#there is an alternate universe out there where i made this a slow burn but in this universe i hate writing slow burn lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

palajae · 8 months ago

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my name. | nishimura riki

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader

GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WC ▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead.

AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...

wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️

a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.

you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate?

you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his-

the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open. you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default.

it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete.

you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside.

it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible.

you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn.

not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you.

you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world.

that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today.

you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right?

though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”

it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you.

“you okay, y/n?”

you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that?

but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”

they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever.

you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less.

the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore.

the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen.

after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train. although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere.

you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway.

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once.

so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown,

wait a second-

something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?

you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well.

you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you.

you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—

have you met before?

you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform.

a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings.

his only response is a blink.

it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment.

you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it.

“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…”

you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop.

that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.

“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes.

“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”

your mouth drops open.

“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands.

the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively.

“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“

you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-”

again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away.

the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”

his next words make your blood run cold.

“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists.

“who are you? and why do you look just-?”

“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”

you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction.

it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting.

he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense.

his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.”

“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“

“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.”

before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off.

you can call me niki, his words echo in your head.

his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—

you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision.

all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong.

you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t.

to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t.

and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was.

things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on.

following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast.

It wasn’t physically possible.

you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died.

niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.

niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you.

“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes.

“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”

he raises his eyebrows.

“me? explain?”

you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“

“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes.

“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples.

“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”

he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore.

“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you.

the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.

his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.”

you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”

“yeah. are you?”

“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!”

he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.

you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform.

“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”

his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter? that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”

he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.

“obviously not, because that’s dumb.”

you scoff.

“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“

he glances at you and you tense,

“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters.

you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”

there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly.��“i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.”

you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around?

he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.”

the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place. except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in.

“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces.

“i know. there were police here for days.”

you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when?

you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened?

“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth.

soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away.

“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door.

you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books.

you pause, “yearbooks?“

he nods, “yeah, our school’s.”

strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home.

but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page.

“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.

“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...”

you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name,

nish—

he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones-

ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you.

just like niki. you were actually speechless.

eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches.

“no way—”

“—and there’s you.”

it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you.

almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo.

according to niki, this you is dead?

you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on?

the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?”

you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“

he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.”

you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer,

“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”

you don’t know what to say.

could it actually be?

what other explanation could there be?

“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—”

you do air quotations,

“—switch dimensions to another world?”

niki shrugs, “no idea.”

he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”

his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”

you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?”

“what?”

you glance at him questioningly, “what?”

niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”

you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath.

“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”

you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.”

“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.

“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.”

“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation.

“well, it actually happened last thursday.”

you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up?

“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance,

“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.”

at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise.

at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in.

you?

a suicide at school?

what about your family, your friends-

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head. “i… i would never-“

you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”

his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“

unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.

that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-

was just a stranger to him.

yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits.

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression.

“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.

“are you sure that i-i did it?”

you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs,

“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got.

your face hardens.

“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?”

his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.

“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?”

something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.

even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”

despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you.

you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”

he stiffens, “what?”

you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.”

you need to. for yourself.

niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“

“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”

he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”

you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.”

he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him.

“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door

“wait! you’re being serious?!”

his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”

“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.

you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”

he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.

“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”

“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender. annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.

“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”

“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.”

niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe.

“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand,

“miss imposter.”

you take it gladly, harshly. “don’t call me that-“

“my name is y/n y/l/n.”

you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.”

to which you almost punched him.

but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful.

“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.”

“what about clothes and toiletries?”

he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.”

you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here.

a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?”

“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.

“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”

you hold back a laugh at the words.

clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle.

“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?”

“apparently a horrible one,” you snort.

after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation.

“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”

“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow.

you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay, smartass. then how do we get in?”

“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.”

“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him.

the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort.

niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard.

obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness. you wondered if they were staying with other family.

or were they at work? so soon after your death?

you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.

the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.

you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall

you glance down at niki.

“can you make it?”

he scoffs,

“easy.”

it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point.

you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down.

you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”

“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”

“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.

niki’s eyes widen.

“be careful, y/n.”

“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion.

without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you.

your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open.

“you got it?”

“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window.

finally, you can breathe.

it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation.

after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room.

all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you.

a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation.

at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room. not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,

“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”

he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”

“oh.”

the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”

he nods and begins to snoop around.

“wait,” you call out hesitantly.

niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.

“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.”

you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.

you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-

“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face.

you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?

niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen-

wait a second,

your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things?

you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t.

“don’t!”

his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view.

“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows.

“no? am i not supposed-“

“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”

you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.

he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile.

“you can proceed!”

he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one.

you pull out…

a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room?

and even more so, why was it hidden?

niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open.

“a box of chocolates?“

he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”

“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter.

niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance.

“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?”

he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”

you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind.

after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious—

like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different.

just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be.

“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”

niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.”

you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one.

“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.

“what day and time is it, currently?”

“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”

“when does the police station close?”

dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?

luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.

niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“

his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”

you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”

you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“

you grin. “onwards, then.”

“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”

he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”

“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.

he nods.

“illegally?”

he nods again.

you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?”

he shrugs, “probably.”

“good thing i’m not from this world.”

perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.

“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft.

you gulp, “i guess i should.”

you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead.

you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.

“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice.

niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.

“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.

“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”

you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.”

“then what?”

you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.”

you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-

it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-

you squint.

the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-

your thoughts are interrupted by niki.

“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”

he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone.

but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.

“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.

“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests

you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day.

“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”

he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”

you nod, “okay.”

it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead.

were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops?

more like, if anyone cared?

while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

yes, you affirm, you’re alive.

you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts.

but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink.

everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-

a knock on the door makes you jump.

“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“

the door swings open.

you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.

“goodnight, niki.”

you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks,

“night, y/n.”

it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore.

you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights.

in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.

you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.

“niki?” you say quietly.

another shuffle.

“yeah?”

“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”

there’s a pause.

“about you?”

“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”

niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”

you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter.

“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts.

you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face.

the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you.

especially about what you said.

niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.

he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused.

why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it.

meanwhile, you stayed at his home.

thinking.

thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead.

you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously.

you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki.

you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.

however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”

he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”

you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!”

he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further.

“you must’ve been bored without me.”

that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so). sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.”

but you knew he was right and he knew it too.

“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown.

“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…”

“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.”

you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.”

you nod, “that’s good.”

“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”

you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday.

“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”

you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look.

“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?”

niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.”

instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof.

“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step.

“step? as in, my case?

“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”

you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were.

“okay—shoot.”

what was the worse thing he could suggest?

“we should sneak you into school-“

your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?”

niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did.

“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”

“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker?

“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.”

you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.

“fine.”

niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,

“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?

he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“

confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about?

“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket.

you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.

you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly.

“you’re actually being smart...”

his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation.

you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?”

he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…

“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.”

“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly.

niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?”

you falter. “huh? it isn’t?”

he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.”

you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.

“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”

turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice.

niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger.

meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair.

you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him.

on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.

he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms.

instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart.

after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head.

“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.”

please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort.

you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself. “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“

you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways.

“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.

he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.”

he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect.

niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.

with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal?

normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends.

on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive?

“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes.

“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?”

“am i actually loaded in this world?”

niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“

you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know.

“how much are you talking?”

he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“

you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed.

“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.”

you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?”

he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace?

“what?”

you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are?

“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?”

then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?”

you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…”

suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide. panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—

straight into the locker.

your own locker.

you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime?

in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise.

no way. park sunghoon was in this world too?

you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?”

really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out.

“sorry. that was me, pres.”

it was niki’s voice.

you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon.

“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily.

sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.”

niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.”

“alright, see you later.”

you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave.

but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker.

your heart rate picks up. did he notice you?

however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back.

you frown—what was that?

after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms.

“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself.

“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.

“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”

“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.”

“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“

“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off.

you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed.

everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace.

you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”

one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace?

“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.”

you sigh. next time.

it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it.

the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice.

tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis.

niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven.

niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused.

he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“

all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door.

“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“

the door handle begins to turn.

you and niki share a look of panic.

your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath.

“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume.

“nope. just me.”

you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was.

“it was just probably the video i was playing.”

“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her.

you let out an exhale of relief.

“y/n?” you hear soon after.

“under here.”

you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed.

you meet his curious eyes. cute.

“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off.

“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”

“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“

“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it.

“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”

he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp.

you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours.

niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead.

is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat?

niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere.

“so, uh, i had an idea.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”

“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point.

“you got the charger, right?”

niki nods, taking it out of his pocket.

it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end.

when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing.

“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.”

“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.”

you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger.

“okay. now we wait.”

niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”

he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”

you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id.

as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth.

“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”

you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it.

“oh my god.”

“don’t even-“

“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”

you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.”

niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”

you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.”

niki notices the sour expression on your face.

“oh. you don’t like him?”

you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”

you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him.

besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words.

“good to know.”

“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.

but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace?

and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind.

“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully.

“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”

“well, i’ve got a task for you.”

niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public.

he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them.

and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you.

danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”

“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”

haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.”

she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears.

niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it.

you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing.

everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died.

the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone.

you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness.

you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name.

“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side.

his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face.

what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion.

“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind.

“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace.

“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice.

his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world.

he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again.

niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep.

you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before.

somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table.

11 am. niki must be at school still, you note.

you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass?

niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay.

when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk.

went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me.

niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud.

he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day.

he’s scared.

niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure.

he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.

tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected.

you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall.

you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.

niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged.

then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.”

he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.”

you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

“okay,” niki repeats.

it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.

suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain.

the rain doesn’t stop.

and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly.

“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly.

“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.”

“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically.

he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self.

“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”

“but-“

“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.”

you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“

niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”

a challenge was a challenge.

you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun.

“just so you know, i technically won.”

you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“

you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified.

niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”

“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout.

“what do you want to eat?”

“anything. i’m serious.”

niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food.

“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”

you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly.

“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze.

“how’s this one?”

you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.

“i think this one fits you more.”

as he grumbles, you laugh.

“fine, but i get to choose yours.”

he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”

you splutter, “but that means-“

“yes. i’m the princess.”

“obviously,” he adds.

in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow.

“i’ve never done this before, so…"

instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes.

“what now?”

niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”

you’re at a loss for words.

niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”

“o-okay.”

you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.

“hey, this photo came out good!”

“but what happened to the first one?”

you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek.

it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way.

it was something you had never felt before.

“..-y/n?”

“huh?” you snap out of your trance.

“i said, you can keep this copy.”

you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“

“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay.

you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off.

on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.

“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”

“whatever you say, mr. responsible.”

he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.

that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events.

“niki?”

you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”

“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”

“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”

“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”

“what? what do you mean?”

even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you.

“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”

“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.

“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”

niki grimaces.

“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”

“nope. what are they like?”

he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”

“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.”

you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps.

now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking.

your specialty.

niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart.

as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed.

and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers.

that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it.

you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn.

“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”

you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”

“what were you doing on my phone?”

you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you.

“oh, and?”

you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face.

that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone.

you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-

it was so close.

the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night.

he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”

you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?”

he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.

and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.

it was time to confront the truth.

you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted.

this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it.

you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor.

you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it.

and hearts next to sunghoon’s face.

horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth.

during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up?

just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts.

and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar.

he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops.

you sit on the floor next to the lockers with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care.

the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket.

you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been.

“y/n!”

great, now you were hearing things as well?

furious footsteps stomp towards you.

“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”

“n-niki?” your eyes widen.

before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet.

“why would you come to school without me?”

for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?”

he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“

“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“

a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”

you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction.

he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium?

“why are we-“

“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”

after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence.

niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”

you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!”

“you don’t understand,” his voice raises, and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him.

“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”

at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down.

“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter.

you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life,

you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you.

and this was the first time you felt wanted.

you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him.

when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.

without a second thought, niki pushes you.

he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—

straight into the pool.

your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later.

he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago.

you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air.

after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air.

“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”

you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”

he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”

you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.”

“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”

after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part.

growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”

you thank him and he looks around awkwardly.

“what is it?” you squint at him.

“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”

you soften, eyes falling to the floor.

“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.”

you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can.

niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”

“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”

“w-what? but how?”

you shake your head. he goes to hug you.

you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face.

“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.”

niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”

he wonders why you say you and not we.

at that, you falter.

“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.”

niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”

you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.”

it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home.

“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes.

and he looks back at you with pained ones.

niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in.

the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.

it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway.

you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.”

the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were.

you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears.

“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.”

he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.”

if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world.

“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper.

“how will you even get back home?”

you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”

niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”

as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky.

the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket.

you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.

while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”

your body trembles, “i don’t know.”

“then… will i ever see you again?”

you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry.

yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”

niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already.

“this is it,” he says.

but neither of you move.

“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces.

“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.”

you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.

“i promise i’ll find you again.”

he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.

crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one.

you never knew niki’s name.

and then everything fades into nothing.

that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go.

then, you’re gone.

in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together.

all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting.

but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore.

and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers.

you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform.

niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second.

when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there.

he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing.

after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time.

when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved.

and then he’s free.

epilogue...

you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that.

there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy.

ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.

even after graduating, it never left you.

you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in.

they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.

you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”

he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled.

“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize.

“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”

you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.

“me?”

he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile.

“my name is nishimura riki.”

first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!

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just-some-random-blogger · 22 days ago

Text

Tormented Spirit | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ayo i did it again (rambled). i have no idea where i went with this but it really wENT yknow, but hey you get fluff!!!!!. ALSO (im looking at you cristi) if it wasnt clear this is set, like, pre-show T_T just before ep 1 lmao (ily cristi im just going through it with my writing) | cross posted on ao3

tagging: @arabellasleopardcoat

You did not realize being made a spectacle would be as exhausting as it was. Truly, all you did as your prince brought you to the training quarters of the City Watch, was stand, force a smile and feel their gaze upon you as Daemon instructed them to roughhouse for your (but really his) entertainment. Yet, it felt like you had been running nonstop and only now found reprieve.

Perhaps it was because it was really your mind that was running with the thought of how you snubbed your twin. In truth, you knew Gwayne understood your actions, for he was really the only person who understood you, and yet that was precisely why it ate at you so much. How could you do such a thing to your brother?

At some point, Daemon is too distracted by his sparring soldiers to remember you were there. By the time they began to drink, you gave word to one of the guards and made your way back to the Keep yourself.

You head for your brother's chambers, set on setting things straight. You do not find him there however, and your mind begins to wander. Was he avoiding you? Was he cross?

Upon asking one of his servants, you find that he was tasked with duty from the Lord Hand. Part of you feels comforted by the answer, but then you wonder if the task had something to do with you. You try not to think about it as you head back to your own chambers.

You are ripped out of your train of thought when you hear your name called.

Queen Aemma stands across you, hand on her belly, smile on her lips, "have you come to worry on me, good sister?"

Your back straightens and you clasp your hands in front of you, "my queen. I-I-"

"I do hope not," she stretches, leaning back into her hands, "the last thing I want right now is to have yet another person try to tell me what is best for me and my babe."

You shake your head, turning to your feet, "the last thing I would do is impose my inexperience of child bearing upon you."

Aemma's face softens. She's seldom seen someone who looks as though they suffer more than her. "Excellent."

You lift your gaze.

"Come keep me company then and distract me with tales lacking child bearing."

You are taken aback by the invitation and watch the queen slowly waddle back into her quarters. You delay to realize you should be assisting then promptly rush up to her side. You offer her your arm and she gratefully takes it. She is exhausted by the time you reach her bed.

"Thank you," she sighs, wiping the sweat on her temple.

"Of course," you help her put her feet up. You look over your shoulder momentarily, "have you no one to call to? Shall I call for someone?"

"No," she waves you off, "I merely walked out of the room and looked out of the window for a while. I am fine."

You nod and pull away, fidgeting with your fingers, "is there something I might do for you?"

"Yes," she reaches for your arm, "sit."

So you do.

"And tell me, why on earth did Daemon bring you to the City Watch?"

You freeze upon hearing that.

There is a playful curiosity upon Aemma's features, but you no thin think she asks to embarrass you. Still, you open your mouth and begin to stutter, "h-how did you kno-w?"

She chuckles, leaning deeper into her pillow, "oh, my dear," she rubs her belly, "I am privy to all gossip in the Keep. Tis the only activity one such as I can do in my state. Incidentally, had the opposite been true, it is all the servants speak of—" she slowly reaches for you, pushing your hair back.

You are made acutely aware of the marks on your collar again.

"—how the fragile lamb tamed the ferocious dragon."

You chuckle dryly and stare at your lap. You pick at your nails, feeling your throat tighten, "I tame no one, my queen."

