could into his hands, summoning a large bone and swinging hard, hitting Gaster in the skull, seeing the flash of fear and realization just before it connected. 

Gaster fell to the ground, limp, and Sans dropped the bone, letting it disappear as he stared in shock. 

Did… Did he just kill Gaster? 

He knew he thought about it a lot… 

He knew that he wanted to do it to stop him from hurting his brother- wanted to punish him for hurting his brother… 

But… why wasn’t he turning to dust…? Why was there… blackness leaking from him?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sans turned to Papyrus when he felt a bit more certain that Gaster wasn't going to get up and attack again. 

He felt his soul twist in knots at the expression of pain and fear on his small brother's face, sure that it was partially due to the crack from his maxilla, between two sharp teeth, up and heading to his cheek bone. But the other part would have to come from… 

"b-bro-" Sans' voice caught, his hand freezing in mid motion, his phalanges starting to curl closed into a fist. “i… i’m sorry, bro,” he murmured. 

Papyrus threw himself into Sans’ arms, small, almost silent sobs leaving his small frame. 

Sans felt his soul twist again. 

“i- it’s a’right, paps- i- h-he… he’ll never hurt ya again. never…” He murmured against his brother’s skull. “i promise…”

Papyrus held tighter to him, trying to hide his silent sobs better. 

“i- imma help ya become th’ toughest monster out there. ain’t nobody gonna mess wit ya…” Sans stroked over his brother’s skull, not quite sure what else to do to comfort him. “ya- ya are th’ great an’ terrible papyrus, after all…”

Papyrus mustered up the strength to give a soft, “Nyeh Heh Heh…” 

Sans held his small form closer to his chest, curling around him. "it's ok, paps… everythin' is gonna be ok…" 

He just had to get rid of Gaster's body… 

After a moment, an idea came to him, and, thinking it through while he held and comforted Papyrus, it seemed to hold up… 

He'd hated all these years of going to the lab with Gaster, but… looks like they were finally going to be good for something. 

He didn't think anyone else knew about the void between realms that Gaster had accidentally tapped into while trying to find a way out of the Underground. 

"S-Sans…" For once, the small skeleton's voice matched his size. 

"yeah, paps?" Sans asked quietly. 

"Are… Are You Going To Be My Dad, Now…?" 

Sans felt like he was the one who'd been smacked in the back of the skull with a bone attack. 

"i- n-no, paps- i'm still yer brother, i- i ain't fit ta- i ain't old 'nough ta be a dad-” he corrected, trying to put it in a way that Papyrus would understand, “but… imma take care a ya like one, 'k? ya don't have ta be scared, imma take care a ya… i'll keep ya safe…" 

Papyrus tightened his hold on Sans. "I'm- I'm Going To Keep You Safe, Too," he murmured. 

"that's 'cause y're gonna be th' biggest, strongest monster out there. no one'll be able ta beat ya, 'cause y're th' best…" 

Sans held his brother tight, feeling the newly awakened power burning through his bones as the two held each other, swearing that they'd keep each other safe and alive, no matter what it took. 

A/N: Safe summary: Gaster is experimenting in connecting souls together, using his powers to hold Sans down, when little Papyrus comes down with his precious stuffed animal to see what they're doing. Gaster hits Papyrus as punishment for being "weak". Sans completes the connection of his soul to Gaster's to break his paralyzing hold on him and protect Papyrus. At first it works, but then Gaster uses two crystals type things (that Sans has never ben able to see before and isn't sure what they are) in the holes of his hands to focus his power and control Sans, making him hit Papyrus, as punishment for caring for and loving him. Sans tells him the whole time that it's not him. Sans regains control and stops himself, using gravity magic to bring him down to level, and then manifests a bone attack and hits him, very hard, in the head. Sans wonders if he's killed Gaster, and holds Papyrus close while trying o figure out how to hide Gaster's body. Sweet moments ensue in the mostly safe part.

[toku-explained]

The Swordswoman of Darkness

Trigger: Deban discusses Trigger and GUTS-Select, Ginga, Victory and UPG, X and Xio, Taiga and EGIS and Z and STORAGE.

Galaxy Rescue Force: Ribut has been using the combat trainer, fighting simulations of numerous kaiju. Queen Izana explains that they have data on kaiju from other universes, but at this point for both the Galaxy Rescue Force and the Land of Light dimensional travel is very energy intensive. The possibility of encountering yourself, like in the Darklops Zero special, is mentioned, but that most universes diverge much longer ago. Queen Izana tells Ribut to train more.

Saber: Sophia, wielding Kurayami, joins the Swordsmen, becoming Caliber to help cut a path through Storious' army. Storious is watching this via Grimoire, which then makes Legeiel and Zooous appear to him. With Caliber and Saikou holding the army, the Swordsmen encounter the first Lord of Wise, which Kenzan and Slash battle. Zooous and Legeiel beg Storious to explain how they all became monsters, Storious explains that they lost themselves to power, while he is how he always was, he closes the vision and tells Luna, appearing there, that he knows how the world will end just as she does. Sophia, struggling, is supported by Hayato and Kamijo's spirits. Mei is at Fantastic Bookstore Kamiyama, apprehensive, when she finds the manuscript for Eternal Story. Blades and Buster challenge the next Lord of Wise. Storious claims that everything in the world comes from the book, nothing was truly born of human ingenuity, so he wants the end at least to be of his devising. Durandal and Sabela challenge the next Lord of Wise as Storious explains he intends the final chapter to be 'A Saviour's End', as each Lordcp of Wise overpowers their opponent, the final one battles Espada and Saber. Luna claims Touma can create stories outside of her power, but Storious forces her away. Saikou and Caliber destroy the army, but Sophia is fading fast and sends Yuri ahead. Kenzan and Slash throw everything at their foe, Kenzan using Desast's book on Kyomu to deliver a bridal finisher, burning out the last of the book, Daishinji sends Ren ahead, not revealing how injured he really is. Saber and Espada are overpowered by their opponent, Luna is in pain, and Mei reads the manuscript. Blades Tategami Hyoujuu Senki and Buster attack, as Ren runs by Ogami sends Rintaro after, swearing not to die before Sora graduates. The Shindais swear to protect eachother. Mei is brought to tears by the realisation of how the world will be saved. Ren reaches Touma and Kento, telling Touma to go ahead as Kenzan and Espada fight together. Mei suddenly has Wonder Story glow again and finds the passed out Luna, as those still fighting struggle, Blades rushes, Yuri stumbles towards the injured Daishinji, as Touma rushes toward his opponent.

Zenkaiger: Tougyuu World turns people into fighting bulls, which target colours of his choosing. Stacey is watching the battle, and reflecting on agreeing with Ijirude he needs to beat Barashitara, but he seems conflicted. Kaito tries to call Zenkaiju Gear but it doesn't show, Gaon fears he scared it away from home. Zyuran accuses Gaon of mistreating Zenkaiju Gear because it's a machine, and the team splits up. Kaito returns to Colourful to find Stacey, while Zyuran runs into the Goldtsuikars, the boys go looking for Tougyuu World while Flint tells Zyuran that Zenkaiju Fear doesn't have a sophisticated enough AI to be upset by Gaon, leading Zyuran to wonder if he went too far. Meanwhile, Gaon sees some kids play and when a Kikainoid trips and he doesn't immediately run over to check on him, realises that Zyuran is right. Secchan is staring Stacey down when Yatsude appears, he asks about Secchan and she tells him about Isao and Mitsuko, Kaito sits outside. When Tougyuu World appears, Vroon and Magine are first on the scene, Kaito rushes off, Stacey tells Yatsude it might be his last time there, she gives him a voucher and tells him to come anytime. Zyuran and Zox arrive at the battle, Tougyuu World turns the Kikainoids there into his bulls to target Zox. Twokaiser uses Gingaman, channeling Kuro Kishi's skill with bovine, but then is overpowered as is Zenkaiser trying to battle Tougyuu World. Determined not to let anyone get hurt, Gaon goads Tougyuu World, drawing the bull's attentions, allowing Zenkaiju Gear to be summoned this time, escaping the net it was caught in, and Zox and Kaito finish things. Gaon apologises for his behaviour, while pretty badly beaten, but Zyuran also apologise. Dai Tougyuu Workd waits for them to finish before arriving. Zenkaijuoh battles, but the heat makes it a struggle, and they form Zenkaiju Drill to properly stop them. Stacey arrives, declaring he will defeat Zenkaiser, becoming Stacaesar and summoning Battle Caesar Robo II, and starts overpowering Zenkaijuoh.

Yodonna: Yodonna waits in the queue to be judged by Hörn and his servant Mose on whether they will be sent to Yodon Heaven or have their soul destroyed. Datula, a scientist right before her, has developed an item to return to life by stealing it from a living person, and is destroyed. Hörn starts lecturing her on the 4 primary emotions when she gets fed up, steals the device, and uses Mose's spear to return to earth as a spirit. An illicit deal between 2 gangs goes south, the Kuchinawa Gang killing the buyers, all recorded by Rookie detective Kakihara Shousuke. At home he runs into his younger sister Mizuki, accidentally switching phones, she thinks he's a slacker, he gets briefly serious about the danger he could be in but she doesn't get it. Mizuki meets Juru and, to her annoyance, Tametomo. Yodonna approaches, aiming to steal Juru's life, but when Mizuki realises the phone switch she gets in the way. Yodonna meets Mizuki in her mental world, as the device is one use only and Mizuki dying during that time will kill her, she decides to play nice for the 6 hour process. Shousuke explains to his boss, Enoshima, the Kuchinawa organ theft operation, and discovers he switched phones. Mizuki is targeted by Kuchinawa members, in order to keep her alive for her own sake, Yodonna manipulates Mizuki's body to fight them off. Mizuki actually enjoyed the fight, but is put off by Yodonns's forced laughter. The boss of Kuchinawa has to send his top enforcer next. Mizuki finds the video of the organ operation, run out of Maid Cafe Haikyo, and decides to go in undercover to save her brother, telling Yodonna she'll count on her help, and Yodona realises she's feeling something she doesn't recognise. Mizuki recognises 2 maids and follows to the operation room, but is caught by the enforcer from earlier, the manager Zuo requesting the phone, then deciding to take her organs when she refuses. Yodonna decides to help, kissing Mizuki to take direct control. She beats the goons, then the maids surgeons and finally Zuo and his maids. Nishimura Yanako, the Kuchinawa lead bodyguard appears with her shoe blade, and is a proper match for Yodonna. Mizuki starts doing the Kiramager ED dance when Yodonna recommends exercise, forcing Yodonna to do so and be unpredictable to Yanako and defeat her. Yodonna is winded, and surprised by Mizuki being concerned for her, genuinely smiling and experiencing Joy. Enoshima turns up, but after Mizuki reveals she has the phone hidden reveals he's on the Kuchinawa payroll, telling her to bring the phone in exchange for a captive Shousuke, and leaves with Yanako, leaving Mizuki Sad, as Yodonna observes.