As Aemma looks at you, she thinks again she's not laid her eyes upon someone that looks more pained than herself. The sun was already setting, but the marks on your collarbones were still visible. She wonders if you at least enjoyed yourself when you received those marks. "Perhaps not yet."

You chuckle once more.

"He is stubborn and brash, but he is also loyal and passionate."

"Loyal to himself," you turn to her, "with a passion for deviance."

You are unnerved by the sudden call of your name. Your heart races at her misplaced familiarity.

This might be why you blurt out, "I am no fool."

She straightens up, "I did not say you were."

"I know I am feeble in form, but not in mind. I am a mere piece in someone else's game of chess, but every piece has its purpose, even pawns."

Aemma frowns. Her forehead curls, "and pawns can turn into the most powerful piece."

You stare at her belly.

"The Queen."

You do not tell her it is only true in board games.

"Does it frighten you?"

Your eyes quirk up to hers. Her violet eyes are much softer than Daemon's. She does not clarify, but the way in which she rubs her swollen stomach makes it clear to you what she meant. You rub your own as dread pricks through you, "I do not know how it is possible for anyone not to be frightened."

It is her turn to chuckle.

It perturbs you.

"I will not lie to you," she shifts in her spot, "there is no greater pain in the world than becoming a mother, I think..."

It is mortifying to hear, considering you know how many times Queen Aemma has conceived and given birth. How much more painful it must be, as she remains to have one child. You do not think all your years of pain could ever prepare you for such loss.

"... that can be the most gratifying."

You are taken aback when she reaches for your hand. Her palms are soft, just as her expression.

"I do not presume to know you, but I find that whatever pain I have is eclipsed by love I feel for my babe. Still, when the thought of childbirth gets too much, I retreat into something I loved before my babe."

Your brows furrow.

"Tapestries and tea time," she tilts her head, "and Viserys."

You do not know how to feel as she pulls away.

She rubs her forehead, "even speaking is exhausting when you are with child. Forgive me, but I think I would like to go to sleep now."

You shake your head and stand, "there is nothing to be forgiven. I will leave you to your own comforts," you curtsy.

You roam the candlelit halls as you digest the queen's words. You were on your way back to your chambers, then you remember your brother. You promptly head to his room, finding the door open. "Gwayne?"

Emerge two servants carrying a trunk, greeting you before walking off. Your brows furrow as you watch them. You turn back when you hear your name called.

Your twin walks over, still in his doublet and leather shoes. You begin to get nervous, "you're leaving?"

"Preparing to," he says, eyes falling on your collarbones, "the is still the matter of the tourney."

"Tourney?"

"The queen is set to give birth soon— you must not let that man dishonor you so," he quips through clenched teeth, pulling you into his room.

You are dragged inside and he releases you once you're in front of his bed. He grabs his blanket and drapes it on your shoulders. He gathers you hair and pulls it from underneath, "play dumb if you must."

You knit your brows.

"Bat your lashes at him to have your way."

You tighten the blanket around yourself, "I already have."

"To protect me," he tilts his head, "protect yourself, sister. Put yourself first, always."

You clench your jaw.

"He will be kinder if he believes you to be a bimbo."

You scoff, "must I do such a thing?"

Gwayne narrows his eyes, "he is shaming you purposefully out of spite—for me and our father."

The idea makes you queasy because you knew it was true. Your brother was sensible because he got his sense from you, and yet... you find yourself thinking that is it so farfetched for the prince to simply want to show you off proudly? Even in something like this, you were not even being thought of. "And acting a fool will save me from spite?"

He looks at you the way he did whenever you said something stupid. It offends you because it was not a stupid question. He speaks to you, as if you were four, "if he asks you to wear something compromising again, tell him all your dresses are being washed."

You chuckle dryly, "you honestly think he would believe such a blatant lie?"

"He need not have to," he scoffs, "it's not like he'll go through the trouble of inspecting your closet." He places a hand on your arm, "come. I will walk you to your room."

Something unpleasant bubbles up your throat as Gwayne leads you out. As you exit his chambers, you pull away and choke out, "do you think me a fool, devil?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes, "do not be-"

"Do you truly think that I am slowwitted and senseless?"

Your ears ring because of how says your name. You step back when he tries to take your arm again. Gwayne raises a finger and a brow, "I've had a long day. I do not wish to quarrel."

"And I have not?!" you quip, "answer the question!"

He says your name again, firmer, as though you were a petulant child.

"Just fucking tell me!" you snap.

"Gods!" he wipes his face, "you're acting fucking stupid, I'll tell you that!"

You scoff and shove him with all your might. It barely makes him recoil, but you get your point across, especially when you walk away.

Gwayne sighs and calls your name, following after you.

"I hate you!" you spit back, unwilling to turn back as you feel your eyes begin to water.

"I did not mean it," he calls, quickly coming up to your side, "why would you ask me something you clearly know is not-"

"Then why would you reduce me as such?" you stop in your tracks to glare at him.

Gwayne freezes and scowls back, "why do you think I tell you anything?"

"Stupidity will not save me, you fucking idiot," you blurt back, doing your best to hold back your tears.

"It will fucking save you from scheming rats," he grabs your arms and shakes you gently.

You shake your head as tears stream down your cheek.

"H-"

"Do not make me."

He purses his lips.

"You know I will do it if you tell me to," you mutter, "do not make me."

Guilt eats him whole as you weep. It never gets easier. You'd think that he'd be indifferent to it by now, but he knows the great effort you put in withholding your emotions. It hurts him even more, if anything. He sighs in defeat, dropping his head before wiping your cheeks. He attempts to hush you.

You only further fall apart, "I would be remembered as a stupid, dying girl."

He speaks your name, as if to correct you.

"Please don't leave," you mumble weakly.

"Listen to me-"

"No, promise me you won't le-"

"I am heir to Oldtown," he interrupts, "my place can never be at your side."

"So you forsake me now?"

"Listen," he speaks firmly, "you are my twin sister. There is nothing I have not shared with you, and you know this."

You look down for a moment then shake your head, "I wish you kept a few things to yourself..."

Gwayne releases a breath at your words. He leans down to look you in the eye, "says the woman who bares love bites on her neck for all to see."

You shove him away and tighten your arms around yourself, "ass. That's different."

He rolls his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, "how?"

"I did not chose this," you mutter.

His expression falls. He balls his hands into fists, "I would call our house to banner for you."

You scoff, looking away, "don't be ridiculous."

"An affront to my twin is worse than one to myself," he points a finger to the ground.

"I am his wife," you look back to him.

"And I am a man of honor," he proclaims, "if he kills me, then all will know I died protecting my sister from his malice."

"You idiot," you shake your head at him, "do you think the people would believe the words of a prince or a dead man?"

"A princess."

You stare at him.

"With a tender heart," he takes your arm, leading you off.

You take a moment before responding, "you mean a stupid, dying princess."

"You are not dying," he gives you a serious look.

"We are all dying."

He sighs, "a jolly thought."

"I am dying sooner than you howev-"

"No," he interrupts, "you will outlive me. I will die in battle."

You glare at him, "we cannot both be yearning for death, moron."

"I do not yearn no more than you do," he raises a brow.

You stare at him for a moment. He is in denial. You almost tell him that you still pray the same prayer he caught you praying all those nights ago. You do not.

"You will get better, sister," he says, "I simply won't allow you not to."

You look away, "ever imperious."

His expression slips for a moment as he imagines a world without his twin. It is so grotesque, he cannot bear it. He hides behind humor, "you mean charismatic, dashing, and valiant."

"And stupid."

"And incredibly well-spoken, witty, charming-"

"Shut it."

"-attractive, gallant, seemly—"

You bid each other good night with a smile. Neither of you knew how broken your spirits were after your conversation though, and you never will.

Your head lies heavy on your pillow. You are unsure if you are grateful or resentful that you sleep tonight by yourself.

Meanwhile, Daemon is startled awake by the words of his subordinate. He sets his cup of ale down and chuckles in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at one of the three men he had been drinking with, "what?"

The man clarifies, shifting in his seat adjacent his commander, "you've changed since being wed, my prince. For the better."

The prince chuckles yet again, "pray, tell."

Someone else answers for him, "you have been more gracious during drill training."

Daemon's brows quirk.

"And you have been more forgiving as of late," another blurts.

The first who spoke finally says, "you do not drink with us as often as before. This is the first since you've gotten married."

He scoffs and shakes his head, "so. You think I've grown soft?"

The three immediately straighten up and even manage to muster in unison, "no, commander."

Daemon downs his ale and shakes his head, "I'll show you soft."

The next morn, the queen's words repeat in your mind as you awaken. Retreat in what you love. What was it that you loved? You think of Gwayne, but he is set to leave, Alicent, but you do not wish to burden her with your woes... your father...

Oh... your mother. You could retreat in her.

You sit up and rub your face when your servants enter to wake you.

You lose your resolve to light a candle at the temple at when you realized you'd be dying girl retreating to her dead mother. Pathetic.

By the time your servants are helping you fix your hair, you ask them, "if you could do whatever you wanted for a day, what would you do?"

The servants turn to each other then break into giggles. One says, "I would spend a day with my Gwilym."

You watch them in the mirror as they squeal under their breath.

You turn to your nails. You cannot retreat into Daemon.

After they're finished squealing, the other speaks, "mmm. I might go foraging for fruits and flowers."

You lift your head upon hearing that.

"And if I had my pay that day, I'd buy myself some lemon cake."

Your lips part at the idea, "you absolute wit." You turn to her as much as you could as she fixed your hair, "what a brilliant idea."

She chuckles and curtsies, "thank you, milady."

By the time your ward comes, you're already at the door, eager to greet him.

He examines your smile. His brows knit and belly feels uneasy as you take his arm.

You narrow your eyes at his face, doing your best to distinguish who exactly you were face to face with. You forget if it was Arryk with the longer beard or Erryk. You mumble as you make a face, "Erryk?"

"Yes," he nods, feeling stomach rolls, "how are you, my princess?"

You grin, squeezing his steel clad arm as much as you could, "oh, how good of me to get it right. I am glad to have guessed well."

Erryk chuckles under his breath, "you wound me. Am I not set apart in your eyes?"

You stiffen at his expression. You mistake the softness in his eyes for hurt, which is why you release his arm and begin to apologize, "oh, ser. I do not mean to offend, I-"

Erryk raises his hands, "no, my lady. Twas a jest."

Your eyes widen at the clarification. You laugh awkwardly, "ah... apologies."

"Nay," he shakes his head, "I apologize. I do not wish to cause you discomfort."

You huff and give a curt nod, "then," you take his arm again, "I ask that you humor me today, ser Erryk."

His brows furrow. He is intrigued.

"I..." you trail off, gathering your resolve, "wish to go out and pick flowers today." you profess with a soft smile. You raise a finger, "I am am not a fussy passenger. I do not mind sitting in front or behind you on horseback, but I fear I do not know how to control a horse on my own very well," you look away in thought, "we do not have to go very far out of King's Landing, so if it is not possible to get a horse, I will not complain if we walk."

Erryk finds himself smiling as you continue to justify yourself.

"I would not take very long to pick flowers, but if I do," you turn back to him, "I would not refute you if you think we must away."

He nods at your words, "have you broken fast yet?"

You both walk off. You shake your head, "I have not. But I will be quick!"

He shakes his head, "my brother mentioned that you do not like eating alone. If it be agreeable with you, we can break fast together."

You stop in your tracks upon hearing this, "ser Arryk mentioned this?"

Erryk simply nods.

The thought pinches your heart, "it... it was a passing comment. I did not think it noteworthy."

His brows knit at your expression, "do not be so surprised. It is our duty to care for you."

Care for you. You turn to your feet, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. It takes a moment for you to comport yourself, but then you manage turn back at him and smile, "how the gods have blessed me."

His gut reacts to your smile. He releases a breath to calm himself, "we can pick flowers after breaking fast, my princess."

You gasp, "so you agree?!"

Erryk face falls in confusion.

"You would allow me to pick flowers?!" you pull away, nearly jumping up and down in excitement.

"I..." his mouth hangs low, "I do not allow you."

You tilt your head, chuckling in confusion.

"If you instructed me to bring you the moon, I would do my best to claim it for you."

You laugh. You laugh because you miss his sincerity, for it is unfamiliar. You laugh because you only know the kindness of your brother, who cherishes you dearly, yet ridicules you in the same breath. This is why you say, "do not mock me, ser. It is not a crime to enjoy picking flowers."

You expect him to reply the way your twin does: 'I did not say it was a crime,' but you are taken aback by the novelty of his response. Erryk says, "the crime lies with whom would mock such a gentle soul."

You are glad he does not wait for you to respond, because you did not know if you had anything to respond with.

Erryk is silent as you eat in the solar. At first, it was because he second guessed his offer to break fast with you, as it felt so obvious that he was overstepping. But then it was because he was enamored by you and the great many tales you share of eating with your family, picking flowers with your siblings, swimming in rivers with your brother. He did not expect such a temperate outpour from you. He tells himself that he must do all he can to preserve it.

He is selfish in wanting to forfeit a horse. He knows soon enough his brother will come to have his shift, and he wants to keep all your stories to himself; walking will make his time with you longer. At the same time, he fears your body might give in if you were to walk very far, so he settles that you ride on horseback and that he lead your horse on foot.

He is glad of his choice, for had he been on horseback with you, he would not have seen the way your face shone at the sight of the meadow upon reaching it. The moment is quickly fleeting however, and he soon jolts to catch you when you nearly leap off the horse.

Erryk helps you down and is soon forgotten as you run off to gather flowers.

He follows after you with no sense of urgency. He allows you to frolic to your hearts content while he slowly leads the horse towards your general direction.

"ERRYK!" you gasp in horror. It is so sudden, he releases his reins and runs towards you.

"My prin-"

"We do not have a basket!" you slap a hand on your forehead, "I am doomed."

He freezes at your words, debating if that is truly the cause of your distress.

"I am doomed to pick flowers only until my hands are full," you sigh and shake your head. You frown at him and point, "but just over there I see a hundred flowers I wish to bring back home with me."

Erryk's forehead curls but then he realizes you were serious. He finds himself chuckling before sighing in relief.

You scowl, "and you mock me again"

He chuckles louder, placing a hand on his breastplate, "I do not mock! I merely find amusement in such an issue so easily solved."

You scoff, "pray, tell how would you solve my issue, ser knows-a-lot?"

Erryk belly laughs. He shakes his head and offers his hand, "I will hold your flowers for you."

Any trace of offense instantly disappears. You perk and step forward, "oh! I have been blind!"

He tries to take the flowers from you but then he's frozen in place as you suddenly begin tucking in his beard.

"Indeed," you snicker, "blind as a bat."

You are both covered in flowers when you return to the Keep, him more than you, for Erryk's skill in securing flowers in people's hair was not nearly as good as yours. Most of what he had put in your brown hair had fallen when you reached the gates. The rest are threatened off by the wind as he helps you down the horse. His on the other hand—

You chuckle, catching a flower that slipped from your head, placing it by Erryk's ear, "they should call you the knight of flowers, ser."

He bows, "I would be honored to be known as such."

"Oh, gods."

You both turn upon hearing the voice.

Gwayne looks at Erryk as though he was stabbed on the side, then turns to you, "you've victimized the poor man."

You roll your eyes.

"-held him captive and tortured him with pretty things," your twin points a finger as he walks towards you, "no wonder you could not be found. You were doing evil things."

You shove your brother, but he dodges.

He makes a face, "laggardly fellow."

You turn to Erryk then point at your brother, "why do you delay? Seize him at once!"

Gwayne gasps, placing a hand on his chest, "behold: the cruel princess."

Your upper lip curls, "the ugly thing insults your lady," you shoot Erryk a look, "apprehend him!"

Erryk watches the two of you bicker, unsure if he should, in fact, apprehend Ser Gwayne.

When he does not, your brother says again, "behold!" the auburn haired man gestures vaguely, "your cruelty inspires no loyalty from you— aw!"

You snatch your his ear and pull him down. You drag your brother all the way to a crate and force him down, "I'll show you cruel."

"Do not think— AW!" Gwayne clutches his cheek when you slap him.

"Silence or your torture will be more severe," you hiss, promptly placing flowers you still had on hand on his head.

Though Gwayne grumbles the whole time, he makes no attempt to save himself from the proclaimed torture. Very truly, he loathed it so when you made a dolly out of him, but after you sobbed so bitterly when he fled you one instance when you were still children, he could never stomach the thought of attempting such a thing again.

And— he catches the way your lips tug upward, you only ever smiled the way you did now when you were torturing him. Still, he cannot help his scowl when you grin at him to behold your work.

You pinch his cheeks, "my lovely twin."

Gwayne groans and swats your hands away, glaring as he stands, "I abhor you, sister."

You giggle and take his arm, "and I do so love deeply, my brother."

"Unhand me," he says flatly.

"You cannot command a princess, you lowly lord," you snuggle into his arm.

Gwayne turns to Erryk, "retrieve your thing."

Erryk opens his mouth, but then catches the look on your face. He is powerless against your pup-like expression. He clears his throat, "my shift has ended, ser. I will notify my brother at once to see what can be done."

Gwayne's jaw drops.

You throw your head back in a laughter.

He scoffs, turning to you, "how uselessly loyal you've made him."

"What is the meaning of this?"

You three turn. You pull away from your brother upon seeing Daemon. He is covered in dirt, and blood, and anger.

He glares at you, "why is it I find you here twice, wife?" He scrutinizes the flowers on Erryk's beard and hair, then quips harshly as he turns to your brother, "should you not be waiting on me?"

"Why do you think I am here?" you mutter, not missing a beat. You walk over to him, and he tries to intimidate you with his expression.

Gwayne and Erryk are ready to act but then Daemon's face falters when you grab your skirt and try to wipe some of the dirt off his face.

The truth, of course, is that you were not waiting on your husband; him finding you here was simply a coincidence, but the genuine concern that clouds your features makes it the lie indistinguishable.

He is so wholly bewildered by your gentle touch, he is unable to react.

You release your skirt and wipe his cheek with your long sleeve, "I shall have a bath drawn for you." You take his hand, "come, I-"

He pulls out of your grasp.

You expect him to lash out on you. He does not.

"I have a council meeting to attend."

A line forms between your brows when catch the blood on his armor, "but you are hurt."

Daemon is stoic. He stares at the lone flower by your ear, "it is not mine."

You release a soft breath and nod. A gust of wind makes you aware of the bud by your temple. You pull the flower out of your hair and stare at it for a moment. You show it to Daemon, who spares but a moment's glance at it. He involuntarily pulls his head back when you place the flower in his hair.

You are unfazed by the look he gives you. You secure the flower then swipe the dirt on his chin, "I will make sure your bath is finished after your meeting."

It is your turn to be taken aback. You freeze when he catches your wrist before you pull away. "Wait for me," he mumbles.

You raise your brows.

He does not repeat himself.

You nod slowly, "I shall... after having the servants dra-"

"Your princess requires you to accomplish a task for her," Daemon looks past you, looking between Erryk and Gwayne. He grits his teeth, pulling you toward him, "do it."

You look over your shoulder, "please inst-"

"They know what to do, wife," Daemon blocks your vision, "tis I your attentions must be fixed upon."

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godmadeaterribleerror · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Alternate title for this chapter is : “I need him in a way that’s concerning to feminism”. Enjoy!! Chapter Title is from I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me by Fall Out Boy

Word Count: 20.8k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You start to work of Ben's PTSD. Everyone takes a little break. Usual warnings

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, light angst, light smut, pining

Read on A03!

Chapter 8 - Chapter 10

“Ben.” Her voice dragged through Ben’s head, pulling him from a strange, dark peace. “Ben, wake up.”

He groaned, and She started poking him. “Fuck off,” he muttered, unwilling to entertain even the fucking idea of opening his eyes.

“Ben,” Her voice was muffled, and she was squirming against him in a way that made the Thing start to rise into his head. “Ben, you’re really fucking big.”

The Thing was fully awake now, and if She kept moving around like that Ben might have to throw her across the room. The world began to creep into attention, lifting him further from the mindless, perfectly fucking numb state he’d been under as it did. There was light pushing under his eyes, a linen blanket lying across his back, something soft against his face, and Her heartbeat below his.

“I can’t fucking breathe, Ben. If I die from asphyxiation it’s going to mean a lot of paperwork for you.”

Something that wasn’t the mattress, with a lot more lumps and sharp points, was under him. And She was still fucking rolling around against his chest, making it harder to focus on whatever the hell else was going on.

“I’m giving you five seconds before I��m no longer accountable for my actions.” Her voice rolled through him, and he grunted.

This was comfortable. Ben hadn’t been comfortable in far too fucking long. His brain wasn’t alert, the world was undisturbing against his chest, and everything was warm. Really fucking warm. More like hot, actually. Fucking burning.

By the time Ben realized what was happening, it was too late.

“Fuck!” He launched himself upwards, off the bed, away from the furnace beneath him. “Goddamn it, woman! I was sleeping!”

“Sorry!” She was already out of the bed herself, the apology called over her shoulder as she sprinted to the bathroom, door slamming in her wake.

Ben rubbed his chest, the warmth of where She’d burned him already fading. “You don’t sound fucking sorry,” he grumbled, glaring at the door as the toilet flushed.

She opened the door, walking back into the room with her tongue stuck out mockingly. “You were on top of me. You’re not a small guy, Pretty Boy, and I really needed to pee.” “You should’ve just fucking shook me awake-“

“I tried! For like, ten minutes!”

“Could’ve tried harder.” Ben snapped, and She rolled her eyes.

“You were out like a damn baby, Benjamin. It was either I piss on the bed and we both lie in it until your majesty deemed us fit to move, or I wake you up and we don’t have to do laundry a week early.”

She was—as She always fucking was because the universe hated him—right. And by the smug look on her stupid fucking perfect face, she knew it. The Thing was enjoying her pleased little smirk, transfixed on the way she was looking at Ben with small spark of satisfaction in her eyes, and it was making it really fucking difficult to fight with her.

“Next time you need someone to stop you from burning the damn house down, don’t expect me to fucking be there.” Ben’s low words sounded hollow to his own ears, and she just laughed. It was a damn unhelpful reaction, only making the Thing roll around inside him.

“But if I get locked up for arson, who will heat up your chicken tenders and oatmeal for you?” She teased. “Butcher will have to send you an old folks’ home, and it probably won’t be a nice one.”

“I can heat up my own fucking chicken tenders.” Ben scowled, and She giggled.

“How very manly of you.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She hummed, ignoring him. “You can’t do oatmeal, huh?”

“Oatmeal is for orphans, widows, and pussies.”

She smirked. “And old men.”

“I’m not fucking old, Sunshine.” He snapped, and Her smile grew.

“You’re over a hundred. The fact that you’re not on viagra is a straight act of God.”

Ben scoffed, even as the Thing stared roaring to just fucking grab her and wipe that taunting grin off her face as he proved how little fucking help he needed.

“Not an act of any fucking pussy god, brat, just me.” He winked, and the Thing rumbled, pushing against him as Her heart fluttered and she wrinkled her nose.

“Sure, cunt.” She rolled her eyes. “You and all the scientists who thought you’d use immortality for more than just sex.”

Ben shrugged. “You’re benefiting from it.”

“What?” She looked back at him quickly, and her heart picked up in time with the flush of her face.

Feeling his mouth curl into a smirk of his own as Her’s dropped, Ben winked. “If those pussy scientists didn’t make me immortal, I’d be long dead. And there would be nobody to save your ass all the time.”

“Oh,” She blinked, her heart slowing as she tilted her head. “Well. If they didn’t make you immortal, I probably wouldn’t need saving.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

She looked Ben up and down, her face scrunched in the way that he could fucking see her brain moving.

But she only met his eyes, giving him a small smile paired with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

He said Her name firmly, narrowing his eyes, but she just rolled her own and moved to the dresser.

“Go get changed, Ben. And shower, you smell like shit.”

“Sunshine, what the hell were you-“

“Dining room in fifteen. I want to get training done early so we can get started.” She began rummaging through the drawers, a small crease between her eyes.

Ben frowned. “Get started?”

“Yep,” She looked up, giving him a teasing grin. “You made a big mistake, Pretty Boy. You agreed, out loud, to let me work on that fucked up little brain of yours. We’re starting today, before you pussy out.”

“I’m not going to ‘pussy out’.” He grunted. “I’m a man of my fucking word. Which means we don’t have to start right damn now.”

“Maybe.” She pulled out a pair of leggings, bundling them under her arms as she moved to a different drawer. “But we’re going to anyways.”

“Why? No one’s fucking forcing us-”

“I am.” She turned to face Ben fully, crossing her arms against her chest with a glare. “So haul your fucking ass, Benjamin, before I make you.”

“I’d like to see you try, brat.”

She stuck her tongue out at him as her heart stuttered on cue. “Eat me, cunt.”

The Thing went damn feral, coming up with a lot of creative ways to eat her, many involving her tongue and her cunt and his tongue and her tits, and through the lingering haze of sleep Ben was finding painfully fucking hard to ignore its suggestions.

Fucking literally, the Thing taunted, and Ben—through an impressive amount of sheer will—ignored it.

“Sunshine, we just fucking woke up-“

“You just woke up,” she shrugged. “I’ve been up for hours.”

“Hours?” Ben blinked. “What the fuck do you mean hours?”

“Well, you see time is measured in sixty-second increments, which are made into minutes. Those minutes are added up, also in-“

“No, you fucking brat.” He rolled his eyes, fighting the small smile threatening his lips. “You know goddamn well I’m asking-“

“I’d never seen you really sleep, okay?” She muttered. “I didn’t want to stop it just because I had to pee.”

Ben started a Her, probably looking like a slack-jawed pussy as the Thing started to buck around inside him. It wanted to touch her and feel her and hold her and keep her right next to him all the fucking time-

His voice felt like sandpaper as he spoke. “Sunshine-“

She cut him off, pointing sharply at the door. “Nope. Go get changed.” When Ben only stared at her, she gave him a soft smile. “Don’t get soft on me now, Pretty Boy.”

“I’m not fucking soft,” he grunted, the Thing still fucking pushing at him. She let out a small laugh, her whole fucking face so light and happy, and Ben smirked at her. “I could always prove it to you by-“

“Nope, no time.” She gestured at the door again. “Out.”

“No time?” Ben taunted, very quickly deciding that getting changed was now the least important thing in the world. “So after?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, taking a few steps forward with clothes still tucked under her arm to open the door for him. “Out, Ben. Now.”

Ben didn’t move, grinning widely at Her. “We’re having a fucking conversation. Don’t you know it’s not polite-“

He cut himself off as She hurled herself at him, underwear and leggings falling and abandoned on the floor. Ben watched in amusement as she grabbed his arm and started to pull him, only to immediately think better of it and move behind him in an equally vain attempt to push his body towards the door.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what are you made of, bricks?” Ben felt Her slam her full body weight against his back, and grinned widely.

“I’ve been hit by a train and lived, Sunshine. I don’t think you’re going to have any more damn luck than it did.”

She paused, breathing heavily. “Steam engine or bullet train?”

“What the fuck is a bullet train?”

Apparently that was an answer to Her, because she started throwing herself back into Ben, strained noises sounding from behind him. “Goddamn-“ Her knee hit his thigh. “Fucking-“ Elbow into his side. “Bigfoot-“ Head pushing his back. “Ass-“ Two flat palms against his shoulders. “Man-” She paused for a second, catching her breath as Ben laughed. “You’re a dick.”

He chuckled. “I’m aware.” There was suspicious silence from behind him, and Ben turned—a little concerned that She’d passed out—right in time to be hit by the full force of Her body as she took a running start. Her arms wrapped around his torso, face pressed into his chest as she planted her feet firmly into the ground.

Ben didn’t even feel himself fucking stumble, but She was nothing if not dedicated.

“I fucking hate you, stupid fucking V’ed up asshole, built like a fucking mammoth-“ Ben snorted as She descended into bitter muttering, not budging from her hold.

“This is becoming really fucking sad, Sunshine.”

“I’ll show you fucking sad, Ben, I’ll make you fucking cry-“

He said Her name in huffed amusement, rolling his eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m just as immortal as you, you fucking cunt-“ She paused, taking a deep breath through her nose as her brow rested against him. He looked down at her, and She raised her head to meet his gaze.

Her eyes were wide, dilated, and she was breathing heavily through puffed lips. The Thing started to riot inside him, and suddenly Ben was incredibly aware of how Her body was pressed into his, how her hands rested against his back and her chin was perched against his chest. How She was fucking leaning into him and he could feel the speed of her heartbeat, the warmth that radiated from her skin. The image of Her body, still smoking, utterly fucking bare, and just as insufferably perfect as the rest of Her flashed in his head, making the Thing start to bellow. Her hair was pressed against her forehead by sweat, and he wanted to run his hands through it. He wanted to move his hands to where Her neck was craning up a him, and pull her closer-

“That’s enough,” Ben grunted, and as he pulled Her off of his body she made a little yelp that the growing strain in his pants really fucking enjoyed.

“Ben-“ She let little gasp as he tossed her back onto the bed, and the Thing fucking whined like a fucking pussy. “What the fuck-“

Turning roughly, Ben stomped to the door, picked up Her clothes from the floor, and threw them to her side. Ignoring the Thing scrapping against him to stay—because just fucking look at her, so fucking perfect, sitting on the bed with pretty eyes and soft lips and she just made another little sound when she caught the clothes—Ben forced himself to walk in controlled and even steps down the hall to his room. He closed the door firmly but without a slam, locked it like any fucker who was about to get changed probably would, and fucking caved.

The Thing was getting a lot more fucking specific about its fantasies. Before it had been flashes of images, blurry hypotheticals. Now, as Ben threw his pants to some unimportant corners of the room and chased some sort of goddamn relief in his hand, everything was clear.

She was pressed against him again, looking up at him with blown out pupils and her mouth just barely open. This time he let his hand move up, holding the back of her neck as his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her so tightly against his body she might as well be just another part of him. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, and She opened for him. Easily, like she’d done it a thousand times before. His tongue moved into her mouth and she fucking moaned, hands gripping his shirt in fists as she tried to tug him impossibly closer. He dropped the hand at her hips lower, pressing his palm against her ass before dragging it forward to rest right between her thighs.

She whined, starting to grind against him, and he pulled back, smirking down at her as she moved to frantically pull the front of his shirt, trying to bring his mouth back to hers. He just moved to cup her jaw, running his thumb over her swollen lower lip.

“Ben,” she whimpered, breath heavy against his fingers as her hand gripped his wrist against her center, trying to make him move.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine? Need something?”

“You fucking dick-“

“You want my fucking dick, don’t you?” She moaned, head falling forward into his chest. “Tell me you want my fucking dick, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ben,” she keened again. “You cunt-“

“Your cunt, brat. That’s what we’re talking about.” She fucking whined again, and he chuckled. “You know what you have to do if you want this.”

“Fuck-“ She let out a small, desperate sound. “Fuck you-“

“You will. All you have to say is-“

“Please! Ben, please. Please fuck me, you fucking asshole-“

Ben felt the metal taste of blood in his mouth, and realized not only had he covered the whole room in white, he’d bitten clean through his tongue as he came. By the time he had changed and cleaned his room—he was getting really fucking efficient—it had almost entirely healed, and Ben decided to just fucking hope She wouldn’t notice any lisp or slur in his words.

He should’ve fucking know a lot damn better by now.

When Ben entered the dining room, She was sitting cross-legged on one of the long abandoned chairs, holding a completely destroyed apple in one hand and her phone in the other. Her gaze was sharp as her eyes moved across the screen, a small frown on Her face. It took Ben clearing his throat loudly for Her to look up at him, and the Thing tensed at the drawn caution still lingering on her face.

“Took you long enough.” She paused, and her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t shower.”

“You don’t fucking know that-“

“Your hair is dry.” She said flatly.

“Maybe I just don’t want to shower two goddamn times in one morning?” Ben snapped. “You think of that, smartass?”

He’d expected Her to glare at him, or bite back with her usual snark, but her head only tilted at him, brow furrowing. “What happened to your voice?”

“What are you talking about,” Ben snapped, cursing himself for not just waiting the one extra fucking minute for his tongue to heal.

“Your words sound weird. Open your mouth.” She took a step closer, eyeing his mouth as if she expected a fucking snake to jump out of it and turning the apple core over in her hands.

“I’m not going to fucking ‘open my mouth’, Sunshine.” Ben angled his chin higher, trying to hide his tongue as he spoke.

“Why?” She glared at him. “Got something to hide?”

Just a few more damn seconds. “I don’t have to do everything you fucking tell me to, brat.”

Heart-flutter. Scowl. Her arms crossing in front of her. “Are you pleading the fucking fifth, Ben?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, because I’m not damn guilty of any fucking shit.”

“That’s not how the fifth works.”

“Yes, it fucking is.” Ben turned his face down fully, feeling his tongue healed completely. “And I’m not hiding anything. My voice is fucking normal.”

She blinked, a surprised frown flashing across Her features. “You’re fucking impossible,” she mumbled, and Ben winked at Her.

“Can I hear an apology-“ Ben was cut off by the apple core hitting him square in the fucking face.

“No.” She looked him up and down. “It’s not my fault you were being weird.” She met his eyes again, a smirk playing on her lips. “And you were wrong about the fifth. Which is shocking given you were alive when it was written.”

He glared at her. “You know goddamn well I wasn’t.”

“Do I?” She said, fake innocence coating her voice as she gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You’d bet money on that Pretty Boy?”

“You think you’re fucking funny, huh?”

“I’m a goddamn riot.” She moved to her defensive stance. “And I’m going to fucking kick your ass for whatever it is you’re hiding.”

Ben scoffed. “I’m not hiding anything, Sunshine.” He reached his arm out. “You can always just fucking check for yourself.”

“I can’t read minds, Ben. Unless you’re feeling guilty, doing that won’t help me at fucking all.”

“I’ve never felt guilty in my goddamn life.” The Thing started spinning around in Ben’s chest, tight against him. Suddenly Her touching him felt like a bad fucking idea.

“Yeah,” She rolled her eyes. “I fucking know. It’s an issue.”