[gamerwoo]

[SF9 Imprinted] Zuho: Scary

Anonymous asked: Zuho, something fluff ig but i cant think of something specific 😅 

Anonymous asked: Can I request an imprinted thing for Zuho? Preferably fluffy ending but with angst at the beginning? Maybe with the mate being terrified of him when they find out he’s a werewolf, but they’re trying to be okay with if? Then something happens where the mate is in danger and he saves them and then they start to trust him more? Is that too specific? 😬

Characters: Zuho x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, angst, fluff, small mention of homophobia at the beginning, alcohol, drugs, idk just a lot of like stereotypical partying stuff and sad shit

Word count: 5,589

Summary: Juho knew that imprinting wouldn’t necessarily be easy since nobody believed in werewolves, but he didn’t expect it to be this difficult. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in them -- you very much did -- you were just terrified of getting close to him. He assumed you were afraid of him because he was a werewolf, but it was much more than that.

a/n: i’ve written the “mate is afraid of werewolves” trope like, way too much, so i did edit the idea quite a bit. there is angst and fluff, and reader is kinda scared in a way, but it’s not exactly what was requested but i hope it’s still fine lmao (and if the storyline seems familiar it’s because i kinda yoinked what i had done for minho before bc i thought that would fit pretty well)

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“What are you doing?” Juho demanded. He was damn near ready to rip Chani’s head off when he saw you lean over and peek out from behind the younger boy. His expression softened for a moment as he saw how wide your eyes got, but he had to focus on Chani. The pup was the reason he was sent out, anyway. “You have school today, you idiot.”

“Juho--”

“You can’t just run away whenever you feel like it, y’know.” Juho continued, scolding the younger boy like a parent would. He stopped when he was in front of Chani, but his attention was mostly on you in his peripherals. He could see the way you played with your fingers and seemed like you wanted to sneak away while he was distracted. “Your grades will slip, your parents will start suspecting things, and--”

“Calm down,” you mumbled, wanting to stick up for Chani but also worried about drawing attention to yourself. You had never been afraid of anyone or anything, but you were afraid of Juho -- just not for the reason one might expect. “The kid needed a break.”

Chani frowned, mumbling, “Don’t call me that.”

Juho’s eyes flickered between you and the younger boy, “A break from what?”

“Some kid was giving him and Hansol shit,” you explained as Chani’s cheeks heated up from embarrassment, “and Chani almost shifted on him for picking on his mate. He came to me because I’m the only one that actually listens to his problems.”

“We listen!” Juho insisted. “And...since when are you and _____ friends anyway, huh?”

You gave Juho a look like you weren’t buying that statement, “You were just accusing him for ‘skipping school for no reason’.”

It was times like this when Juho realized you definitely weren’t the bad person everyone seemed to think you were -- as if you being afraid wasn’t a giveaway that you actually had feelings. You were a good person with – from what he could tell – good intentions, that made poor choices. He still didn’t know why you made those choices, but he wasn’t giving up on his mission to find out. But that would have to wait until after he got you to trust him.

Juho sat in the grass across from the two of you, letting his backpack fall from his shoulders, “What was he picking on the two of you for?”

“For the exact reason you think: we’re dating,” he mumbled, staring at his lap. “And I’m not embarrassed by him or that we’re dating, I just don’t get why people have to be so...I dunno.”

“I know, people can be really ignorant,” the older wolf sighed after Chani sat down beside him in the grass -- you stayed standing. “I’m glad you don’t feel anything negative about imprinting on Hansol. Love is love no matter what, and there’s nothing wrong with you and Hansol being together. Did he say anything back?”

“I left before he could say anything,” Chani sighed, toying with his fingers. “If I stayed any longer, I would’ve shifted. I was shaking so much…”

“Well, I’m not happy you ditched school, but I’m glad you made it here and calmed down,” Juho nodded, reaching over to place a hand on Chani’s shoulder. Then he looked at you, his brown eyes giving you a grateful look. “Thanks, _____.”

You just shrugged, “Don’t thank me, I do this all the time.”

Juho turned back to Chani, “I’ll bring you home when I’m done with classes, okay?”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” you promised.

“No, you’re going to class,” he stated, giving you a hard look so you knew he wasn’t backing down. “Inseong’s tutoring in the library until 4pm, so Chani can go sit with him.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Since when do you think you’re the boss of me, Baek Juho?”

After the whole car incident, Juho was surprised that you’d stand up to him like that. He’d always known you were typically snarky and stubborn with a bad attitude, but he also knew you were afraid of him. You avoided him like the plague, and especially after punching Inseong’s car right in front of you, he hadn’t seen you even on campus for two weeks. So...maybe you weren’t afraid of him? Or maybe Chani had helped him out and put in a good word?

He still was’t even sure when Chani befriended you.

“She sure told you,” Chani chuckled, making you smirk.

Juho frowed, grabbing the back of Chani’s neck and beginning to push him back toward campus, “Just get to class!”

-

After bringing Chani home, Juho went home to take a quick nap before he started his homework. Well, “quick nap” ended up lasting five hours. When he woke up, he just felt something…off. It was a typical feeling he got with you as a mate, but it never failed to make his heart race as he was always worrying that you were in danger.

You were a “bad girl” type. You drove a motorcycle, you skipped class, you smoked and drank and you were rumored to do drugs -- which Juho found out was true but it was never anything hard. Actually, the first time Juho met you, he thought you were trying to sell drugs to Hyunggu from Hui’s pack. And that day, after the two of you made eye contact, you turned and booked it in the other direction. He knew you knew what he was, and he knew you were afraid.

“Going out to to find _____?” Dawon guessed as Juho rushed to put his shoes on by the door.

“Don’t wait up.” he joked lightly as he left the  house.

He followed the pull as he drove, leading him to some frat house that was clearly having a party. He should’ve known you’d go out on a Friday night, but he ended up sleeping for too long and couldn’t stop you from going. Now, he’d have to find you in the party and fight you to go home.

He went inside, trying to keep to himself, as he just wanted to get you and get out. The crowd was bigger than it usually was, but he knew he could find you just from the pull – normally, he could also just track you with your scent, but it was difficult to pick out over the alcohol and drugs, though it was still faintly in his nose.

After a few minutes of searching, he finally found you in the middle of the sweaty bodies that were gathered to dance in the living room. You smelled strongly of weed and alcohol, but he was just glad you weren’t passed out or something.

It made him kind of sad he only ever saw you smiling and carefree at parties. He wished he could have fun with you and make you smile like this, but it was hard when you actively avoided him and seemed to have fear in your eyes whenever you saw him.

He frowned as he grabbed your wrist and started bringing you to the exit, feeling a bit bad that he was going to be the cause of the smile being wiped from your face.

“Hey!” you whined when you felt yourself being dragged away from your “friends”. You looked up and saw it was Juho, and you tried your best to pull away. “Hey! Juho! Let me go!”

“You know you shouldn’t be here,” he sighed, knowing he sounded more like a parent than anything else. “I’m bringing you home, _____.”

You figured a werewolf would be more fun; more daring. Why was Juho being such a killjoy? 

“Whyyyyy?” you groaned, dragging out the last letter until Juho had to turn around and put a hand over your mouth.

It was high time Juho worked this out with you. How long had he been chasing after you and trying to get you to like him? And he was still nowhere near getting closer to you. He wanted to know why you did bad things like party an unhealthy amount and rely on getting high to feel happy. He knew you weren’t a bad person, so why would you do bad things?

“When I get you home, we’re having a talk,” he stated, indicating he’d have no backtalk about it. He turned back around, this time holding your waist firmly as he guided you out, supporting most of your weight as you wobbled. “I’ll have somebody come pick up your motorcycle.”

“No, I wanna--”

Before you could finish your slurred protest, Juho had turned around, and easily held you over his shoulder, carrying you to his car. You didn’t even bother saying anything, your body hanging limply as he walked. Part of you actually enjoyed the closeness, and you found yourself pouting when he put you down.

“What?” he asked at your expression as he opened the car. “Is this about your bike?”

“No,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So what’s the problem?”

“You let me go!”

He blinked a few times as he processed your words, and then the corners of his mouth tugged up in a smile, his inner wolf rumbling with joy, “I’m sorry. Get in the car, okay?”

You complied, letting him help you just because you liked the tingles his skin left on yours before he buckled you up and closed the door. Once he got in on his own side, he started up the car. You shifted in your seat, pulling your knees to your chest while you stared at him. Maybe if you knew how good it felt to have him touch you, you wouldn’t be so afraid.

No, you’d be even more afraid. You were just too drunk to remember why you avoided Juho.

“Yes?” he chuckled as he pulled away from the side of the road and started toward your apartment.