He frowned. “I get shit done, Sunshine. I said I won’t fucking apologize for doing my goddamn job-“

“Not asking you to. That’s a battle I know I won’t win.” She said, flexing her fists. “Now let me beat you to a pulp, Ben.”

“You’re real mouthy this morning, brat.” He sneered, and She glared up at him. “You really think you’re laying one fucking hand on me?”

“Oh,” she gave a dry laugh. “This is going be so goddamn cathartic, cunt, you have no fucking idea.”

Ben decided he had at least some fucking idea, because the first punch She threw landed square across the jaw, and the second slammed right into his gut. It didn’t hurt, he barely even felt it, but the crazed focus in Her eyes, the fact that he could hear the grinding of her teeth, and the way Her heart had taken on a heavy and uncontrolled rhythm was telling him at least a little about what She was feeling.

“Christ on a fucking cross,” Ben grunted as her fifth punch connected with his nose. “I thought we weren’t fighting anymore.”

“We’re not,” she grunted, kicking his chest.

“Sure feels like we goddamn are.” He managed to block her fist from his neck, and She stumbled slightly. “If you’re still mad at me, just fucking tell me.”

“I’m not,” She snapped, and Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m fucking not!”

“Don’t lie to me, Sunshine, you’re better than that.”

“Oh piss off,” She scowled, and Ben didn’t like the shadow that flitted across her face. “I’m not fucking mad at you, I’m just stressed, ok?”

“About what?” Ben frowned, dodging another punch. The Thing started to scrape at him again, desperate to reach out and smooth the crease in Her brow. “Nothing’s fucking happening.”

She just grunted, not meeting his eyes. This time, when her fist flew to his face, Ben grabbed it, holding it firmly as he glared down at Her.

“What’s wrong with you.” He demanded, and She just blinked, looking between his glower and his hold on her hand.

“Nothing,” She said, though her voice wavered, and the Thing started rising to Ben’s throat.

“Liar.” He lowered his hand, pulling Her arm with him. “What’s wrong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s fucking wrong, Benjamin. I don’t need a single reason to be stressed, everything about our lives is fucking nightmare.”

“You’re being sloppy.” He watched Her carefully, listening for any change in her heart. “Our lives are nightmares every goddamn day. You’re never fucking sloppy.”

“I’m not sloppy, Pretty Boy.” She sneered. “I’ve landed almost every fucking punch.”

“In poor form.” Ben countered, not wavering. Something was fucking wrong with Her. The Thing was so damn loud in him, it needed to know, it need to make it better, make Her smile or laugh and just look less fucking tense. “If you’re still pissed at me, fucking spit it out.”

“Not everything is fucking about you, Ben!” She spat, trying to pry Her fist from his. “I’m just fucking stressed!”

“There’s nothing-“

“Are you stupid, or insane? Of course there’s shit to be stressed about! You met with Homelander and you didn’t even tell me what happened! We keep fucking fighting about stupid shit and I’m tired! We keep saying we won’t keep secrets but we both know we’re lying! Butcher is apparently watching us on cameras, and being just a fucking dick about-“ She took a deep, strained breath. “I just want to fucking have some sort of goddamn control over my fucking life, and sometimes that means punching someone I-“ She took a ragged breath. “I know can take it. Is that too much to fucking ask?”

He felt Her hand grow slack in his, her eyes growing cloudy. The Thing was pushing into him, and Ben wasn’t fucking strong enough to fight it. Not when She looked so goddamn exhausted, still somehow fucking perfect, and hollow in a way that made the Thing bloodthirsty.

He pulled Her hand forward, and as she stumbled into his chest, a small gasp escaping her, Ben wrapped his arms around her back and shoulders. He held Her tight against him, stroking her hair until her breathing steadied, and her body relaxed against his. Once it had, Her head resting against his chest and her heartbeat moving in time with his own, Ben pulled back slightly to look down at Her.

Fucking perfect.

“Go shower,” he said Her name firmly, and she blinked at him in surprise.

“But-“

“We don’t have to go for two hours every damn day, Sunshine. You’re going to go shower, we’re going to sit on the couch, and you’re going to get your fucking show on the road.”

“My show?” She frowned. “Do you mean-“

“The shell shock.” Ben grunted. “You’re going to try your little magic trick, I’ll tell you about the meeting, and we won’t fight.”

She sighed, watching him sadly. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Ben tightened his grip on her body. “I fucking swear on it.”

For a long second, it looks like She might push him on it. Ben fucking meant it, they weren’t going to fight, even if it meant talking about stupid, vapid shit for the entire afternoon. She looked too goddamn exhausted, it would be like kicking a puppy. A perfect, sad, exhausted puppy that got on his every fucking nerve, but he would bite his tongue for. Part of Ben just wanted to pick Her up, carry her to bed, and hold her until she slept off the strain and anguish on Her face.

“Promise?” She breathed, and Ben didn’t feel any hesitation as he responded.

“Promise.”

She nodded slowly, and pried herself from his grip. “You better shower as well. I meant it when I said you smelled like shit.”

Ben snorted. “You’re not much better, Sunshine.” It was a fucking lie, she smelled like flower shampoo and salt and smoke, but the small smile on Her lips was more than worth the taunt.

“Don’t make me force you to bathe, because I’ll fucking do it. Don’t test me.”

“I’m sure you will,” he muttered under his breath, trailing after Her as they moved up the stairs. She laughed, looking over Her shoulder at him with a wide, perfect smile covering Her face, and the Thing ached.

“See you in thirty, Ben.” She closed the door behind Her, and he was left in the hallway alone.

Ben did shower. Not because She fucking told him to, or because he realized she was right—he smelled like sweat and charcoal and grime—but because he had thirty minutes to kill and nothing to do except shower.

It didn’t fucking hurt that he got to imagine Her in the shower with him, that same perfect smile on Her face as the Thing created an image of her kneeling before him. Of Her mouth around him, of Ben’s hand in her hair as it had been only minutes ago, of Her moans running through his body as he thrusted his cock between her lips.

This time, it was a lot easier to clean up after himself.

She was already on the couch when he got back downstairs, hair damp and knees folded into Her chest as she tapped on her phone. Ben dropped down at Her side, and nudged her shoulder.

“Feeling better, brat?”

She stuck her tongue out as she dropped Her phone into her lap, and the Thing rumbled. “I’m gonna heal your brain so fucking hard, cunt, you won’t know what hit you.”

“Or nothing will happen, because I’m not a fucking shell shocked pussy, and the world’s going to owe me a big fucking apology.”

“You still don’t think you have PTSD?” She frowned.

“No, because I fucking don’t.”

“Why are you letting me do this, then?”

Ben shrugged. “Who am I to deprive you of a chance to touch me?”

She scoffed, face flushing slightly. “We touch all the time, Ben. Try again.”

The Thing was loud in his ears, both grumbling about how She was right—they did touch all the time—but it still wasn’t fucking enough, and trying to grab his tongue and force the words because you said I couldn’t fix you if you couldn’t fix me, and if you had kept fucking screaming and crying and breaking right in front of me it might have fucking killed me.

The Thing needed to shut the hell up.

“You wanted some control, Sunshine. Here it is.” When She didn’t look entirely convinced at his words, Ben leaned down to hold Her gaze at eye level and said Her name firmly. “No fighting, remember?”

She narrowed her eyes, and nodded. “Fine. You’re telling me about the meeting, though. No fucking take backs.”

“Deal.” He said, a smile pulling at his mouth. “What do you-“

He cut himself off as She reached up, dropping one leg down to carpet as she folded the other beneath her, and placed her hands against his head. The Thing made a lot of satisfied sounds, and Ben had to bite down a groan and Her fingers tangled slightly in his hair.

“What the hell are you doing.” His voice was strained, a lot of fucking effort going into ignoring how She’d pulled him down further, so that her face was practically inches from his.

She wasn’t even fucking looking a him as she answered, attention trained on where she held him. “Can’t touch your brain. This is the closest I can get.”

“Should I be fucking feeling something?”

“Dunno,” She shrugged. “Never done this to myself, dummy.”

Ben grunted, and watched Her nose start to wrinkle, brows drawing into concentration. She somehow looked more perfect than before, when he could see glimpses of Her teeth as she chewed her lower lip, could look at every small movement of her eyes, could feel Her hot breath fan across his face. “Have you started-“

“Yeah.” She glanced down to meet his gaze, and something hot flashed across her face. “You can talk whenever.”

“Does it feel like anything?”

She shook her head, but Ben heard her foot start to tap on the carpet. “Do you feel anything?”

“No.”

Her eyes ran across his face, searching for something Ben didn’t have a clue about. She seemed to find Her answer though, and her focus returned to his forehead. “The meeting?” She prompted, and Ben sighed.

“What do you want to know?”

“All of it.” Her voice was firm. “Start from when you left, end when you got back.”

Ben frowned. “We took the van.”

“I figured.” She snarked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to hear about it or not?” She shot him a quick glare, and he continued. “The French Prick had gas. Fucking mustard and sleeping gas with agent orange.”

“Agent orange is illegal, it hasn’t been in production since, like, the 70s.” She said, and Ben scoffed.

“Asshole made his own. Carried it fucking everywhere like a pussy.”

She let out a huff of amusement. “Of course he did. You’re a scary guy.”

“I know.” He muttered, and something pulled at his lungs. Before he could think better of it, he was asking, “You scared of me, Sunshine?”

“Me?” She still didn’t look back at him, and Ben couldn’t fucking stand the seconds before she answered. “No.” She said it as if it was fucking obvious, and Ben wanted to know more, the Thing needed to know more, but before he could demand it She was looking into his eyes. “What else?”

“We went to the FSIB.” She frowned, and Ben knew his guess had been wrong. “Supe Bureau.” He said, before she could ask.

“Ah,” a small smile crossed her lips, gaze leaving his once more. “FBSA.”

“Sure, that.” He muttered, raising his voice after to continue. “Sage and Homelander were there,” Her grip on his head tightened slightly, and he had to fight the Thing trying to reach for Her. “Neuman too.” She opened her mouth, and Ben rolled his eyes. “Neuman as well. Butcher was pissed about it.”

She snorted. “Butcher’s always pissed about something. What did they want?”

“To know our plans. Sage fucking asked outright what they were.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. Goddamn waste of time.”

“Hm.” She shook her head slightly, lips drawing in as she chewed at them. “You said Sage asked?”

Ben nodded. “Specifically about us. What Butcher was intending to use us for.”

“Sage asked that?” She glanced down at him again, frowning. “That sounds like something Homelander would ask, not Sage.”

“Maybe that pussy made her ask for him.”

She shook her head, voice slightly quieter. “Even if that’s true, Sage would have to see benefit in it. I don’t trust her to just give in to Homelander over something so plainly stupid. There’s something else. What-” She swallowed slightly, and Ben’s attention caught on the bob of Her throat. “What else was discussed?”

Feeling that She already knew the answer, Ben watched her carefully as he spoke. “You. A lot about you. Sage said you were a liability, which is fucking bullshit, and Homelander whined like a fucking pussy about you leaving him, about the food, about the V shot that didn’t take and how you wasted it, offered to trade you for Ryan-“

“He what?” Her eyes darted down, voice high.

“Asshole said he’d be willing to give Butcher his wife’s brat if Butcher gave you over.” Ben heard Her heart stumble. “We didn’t damn agree to it, Sunshine. If Butcher had even fucking considered it I’d have thrown him out the window.”

“But he offered it? To Butcher?”

Ben said Her name slowly. “I don’t think Butcher took it fucking seriously. Even that pussy knows Homelander would’ve just fucking taken you and kept Ryan.” He frowned as She nodded, blinking nervously before looking back up. “Sunshine.”

“Hm?” Her grip tightened again.

“You’re hiding something.”

“No, I’m not.” Her words were clipped, and Ben scoffed.

“Yes, you fucking are. Are you really fucking worried that Butcher will take his offer? Because I was being fucking serious-”

“I’m not worried about the offer, Ben. I promise.”

Ben examined Her face. She was still looking intently at his forehead, but Her heart was controlled with her breathing again, and the tapping was gone. “Are you upset about the kid? Brian?”

“Ryan,” she corrected. “And no. He’s going to be fine.”

“Because of your plan.”

“Because of my plan.”

Ben said her name slowly. “What is your fucking plan?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s something fucking stupid, isn’t it.”

She frowned. “No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.” He glared at Her perfect face, trying to find any sort of tell for whatever insane thing was running through Her goddamn head.

“Fuck off, Benjamin. How the hell would you know if it’s stupid.”

He glared at Her. “Because all your plans are fucking stupid and insane.”

“And they all fucking work, Pretty Boy.” Her voice was smug. “You’ve said so yourself.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re not goddamn terrible. All of them involve you throwing yourself in front of a train and just fucking hoping you survive.”

“Only one of us has thrown themselves in front of a train, cunt, and it’s not me.”

“A fucking metaphorical train, brat. And I know your plan is fucking stupid because you and Butcher don’t seem too concerned about how it might not work.”

She rolled her eyes. “If anything that’s a sign that it’s an amazing plan.”

“No, it means it’s fucking insane and probably going to blow up in your fucking face.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m being fucking serious, Sunshine.” Ben reached, grabbing one of Her wrists. “If you’re planning something insane, you need to fucking tell me.”

She glowered at him, her words firm. “Good thing it’s not insane.”

“Then just tell me the damn plan.”

“No.”

“I’m trying to help you, brat.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Fucking hell,” Ben snapped Her name. “Can you just trust me about one goddamn thing-“

“No fighting, Ben.” She cut him off, voice rising. “And I’m not telling you, not because I don’t trust you, or because it’s stupid and insane.” She was talking faster and faster, with less breaths between words. “I’m not telling you because nobody knows but Butcher and I, and it needs to stay that way because it’s really fucking precarious, and it needs to go perfectly because if it doesn’t you won’t get the fucking shot at Homelander and this will have been for fucking nothing because you’ll go back under-“ Her grip was like iron around his head. “And we fucking promised we wouldn’t let each other go back so I can’t-“

Ben yanked Her hands from his head just before they began to smoke. “Sunshine-“

“I can’t, I can’t tell you, I fucking can’t-“

He raised his voice using Her name as he grabbed her face in his hands. “Fucking breathe.”

She stared at him, her own hands flying up to his arms.

He repeated himself, lowering his volume, but keeping his words forceful. “Breathe.”

She nodded slowly, and Ben watched Her chest rise and fall, slowing in speed as her heart steadied. She was still watching him, eyes wide and lips parted, and Ben was suddenly incredibly fucking aware of how close they were. Closer than before. Her hands were still warm around him, keeping his hold on her face firm, a hold that had his fingers tangled in her hair and his thumbs so fucking close to her mouth. Her knee was pushed against his hips, dangerously close to the tightness in his pants, and he could fucking swear Her eyes had just fallen to his lips, her tongue running over her own-

Something buzzed, and Her head dropped down as she moved one hand to grab Her phone.

“It’s Hughie.” Her brow wrinkled as she read the screen.

“Cocksucker?”

“Hughie.” She corrected without missing a beat. “He says Annie is about to call, and not to say no to her, because it’ll be his ass if I do and she’s been trying to do this for a month.”

On perfect fucking cue, the phone started buzzing again, displaying a grainy photo what looked to be Starlight gloating over the French Prick’s body. Ben tried to read the words, which was harder than usual given that they were upside down, but his attention was pulled back to Her as she poked his leg with Her foot.

“Ben, I need to answer.” When he just raised his brows at Her—about to ask why the hell she was telling him instead of just fucking doing it—she looked pointedly at his hands, which were still gripping Her face.

He rolled his eyes, but released her.

“Thanks,” She mumbled, raising the phone to her ear. “What’s wrong, Annie?”

Ben kept his face passive as he listened to Starlight’s voice, muffled through the static of the phone. “We’re going out.”

She raised Her brows, frowning at Ben as she spoke. “What?”

“We need a break,” Starlight’s voice was firm. “So we’re going out.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Everyone. You, me, Hughie, Frenchie, Kimiko, MM, Butcher even if I have to physically drag him, and Soldier Boy because we can’t leave him alone.”

Ben scowled, and She rolled her eyes at him, giving him a glare of I know you’re listening Ben, but she doesn’t, so keep fucking quiet.

“Is this part of a plan?” She asked carefully. “Like a club full of supes that might have information-“

“No,” Starlight said Her name with a sigh. “We’re just going out, because if we don’t let off some steam we might explode.”

“Why do Ben and I have to come?” She said, and Ben could hear the gnawing of Her lip. “I mean, he’s still a fugitive, and everyone is going to think he’s kidnapped me-“

“Frenchie’s taking care of it.”

“Annie,” Her voice was flat. “I have no interest in going anywhere sponsored or endorsed by Frenchie.”

“Please,” Starlight said Her name in a desperate tone. “It’ll be safe, I promise. We all need this, and that includes you.”

“You don’t want me there, Annie.” The plain, factual way She says the words makes the Thing want to snap every member of Her team in half. “I might blow, it’s really not safe-“

“It’ll be fine, I promise.”