“How do you always find me?” you wondered.

He reached over to pat your knee, “We’ve already had this conversation, _____.”

Before he could take his hand back, you grabbed it and held in in your own. While Juho’s eyes widened, and he let out a soft, involuntary purr, you didn’t see the big deal in your sloppy mindset.

“What’s this for?” he wondered, his cheeks staining pink.

“I like when you’re close to me,” you admitted with a hiccup at the end that made Juho smile. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not,” he promised, though he was laughing when he spoke, “I just think you’re being cute.”

“I’m cute?” you repeated, to which he nodded. “Nobody’s ever called me that… Huh…”

Juho glanced over at you, and saw you were smiling to yourself. He just left the conversation there, wanting to get you home as quickly as possible, and it was better if you were in a good mood.

Once at your apartment building, Juho parked his car where he usually did, and called Youngbin to pick up your motorcycle as he carried you on his back up to your floor. He unlocked the door for you as you softly played with his hair, the smile never leaving his face. Finally inside, he carefully set you down on the floor.

Your apartment was extremely small. It was a tiny studio apartment, so your bedroom, living room, and kitchen were all one room. You were thankful you at least had a bathroom, but you didn’t even have a tub – just a very small shower that didn’t even have hot water half the time. You worked one job that wasn’t very good – if you didn’t count the dealing you did on the side – and you were also trying to go to college in an attempt to turn your life around. You were lucky enough to even get this place. You were just happy you weren’t homeless.

“Youngbin’s getting your bike, and he’ll park it in the parking garage.” he told you as you stumbled your way toward your small dresser. “Where’re you going?”

You yanked open one of the drawers before tossing your tight crop top off of your body, letting it drop haphazardly to the floor. Juho just watched, shaking his head as you somehow almost fell over trying to get a over-sized t-shirt out of the drawer.

He walked up to you in only a few steps, taking the shirt from you and turning it right-side-out, “Arms up.”

You complied willingly, enjoying the feeling of having someone care for you. Juho smiled fondly at you as you just stood in front of him in your shorts, and a black bra. He figured he would’ve felt sort of weird being around you while you were half-naked, but he didn’t really care. He just saw it as him taking care of you.

He pulled the shirt over your head before he went into the bathroom in search of something to clean your makeup off your face. While he did that, you took your shorts off and sat down on the mattress, waiting patiently for him.

As soon as Juho sat down across from you, you closed your eyes so he could take off your makeup for you, “Why are you being nice to me? Don’t you hate me like everyone else?”

“I don’t hate you, _____.” he replied, softly wiping off your foundation when you released his wrist. “Don’t you hate me? You always seem so...afraid of me. Is it because I’m a werewolf?”

“No,” you mumbled, closing your eyes so he could clear off the eye makeup, “it’s not that you’re a werewolf. I’m afraid of how I feel.”

“How you feel?” he chuckled. “What does that mean?”

“I think I love you.”

Juho paused, pulling his hand away to look at you. You opened your eyes when you realized he wasn’t putting the wipe to your face again, but you didn’t understand the surprise and confusion on his face. You just stared back at him neutrally.

“You’re afraid that you love me?” he wondered quietly, his voice soft like a faint breeze in the middle of the night. “Why?”

You shrugged like a child, but your response was much less playful. “I've never felt the way I do about you toward anyone else. You make me feel...all weird. But a good weird, so that makes it bad. And you’re a werewolf which is supposed to be strong and cool and badass and like, that makes it even worse because I’m even more attracted to you because of it. I don’t wanna love anybody.”

“_____, why don’t you want to be in love?”

Instead of answering his question, you let out a huff. “Juho, you should go home.”

“I’m staying the whole night to make sure you’re okay in the morning,” he replied, taking the hint that you didn’t want to talk about it, and finishing wiping off your face instead. “Youngbin has to come get your motorcycle keys anyway.”

“But Juho--”

“No ‘but Juho’,” he said, cutting you off. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t care if you're afraid of your feelings for me. I can help you be better if you’ll let me.”

“If you get closer to me, you’ll just get your life ruined,” you blabbered, tripping over your own words as your emotions got the best of you – it didn’t help that you weren’t sober yet, either. “Why won’t you just listen to me?”

“Why don’t you?” he chuckled despite the fact you were clearly upset. “_____, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I know you know how imprinting works; I love you no matter what, and I always will. I just don’t like the things you do, but that can be changed.”

“What if it’s too late for me?” you asked, sniffling from the tears that started to fill your eyes.

“It’s not, I promise,” he told you as he stood up to throw the makeup wipe away. “Now lay down, okay?”

You sighed but did as he said, curling up like usual.

Juho was surprised you opened up, even if it was just a little bit. He was getting somewhere, so that was good. Not a lot of it made much sense to him, but it was still something. It also didn’t explain why you were always partying and getting high, but he was sure that would fall into place somewhere. He just had to be patient.

He walked over to the couch, figuring he could sit there until you fell asleep. However you waved him over despite the fact you didn’t even seem to want him to stay to begin with. You just couldn’t resist that feeling of having someone want you around. It was new for you, and you weren’t sober yet. Your mind wasn’t thinking right, so you just went with what your heart felt.

He sat on the mattress, leaning his back against the wall. You pulled him to lay down before laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes, deciding your mate was much more comfortable than the cheap pillows you slept on.

As Juho listened to your breathing, you listened to his heartbeat that lulled you to sleep. Juho looked down at your sleeping face, brushing some hair from it.

“I just want to help you, _____…” he sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

-

It was too early for Juho to be having bad feelings. It was the middle of the day on a Thursday, why was he having bad feelings? He had to find out, so he left the campus to go to your apartment and check up on you.

Thankfully, your motorcycle was in it’s usual space, and he sensed your presence when he got to your door. He knocked, calling your name, but he got no answer. He could hear your heartbeat, but he still panicked, knowing you could’ve passed out or something.

He managed to get the door open without using his strength to break it -- your apartment wasn’t really the best or safest place -- and almost cried when he saw you standing in the kitchen with a bowl in one hand, and a lighter in the other. The room was full of smoke, and completely smelled like weed, but fuck, you were okay.

“_____,” he sighed in relief as he closed the door and walked over to you quickly, “why aren’t you at work?”

You just shrugged, putting the bowl back to your lips. Juho quickly pulled it away from you, noticing your bloodshot eyes, and the way they didn’t completely focus on him when you looked at him. There was no doubt in his mind you were completely baked, but he’d never seen you this high, even at a party.

“Don’t shrug at me, give me answers!” he demanded, gripping your shoulders, looking at you with worry. “What happened?”

“I got fired, okay!” you burst, shoving him away angrily. “I had to sell at work because I have no fucking money, and somebody got mad at me because I wouldn’t sell their shit to Chani. They snitched on me to my boss, so I got fired. And now…”

As you spoke, your anger dissipated to fear and sadness. You shook your head, covering your face while you squeezed your eyes shut to keep the tears that filled your eyes from spilling over. This one time, you couldn’t keep your tough front up, and it both frightened and worried Juho. He’d never seen you really cry until now, and he’d never heard your voice break like it had. He’d seen you afraid before, but never this kind of scared or upset.

“I’m going to be homeless, Juho.” you laughed weakly, rubbing your glassy eyes before you looked at up at him. “I’m broke. I fucked up again, and for the second time in my life, I’ll be homeless.”

Second? Juho shook his head, realizing that wasn’t the big issue here. The issue was getting you to come down, and calm down. He took your hand, bringing you to the couch with him to sit. You continued to wipe under your eyes to keep tears from falling, but you’d swipe away the ones that managed to escape, hoping Juho didn’t notice.

But he did notice. He noticed how your lower lip quivered, and your hands shook, and your expression tried to play it off like it was some kind of dumb joke but your eyes were full of fear and uncertainty. It scared him to see you so vulnerable, but he knew this was a step in the right direction.

“_____, listen to me,” he said softly, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes, “everything will be okay.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you continued to play it off like everything was okay – something you wouldn’t have been able to manage if you weren’t on drugs that always made you feel giggly, “No it won’t. I know I fucked up, and I know this is a sign that I’ll always be how I am.”

“That’s not true. You can change, you just need help,” he insisted.

You just snorted, pushing his arms away, “I wanna do it on my own. I’ll drag you down with me.”

He sighed deeply, realizing he had to just have this talk with you, “_____, you have to tell me where all of this is coming from. Why do you think so lowly of yourself?”

So you broke and told him, giggling through the whole thing because you found it all funny in a sick, twisted way. You and your life was just one giant shit show, and that was why you didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. You knew you’d ruin that poor person’s life because you were a walking train wreck that couldn’t be fixed. Your parents were killed in a car crash, but none of your family wanted to take you in. Your grandparents were too old to care for you, and your aunt and uncle had kids of their own. They planned on putting you up for adoption, so you ran away before they could. You were on your own at fifteen, going to different women and children shelters until you’d overstayed your welcome. You graduated high school at seventeen, somehow managing to pass your classes. You got accepted to a university because you managed to keep your grades up, but you didn’t have the money to support yourself. That was when you started selling drugs for a girl that stayed at the shelter you were staying in at the time.

From there, you built a name for yourself, and eventually stemmed away from her to do your own thing. You managed to get an apartment – a shitty one, but still your own place – before you landed the job taking orders and answering the phone at a rundown pizzeria nearby. And that was where you were up until the very moment you were fired. After that, everything you slowly built up, while it was very small things to anybody else, came crashing down.

Juho listened to your story without interruptions, though he didn’t like the way you kept laughing and crying at the same time. He almost thought you were hysterical, but you still kept your cool and never panicked.

At the end, he shook his head, missing one thing, “So…why do you go party and get high all the time?”

“Coping,” you shrugged, like it was no big deal. “When I do that, I don’t have to think about…this.” you said, gesturing around you. “My life’s completely fucked, Juho. Who would want this?”