She sighed, and Ben could fucking visably see will begin to crumble “Annie, I don’t even have anything to wear-“

“Are your measurements the same from when we found you?”

“I mean, yeah, but-“

“I’ll buy you something this afternoon.”

“This after- Annie are we going today?”

“Yep. We’ll pick you up in a few hours.”

“Hours?” Her eyes were wide. “A few fucking hours?”

“Like three or four.”

“Annie-“

“See you then!” The hum of the line went dead, and She looked up at Ben with wide eyes.

“You heard her, right?”

Ben frowned. “You didn’t tell her to get me clothes.”

She blinked at him. “That’s what you’re worried about? What are you going to wear?”

He shrugged. “I mean, there’s not fucking much else to worry about-“

“What about the fact that you are a wanted criminal? Or that I am technically your hostage?”

“Starlight said the French Prick would take care of it.”

“Ben-“

“The lady is right, Sunshine.” He said firmly. “You need a break. I need a break. She sounded like she needed a break.”

“But-“

Ben said Her name, nudging her leg with his own. “Even Butcher is going,” his tone was teasing, trying to pull the goddamn worry from Her face. “Are going to be more of a stick in the mud than fucking Butcher?”

She scowled. “I’m not a stick in the mud.”

He gave her a cocky grin. “Prove it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. No anger, no stress, just pure focus on his challenge. “Prove it?”

“Fucking prove it. Let go. Have some fun for once in your damn life.”

“I’ve had fun. I’ve had a shit ton of fun.” Her lips were slightly pouted. And so fucking close.

“Like I said, brat. Prove it.”

She stood abruptly, and the Thing start fucking pussying about inside Ben that Her body was gone. She moved around the couch, marching to the stairs, before pausing to look back at Ben once.

“I’m going have so much fucking fun, Pretty Boy. It’s going to blow your fucking mind.”

————

The thing about living in a CIA safe-house to babysit an allegedly dead hundred-year-old man—who you entirely and incorrectly anticipated hating with every fiber of your being for the duration of your time together—was that you didn’t spend a lot of time trying to look nice. Not for yourself, and certainly not for anyone else.

Every member of your team had fully supported this blatant lack of effort. You brushed your teeth, showered, and combed out your hair enough that MM wouldn’t start yelling at you about basic hygiene, but nobody was about to start telling you that self-presentation was important to self-respect. You, like all of them, didn’t have the luxury of self-respect. You hardly had the luxury of respect.

It was because of this that—looking back on it—hindsight was indeed a powerful thing. Hindsight would’ve been unbelievably helpful when Mallory’s bi-weekly grocery delivery had come a few nights ago, delivered with a grotesquely large box of makeup and hair products from Annie. You’d moved them into your bathroom—thankful that Ben was taking one of his long showers after training and wasn’t going to barge in asking questions—and read the note buried between hairspray and color corrector.

For later! I wasn’t sure what colors you liked, so I got all of them. - Annie.

A little heart had been drawn next to her name, and looking back at the box you realized she had, as promised, gotten all of them. The box was filled with a rainbow fortune of lipsticks, glosses, eyeshadow palettes, mascaras, liners—liquid, pencil and gel—highlighters, blushes, bronzers, contours, and at least at least twenty foundations and concealer in what you imagined was Annie’s best guess of your shade. That wasn’t even touching the sprays and gels and body glitter.

You’d thought she’d lost it. Or gotten sick of her blood money from Vought and decided to buy you an entire makeup store. You’d pulled out your phone, found Annie January: Arm Wrestling Champion, and been about to call her and ask if she was ok and what “for later” could have possibly meant when Ben had started banging on your door. You’d left your phone in the bathroom, shoving the box under the sink, and ran to answer him. You don’t really remember most of the conversation, because Ben’s hair had been damp and looked soft and you’d wanted to touch it, there had been ice cream stuck to his lower lip and you’d wanted to lick it, and the Feeling had been incredibly focus on the slight rasp in his voice but apparently not enough to really hear him. You remember how it had ended though. You putting away the groceries as Ben watched unhelpfully at the doorway, save for a whole tub of malt vanilla ice cream that Ben had decided was too close to melting and felt personally responsible to take matters into his own hands. You’d told him it had been out for less than an hour, and if it was really about his commitment to lowering food waste he wouldn’t have let the caramel ice cream just die like he had. He’d said caramel was a shitty flavor for pussies and the senile, you’d told him that malt vanilla wasn’t really the ice cream of the youth either, he’d called you “brat” again, and Annie’s box of insanity had been completely forgotten.

Hughie’s text had said that Annie had been planning this for a month. If it wasn’t for the box, you’d have thought she was being blackmailed, tricked, or at the very least mind-controlled. Annie wasn’t someone who “went out”, let alone enlisted Frenchie for aid in finding terrorist-appropriate nightlife. You stared at the box as you pulled it out from under the sink—it was more daunting than you remembered—unsure if you should just fully lean into Ben’s prove you’re not a stick in the mud challenge, or be genuinely concerned for Annie and her sudden personality switch. The Feeling was in strong favor of the first option, replaying every single second on the couch over and over, reminding you that Ben had never seen you actually try to have fun—or at least what he considered fun—and maybe if you proved you could he’d touch your face again. Maybe he’d look at you with that hungry glint in his eyes and actually mean it the way the Feeling wanted him to.

He’d lose his mind. The Feeling protested. You’d prove you’re not a stick in the mud, and as a fun reward you’d get to see him lose his mind.

It was that exact train of thought that made you choose the second option, even as the Feeling whined about it.

You pulled out your phone—pushing the Feeling deep into the back of your head where it couldn’t influence your decisions—and forced yourself to call Hughie.

“What’s up?” Hughie sounded tired, more tired than normal.

“Is Annie okay?” You dove into the question headfirst, the words pushing the Feeling back further. This wasn’t about Ben, and how the Feeling hated the idea that he saw you as boring. This was about Annie, and if you needed to be worried about her.

“Yeah, um, I mean-“ Hughie stumbled over his words, and you could practically see the anxiety on his face. “She’s fine. Good. She’s good. Everything is fine and she’s good-“

“Hughie.” You said firmly. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I, uh, I didn’t say you were-“

“Do I need to be worried? Because you know just well, scratch that, you know better than I do that ‘going out’ is not regular Annie behavior.”

“I mean, it could be. Maybe it wasn’t regular Starlight behavior but it is regular Annie behavior. We don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re not good at it.”

Hughie mumbled your name. “It’s really not that much to be worried about.”

“Okay.” You sigh, glancing involuntarily towards the door to make sure Ben hasn’t suddenly appeared to ruin your bluff. “Then I guess it’s ok if Ben and I don’t go.”

“No!” You move the phone from your ear with a wince as Hughie yells the words. “You need to come, please, Annie will kill me-“

“Why, Hughie. Why will she kill you if it’s not something to be worried about?” Hughie was silent for a second, so you continued. “This is risky, you know this is risky. If you say it’s important to Annie I’ll do it, but I need to know that it’s actually important to her, and not something to be concerned about.”

“It is important to Annie,” Hughie’s voice was hushed. “You’re right, it’s not like her, but she’s still fighting with her mom, and Firecracker did a lot of damage-“ you wince at the mention of Firecracker, but remain silent. “And she just wants to do something kind of normal with the team. Something stupid that isn’t fucking life or death.”

“Okay.” You say, and you mean it. “Three hours?”

“Uh, yeah. Three hours.”

“See you then.” You hang up, and sigh at nothing.

Three hours. Three hours to remember how to look and act like the carefree, normal person you’d been three years ago. The person who had friends, and went out with those friends, and had simple, wild fun with those friends. You could do it again, even if those friends were now revenge fueled mercenaries. But you could have fun. You would have fun. For yourself. Not because the Feeling was starting to come up with all the ways in which you could prove that you weren’t a stick in the mud, and all the ways Ben’s jaw would drop when he was forced to eat his words.

You dump out the contents of Annie’s box—an immediate mistake, there was somehow more than there looked to be—and set to work. You tried all ten of the different perfumes, settled on a flowery one with an Italian label that you certainly butcher the pronunciation of, and took a shower. A long shower, that drowned out the Feeling reminding you of your last shower, where Ben’s sweat from training had been stuck to your body, and his touch had still been lingering on your skin, and his face was imprinted onto your eyes, and the sound of his voice was ringing in your ears-

You turned the shower knob until the water was freezing, and cursed slightly as the chill hit your body.

After you’d dried yourself off—two hours left—you set to work. Makeup first, a full face of powders and shadows and colors. You started over three times—muscle memory was not your friend and the more you sorted through the pile of products the less satisfied you were with your previous choices—and by the time you were done and semi-pleased with your handiwork, you were down to an hour. Hair was faster—there were less choices to be made—and by the time you looked in the mirror ten minutes remained. Ten minutes to not dwell on Ben. Ten minutes to remind yourself that this wasn’t about him, because this was about Annie. Ten minutes for the Feeling to work up from where you’d buried it, and provide unhelpful fantasies of Ben smudging your lipstick and messing up your hair and looking at you with the same hooded gaze from earlier-

Your phone buzzed, a text from Butcher flashing across the screen.

William Butcher: Worst Boss Ever

We’ll talk tonight.

Cold ran through your body, steeling you as your breathing became controlled. Tonight. Butcher was ready, he’d texted you this morning about “all the bloody pieces in place”, and you were going to talk tonight. This wasn’t about the Feeling, because the Feeling didn’t matter. It was gripping onto Ben for safety, a luxury it would soon no longer have. This was about having fun, before everything went to hell. This was about the fact that all of this was so close to over, you might as well enjoy doing something stupid for your friend. You gave the mirror a glare, the foreign woman in it glaring right back. This was the last time she’d make an appearance, because Butcher was ready tonight.

You heard a light knock on your door, took a deep breath, and went to answer it. Annie stood on the other side, holding a plastic bag with a white-knuckled grip.

“Oh good, you’re ready.” She held out the bag, and you took it tentatively as she continued. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a few different styles. Once you get changed, we’ll get going.”

You glance down, scanning Annie’s options. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”

“Some sort of underground speak-easy type club.” Annie frowned slightly. “I don’t remember the name, Frenchie was talking really fast when he said it.”

You nod nervously, fighting the lump in your throat. “Okay, give me, like, five and I’ll be ready.”

You were about to retreat into your room, starting to close the door, when Annie stopped you with a quick, nervous touch. You blink at her, trying to ignore the rush of anxiety and stress that buzzed through your body.

Annie said your name softly. “Thank you for doing this.”

You shrug. “Don’t.”

“I know you’d rather not leave-“

“Annie, seriously. It’s fine. You’re right, we all need a break.” You clear your throat, chasing off the grip that Butcher’s text had left on your lungs. “This will be fun.”

“You look nice,” Annie offers a smile. “Hot.”

You give her a half-forced, toothy grin. “You look hot as well. Hughie’s gonna lose his mind.” Maybe Ben will lose his for you, the Feeling said dreamily in your ear. You pushed it back into the corners of your brain, forcing yourself to focus on Annie.

“This will be fun.” Annie echo’s your sentiment, her voice firm. “I’ll see you when you’re ready?”

“In five.” You restate, nodding. This time, when you go to close the door, Annie doesn’t stop you.

Changing takes a little over five minutes, because even though you try to pick something fast, it’s impossible to ignore the Feeling as it tries to invent different scenarios about how that option will highlight one feature, but that option will highlight another, and Ben would probably like the third option because it’s green-

You pick the green option, because it shuts the Feeling up the easiest.

When you get to the living room, MM and Butcher are standing stiffly at the door, Kimiko is rummaging through the bookshelf as Frenchie watches with an adorably affectionate expression, and Hughie and Annie are huddled on the couch, exchanging low words. You clear your throat, and hold yourself steady as attentions turn to where you stand at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m ready.” You mumble, giving the room another quick sweep. “Where’s Ben?”

“Asshole was in the shower when we got here.” MM grumbled. “Still hasn’t come down.”

You snort. “In that case we might be here all night. That man takes long showers, he might not be half-way done.”

“Fucking rude, Sunshine.” You jump, spinning on your heels to see Ben coming down the stairs, a crooked grin on his face. “I care about my hygiene, is that a goddamn crime?” “When it takes up all the hot water? Yeah, it is.” You avert your gaze as you snap at him, because the Feeling is starting to push up and up in your brain, almost consumes your thoughts about the fact that Ben looks good, really good, and he’s stopped right next to you, and you can feel the heat from his body-

Butcher’s voice snaps you away from the Feeling’s grip. “Well, don’t you two clean up well?” His tone is mocking, and when you look at his twisted smile and cold eyes, your whole body tenses.

“Wish I could say the same for you, you fucking pussy.” Ben drawls, seemingly unbothered. “You own any clothes that aren’t those ugly fucking Hawaiian shirts?”

“Nah,” Butcher winks. “Nothing else matches my thongs, Gov.”

Ben’s fists curl in your periphery, and you take a step forward. “Frenchie,” your voice is a little louder than probably needed, but it gets the job done. “How far is the club?”

Frenchie doesn’t look up from watching Kimiko as he responds. “An hour, Madame Anom-“ He cuts himself off, head shooting up to look nervously at Ben, and says your name instead.

“Then let’s get a move on,” MM grunts from the door, and you barely here his mutter of, “Fucking hell, Frenchie, couldn’t chose a place in a reasonable distance, could you?” because you’re blinking at Frenchie, trying to figure out why he’s still looking at Ben in not quite fear, but certainly not comfort.

Everyone filters out of the room—the air a little more tense than it probably should be for a group of people going clubbing—and you grab Ben’s arm before he can follow.

Mistake. Big mistake. The Feeling claws its way to the surface, because you’re fully looking at him and he’s fully looking at you, and everything is suddenly very sharp and very warm. Because, even if he was being a sardonic ass, Butcher was right. Ben cleaned up well. Really well. Unfairly well. The Feeling couldn’t pick a place to settle, because his hair was slightly mussed, and he’d shaved just enough for you to really see his lips, and his shirt was clinging to his chest in a way that you could see his muscles ripple as he breathed, and you were thirsty again, because your heart was rolling around inside your chest. Because he was looking you up and down, and the Feeling was so focused on trying to see if there was anything in the way he looked at you that you didn’t think you remembered how to breathe.

“You look good,” Ben’s voice is low and gruff, and does not help silence the Feeling at all.

“Thanks.” You mumble, and hope you sound a little less pathetic and breathless than you feel. You manage to blink a few times, pulling your head into the game and ignoring the pounding in your chest and head. “Uh, what was that about?”

He frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Frenchie looked at you like you were going to rip his head off.”

“They always look at me like that,” Ben shrugs. “So?”

“He didn’t call me ‘Madame Anomaly’, he used my name.”

“Yeah, maybe the prick finally realized that you’re no Madame,” his tone is mocking, but you can’t feel any malice or cruelty. Only the resolved protection wrapping around you.

It made the Feeling feral. It made you struggle to focus.

You must be looking as lost as you feel, because Ben’s eyes narrow, and he looks you up and down again. “Are you sure you want to do this, Sunshine?”

The Feeling wants to touch the lines of tension on his brow, run your fingers over them until they vanish, and you overpower it just enough to say, “What?”

“If you really don’t, I can tell them you’re sick and to go without us.”

“I can’t get sick, Ben.” You say flatly, pulling yourself forcefully from the Feeling’s grasp.

“Then come up with a better lie. And we’ll stay here.”

You glare at him. “I said I was going to have fun, Benjamin, and I fucking meant it. We’re going, I’m going to blow your fucking brains out with how fun I am, and you’re going to admit that I’m no a stick in the mud.”

He coughs something that’s either a laugh or a choke, and your heart squeezes. “Fuck me for trying to be helpful, brat.”

“After you, cunt.” You make a sweeping gesture forward, releasing his arm.

Ben rolls his eyes at you, grinning widely. “Ladies first, Sunshine.”

“I thought I was ‘no Madame’- hey!”

Ben loops his arm through yours, and before you know what’s happening he’s pulling you through the door and towards the van. The Feeling is dazed, crawling through you as everything becomes a very hazy cloud of warm and safe and Ben. He grumbles “don’t these pussies own any other goddamn cars,” and you can feel it hum through you.

You managed to detangle yourself from Ben long enough to haul yourself through the back doors alone, stumbling to sit down at Kimiko’s side as Ben follows you.

“Where’s Frenchie?” You ask her, signing as you nod at the empty spot where he’s usually found.

Butcher hates MapQuest Kimiko signs back with an eye roll. Frenchie has to give him manual directions.

You laugh, and feel the Feeling keen inside you as Ben drops next to you, his knee pushed into yours.

“What’s funny?” He grunts, and when you turn to look at him, you feel your heart buck in your chest. His face is a lot closer than you expected, and his lips are very pink.

“Butcher’s being an ass,” you manage to say plainly, and Ben snorts.

“I can fucking hear you, Love,” Butcher calls from the front, and you scoff. “We work for the bloody CIA, you should know better than to trust something with a GPS.”

“The phone has a GPS anyway, dumbass, you’re not combating a surveillance state by getting us lost.”

Butcher is silent for a second after you respond, and you can see his scowl in the rearview mirror. “That true Hughie?”