While you giggled about your joke of a life, Juho chewed on his lip, trying to think of the best actions to take. He’d definitely have to bring you to his place, though he knew that the alpha wouldn’t be the happiest about it since Ellie was living with them now. But where did he go from there? There was hardly room for his pack of nine plus Inseong’s mate. How would they fit another person?

“I’ll fix this,” Juho nodded, speaking to both you and himself.

“Stop trying to fix things for me,” you muttered, reaching for the bowl he had put on the coffee table. “I told you that I don’t want to fall in love, and you hanging around isn’t helping that. I’m a lost cause anyway.”

“You,” he began sharply, taking your hand reaching for the drugs, and forcing you to look at him again so you’d know he was serious, his eyes turning a bright red that almost hypnotized you, “are far from a lost cause. I will help you, even if it’s the last thing I ever do. And I don’t care if you don’t want to fall in love because you’re afraid that you’ll sabotage yourself. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, the first thing I’m doing is bringing you to my place.”

So he picked you up on his back, and brought you to his car. He figured your bike would be safe in the garage until somebody came back for it, so he left with the few clothes you had, and whatever small number of other belongings you had.

You were still completely baked when you got to Youngbin’s, and the wolves’ noses scrunched up before you even entered. When they saw you, they finally understood where the smell was coming from.

“Why would you bring her here like that?” Inseong demanded. “Ellie’s upstairs, and--”

Juho told you to go to the only bedroom in the apartment before he explained the situation to his pack. They had to admit, they felt bad previously judging you, so they let Juho do whatever he had to do.

After Juho got you a bottle of water, he went to check on you. You were staring at the bed like you were staring at buried treasure. He just stood beside you, watching you until you finally noticed his presence.

“Do you see this?!” you gasped, gesturing to the bed. “You have a bed frame! Holy shit, you guys are like, loaded!”

He chuckled, opening the water bottle for you, “Sure, _____. Drink some water, please.”

You took the bottle without complaint since you were starting to get cotton mouth. You drank almost half the bottle before handing it back and flopping down on the bed. Juho screwed the cap back on as he sat beside you, trying to think about what to say next.

“I know I’ll regret this when I’m sober,” you said out of nowhere, staring at the floor like you were spaced out. Juho just looked at you, waiting for you to continue. You looked over at him, your eyes still bloodshot and glossy. “Please don’t make fun of me for it later.”

“I never would,” he swore, placing a warm hand over one of yours. “But you need to stop running away from me to try to save me or yourself or whoever. I’m going to love you no matter what, and I want to help you get better.”

“It’s not the help,” you shook your head, “it’s the getting close to people. If my family didn’t want me…I can’t see why you would.”

“Well, I do,” he stated surely, moving his hand off of yours in favor of putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to his side. “You’re always taking gambles; doing things you shouldn’t do. Consider this a gamble.”

“My biggest one yet,” you giggled, back to your drug-induced self.

“Alright, you need to sleep this off,” he decided, gently guiding you to lay down. “I’ll check up on you soon, okay?”

You were almost giddy from getting to sleep in a bed that was off the floor. Juho tucked you in before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Come find me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Juho.”

“Anything for you.”

-

Juho opened the door as soon as you sat up, looking around the room. Unfortunately, you remembered everything, and you were immediately embarrassed as soon as he entered the room. Your face heated up as you cast your eyes downward, but he was able to tell how you were feeling.

“We don’t have to talk about it, you know,” he told you, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“So what, we just move on from it like it didn’t happen?” you asked with a scoff. “I know we have to talk about it.”

“I promise I won’t ever leave you,” he declared, sitting on the edge of the bed beside where you were laying. “I know it’s still scary for you, but you have to trust me. I’ll help you find a new job, I’ll help you find a place to live, and I’ll help you get sober.”

“What if I ruin your life too?” you asked quietly, staring at your lap that was still covered with a blanket.

“The only way my life can be ruined is if you leave it,” he said, giving you a warm half-smile. “You know, when you were drunk, you told me you liked being around me.”

Your cheeks blushed a deeper red, refusing to meet his gaze, “Well, drunk _____ also doesn’t make the best decisions. She’s not to be trusted.”

“I know you meant it. You feel the pull, _____. Don’t resist the puuuuull,” he sang playfully, leaning in as he tried to look at your blushing face.

You laughed, shoving him away lightly, “Dude, quit it!”

“I know you love the affection, _____. You fell asleep on me, you held my hand, and you complained when I didn’t carry you. Just…stop trying to keep me away. If I didn’t mean what I said, I would’ve given up already. I love you now, and I always will. I won’t go anywhere.”

You finally glanced up at him after a few moments of not saying anything, and just mulling over his words. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“You better not tell anyone I was clingy,” was all you said.

“Are,” he corrected, brushing some hair from your face, and smirking when you leaned into his touch. “You are clingy. But I love it.”

-

A few months later, everything was different. You not only worked at a cute little boutique near campus, but you snagged a side job tutoring a few underclassmen since you were great with math after dealing drugs for those few years – and boy, did some of these kids pay well.

You were able to buy a nicer studio apartment in a better neighborhood – you still didn’t have a bed frame, but you had a decent mattress to sleep on – which made both you and Juho feel better about you living alone. You kept insisting on him moving in, but he refused until he managed to get a job to help pay rent.

“And where do you think you’re going, _____?” Juho smirked as he walked in on you checking yourself out in the mirror hung on your wall.

You spun around, raising an eyebrow as you slowly walked toward him hands on your hips, “Are you in charge of me?”

“Considering I can pick you up well over my head,” he hummed, shutting the door behind him as he entered, “I’d say I can. You promised to quit parties, _____.”

“I also promised to let Dawon borrow my motorcycle, yet that never happened either,” you pointed out. “It won’t be as bad if you come with me, right?”

Your mate made a face, his nose scrunching up at the mere thought of the scents that would attack his nostrils, “Still bad.”

Juho was not at all what you thought werewolves would be. He wasn’t dangerous or badass. He was a cat dad -- which was ironic since he was basically a giant dog -- who liked staying in and cuddling. He purred when you played with his hair, and his want for kisses never seemed to run out -- even if you did have a reputation to keep up. Juho was a soft and clingy werewolf, and you absolutely loved him more for it.

“I won’t bite this time!” you promised.

“Look, since you’re all dressed up,” he began with a smile creeping onto his face, “how about we go out tonight? We haven’t been on a date in a while.”

You couldn’t be happier with the way things were going with Juho. You wished you’d let him into your life properly a long time ago.

“Like where?” you quizzed.

“Where do you feel like going.”

“Party.”

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’re impossible.”

“We already knew this, yes,” you nodded with a laugh. “C’mon, Juho, please?”

He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, “For three hours, and you’re only allowed three drinks; no drugs.”

You grinned, grabbing his hand as you raced for the door, “Can we take my bike?”

“Can I drive?” he wondered.

You snorted as you dragged him to the stairs, thinking the elevator wasn’t fast enough for your liking, “No.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, matching his tone, “You love that bike more than me.”

“I love you way more, I swear,” you laughed.

Because you did, and you both thanked whatever greater power was out there that fate brought you two together.

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 8

I know its not Monday, But, I literally have written so many cute things and it’ll take forever to get to them so I’m moving to posting twice a week (please don’t feel like y’all have to keep up with that I’m just an over-excited nerd :P

Slightly longer chapter! Erica is finally getting to meet the support group (and Hannah) for herself! 

Tags: @sunshinepascal @rentskenobi @maybege @princessxkenobi @obaby-wan @agent-450

 Masterlist

Erica going to the support group 4 months dating

“You agreed to meet him here. You agreed to meet him here and there’s no reason why you can’t do this. He said there would be cake, I promise, everything will be ok. It’s possible you might not even have to say anything other than your name.”

Erica takes a deep breath after her pep talk, leaning her head against the head rest and counting to even her breathing. Where was Roman?

It’s still 20 minutes before the start she reasons, he probably isn’t as eager to be early as she is. She thought maybe if she showed up early enough she’d have adequate time to prepare herself before going in (as if she hadn’t spent the whole morning and previous evening doing the same thing, her mind traitorously reminds her). She bites the bullet and reaches to call Roman.

“Hello darling” She can tell he’s smiling and she’s about to scold him “Butch is driving the monstrosity, you needn’t worry for my safety.” He tacks on helpfully.

“Roman I don’t know if I can do this.” Maybe she hadn’t intended on being so honest but he already knows her most guarded secret, he probably understands.

“How can I help?”

She drops her head against the seat again, somehow he always knows what to ask and it’s making her feel like crying again at how caring he is. “I, are you on your way?”

“We’ll be there in… three minutes tops dear one.”

She takes a deep breath. She can handle that. “I’m not going in without you.”

“Of course not ace, I can’t have someone steal you away”

The thought makes her heart leap to her throat anew. She hadn’t even considered the prospect of having to deal with that while she was here, wasn’t this supposed to be a support group? Isn’t that like a safe space? Good God is nothing sacred anymore?

A car pulling in next to her breaks her free from her thoughts and she sighs in relief at realizing it is what they have dubbed ‘the monstrosity’ (much to Butcher’s dismay). Roman is out of his door and over to open hers in a flash, holding his arms out in question and she dives in without a second thought.

“We don’t have to if you aren’t ready today.”

She shakes her head against his shoulder, picking her head up slightly to say against his ear. “These are your friends now, they’d miss you.”

“I can send Butch to tell them I’ll be back next week.”

Erica pulls away slightly to look at Butch and Roman turns with her.

“Boss, I wouldn’t want to—”

“Then again” he turns to look at the sky absent mindedly, “if he simply pops in and says we’ve both been called away to the advantage of a certain librarian who needs assistance shelving books, I suppose that can’t be helped now can it?” He finishes looking at Erica again, definitely teasing, and she swallows slightly before nodding.

“I’ll go in then, I want to meet her.” Her eyes go to Butch, “Unless you really would want the afternoon off? I don’t mind doing a movie, or—”

She trails off, eyes searching the ground and Roman tightens his arms around her reassuringly.

“I don’t mind either way Ms. Erica, if you feel up to it today, we’ll give it a go together. My Hannah would understand either way.”

She looks to Butch again. “Do you promise she won’t be mean to me?”

Roman tilts his head, where had that come from? Erica sounds like a young girl going to school for the first time, not anything like the strong and fearless woman he knows her to be.

Butcher on the other hand looks horrified. “No, no, no” He reaches out to her shoulders and she meets his hand half-way with her own, pulling him to embrace both her and Roman. “Hannah would never, y’all two would get along like a house on fire” He’s lowered his voice now, speaking softly and his tone bleeds comfort around their huddled trio, even Roman’s starting to feel safe. “If she was that’d be it Ms. Erica, I can’t let anything happen to you two.” He’s rubbing her back slowly now, “And you know how the boss gets if you’re sad Ms. Erica, gets all weepy” Roman starts to struggle from his side of the huddle, “can’t get anything done” Roman is now avidly struggling, “can’t even get out of bed in the morning—”

“Really? Must you?”

Erica’s laughing, “Alright girls you’re both pretty, now if I can be a member of a crime syndicate, I can handle a support group, I need to meet this lovely woman of yours.” She finishes with a smile and Roman beams, She wasn’t wrong about him viewing the others in the group as his friends and since he made them in the process of helping her, it’s something he feels the need to share.

They head in together, the door doesn’t leave enough room for them to walk arm in arm but Erica walks between them when possible and soon they find themselves coming up to the desk. Where Hannah is currently absent. Erica tilts her head but Butch speaks before she can, whisper shouting in (fond) annoyance.

“Love I told you not to climb that ladder when there’s nobody there to catch ya!!!”

Erica looks to her right at Butchers exclamation and finds that ‘love’ is a small slight woman with darker skin, who is balanced (rather precariously she will admit), at the top step of a ladder. She also turns to look at Butch, smiling affectionately before raising her eyes and making eye contact with Erica. Erica smiles back in an effort to make herself seem less intimidating (being 6 feet tall doesn't always help). Hannah, however, enthusiastically extends her arm above her head to wave, much to butcher’s chagrin, (who is attempting to coax her down from the ladder) and Erica waves back shyly. She certainly seemed nice enough.

Hannah begins to descend the ladder, Butch’s hands finding her waist to guide her as soon as she’s within reach (which only takes about a step on her part) and three steps from the bottom he scoops her up to twirl her around before setting her down again, face nuzzling into her neck from his place behind her.

Erica turns toward Roman to give them privacy and he brushes his fingers against her in question. She takes them, nodding, gazing into his eyes for a last assurance before hearing Butch’s quiet ‘love I want you to meet someone’ and turning to face them both.

Hannah seems to bounce almost, still whispering but exuding joy all the same, “Hello!” She extends her hand gently, “I’m Hannah, I work here and help the group when they need it” she elbows Butch softly with her other arm, “I’m also dating this hunk so there’s that too.” She breaks eye contact to wink at him before turning to Erica again and smiling kindly. “I think it’s brave what you’re doing, I know it isn’t easy to talk about things that are so personal.”

Erica breaths a sigh of relief, taking Hannah’s hand in both of her own. “Thank you.” She blinks before releasing the other woman and looks down at her feet to gather herself before she speaks again. “I’m Erica” She elbows Roman in much the same fashion “I’m dating the other hunk.” She gives Hannah a lopsided smile (the one she makes when emulating something she isn’t quite sure about but hopes she’s doing right, Roman’s seen it before and if he were braver in the library he’d pick her up and spin her like Butch did Hannah because she’s doing so well). They’d had late conversations about how today would go, Erica desperate for every detail he could give, wanting to plan her every move, and even then she’d finally confessed to feeling unsure she would be able to go through with it. To discuss struggles that she’d worked so hard for years to hide would be digging up a lot of old memories and she wasn’t sure she could. Not alone, and certainly not with others around. He’d settled on just telling her that she could tap him twice on the thigh at any point and he’d give Butch ‘the look’ and they’d leave, she didn’t have to do it all in one day. So far, she’s swallowed all her fears and been amazing, part of him wants to tap her thigh now so he can bring her to that ice cream place and shower her with affection for being so strong.

But alas, Hannah is chatting up a storm with her about all sorts of things now, makeup, clothes, where she got the adorable sweater she’s wearing and wondering if Erica ever has trouble with her sleeves being too short. And Erica is smiling fully (her real one, not the lopsided one, and that alone is a huge step) so he doesn’t think she’ll let him pull her away. It might be an even better prospect honestly.

He makes eye contact with Butch and raises his eyebrows, “It seems we’re both in want of a partner, do you suppose things will ever be the same?” He puts on a mournful face as if a breakup had actually occurred. Butch plays along, though he’s fighting a smile.

“No boss, think we ought to just stick with ourselves, it seems we’ve been abandoned.”

A ‘SHHHHHHH’ is whisper shouted from somewhere and both the girls seem to jolt back to their surroundings. “Oh goodness” comes Hannah’s quick whisper, “I don’t mean to keep you! You all run along now” She answers Butch’s protest before it’s even out, “yes I promise to stay off the ladder” She tugs him down by the collar to plant a quick pec on his lips (him bending at the waist and her on the tips of her toes and straining up) before turning back to Roman and Erica.

“Roman, that is a wonderful woman you have found, and I swear if you hurt her I’ll fight you.”

Erica pauses before leaning forward, putting her arms out to offer Hannah a hug. She gets one. “You’re the best.”

Hannah smiles when they pull away, “Girls have to stick together, I got you.” She pats Erica’s elbow and winks at her before shooing them again, walking with them a few steps before moving behind her desk. The slap to Butcher’s butt seems to echo through the library and Erica nearly snorts, turning around to give Hannah a thumbs up around Butcher before walking again (she misses the way the man is completely unphased by it but Roman doesn’t and oh boy is that going to get him teased in the near future).

They walk down the hall together like Butch and Roman have done so many times before, Erica taking Roman’s hand at the last second, whether to comfort herself or to subtly show he’s hers she isn’t sure but it helps both things. She glances through the room as they enter, sticking close to Roman, and smiles when she hears an excited “Butch!!” from the far side.

The blond boy Roman mentioned, Tom, comes bounding over, nearly throwing himself into Butch’s waiting arms and Butch turns into the momentum, swinging the boy’s legs a little. “Hey squirt? How ya doin?”

“Oh I’m swell! I learned that word this week, swell, it means, um, nice. Do you like it?”

Butch smiles, “It’s great. Can I introduce you to somebody I think is swell?”

“Butcher” Tom says confidently, “I already know Roman. And Hannah.”

Butch laughs, “Well you can find more than two people swell!” He turns to gesture at Erica with a sweep of his arm and Tom’s eyes widen. Jenny appears behind him and Roman shares a smile with her, he knows Erica won’t mind the young boy at all, he’d told her how sweet he was and if anyone would understand it was Erica.

“You’re the pretty lady. The ace Roman always talks about!” Ok so maybe he hadn’t expected that exactly. Tom walks forward and presents his hand to shake (much the same way he did to Roman that first day). “I’m Tom, and Jenny is my sister, she’s around here somewhere” This time the boy’s eyes don’t leave Erica as he mentions the other name, staying steadfast on her face. “You have pretty eyes.”

Erica is smiling (and blushing a little Roman notes), looking down at the boy with fondness before glancing up to (who she assumes is) Jenny. She gives her a smile as well before reaching out to shake Tom’s hand. “I’m Erica, and” She looks to Roman, “I am the ace Roman talks about.”

“Can I keep calling you the pretty lady though?”

Jenny chooses this moment to step in, “I’m Jenny, Tom sometimes says what’s on his mind without—”

“No I meant to say that, look at her Jenny she’s beautiful!”

Erica laughs a little awkwardly now and Roman decides to help, “Did Marie bring the cake this time T? I’ve been waiting to have some of hers but I keep forgetting!”

The boy’s eyes widen in wonder again, hurriedly grabbing Roman’s hand and dragging him towards the other end of the room. Jenny takes a step closer to Erica as they both watch the boys walk away fondly.

“He really does talk about you here, and he’s been so eager to learn, he listens like it’s going out of style.”

“That’s my Roman.” It’s quiet but Erica realizes belatedly she did say it out loud, and she blinks quickly to reorganize herself and turns to Jenny, “He just, likes to educate himself, loves to learn.” She looks back to the table, hoping she hasn’t already made a fool of herself in the first five minutes.

“Well, that isn’t the only thing he loves.”

She looks back to Jenny in surprise, mouth going dry before she can say anything. “We haven’t—”

“I didn’t mean to pry its just” Jenny, bites her lips in thought, “he talks about you so fondly, and, it’s a big step to come to a group for something he doesn’t experience, not a lot of people are willing to do that for someone else. I don’t have a lot of men around Tom but, he takes cues from both of them and he’s grown up so much since they started coming, I wanted to thank you.”

Erica looks to Jenny slightly shocked, she hadn’t even thought of that butterfly affect. She reaches to rest a hand on Jenny’s forearm before answering seriously. “Roman is a wonderful person and an even better man, if Tom wants to grow up to be like him, I’m glad to share him anytime.”

Jenny meets her eyes with the understanding of everything that’s going unsaid and covers Erica’s hand with her own. “Do you do hugs?”

Erica smiles, “I don’t mind at all.”

The support group meeting goes much the same way, (a thousand times better than Erica hoped) and Roman drives her back to the penthouse for their dinner date (Butch stuck around the library for “reasons” and Roman is all too thrilled at the prospect of giving Erica all the details.