“Uh,” Hughie looks up, startled, from his place at Annie’s side. “Yeah? Most modern tech has some sort of GPS.”

“Huh.” Butcher grunts. “When we get back from this shit, you’re removing mine from my phone, got it?”

Hughie pales. “What?”

Before you can marvel at Butcher’s shockingly inept knowledge of how phones worked, the Feeling returns in a full, electric force, and you realize Ben is leaning into you.

His voice is a grumble near your ear, and it makes the Feeling burn. “What the fuck is a GPS.”

“Wha-“ you turn to face him, and cut yourself off when you find his face only inches from yours, his eyes watching you with a intensity that makes the Feeling painful.

“GPS,” he grunts, his breath fanning your face. “Cocksucker mention it last time, but nobody will actually fucking explain it.”

You blink. “It’s like a compass? Or a tracker? It tells you where you are on a map with satellites or something.”

Ben smirks. “Did I finally find something you don’t have the answer to, Sunshine?”

“No,” you scowl. “It’s just hard to explain.”

“Sure,” his smile is so wide, so teasing and light, the Feeling wants to make him do that again, just for you, and it takes strained effort to really listen to him. “You’re not scared to admit you’re wrong, are you, brat?”

“I’m never fucking wrong, cunt.” You scowl. “You should know that by now.”

An almost painful craving feeling runs through your heart, and Ben winks. “Of course, Sunshine. I’m not in the business of disagreeing with terrifyingly beautiful women.”

This time, you’re certain you’ve forgotten how to breathe. It really doesn’t feel that vital right now, not when the Feeling is everything and everywhere and writhing around and consuming you, because what does that mean and why did he say it like that and why is he looking at you like that and would he please stop looking at you because it’s very distracting and actually, if he looks away from you your heart might stop working so he needs to stay right there-

Someone says your name, a few times, and you’re forced to find a way to look away from Ben and live with it.

Annie is watching you with a strange look as Hughie stands to talk to Butcher in the front—the GPS argument apparently nowhere close to settled—but she clears her throat and says your name one more time, likely trying to verify your attention.

“What’s up?” Your voice is a lot more hoarse than you’d like, and you chalk it up to not drinking enough water.

“Butcher told us you could sing?” Annie’s voice is curious, and she doesn’t seem to notice how you tense at her words. “I mean, he seemed really mad about it for some reason, but he said you had a nice voice.”

You cough—feeling Ben’s protective, stone-like resolve run through you—and manage to answer in a steady voice. “I- I can. Kind of. It’s not a big deal-“

“She has the voice of the angels,” Frenchie calls from the front, and the fire starts to itch. “Like a bird song.”

“It’s really not-“

“Do not feel modesty,” oblivious to the edge of anxiety in your voice, Frenchie continues. “It is a rare gift, when we heard it-“

“We?” You cut him off, the itch running into your blood. “How many of you heard it, exactly?”

“Myself, Kimiko, Monsieur Butcher, and Soldier Boy.”

“You weren’t being quiet, Love.” Butcher says over Hughie’s low, exasperated explanation of how hardware works. “Not our fault we heard.”

“Not your fault?” You say incredulously. “Not your fault that you heard me over the cameras you didn’t tell me about?” The van is silent for a second as you glare around at your team, everyone avoiding your gaze. “Did you all know about them?”

“They’re just a precaution,” MM says your name tightly. “For your safety-“

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“It ain’t like we put them in the bloody bathrooms or bedrooms, Love,” Butcher snaps. “We use them to check on you and Soldier Boy once a week, make sure you haven’t bashed each other’s brains in, and that fuckin it.”

“It’s an invasion of fucking privacy!”

“It’s a CIA safe house,” Butcher sneers. “You expect privacy? Go to a Holiday Inn.”

Ben’s hand finds your thigh right before you can stand from your seat and throw Butcher into oncoming traffic. When you turn to look at him, his own anger moving into yours, he’s giving you a small frown of I’m not fucking happy about it either Sunshine, but you can’t kill Butcher right now.

You glare back at him. Since when are you anti-murder in any circumstance?

He rolls his eyes. Since it would result in you being locked up for murder and me going back in the box. He nudges his leg against yours once more and you realize you can feel the anger, but no drums. Get through all this, and I’ll kill Butcher however you want.

You huff a small laugh, and realize everyone is still silent around you, watching you and Ben with varying looks of confusion. You clear your throat nervously, and make an attempt to divert the conversation. “Frenchie, what’s the name of the place?”

“The Renegade Room,” Frenchie says smugly. “It is a hidden establishment, for those of our discrete nature.”

MM frowns, his voice exasperated. “I keep asking you what ‘discreet nature’ fucking means, and you haven’t given me a straight answer yet.”

“Those who have just as much to lose as their neighbor,” though Frenchie’s tone implies that his answer is simple—obvious even—everyone’s matching expression of confusion tells you they’re as lost as you are.

“Frenchie,” Hughie voices everyone’s concerns with a slow voice. “That doesn’t sound safe.”

Butcher’s voice is stern, angry. “Am I going to have to turn this bloody car ‘round? Because someone going to be made to pay all the fucking gas-“

“Not a car,” Ben mutters from your side, and you roll your eyes.

“Well, Gov.” Butcher sneers from the front. “Next time we’ll take the real car, and you can ride in the bloody trunk.”

“You try and shove me in a trunk, I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

You sigh. “Can someone figure out what Frenchie means before these two Alpha male each other to death?”

Kimiko nudges your side, and you stick your tongue out at Ben’s scowl before you turn to her.

He told me it’s other supes who have left Vought, other citizens who were burned by them, anyone in hiding. She glares over her shoulder at Frenchie as she signs. Don’t feel bad, he’s not good at explaining it.

You laugh, signing thank you to her before repeating her words aloud.

“Oh,” Hughie is the first to react. “That’s, that’s smart Frenchie.”

“Oui, Petite Hughie. Teach all you imbeciles to doubt me.”

Everyone slowly returns to their conversations, Hughie giving up on his argument with Butcher and joining Annie and MM’s discussion about acceptable club music, and Ben hanging over your shoulder as you turn back to Kimiko.

What did Annie do to get you here? You sign, and she gives you a smile.

She bought me a dress. She gestures proudly to her outfit. And makeup. With lots of glitter.

You laugh. I got a similar treatment. And you look very nice.

So do you. Kimiko glances at Ben, who’s attempting to both sit pressed against you—as if you might vanish into thin air—and look completely disinterested in you and Kimiko’s silent conversation. Did he tell you look nice?

You feel heat on your face, and you blink at her. No. I mean, kind of? Why?

Kimiko shrugs. Just curious.

For a second you consider mentioning the “terrifyingly beautiful” thing, but the van jerks to a stop, the engine shutting off as Butcher stands.

“Alright, ground rules Boys. No one gets drunk enough to cause a scene. Everyone stays close in case we need to make a quick exit. Frenchie, no drug dealing, this ain’t a business trip. MM, no cleaning the space, it’s a bloody futile effort. Hughie, try and let loose, or at least pretend you enjoy this. Starlight, keep your head down, we don’t need your celebrity status bitin us in the arse again.” Butcher says your name, giving you a glare the others didn’t receive. “No touching people, no going postal, either you or Frenchie are with the Female all the time, and keep your fucking boy toy in line. Soldier Boy, stick with her, and no explosions. Actually,” Butcher gives everyone a sharp glare. “That goes for all you cunts.”

You can feel Ben tensing at your side, his tight anger pounding with your heart, and the Feeling proves once more to be unhelpful as it decides to focus purely on how close he is to you.

“Does he always give such stupid fucking pep talks before everything these pussies do?” Ben mutters in your ear, and you kick his shin, failing to suppress your snort.

“Yeah, he does.” You look up in surprise at MM, who had stood to exit the van and apparently heard Ben’s comment. He doesn’t spare either of you a look, grumbling something about the Spice Girls as he continues on his way.

“Let us get the show on the road, non?” Frenchie stops before you and Kimiko, offering a hand down. “Mon Coeur?”

Kimiko smiles at him as she takes his hand, looping her arm through his, and they follow MM out of the van.

“Are they fucking?” Ben asks, watching them as they leave.

You frown. “I honestly don’t know.”

He snorts, standing up. “They look like they’re fucking.” You roll your eyes, ignoring the Feeling sulking at the loss of his touch. You’re about to give him a snarky comment—probably about how his perception skills don’t have a very high success rate, because for the first month you lived together he refused to hear that Hughie and Butcher weren’t married—but your words die in your throat when Ben extends his hand down, holding right before you.

You look up at him, blinking as Hughie stumbles past Ben in the background. What are you doing?

He glares at you. Don’t make a damn scene, Sunshine. Just fucking take my hand before Butcher yells at us for being too slow.

You wrinkle your nose at him, but take Ben’s hand slowly, yelping in surprise as he grips you firmly, pulling you to your feet. You fall right into his chest, and the Feeling is thirsty again, restless inside you, making everything feel very solid and secure and he smells good and his hand is rough around you and would it feel this nice against other parts of your body? What would you need to say to get him to touch other parts of your body? He looks hungry again, maybe if you just asked-

“Oi, we ain’t got all night!” Butcher calls from outside. “Some of us have shit we want to do.”

Even the Feeling, still desperate inside of you, falls silent at that. You have things to do. Butcher’s almost ready.

“We’re coming!” You call out, and don’t bother to remove yourself fully from Ben—you’re not sure the Feeling would allow you to—choosing to just tug him after you. The night air is cold, the wind is biting, and Ben’s warmth at your back makes it a lot harder to get the Feeling to calm down. There’s a harsh, putrid smell in the air that is completely covered by pine trees and coffee and Ben, and you’re so consumed by it, by the Feeling, you almost don’t realize the van is parked at the edge of a junkyard.

At first glance, the “club” looks suspiciously like an abandoned Blockbuster. There’s yellow caution tape all over the building, the windows are boarded up, and a Danger! Biohazard: Infectious Waste sign is hung on the doors. Frenchie ignores it, pushing right into the building, and everyone follows with apprehensive steps.

The inside doesn’t improve anyone’s faith. There’s dust, grime, mold, and cobwebs at every corner and turn, you hear a scratching sound beneath your feet, those are definitely cracks on the walls, and something smells like dead fish.

“Frenchie, you fucker,” MM looks like he’s about to vomit, and you don’t think you’re faring much better. “If this is a prank I with beat your ass so goddamn hard-“

“Have a little faith, mon amie,” Frenchie cuts MM off, ignoring the daggers MM continues to glare at his head. “It is just right-“ You jump as Frenchie topples one of the empty shelves to the ground with a loud thud. “Here. Mon Coeur?”

Kimiko rolls her eyes, but moves to pick up the shelf with ease and pulls it aside as Frenchie pushes at the wall, which swings open to reveal a staircase.

“This is some James Bond bullshit.” MM grunts.

“Take it or leave it, Mate.” Butcher peers down the staircase, where you can hear the deep sounds of a bass and see occasional flashes of light. “I, for one, am thrilled. Bloody good work, Frenchie.”

As you descend the poorly lit, steep staircase, you and Ben trail at the back, and it occurs to you around half-way down that he still has an iron-like grip on your hand, that the stone-like resolve hasn’t left him—left you—and may be the only thing keeping you upright at this point. You glance up at him, elbowing him lightly until he returns your gaze.

You raise your eyebrows at him, hoping he can still read your expression in the darkness. No drums?

He frowns slightly. No. How the fuck did you know about that?

Felt it. You squeeze his hand in reminder. I think that means my experiment is working.

He rolls his eyes. Or maybe I just don’t have shell shock, brat.

Or maybe I’m never fucking wrong, cunt. You stick your tongue out, and swear the shadows play a cruel trick where his eyes fall and linger on your mouth.

He winks at you, and your heart flails in its usual perfect rhythm with the Feeling. Before you can read his face is trying to tell you, he tugs you back slightly—right into his side—and you realize you’d been about to run head-first into Hughie’s back.

“Welcome, my friends, to The Renegade Room.” Frenchie does a wide sweeping gesture to the scene before you and you step a little further back, caught only by Ben’s arm around you.

If someone had asked you in the van to describe your expectations, you would have been dead on the money. Colorful, strobing lights, casting a neon glow. Sweaty, bouncing bodies crowded in the center of the room. The beat of the music carving deep, deep into your chest and running across your bones. Your’e clinging to Ben, half because he’s making no effort to remove himself from you, and half because if he does decide to let go you’re pretty sure you’ll freeze in a very inconvenient place. The Feeling tries to pull your body closer to him, even though his arm is slung around your shoulders and you’re still gripping his hand where it rests near your neck.

Frenchie leads the group to one of the velvet-seated booths, wrapped in a smoky haze and completed with a round table that has a few stains that cause MM to clasp his hand firmly in his lap, scowling at the surface.

You scoot in after Hughie, Ben following right behind you, never letting go. Annie remains standing, looking around the club before shouting over the music.

“Frenchie! Drinks?!”

Frenchie gestures to follow him, disappearing with Annie and Kimiko into the crowd.

“None of those fuckers listened to my ’stay close’ shit?” Butcher grumbles, and you sneer at him.

“We’re not fucking gazelle, Butcher, we’re people. People are going to wander.”

He glares at you, eyes narrowing as he looks you over, Ben’s arm still around you. Butcher snorts, shaking his head, and whatever cruel comment had been about to escape his mouth is cut off by Hughie’s nervous shouting.

“Are all these people fugitives from Vaught?” He’s leaning up, scanning the crowd. “Even, like, the bartenders?”

MM shrugs. “Probably. It works in our favor, kid, don’t worry.”

Hughie gives a reluctant nod, but doesn’t stop eyeing the patrons wearily.

“I’m getting a bloody drink.” Butcher stands, giving you own last scowl. “I'll see you lot later. MM?”

MM grunts, standing as well, and they disappear in the same direction the others went, leaving you, Ben, and Hughie alone at the table.

“Um,” Hughie looks between you nervously. “Thank you for doing this, I know it’s weird, but-“

“Hello. there” Hughie is cut off by a bright eyed woman appearing before you, smiling down sweetly. “You three are new. We don’t get a lot of new people.”

“Well, doll, let’s just say we know a guy.” Ben drawls, and the Feeling becomes tight and bitter.

She laughs, and the sound is sweet like a bell and grinds in your brain. “How did we all get here, hm?” She leans down, giving everyone a perfect, white-toothed smile. “What’s our story?”

Ben looks at you, Hughie follows his lead, and—you’re not sure why—apparently you’ve been volunteered to answer.

“Supes,” you point between you and Ben. “That Vought doesn’t like very much. Dude,” you point at Hughie. “Whose girlfriend got collaterally-damaged.”

“Hm,” she tilts her head, hair falling in perfect waves. “What kind of supes? Would I have heard of you?”

You answer before Ben can, sensing his wave of indigence wash through you. “Nope. Vought didn’t really have interest in making us public. I’m not very charismatic and I can’t lie.” Ben snorts, and you jab an elbow into his gut. “And this guy pees when he gets attention. Side-effect of the V, not very marketable.”

The woman blinks, and Ben gives you a fucking really, Sunshine? glower.

You give him a fake, wide-eyed look of innocence. What’s wrong, Pretty Boy? Did I say something?

He rolls his eyes. Brat.

Before you can give him a sickly-sweet smile of cunt, the woman is speaking again.

“I can deal with a little golden shower. You only fuck supes, Handsome? Or do mortals like me get a chance?” Ben blinks at her, and she leans forward, a sultry smile that feels like toxins in your body playing on her lips. “How about drugs? You do drugs?”

Ben gives her a wide grin, something vile runs through your blood, and Hughie coughs.

“That’s my cue. I’m going to find Annie.” All but running from the table, Hughie vanishes into the fray as well, and it’s just you and Ben.

You, Ben, and the woman looking at Ben like he’s meat and she’s hungry.

“What’s on the menu?” Ben is smiling, and though it’s a colder smile than you’ve seen on his face in a while, it still makes the Feeling hiss inside you.

The woman pulls out small bags from the top of her dress. “Whatever you want, darling.” The Feeling hates that more than handsome. Ben is handsome, that was just a factual statement. It haunted you how handsome he was, because it made it harder to dismiss the Feeling as just Ben is safe. It made the Feeling thirsty, and you violent. Her calling him darling was like a grip around your head, hot and brutal and constricting.

“Fucking hell, finally.” Ben grabs the bag with his free hand, and starts to examine it. “Coke?”

“Cut with a little something special,” the woman winks, and gives you a once over. “Your arm candy want some too?”

“As well,” Ben grunts, still looking at the baggie, and you feel a rush of amusement run through him. “And she’ll probably want to answer that herself.”

The woman looks at you fully, and you give a half-hearted shrug.

“I think I’m good, thanks.” You shout, voice still hardly audible over the club. “I, uh, I’m not a huge coke person.”

She scoffs, turning her attention back to Ben. “You want some less uptight company, pretty boy?”

It’s not just the Feeling that hates that. Your teeth are clenched, you can feel your nails digging into your skin, you’re not sure if the smoke surrounding you is from you or just general club smoke. The Feeling is chanting something about throwing the woman across the room, punching out all her perfect teeth, and burning out her shining eyes. You’re on board with it.