“Thank you.”

Erica thinks it’s as good a place to start as any, today felt, cathartic almost. To be around people who felt the same way she did, who saw things the same way and were just as uncomfortable in some situations as she was. Roman doesn’t say anything so she continues.

“I, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it but, I liked it. They were all nice and Tom really was a sweetheart like you said and Jenny is a wonderful woman. Hearing them talk about, feeling awkward in ‘meet cute’ scenarios and in the beginning of relationships, or even friendships? That was..” She trails off, shaking her head in amazement, “healing. Like I knew I wasn’t alone, but it’s so much more meaningful hearing someone else describe the exact same feelings, knowing they are actually understanding you because they’re right there saying it. It’s, it’s wonderful Roman. I can’t thank you enough.”

He nods, smiling at the road and reaches a hand across the console to offer it to her, she brings his open palm to her lips to place a kiss on it before wrapping it in both her hands.

“Remember dinner is on me”

“Not a chance Ace.”

“Ok well, tacos? Please?”

Roman laughs before Erica speaks again, “There’s two on the way to your house, one on main and one on 3rd street.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“I was just saying its not out of our way!”

Roman keeps chuckling, “I never said I minded”

They pick the closer one to the house in the hopes the food won’t be cold when they get home, Roman pulls into the drive through (something he’s been using a lot more since they started dating) before turning to ask what she wants.

“To be allowed to pay, that’s what I want.”

He sighs, “Fiiiiinnnneeee”

“And two burritos.” She says finally. “Please.” Comes the afterthought.

***************************

[ninjakasuga]

Sonal Celebration Week Submission: Reunion

In case Tumblr ate my direct submission to @boundforfreedomsonsal I’m also posting my submission myself with the Tumblr tagged. So finally the celebration is here, and here’s my first submission. Taking place around issue 50 of the Archie-series, this is my take on when Sonic woke Sally up. As well as my own fanfic head-canon injection where I personally feel after all the kerfuffle with Endgame, Sonic and Sally got their confessions out and started the road to being a couple there. Instead of the long, convoluted delayed process, we fans had to wait nearly ten years to see to fruition. 

REUNION:

 The only sound was the crunching of leaves under Sonic’s shoes after he slowed down upon reaching the memorial. His heart instantly ached at the sight of it, despite knowing from Doctor Quack that Sally wasn’t dead. However, the sight of her ‘viewing’ memorial and her body resting in the clear-view casket, just hammered home what was his reality until a few minutes ago. His heart was hammering in his chest. The closer he got, his brain reminding him of the water-fowl doctor’s words. ‘She’s alive, but in a coma. Her tenacious will-power probably saved her life as much as her getting medical attention quickly. However, while Sally’s body has mended, I have no clue if and when she will wake up.’ 

Sonic himself had been advised to stay in bed given how utterly fatigued he had been through the entire ‘Endgame’ fiasco as everyone was calling Sally’s seeming death, his frame-job, and Robotnik’s near victory which ended in his defeat. Shuddering Sonic looked at his hands, they still tingled from impacting on the fatso’s face, and by God, if the Ultimate Annihilator hadn’t taken out Robuttnik; he was ready to end him himself. A thought that scared him to the core, especially on how he still felt okay with the act if had taken Robotnik’s life.

Guess luck was looking out for him, and maybe, just maybe luck would hold out again.

As he reached the see-through casket, a disguised medical pod, his mind snapped back to the here and now. Sally looked so peaceful, so, very dead. He knew she wasn’t, but the brief flicker of thought made his heart jump, and his breathing increase for a moment. All the pent up emotions were wanting to spill out, but he held them in. Focusing back on his task, Sonic found the latches sealing the casket and input the combination code into the five buttons Doctor Quack had given him. After the code was inputted, a soft but potent ‘hiss’ sound could be heard as the casket was unsealed and could now be opened as he wished. Grasping the edge of the container, he pulls open the clear-top, which flipped open from the bottom before automatic hinges locked the canopy into place.

Looking down upon Sally’s form, he could now see clearly, she was breathing, but very shallowly. His gaze briefly went up to the clear-canopy of her viewing casket. He had to give kudos to Doctor Quack for installing some weird, trick into the thing that hid the fact Sally was breathing from anyone who came to pay their respects. If he hadn’t pulled out all the stops, Robotnik would have undoubted discovered the ruse and finished the job Snively set into motion through Drago and Hershey. Kneeling down, he reached out, softly touching her auburn hair, and gently began to caress it. Sally always had such soft hair, even when the humidity of the summer would frizzle it to heck, somehow she still kept it silky soft. Smiling Sonic trailed his hand down to her face, feeling those adorable cheek tufts, and very, very happy he could feel the warmth of her body under her fur. Another much-needed indicator she was alive, which helped set his still hammer-beating heart at ease to some degree.

As a soft breeze blew past him, the blue hedgehog stared at the Princess’ sleeping face, wishing her eyes would open. The last few days of thinking she had died weighed on him all the things he never got to say to her, the regrets of not having gotten to say such things to her. The denial of things to come, things he at the time felt he’d taken for granted that they would come in due time, only there was no time. Now, she was alive, but would she even wake up so he could make good on doing all those things he should have already said and made clear.

Life was too short, and thankfully he’d be given another chance, and if she’d only wake up, he’d make good on telling her everything he’d always felt. With a long sigh exhaling from his lips he looks down upon Sally’s peacefully, sleeping figure again as a stray thought crossed his mind.

“No way it’d work, just stupid story-book mumbo-jumbo…” He muttered to himself, but yet at the same time, what else did he have to lose? Stranger things have come true in his short life. Grasping the edges of the casket, Sonic leaned over, planting a soft kiss to Sally’s cheek, murmuring softly, almost pleadingly, hoping it might awaken her. “I love you, Sally, please come back to us, to me.” Pulling back from the kiss, he sat on his knees at her side, watching her, and unsurprised nothing happened. That’s what you get for putting hope in fairytale nonsense.

Just as Sonic was about to pick up Sally to take her back to the hospital, someplace less out in the open, he saw her eyebrows furrow and twitch. His breath caught in his throat as he saw more signs of Sally stirring awake. “Sal?” He asked quietly, hope slowly blooming into his tone. Her mouth opened and a low groan escaped, followed by her mouth smacking together as if she was trying to get rid of morning dry-ness of the throat. The cute ears on top of her head twitched, and her fingers began to move, unclasping from the pose she was placed in, and resting on the bottom of the casket. With a smooth, if slow motion, Sally pushed herself up into a sitting position; flinching as if the motion caused her a brief bout of pain. 

“Ahh…” Her voice was scratchy and parched, but clearly hers. Finally, her eyelids managed to force themselves open, and Sonic soon found those beautiful blue peepers looking into his own as Sally craned her head causing their gazes to meet at last. Her gaze turned to one of concern as she saw Sonic’s expression along with big-wet tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Sonic? Is that you? What’s wrong, are you okay-?” Sally’s words of confusion turned to concern and were soon interrupted as she found herself caught up in a big hug that threatened to expel the contents of her lungs as she found herself gasping for air.

“YOU’RE AWAKE!” Sonic cried, standing up fully with Sally in his arms, swinging her around as he both laughed and cried happily in pure, unadulterated joy.

“S-Sonic! A-air, can’t breathe!” Gasped the squirrel-munk as the blue hedgehog spun her around, adding a bit of dizziness to her lack of oxygen.

Realizing this, Sonic quickly sets her on her feet and lets go of her, but his hands instantly snatch hers and hold on. As if afraid letting go would allow her to disappear. “Sorry Sal! I just-I just…” His words trailed off as his voice broke. Unable to really say anything he just smiled at her. “J-just glad you’re back.”

Shaking her head, she gently pulls her hands from his and cups his face, looking concerned. “What happened Sonic? You never cry unless something big happened.”

Sniffling the hedgehog wiped his eyes, trying to dry his tears. “We all thought you were dead.”

Staring at him blankly, Sally couldn’t speak as it felt like a lump was in her throat, but she somehow managed after a few beats. “Dead?!” Her tone started off incredulous but as she looked about, one look at the memorial site told her Sonic wasn’t blowing things out of proportion. Putting a hand to her head, Sally wracked her brain and slowly recalled falling down the cut rope. “I fell, that’s right I fell, my rope was cut.”

With a nod, Sonic explained everything. Her near-death experience, his being framed for her murder, Robotnik’s plans, and all the little bits and pieces that fit into each puzzle-piece slot to make up the entire affair. Once Sonic finished, Sally stood staring briefly before moving closer and hugging him tightly.

“I’m so sorry Sonic, that you went through all that.”

Accepting the hug, Sonic fought the urge to squeeze her again and nuzzled against her face, unable to help himself. Luckily for him, Sally didn’t see to mind. “I’m just glad you’re alive, that’s all that matters.” Being able to hold her again alone made what he went through worth it alone. “We’ll catch ya’ up to speed. Gonna have lots to do especially as Buttnik’s gone for good.”

A soft smile formed on her beautiful face, as Sally exhaled gently. “I still can scarcely believe it. It-it’s really over isn’t it?” It was like a dream, and she prayed to whatever deity was listening this wasn’t the case. In fact, Sally reached down to her own wrist and pinched the skin under her fur. After a brief flash of pain, followed by a wince. Once nothing seemed to have changed, she let out a sound of relief. “I’m not dreaming am I?” “Not at all,” Sonic replied all smiles. “So the war’s over, we can stop fighting, well mostly.” With a nod and a shrug Sonic quipped. “Minus whatever under-bosses Buttnik left lying around Snotly, yeah we’re good.”

Both enjoy a much-needed chuckle, breaking the hug and just staring at one another. Recalling his earlier despair and regret for not ‘saying’ things to Sally, Sonic swallowed a hard lump in his throat and took her hands into his again. “Sally I gotta say something to you.”

Curious and intrigued, Sally grasped his hands, giving a friendly and assuring squeeze back. “Oh? What is it Sonic?”

It was now or never, he’d thought of this moment often. Of the various lines he could say, maybe even whip out his guitar and sing a rock-ballad; any and every avenue he’d entertained this moment in his brain for some time. Yet now; he couldn’t find any of his prior ideas truly worth their salt in conveying this moment.

So Sonic did what he did best, and improvised. “Sally I love you, I always have and I want you to know that!!” His words came out fast, yet were clear enough to be heard clearly despite the nervous-tick in his tone. Almost as soon as his confession came out, Sonic began to sweat and panic internally. Did he screw up by not being flowery, and all that mushy stuff girls were supposed to like? As this internal panic began to wreak his mind; he almost failed to take notice of Sally’s response.

The Princess’ eyes first went wide as her jaw began slack, staring at Sonic, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Did she hear Sonic correctly? “Say it again Sonic, please.” She begged, her own heart beating loudly in her ears.

Sally’s words snapped Sonic out of his initial panic, and upon seeing those beautiful baby-blues looking at him inquiringly, he nodded as he mustered his courage and confidence. “I love you Sally Acorn, I always have.” Lifting her hands he placed both on his chest, allowing her to feel his widely beating heart. He felt her fingers curl in his chest fur, a sensation that almost distracted him from talking it felt so nice. “I don’t know when, but...I just knew it, we’ve been together since we were in diapers. You’re my best friend and without you in my life, it would suck a lot.” Licking his lips, he fought back any nervous lumps trying to make talking difficult. “I love you, and I need you in my life Sal-I, I thought I lost you and I can’t… I can’t let a day go by without letting you know.”

Sonic again found himself worried he screwed up as Sally’s eyes misted over and Tears began to leak from them. “Sal? D-did I say something-MMMPH?!” Now it was his turn to be interrupted, as Sally pulled him close, her arms now firmly around his neck and her lips over his. Soon Sonic’s eyes slowly close and he returned the kiss; his own arms wrapping around her waist and held her close as their bodies almost seemed to shift and rub together perfectly. Slowly the kiss evolved, becoming much more explicit as each opened their mouths, letting their tongues intertwine as a surging heat-formed between them. Not a sexual one, that was there but not prominently, this was the heat between two hearts that had found their way to one another.

Soon the kiss ended, and both parted, staring at one another as they tried to catch their breath. Sally recovered first, smiling warmly at Sonic as she brought a hand up to cup his cheek. “I love you too Sonic Hedgehog, always since I can remember.” Like him, she kept her words simple, any prior ‘showy’ confession was pushed aside in lieu of simple, direct but heartfelt. “Whatever is coming over the horizon I want to meet it with you at my side.”

“And you mine.” He smiled widely, like her he now had tears of joy in his eye. The two lean forward, resting their foreheads together as they basked at the moment. Robotnik might be gone, but the war was not yet over; and who knows what threats may lay over the next hill or around the bend.

Whatever was to come, they would face it together, now and forever.

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Pairing: Jooheon x f!reader Genre: smut Words: 3.7k Perhaps it is a cataclysmic storm of stress that drives you to this point. Your work not giving you a productive and jovial reprieve as it so usually did, and even then, returning to the apartment is no better. It is a sad and chilled place, all darker, wet shades cast against the cream colored walls. The sky, too, seems to be weeping for your loneliness in bleak disdain Perhaps it is that you simply missed him. Need to be with him to survive.

Perhaps it is a cataclysmic storm of stress that drives you to this point. Your work not giving you a productive and jovial reprieve as it so usually did, and even then, returning to the apartment is no better. It is a sad and chilled place, all darker, wet shades cast against the cream colored walls. The sky, too, seems to be weeping for your loneliness in bleak disdain.

Perhaps it is that you simply missed him. Need to be with him to survive.

It is this thought, on a damp Wednesday evening during your unappetizing dinner alone, sick of silence as your only companion, that makes you to pick up your phone with sure intent and book a flight for the heinous time of early morning, not six hours from now.

You feel jittery at the prospect of seeing him. You know he will try to text you soon to bid you goodnight from half way across the world.

You don’t sleep. Instead, you pack a bag, thankful you were responsible enough to fill the void of time with normal chores like laundry throughout the week. You shower, attempting to relax even a little.

Decidedly, while waiting for the taxi to take you to the airport, you should text him. Maybe... not him? Maybe one of his brothers? You feel like he might enjoy the surprise.

Texting Kihyun is easy and you trust he will keep your secret safe. It’s midday where they are so you know he will get it.

While you’re on the plane, knowingly a long one, you have time to email your boss and explain that you’re taking the remainder of your use or lose leave for the week but that you’ll be available to deal with email traffic as usual. Luckily, your career is one where this poses no problem, but you still hope she isn’t upset with you when your last paragraph explains you’ll be elsewhere in the world for the time being.

Kihyun also responds and holds a conversation with you via text about your impending visit. His excessive use of emojis tells you he is delighted you’re choosing to scheme with him, and assures you that Jooheon never shuts up about how much he misses you, even without asking.

You sleep, or what you will attempt to pass as sleep, on the eleven hour flight. Not many passengers are on this plane as the hour and day are not typical for travelers. The occasional business person but most of them are sleeping soundly. Jitters keep you awake, too aware to let your sense dip into full unconsciousness.

The attendant sees your restlessness and is kind enough to ask you if you might like coffee, having consumed the large cup you brought with you on the plane hours ago. You smile at her gratefully and nod.

Once you land, it’s difficult to keep the anxious vibrations of your being calm enough to hail a taxi without looking like a madwoman.

Scrolling through your phone, a video about Monsta X pops up. About their concert tour dates, and a smile curls your lips happily. A particular image of Jooheon shows across the video during a performance of Alligator.

You know it by the leather pauldron strapped to his shoulder and across his chest and this outfit is one that puts you on your knees for him too quickly. He giggled like a child and blushed deeply when you whispered such thoughts to him the first time you saw him wearing it weeks ago during a visit to the video shooting.

It dawns on you suddenly, forcefully, that he will be looking like a god and you’re wearing leggings and an oversized hooded sweatshirt, one of his in fact, complete with mismatched fruit socks shoved into an old pair of his Nike’s. Your hair is haphazardly piled on your head underneath a baseball cap and you’re not wearing a smear of makeup.

You grimace, unsure if you even remembered to put on more deodorant during the flight, instead shoving your hand haphazardly into your carry on across the seat and shuffling around until you find it.

You send a text to Kihyun, telling him you’re en route on land to their concert venue and he replies with a picture of the venue, circling the staff entrance you need to go through in messy, thick red lines. They’re about to start performing, this you know.

Part of you is sad you’ll be unable to watch even half of the concert, but the rest of you is thankful that you will not have to fight to be overbearingly discreet to get in without fans noticing and thankful that you will not have to wait the full concert duration to see your loving boyfriend.

The venue is booming as your driver pulls toward the entrance, but you roll your window down anyway. Kihyun, ever doting on all of his brothers and their closely kept someone’s, has already taken the liberty of telling the staff and venue security of your arrival via taxi.

Jiyeon, as you know her, greets you in the underground garage, all warm smiles and excitement as you know is her nature. She is the sun, and her tangerine colored tresses bounce in joy as she gestures for you to follow once you’ve paid your driver and thanked him.

It is difficult to hear her through the booming music of the arena, Hyunwoo’s smooth vocals, the lyrics of Dramarama flow through your heart and you scoff to yourself, finding it fitting.

Jiyeon is guiding you to the lounge where you know you’ll see your favorite pair of cats surely luxuriating in comfort on couches or chairs as they await their owners return.

She shows you the door but does not open it. Before she departs, impishly, you ask, “Does he have a dressing room, by chance?”

Her smile warps into one of knowing and she giggles, cooing lewdly enough to make you roll your eyes at her before you succumb to being a giggling mess right along with her.

“Yes, it’s this way.” She gasps after a moment to corral her giggles into a sentence.

It isn’t far from the lounge that you walk, too caught up in the literal buzzing of your very soul in anticipation of him. The marrow in your bones quaking with the straining effort to feel him, somewhere close but not within reach. This feeling makes you tired from the continuous adrenaline surging thunderously through your veins.

It’s been five weeks since you’ve felt his warmth. He has never gone on tour for this long, or at least not without a break where he could fly home for two days.

Memories of his brothers, his members interrupting a facetime call to groan at you about how awful he is during tour because he misses you and is irritable and whiny. Asking you to desperately come and see him during the next tour, Hoseok in particular whining loudly for you to promise not to make him suffer Jooheon’s attitude. You remember agreeing with a laugh and Jooheon’s pout disappearing from his lips in hope from your phone screen.

By the time you reach the door and are left with your thoughts, you don’t notice there is a new song beginning. Upon entering and setting your bag down beside his, you smile. His phone is plugged in, sitting on the table, with your latest selfie softly glowing on the screen while it charges.

Your eyes catch the small television monitor above the door, thinking it’s probably the same feed as the main camera that lights up the projectors on stage.

Something heavy slinks into your gut, as if you’ve finally let the weight of the last 24 hours pull you down into the upholstered swivel chair seated in the center of the small room.

Alligator is playing on the screen, the live feed showcasing Hyungwon and Minhyuk’s pre-chorus lines. The pair are wearing such lucid expressions but their outfits and postures vocalize the danger, gesturing around the choreography before Kihyun takes center for the chorus.

You find the breath in your lungs is not enough, overcome with something visceral as Jooheon now takes center from the back and walking forward. You can feel your body heating with desire for him, molten hot magma pooling in your core, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

Not just at him physically, but because you have him so completely does this feast for your eyes seem cruel because he is not a meal you may consume right in this instant, when the pleasure of his being is so close. His eyes and his voice and his body moving in shapes that instill something alluring and dark.