“I’m good, doll.” Ben’s voice cuts through your gory fantasies, and his smile has returned down to you. “She’s plenty fun, aren’t you Sunshine?”

You blink stupidly, and make a weak sound of acknowledgment. The Feeling is still loud in your head, you can feel something shockingly strong running in your heart, and Ben is telling the woman he’s good but you can feel a hunger that doesn’t belong to the Feeling, a hunger you’ve only felt when the thirst had been unbearably strong. Lust. Ben was telling the woman he was good but he was feeling lust.

The woman just gives a simpering smile in your direction. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

Only Ben’s arm, still around your shoulder as he dumps out the contents of the bag, stops you from leaping over the table and killing her.

You look back at Ben, still the lust still lingering as the woman disappears, and watch his frustratingly attractive side-profile as he examines the white powder on the table.

“Looks legit?” He grunts, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s a question.

“I mean, it looks like cocaine. But it could just be, like, drywall.” Ben snorts, and unwelcome pride rushes through you. “I don’t know why you’re asking me, I’m not exactly a drug expert, Pretty Boy.” You say the last words firmer than you mean to, likely because the Feeling needs to make sure he hears them.

He hums, glancing back at you. “You sure you don’t want some? I’m willing to share.”

“Aren’t you just a pillar of charity?” You mumble, and he gives you a flat look. “No, Ben, I don’t want cocaine that was given to me in a shady club by a random woman who was keeping it in her boobs.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “You always call it cocaine, Sunshine?”

“What else am I supposed to call it?” You frown, and Ben chuckles.

“Coke. Like every other fucker on the planet. Do you call meth “methamphetamine’?”

“So what if I do?” You snapped, and he just laughs, giving you a wink before removing his arm from around you and diving nose-first into the white pile. The Feeling whines from the loss of his touch, and your nails would probably have scarred your skin if you were still human.

He comes up, wiping the drugs from his face. “Shit, that’s good. You fucking sure you don’t want a hit, Sunshine? It won’t affect you now, not like any normal human pussy.”

“I like to keep a firm rule about the boob-drug thing. I’m good.”

Ben just shrugs, and you feel him press his thigh fully against yours. The Feeling is calmed by the action, and makes you watch him in a trance-like state as he leans back against the booth cushions. There’s still a little powder caught in his beard, and the Feeling wants to wipe it off and offer it to him on your fingers-

“I didn’t think of Starlight as a boob-drug club type.” He raises his brows at you. “What made her decide to be less of a prudish bitch?”

“She’s just stressed,” you answer nonchalantly. “There’s slim-pickings for venues we can all attend, and I’d hazard a guess that almost all of them would be clubs of the boob-drug variety.”

Ben laughs loudly, the one that always lingers in your chest and that the Feeling drinks like fuel. He takes another snort—thigh still firmly against yours—and looks like he’s going to say something when he comes back up, but his attention gets caught in front of you.

You follow his gaze and find Annie, a lot more smiley than you’ve ever seen her, watching you with wide-eyes.

“Annie are you-“

She says your name, her voice a bright and bubbly tone you’ve ever heard on TV. “Come dance!”

You frown. “I’m not supposed to leave Ben.”

“Oh, come onnn.” Annie’s words are slightly slurred, her smile too bright. “Everyone’s breaking Butcher’s stupid rules, if MM can start organizing the bar and Frenchie can hand out bathroom-pills, you can leave Soldier Boy for one dance.”

Ben nudges your shoulder, looking at you in mock hurt. “One dance, Sunshine. Do you not think I can behave myself for one dance?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. Unhelpful.

He gives you a teasing, lop-sided smile. You said you’d have so much fun it would blow my mind.

So? You scowl.

Dance, Sunshine. Have some fun. He looks back at Annie. “She’s coming.”

Annie squeals, and—giving Ben a dirty look as you do—you shuffle out of the booth. “This is peer pressure.” You mutter under your breath, and catch Ben’s huff of amusement.

You look at him as you stand, just long enough to see his wink of have fun, brat before Annie is pulling you into the throes of the crowd.

Everything turns into a flash of furious and lustful and mournful and guilty and elation as you’re rammed through the dance floor, and your skin becomes coated in stress, starting from where Annie grips your wrist.

She releases you when you stop at the bar, leaning over the counter to wave someone down. You rub where she’d been holding you, the anxiety still humming through you.

“Annie, if you need to talk-“

“What's going on with you and Soldier Boy?” She shouts over your attempt, giving you a dizzy smile. “Is Butcher right? Are you fucking?”

You stare at her. “Jesus Christ, no, Annie, we’re not fucking.”

“Do you want to fuck him?”

“No!” Your voice is high, and you ignore the Feeling spinning resentfully inside of you. “Annie, what is going on with you-“

“Hughie told me that you two keep making ‘heart-eyes’ at each other,” she pokes your shoulder, and the stress jolts through you. “And he was right! You totally make heart-eyes!”

“No, we don’t. Annie, you have to stop touching me, I think you keep forgetting-“

“I don’t keep ‘forgetting’,” her voice is exasperated as she says your name. “I just don’t care!” She giggles, and your concern grows. “And you’re trying to change the subject!”

“I’m not, I’m just worried-“

“Did he Stockholm synonym you? Is that it?”

“Stockholm syndrome,” you correct with a small frown. “And I think technically I Stockholmed Ben-“

“See!” Annie grabs your hands between hers. “You call him Ben. Like he’s a person!”

The Feeling doesn’t like that, and you tense defensively. “He is a person, Annie.”

She nods. “And you’re fucking him.”

“I’m not fucking him!” Your protests are growing weaker, and you chalk it up to Annie’s persistence.

“You let him touch you!” She squeezed your hands. “Like, all the time.”

“Because he doesn’t care.” You say firmly. “If you weren’t seven-plus shots into the night, you wouldn’t be touching me, Annie. Because I can feel that there’s something wrong with you. Please just talk to me-“

“No!” She shouts, her grip on you becoming slightly painful. “I just want to have fun! I’ve never gotten to have fun! I’ve never had normal friends and had normal fun so can we please just dance?!” She says your name in a pleading tone. “I just want to dance with my friend.”

You blink. “I, um, I didn’t know we were friends.” You glance back at her hands, still around yours. “You’re kind of, you act like you’re afraid of me usually.”

Annie’s face falters for a second, and you feel her guilt rush through her. She says your name a little sadly, looking at you with big eyes. “Your powers are scary. Really, really scary. You’re kind of scary. But I still want to be your friend.”

Your chest squeezes. “I don’t think most of the others agree with that sentiment, Annie. I don’t want to ostracize you any more.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “You mean fucking Butcher? That asshole will get over it.”

“But-“

Annie says your name in the strongest tone you’ve heard her use since you arrived. “Everyone else is scared of you, because you’re scary.”

“Calling me scary isn’t a great way to tell me you want to be my friend-“

“But they don’t hate you. Kimiko loves you, Frenchie likes that Kimiko loves you, MM isn’t a huge fan of you and Soldier Boy fucking-“

“We’re not-“

She presses a finger to your lip. “But he still respects you. He thinks you’re okay. Hughie’s nervous because that man is always nervous-“ She sighs dreamily at nothing, words becoming slightly more slurred. “But he thinks you’re cool.”

You hum an acknowledgment through your lips, and Annie pulls back.

“Now can we please dance? Like normal people?”

You give her a smile, and it’s not forced. “Yeah, we can dance like normal people.”

Annie pulls you from the bar, right to the center of the dance floor, and starts dancing a little off-beat. Laughing, you grab her arms, moving her onto the rhythm of the song rolling through the club. Time turns into a blur, and you feel light. Everything is just the music and bubbly laughter and dancing in a way you haven’t in three years. You can’t sing, but you can move. Swaying and bouncing in time with the music, lost in the bass and the lights. You’re sweaty, and your hard work from the afternoon is probably ruined, and you’re a little breathless, but it feels just stupid and easy and fun. You’re not drunk—you can’t be anymore—but everything feels easy. The Feeling sneaks up on you, and suddenly you’re missing him again. You’re having fun, and the Feeling is suddenly painfully insistent that he be at your side, having fun with you.

You stumble away from Annie, stopping at the edge of the crowd as you look for Ben. It’s a little worrying how easy you find where he’s still sat, the white pile almost entirely gone from the table. Your brain is so full of the Feeling, repeating his name in a harmony of Ben, Ben, Ben, that you almost miss that he’s not alone.

The lady with the sweet smile and bright eyes is next to him, where you had been. You can see the pearl of her smile from where you’re standing, imagine the honey-like drip of her voice. Ben’s arms aren’t around her, rested on the table as he speaks, but you can’t see his legs, and the Feeling is kicking at your gut.

You’re frozen for a second, and you hear a voice from somewhere to your side.

“Ready for our chat, Love?"

You turn sharply, and see Butcher’s humorless, cold smile for only a second before he’s grabbing your arm, tugging you roughly away from Ben, past the crowd, and into a broom closet. He lets go like you’ve burned him—you’re certain you didn’t—and toss the rag he’d been using to the side.

“What the fuck, Butcher?!” You hiss as he shakes out his hand. “You couldn’t have just asked me to follow you?!”

“You were mooning over Soldier Boy like a damn puppy. Couldn’t risk him seeing us and asking stupid fucking questions.” Butcher gives you a smirk. “You two kiss and make up about your little lie?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Boy, he was bloody pissed.” Butcher laughs mockingly. “Was real fucking worried about you, Love. Made us put on the cam audio cause he was so fuckin worried.” He sneers the last words, and you cross your arms across your chest, violating shutting down how Butcher’s words make the Feeling warm with images of Ben and the woman with the perfect smile.

“Our conversation about cameras isn’t fucking over, you asshole.” You snap, and Butcher scoffs.

“Please, it ain’t going to even fucking matter soon, is it now?” He meets your glare with another crude grin. “And you’re the forgiving type, Love, aren’t you. You forgave Soldier Boy for his little lie about the meeting.”

You grit your teeth. “Yeah, I did.”

“And he forgave you about the singing shit?”

“Yep.” You hold his gaze, the itch of heat under your skin starting to build.

Butcher smile is all teeth and cold mockery and bored hatred. “He doesn’t know what he was really forgiving you for, does he?”

You can see smoke curling around you. “Shut the fuck up, Butcher. Let’s just get this over with.”

He rolls his eyes, but his face falls into seriousness. “Fine, Love, suck all the fuckin fun out of it. It’ll be ready in nine days.”

“Nine days?” You take a deep, jagged breath and the fire crawls around your head. “And you’re sure it will work. We only get one fucking chance, Butcher, you have to be certain—“

“I am certain,” he hisses. “Everything is lined up perfectly. The opening is in nine days, I’ll take the Boys on a wild goose chase, and this will fucking work.”

You nod slowly, and the air feels like poison in your lungs. “What about Ben?”

“Well,” Butcher jeers. “It looks like the little bloody bond you two formed is going to work in our favor. And if it doesn’t we’ll lock him in the safe house and figure out some sort of gas-gun. It won’t be your fucking problem either way.”

“What if Ryan doesn’t listen?” You whisper in a futile attmept to keep the fear from your voice. “What it doesn’t work-“ “That boy loved his mother.” Butcher’s voice is firm, and there’s something distant in his glare. “He’ll listen.”

“He doesn’t know me-“

“You getting fucking cold feet? On your own fucking plan?”

“No,” you snap. “I just want to prepare for every fucking hurdle so I’m not throwing myself in front of a train just for you to fuck me, Butcher.”

“It’s going to fucking work.” Butcher says, jaw clenched. “Nine days.”

You pull yourself together with a too-long, too-heavy breath. “Nine days.”

Butcher exits the closet before you do, leaving the fire clawing through you, blurring the world. You close your eyes, desperate to regain some semblance of control.

City lights. Music. City lights. Music. City lights. Music.

Ben.

Your eyes shoot open, and the Feeling starts the chew through the fire. City lights, music, Ben. The itch starts to wane, so you let the Feeling take over.

City lights, music, Ben. City lights, and music, and Ben.

Ben.

You’re grounded. Everything is clear, the fire is gone—you’ll deal with the implications of what did those things later—and so you exit the closet. You can’t go back to the booth—not if Ben and the woman are still there, because it might make something rotten wake up inside you—so you wander, looking for Annie. You find her clinging to Hughie in a corner, arms around him with her head in his chest, and decide to leave them be. A few minutes later you see Kimiko, standing vigilantly outside the toilets, and a relieved breath escapes you. You start to duck and weave through the crowd, making a beeline for the bathrooms, and are intercepted by Ben as you run head-first into his chest.

“Ow!” You try to push back from him, but he grabs your arm with a firm look. You peer at the expression on his face, a lot more stoic than you anticipated, and you feel that concrete concern of his, along with something hard in your chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been looking for you for fifteen goddamn minutes, Sunshine.” He snaps, ignoring your question. “Where the fuck did you go?”

You give a loose shrug, trying not to let the Feeling and it’s need for Ben to keep holding your arm distract you. “Bathroom.” You say lamely.

“Bullshit, you’re going towards the bathroom right now.”

“They were out of tampons, there was a girl who needed some.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he scans your body, and it makes the Feeling feral. “Where are they then?”

“Huh?” The Feeling is starting to be a cognitive issue, because your brain feels fuzzy from Ben’s touch. “Where’s what.”

“The fucking tampons.”

“They were out. I’m going to tell her to do the toilet paper method.” You take a gamble that Ben’s prevalent disinterest in what he calls women shit will work in your favor. And it does.

Ben grunts, and though you feel the thing in your chest loosen, the concern prevails and he doesn’t release you. “Once you do that, we’re leaving.”

You blink at him in surprise. “What about boob-drugs?” Your voice is a little louder than it needs to be, and Ben just frowns with a shrug.

“Wasn’t interested,” he says gruffly, looking down at you. The intensity of his gaze, combined with this information, was not helpful to controlling the Feeling, which started to move in time with your heart once more.

“Okay,” you sound breathless. “I’ll just, um, bathroom.”

He nods sternly, and you clear your throat.

“Benjamin.”

“What.”

“You’re welcome to join me on my endeavor, but if you’re not interested in talking about the toilet-paper method with some random girl-“ You gesture pointedly to his hold on your arm.

He gives you a blank look for a moment, and you watch the pieces fall into place in his head. He releases your arms mechanically, and gives you a tense nod. As you walk to the bathroom Ben trails at your side, posture more rigid than you’ve ever seen it. Kimiko smiles when she sees you approaching, signing a greeting. You smile back, offering one of your own.

Do you need to pee? She glanced up at Ben beside you. Does he need to pee?

No, you glance at Ben watching you both intently. I just need to go in for like two minutes. I told Ben I was helping a girl that doesn’t exist.

She frowns. Why?

He lost me in the crowd when he was doing drugs. Got weird about it. A half-truth, you reason, it better than an outright lie. I’ll just be in and out.

“What are you saying?” Ben grumbles, glaring between you.

“Don’t worry about it, Pretty Boy.” You say aloud, signing damn man-baby to Kimiko, who giggles.

He scowls. “Is she going to let you go in or do I need to fucking move her?”

Kimiko flips him off, telling you just say I’m telling you it’s fine. You don’t want to go in there anyways, Frenchie’s doing drugs.She frowns. Or dealing drugs. Or both.

“Apparently someone already helped the girl, Kimiko saw her leave.” You give her a grateful nod, turning back to Ben. “We can go wait at the booth until everyone is ready-“

“No.” He snaps, and you blink in surprise. “We’re leaving now.”

“We all came here together, there’s only one car-“

“I don’t give a shit, Sunshine, we’re leaving. Even if we have to steal the shitty fucking pussy-Mobile to do it.”

You feel Kimiko whack your arm, signing when you turn to her. Do you want me to tell Frenchie to drive you home again?

You shake your head. No, it’s fine.

You can’t call a taxi, she signs your name with a frown. And he looks angry.

He’s being a child, he’ll be fine. As you sign to Kimiko, you say aloud to Ben, “we’re not stealing the van, Ben.”

“What about boob-drugs’ car?”

You look at him with a frown. “What?”

“She told me she had a blue Lexmus. We can take that.”

“Lexmus?” You tilt your head. “Do you mean a Lexus?”

“Is that a car?” You nod, and he shrugs. “Then fucking sure.”

“We’re not stealing a random ladies car either!” You protest. “And we can’t just leave-“

Kimiko grabs your attention again, signing I could cover for you, and I don’t think Butcher would care if you stole a car.

You wave her off, but Ben catches on. “She’s agreeing with me, isn’t she?”

“No, she isn’t.” Your insistence is immediately undermined by Kimiko nodding vigorously. What the hell? You sign, and she shrugs.

You look tired, and we might be a few more hours. Let Soldier Boy take you home.

You sigh, rubbing your face as you look back at Ben. “If I agree to this, if, I’m driving.”

He nods. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Sunshine.” He extends his hand, you shake it reluctantly, and before you can pull back he’s pulling you through the crowd and up the stairs.