The words he is spitting, you know do it in for you. Words of increasing tension, danger, having you, always you, in his radar. In his cosmos, his galaxy. Every star a blip on the radar but yours is the biggest and brightest to him, and the only one he cares to explore.

It sets your skin ablaze, and you find the shoes on your feet have to be kicked off, the heat escaping through the soles of your feet bringing you such little relief.

All of the implication of this song, not just their looks, are not helpful. It’s not helpful the way Changkyun thrusts his hips into his own hand during his part. It’s not helpful the way they step closer to the crowd, through a sheer wall of rain to walk on water on the lower stage.

Your head swims, or more aptly, floats at sea while you watch them dance. Splashing around purposefully to get themselves wet.

You have to suppress the groan that claws at your chest as your eyes remain fixed, hooded and unblinking at the monitor.

The ending, which you love too much for your own good yields a whimper from you. On screen, Jooheon is standing on Hoseok’s right, close to the camera and thighs constricted in those devilish leather pants as he dances. An effect on the projector puts the fire behind them and slows their movements so you can see it all over again in the way he twists his body toward the center, all clawed fingers and teeth twisted into a silent snarl before they tuck into the body rolls.

The way Jooheon’s eyes bore into the camera during such an act have you throwing off the baseball cap and adjusting your hair into a tight bun to distract yourself. His hair is a little wet, as if he had showered twenty minutes ago and he is looking at the lens as if he knows you are here and he knows he will consume you completely.

He looks at it with a promise that has you weak in the knees and desperate for him. The emptiness at the center of your being reminding you that he is not here to ignite you, burn you to ashes for some sense of relief. Not in this moment. Not yet.

Not until, as the song ends and the stage grows dark with screams from their fans, your body begins to tremble with the force of anticipating him.

There’s a possibility they may not come completely back stage for the remainder of the show. During such a pause you are flinging yourself from the chair to rummage around in Jooheon’s bag, knowing he keeps a huge container of water there.

You’re swigging it, lukewarm, finding some semblance of  relief to the aching dryness of your throat. The moment you contemplate if he might come back to his dressing room, the door swings open and there he is.

He screams at first, completely startled at having a person in his dressing room which should normally be empty. You feel a collection of emotions at this. First, you try to swallow the mouthful of water without laughing. Second, you feel so light with relief you’re worried you might float away.

It takes him a moment of pouting and whining at being caught so off guard to register his shock, and it fades in the wake of his pure delight at having you here.

“Is it really you?” he asks, playful but needing reassurance that you are in fact, here.

“I missed you.” is all you say in reply, breathless at the cadence of his voice as it invades you.

He closes the distance with a simple stride, pulling you into him all at once and neither of you hesitate to find each others lips.

“I missed you, too.” he says between your lips, his tongue seeking to trace your own. His hands are gripping your waist firmly, bunching at the fabric of the sweatshirt.

When he has had his fill for a moment, needing a drink, he reaches behind you for the canister you set on the counter.

You’re amazed by your own patience at having him here, now, and letting him release your mouth so soon. While he takes his time, watching you watch him, your eyes rove over his throat, bobbing with each swallow. His white shirt, dabbled with water, and down to those foreboding leather pants. Those pants that, true to your words, make you sink to your knees.

“Baby what are you doing?” he gently asks, eyebrow cocked and head tilted, but otherwise fixed with the canteen still perched at his mouth.

You don’t respond verbally. Your hands rise, palms heavy with a warmth Jooheon can feel permeating through the skin of his thighs.

Something in the way you touch him, even such a simple touch, has an intention so powerful he doesn’t have to receive an answer from you to know.

The physical aspect of your relationship has always been a carnivorous, visceral thing, tangible even through simple eye contact and always relentless, knowing full well what the other is thinking and capable of knowing by simply reading the sparks between your bodies.

“Baby, there’s no time.” he whines lowly, leaning over you to set the canteen back on the counter. His hands tell you otherwise, in the way they move to caress your face and his hips remain still for you.  Just now, Changkyun and Hyungwon are being heralded as angels when they enter for their paired stage according to the monitor.

Your whimper of a simple plea is all it takes to break his willpower, hissing through his teeth and taking two steps back to lean against the door.

Immediately, on all fours, you follow, allowing him the three seconds it takes for those pants to be undone. You choke as you pull them down with effort, half way to his knees.

He is already pulling himself out, half hard at the idea of indulging you and the risk associated with this encounter. He knows you don’t care that his skin is slick with sweat. He knows your desired secrets, one of which is how much this turns you on.

You don’t want to waste any time with this, immediately fisting the base of him and welcoming the length of him into your mouth.

Jooheon slaps the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle his whine. You smile around his cock when you hear his choked, breathy iteration of the word ‘fuck’.

His free hand rests at the back of your head, the pads of his fingers gently pushing into the tender flesh of your neck to urge you closer into him.

You give him everything you know he loves. Everything you know will make him fall apart around your pink lips that you know of. Your tongue dances along the vein running along the underside of him, the pad of your thumb ghosting over the space between his cock and his balls.

When you ascend, you suck hardest just around the head, dipping your tongue into him to collect the excretion of his need for you.

Your body is aching for him desperately. You can feel arousal pooling against your clothed core and you whimper at the lack of attention.

You note his thighs are shaking slightly and his breathing is labored. Stuttered, he sucks in gasps as if he is trying to make it last.

Unable to stop yourself, the hand you were bracing against his thigh slips down his leg, your fingers finding yourself, uncaring that it is through the fabric of the leggings that you touch yourself.

The relief is minuscule, but enough to make you whine with a mouth full of his cock. Jooheon moans in reply, his eyes nearly closed as he watches you take him.

When your eyes meet, he is suddenly pulling you off of him and hefting you up off the floor.

“Fuck, baby.” is all he can croak out. You’re confused at why he stopped you until he has already got his fingers beneath the band of your leggings.

“Oh.” comes your breathless voice.

His hands are hot at your hips as he yanks the fabric down your thighs, right along with your panties. Then he is turning you around, gently pressing your shoulder to bend for him. A desperate whine bubbles past your lips when you realize his intention is to have you.

“Can’t I have you like this?” he implores, even though you both know he doesn’t have to. His brow furrows, eyes pulling away from the glistening heat between your thighs to fix you with a stare through the mirror.

You nod, gripping the counter and pushing your hips back. The way your ass is pressed against his lap makes him bite his lip, and he swallows hard.

“Use your words, baby.”

The instant “please” you whine in reply has his cock sinking deep into you with gratification.

You both moan, too caught up in making the most out of this quick interaction to care if others can hear you.

Jooheon’s hands are all over you. Mapping your body and squeezing a breast through the fabric of the oversized hoodie before sinking down to find your clit with ease.

He moans at how wet you are, the sweetest sound to your ears, while he begins rubbing tight circles against you. There is nothing stopping the cry that spills from you, mouth dropping open and body tightening like a bowstring.

Luckily you have been so aroused for the last hour that it takes nearly no time at all before Jooheon is leaning over your body and growling into your shoulder. He doesn’t seem surprised how little it’s taking to bring you to the edge.

“Baby, oh... baby.” his grunts, gasps of encouragement and pleasure seep into your bones like liquid fire and watching the fucked out expression on his face through the mirror has you breaking around him.

You fight to keep your eyes open, crying out against the sleeve of the hoodie. You can vaguely hear him calling you beautiful, so beautiful over and over as he fucks into your core with a desperation you missed.

When his arm circles your waist you know he is about to come. Keeping you tightly secured to him has always been a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm. This time is no different as his thrusts become uncoordinated and he can’t help the clipped, stuttered breaths he doesn’t know he has been holding to stave it off until he releases all of the air in his lungs with one long moan. His hips remain pressed, sweaty, against your ass as you feel the scorching fullness of his release soaking you.

The shallow thrusts he finished with are more of a grind as he nuzzles his face into the hood of your top against your back. You’re both breathing heavily as your eyes flick to the mirror to make contact.

The smile he gives in return melts you. For a brief moment, you relax, basking in the love you share with him.

Until an obnoxious knock on the door bolts you both upright.

Kihyun’s voice is sharp and reprimanding when he speaks from the other side, “I am not even going to pretend like I don’t know what’s going on in there, but you’ve got about fifteen seconds before I knock down this door!”

You smile so impishly at one another before Jooheon is flying, grabbing a tissue to clean himself up and stuffing himself back into his pants. You think he always looks good enough to eat, no matter what.

He leans in close to you as you pluck a few tissues from the box, arm circling your waist and pulling you to him.

With his lips at your temple, “Keep it all in like a good girl and I’ll reward you tonight.” he whispers.

The flush of your cheeks at his words has an adorable laugh splitting his lips into a dimpled grin. He kisses your hair before he lets go to slip out of the door.

You stand there momentarily before pulling your clothes back on, listening to Kihyun berating him from the other side of the door as they hustle away.

Once you’re finished and comfortably lounging in the chair, you realize you have several texts. You’re half watching the performance continue from the monitor while you read through them.

The embarrassment paints itself across your cheeks as you read, realizing that Kihyun was not the only one you guessed heard what you and Jooheon were up to.

A simple set of the eggplant, eyes and water spray emojis in one text from Hoseok followed by a thumbs up emoji made you laugh out loud.

Kihyun’s several texts consisted of mock disappointment about having a little more patience and at least waiting until the concert was over.

Changkyun sent a glittering rainbow sticker that said, 'NICE', followed by a button-mashing of letters, followed by a third text that said in all capitals that he missed you and you had better be staying for a few days and he wanted a hug.

You sighed, resigning to watch the rest of the performance.

Needless to say, the time spent with them, especially Jooheon thereafter, was blissful.