It takes you shockingly little time to find boob-drugs’ Lexus, partially because it’s an electric-blue luxury car parked in a sea of sketchy vans and beaten down Honda Civics, partially because Ben says she parked it towards the back of the yard and is able to make a direct path to it. His hand is in yours the entirety of the walk, a fact that manages to push down the bitterness the Feeling has about him knowing where the car is parked. Ben removes his hand from yours only when you reach the car itself, and smashes through the glass on the window in one clean punch.

“Fucking christ, Ben, warn a lady!” You jump back as the glass flies through the air, the car alarm blaring through the night.

Ben leans through the window, gashes on his face and hands quickly healing as he unlocks the car. “Don’t be dramatic, brat.” He dismisses. “You heal just as fast as I do.”

You frown as he kneels down below the dashboard. “Are you sure you know how to do this? This isn’t some dogshit muscle car, this has like, actual security.”

“Looks the damn same,” he grunts. “I’ll figure it out, Sunshine. Don’t fucking worry.”

You rub your shoulders, looking around the junkyard anxiously. “Why do you know how to do this again?”

He just shrugs. “I’m from Philly.”

“That’s not a real explanation, Pretty Boy.”

“Wasn’t much to do for fun when I was a kid. We didn’t have all the shitty modern toys kids have today.”

“So you stole cars? Weren’t you rich?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter.”

“I mean, you could’ve just bought one-“

Ben looks up at you with a scowl. “You think my father would’ve given me money to buy a car?”

“No,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

He sighs. “Stop fucking apologizing all the damn time, Sunshine. Remember, you’re never wrong.” Though his voice is teasing, it’s not covered in a cold sarcasm, making the Feeling buzz. You’re about to push him for more answers when the engine hums to life, and Ben sits up, giving you a cocky wink. “Fucking told you. Never doubt me again, brat.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, cunt. Get out of my seat.”

“No,” Ben settles into the driver’s seat, looking up at you smugly. “I think I’ll drive.”

“You dick, you fucking shook on it-“

“You’re tired,” Ben says your name with a bored voice, and very suddenly exhaustion hits you through your body. He really needs to stop doing that.

“No, I’m not.” You manage to fight the urge to yawn as you protest. “And you can’t drive.”

He glares at you. “Yes, I fucking can.”

“Not legally.”

“Nothing about this is fucking ‘legal’.”

“Benjamin, the last time you drove was the fucking 80s.”

“So?”

“Cars aren’t the same.”

He gives the interior of the car a frown. “Looks the fucking same to me.” He turns back to you. “And I’m not letting you behind the wheel, you look like you’re about to damn collapse.”

“Oh, fuck off Ben, you don’t give a shit about safe-driving.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “You’re still not fucking driving.”

“You’re just being an ass-“ You cut yourself off, the yawn fighting its way to the surface. At Ben’s smug look, you scowl. “Shut up.”

“Get in the car before I have to make you.”

The Feeling likes that idea, and in your exhaustion it’s harder to resist it. “You don’t even know how to get home.”

“You’ll help me.” Ben’s tone lacks any doubt, and you hate that he’s right. “Get in the fucking car.”

You glare at him, but stumble around to the passenger’s side, practically falling into the seat. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open long enough to pull up directions—especially as Ben’s hand finds your thigh as you fumble with your phone—and almost the second after you explain that all Ben has to do it listen to the robot lady’s voice, sleep starts to tug at the corners of your eyes.

You hear a soft chuckle from Ben. “Sleep well, Sunshine.” And something soft runs through your body as his voice falls through your head.

Everything is covered in the smoking haze of the club, but there’s no music, no blinding lights, no one else in the area but you. You and Ben.

He’s grinning down at you, arm around you again, and you feel light-headed. Because all his attention is on you, and though there’s no one else in the club, you have a feeling it wouldn’t matter. He’d just keep looking at you.

“Terrifyingly beautiful.” His voice has an odd echo to it as he speaks. “Aren’t you, Sunshine.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is confident, silky, and his smile widens.

“Not so bad, huh? Not frustratingly handsome?”

“Maybe. Not sure yet.”

Ben’s mouth is suddenly hovering right over your own, and it looks soft, curving into a smirk. “Anything I can do to convince you?”

“What do you have in mind?”

His mouth crashes into yours, and it’s perfect. It fits like it was made to be there, it moves like it’s been there a thousand times. You moan his name, and he just pushes deeper in, pulling you onto his lap like you’re made of nothing.

“Perfect,” Ben groans against your lip. “Fucking perfect.”

You whimper, and he chuckles as you start to grind against his thigh. “Ben-“

“Needy thing, aren’t you?” He moves from your mouth, starting to kiss sloppily down your neck. “Gonna beg, Sunshine? Ask nicely for me to fuck you?”

“I hate you-“

“No you don’t,” he nips at your skin.

“Ben-“

“Say please, beautiful. Tell me you want me.”

“Fuck you-“

“That doesn’t sound like please.”

You gasp, because his hands are everywhere. Tangled in your hair, tracing along your skin, running over your ass. His thigh is pushed fully into your core, but he’s gripping you too firmly, stopping you from chasing release. “Please,” the words are choked with desire. “Please, Ben, please.”

He laughs, a deep, satisfied sound that echoes everywhere. “A little more.”

You moan, clinging to his arms desperately. “Ben, please. Fuck me, please fuck me.”

He pulls back from your neck, grinning widely down at you for only a second before crashing his mouth back into yours. “Good girl,” Ben grunts against your lips, and suddenly you’re not in the booth anymore. You’re at home, in your bed, and he’s fully naked above you, smirking down at your body as he takes it in.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, and you’re flying. Ben is everywhere, everything. Nothing has felt like this, nothing will feel like this ever again. It’s so painfully hazy, like a cloud is over the world and every single touch along your skin and kiss against your lips or neck or cunt is wiped away, but you’re so high. It’s just Ben, Ben, Ben, with groans and hands and safe and warm and Ben. His face is above yours, watching you with hooded, hungry eyes as you feel full, and holding so gently in contrast with every other movement of his body. He kisses you again, and it’s deep and heavy and Ben.

Ben. Ben. You’re not thirsty anymore, you’ll never be thirsty for the rest of your life, because this is everything. Ben.

Ben.

Light leaks into your vision, chasing away the haze. You don’t really know how, but you’ve woken in your own bed, sheets clinging to the sweat of your body and sleep running away from your brain. You feel Ben before you see him. He’s asleep at your side, arm hanging loosely across your body. His head is pressed into the pillow, hair falling across his face, and you want to run your hands through it. The remnants of your dream linger, pushing to the front of your head, and you feel your face flush as you fail to pull your gaze from him. The Feeling felt so peaceful, Ben smells good, and he’s right here. With you. And you can’t bring yourself to move.

You simply lay in bed for an immeasurable amount of time, and realize that both you and Ben are in the same clothes from last night. You manage to grope around your bedside table for your phone without disturbing Ben, and sighing wearily as you see a barrage of texts and missed calls.

William Butcher: Worst Boss Ever (4) missed calls. Marvin Milk: Holder of Incorrect Dr. Dre Opinions (2) missed calls. Hughie Campbell: Not Allowed to Speak On Fall Out Boy (3) missed calls.

Kimiko: Second Hottest Person on the Team

Told Frenchie

Annie January: Arm Wrestling Champion

Frenchie said you and Soldier Boy left in a stolen car?

Are you safe?

Hughie Campbell: Not Allowed to Speak On Fall Out Boy

Can you tell Annie you’re home?

She’s losing her mind.

Also Butcher.

He’s mad.

William Butcher: Worst Boss Ever

You and Soldier Boy have a fun joyride?

Fucking call me.

MM and Hughie are heading over to the safe house. Someone’s looking for you.

You blink at the last message. Someone’s looking for you. You swipe the screen, trying to see the time Butcher sent the text, and panic runs through you as you read 9:45 AM.

It’s nearly noon.

You poke Ben, and he grunts, arm around you tightening.

“Ben.” You hiss, shaking him. “Wake up.”

“Fuck off, Sunshine.” He mumbles, and the Feeling is comfortable in your chest.

You push through it. “Benjamin, wake the fuck up.” Nothing. You raise your voice from a hushed whisper. “I’ll burn you again, Pretty Boy, I swear to God.”

That gets him to open his eyes. “Will you never just fucking let me sleep?”

“I think MM and Hughie are downstairs.”

Ben frowns. “Why?”

“Because Butcher texted that they were coming over two hours ago.” You poke him with your foot, and it occurs to you that your legs are a little more tangled than you’d originally noticed. “Can you listen for them?”

“It’s too fucking early, Sunshine.”

“It’s noon.” When Ben only huffs, you give him a pleading look. “Please?”

He groans, closing his eyes. For a second you think he’s just going back to sleep, but he mutters, “Two people downstairs. Can’t tell who.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he makes a low sound from his chest that doesn’t aid your motivation to get up. “Ben, I need to move.”

“Why.” His voice is rough, and makes the Feeling flutter.

“I need to talk to Hughie and MM. They’ve probably been waiting a while.”

“Then they can wait a little fucking longer.”

“Please.” He doesn’t move, holding you tighter. “Ben, you don’t have to up get yourself. You can stay here.”

You feel something run through you—him—that’s taut and almost bitter. Your heart rumbles, and the Feeling wants to sooth the sleepy frown that flashes across Ben’s face, but before you can he’s rolling over, detaching his body from yours.

You hesitate to move, but your phone buzzes with another text that forces your body to roll off the bed.

Marvin Milk: Holder of Incorrect Dr. Dre Opinions

Get your ass up so me and Hughie can fucking leave.

You shuffle unsteadily out of your bedroom and down the stairs, and rubbing your sleep-puffed face in a desperate attempt to pull any lingering sleep from your head. MM and Hughie are sitting stiffly on the couch, looking remarkably uncomfortable as they wait. You clear your throat, and they shoot to their feet in attention.

“Finally,” MM glared at you. “We’ve been waiting for fucking hours.”

You give a guilty cringe, still wiping sleep from your eyes. “Sorry guys, I didn’t know you were here.”

“How did you get home?” Hughie asks tentatively, and you blink at him.

“Ben stole a car. I know I shouldn’t have let him, but-“

Hughie interrupts your apology. “A car?”

“Um. Yeah. Blue Lexus.” You look between their confused expressions. “Is it not outside?”

“No,” Hughie frowns. “Are you sure-“

“Kid, we don’t have time for this.” MM gives Hughie a firm look. “They both got home, no one died, how it happened ain’t our fucking concern right now.” Hughie gives a small nod, and the quiet anxiety on his face sparks concern in your chest.

“What’s going on?” You ask nervously. “Is everyone ok?”

MM sighs. “Everyone’s fine. And we were hoping you could tell us what’s going on.”

You frown, but nod for him to continue. MM takes a large breath, looking at his phone as he speaks.

“Frenchie got a security alert at the Starlight Fund building early this morning. A lady had broken in, and was shouting at the security cams, demanding to speak to someone. We watched her on the cameras for a bit and it sounded like-“ MM clears his throat. “It sounded like she was looking for you.”

The fire starts in your throat, and you barely manage to whisper. “Me?”

“She called you by your name. Your full, legal name. Even got the last name right, not the bullshit one Vought’s been using for press about you and Homelander.”

The fire is against your teeth and under your nails as MM pushes on.

“Said she knew you. You you, not the Anomaly or your Vought persona. Wanted to talk to Starlight about it. Mentioned that Vought wouldn’t give her a straight answer, they kept insisting she had the wrong person, but she knew it had been you at the Firecracker rally.”

Hughie steps in, giving you a pitiful look. “She was really, um, aggressive.” He mumbles. “Made a lot of graphic threats.”

“Kind of sounded like you,” MM adds tightly, watching you carefully. “Looked like you too.”

Your voice is hoarse when you speak. “Do you- do you have a photo?”

MM nods, turning the screen of his phone to you. Your blood is white-hot as you stare at the photo on display. You knew that face. The last time you’d seen it there had been more baby-fat clinging to its cheeks, more light in its eyes, and the hair that had framed it had been longer, but you’d recognize it anywhere. It haunted you.

“Violet,” you breathe out. Your baby sister is frozen in the screen capture MM’s showing you, a crazed, furious expression on her features, teeth bared mid-shout.

MM coughs, and you tear your eyes from the screen. “So you know her?”

You nod heavily. “She’s my sister. Younger. I- I haven’t seen her since before.”

“She said you were dead.” Hughie said softly. “Said everyone thought you’d killed yourself, that they’d found a note but no body. That everyone thought she was going insane, but she knew it was you.”

“Homelander faked my death,” your voice is hoarse, the world is fuzzy and lined with cold something pushing into you. “I even have- Had a grave.”

MM catches your self-correction. “Had?”

“Butcher threw me into it the first night we all met.” You say flatly. “I don’t know if it ever got fixed.”

Both MM and Hughie look apologetic, but you don’t really care. Everything is painful, and you can’t breathe. “You-“ the words struggle out of you, driven by fear for Violet. “You said she talked to Vought?”

“Yeah, but they seemed to either screen her calls or insist she was just grief-stricken and looking for answers where there weren’t any.”

You nod to yourself at Hughie’s words, though they do little to alleviate the fire spreading into your bones and starting to curl in smoke around you. “What did- did you tell her anything?”

“Tell who anything.” Ben’s voice rumbles from behind you, and everything comes into a sharper focus as his arm is pushed into yours. “What the fuck’s going on.”

“This isn’t your problem, motherfucker,” MM snaps. “Piss right the hell off.”

Ben stiffens, and the stone-like protection runs through you.

“I- MM I need-“ You give a tight, strangled cough, not strong enough to fight the Feelings need to lean further into Ben. “Please let him stay.”

MM gives you a disbelieving look, like he might start to argue, but Hughie interjects.

“We haven’t talked to her yet. We wanted to see if you knew her.”

“Will someone tell me who the goddamn hell we’re talking about?” Ben snaps.

MM glowers at him. “Her sister,” he answers coldly. “Lady recognized her from the Firecracker incident. Want to make sure she’s safe.” The last words are sneered, and Ben’s arm wraps around you.

“She is safe-“

MM ignores Ben, looking back at you. “Well?” He says your name in a firm, impatient tone. “What are we telling her?”

You take a deep, heavy breath. “Tell her I’m dead.”

“What?” Hughie stares at you. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am completely fucking serious.” You force your tone to be strong, devoid of emotion. “I’m dead. She should stop looking for me, because I killed myself three years ago.”

“But you didn’t-“

“Hughie.” You snap. “I’m dead. That’s it.”

Ben’s hold on you is almost painful. He’s silent, fingers digging into your side, and you feel his stare piercing through you, feel something strained running through him.

Hughie says your name with forced gentleness, but MM cuts him off.

“You’re sure.”

You nod firmly. “Positive. I’m dead, MM. Please.” Your voice cracks at the end, and your heart starts to claw at your ribs.

“Fine, you’re dead. Let’s go, Hughie.”

“MM, you can’t be fucking serious.”

“Let’s go.” MM gives you one last, unreadable look before he walks into the hall.

Hughie stares at you, looking reluctant to leave, but MM shouts from the exit.

“Hughie, if you don’t haul ass right fucking now, I’m leaving you here.”

Then they’re both gone, and Ben’s hold is the only thing keeping you upright. You stand in silence for a second, your heart roaring in pain, before you pry yourself from Ben and try to move back up the stairs.

You barely make it five steps before he’s grabbing your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“What the fuck was that.”

His voice is too cold, too angry. You’re so tired. “Please, Ben-“

“You’re not fucking dead, Sunshine. Your sister’s fucking looking for you, and you’re going to make those pussies tell her you’re dead?!”

“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, and he scoffs.

“Is this about your stupid fucking ‘protecting them’ shit? That why you’re fucking lying to them?”

“I can’t-”

“They need to know you’re fucking alive,” he says your name with fury lining his voice. “If they care so goddamn much to go looking for you, they fucking deserve it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I fucking do, Sunshine. You did your goddamn hero bullshit, tried to keep your family safe,” Ben’s words are stabbing through your chest. “But it’s too fucking late, so just tell them-“

“No!” You scream, yanking your wrist from his grip. “Shut the fuck up, Ben! You have no fucking clue what I’m trying to do. I’m not on a goddamn fucking high horse about saving them, or any other hero shit! Just shut the fuck up!”

He’s yelling too now, and something is fracturing in your body. “They need to fucking know!” He takes a step forwards. “They fucking deserve-“

“Why do you care so fucking much about this? They’re not your fucking family! You don’t even fucking know them.”

“Because I would fucking want to know!” He roars. “I would go fucking insane and they probably are too!”

The thing isn’t fracturing in your body. It’s split apart, into a million bits and pieces, and your legs give out as all the air leaves your body. It’s too much, it’s all too much, and it’s too late to stop it. You hear Ben shout your name, feel his arms wrap around your body, and all your fury is just pain because you’re so angry at him, but as he carries you up the stairs, no part of you wants to fight him.

Ben sits on the bed, making no attempt to let go. You hold onto him, clinging to his shirt, his smell, the feel of him, the sound of his voice as it hums a familiar tune, and breathing finds a way to no longer be an act of labor.

“I’m-“ you take a shaking breath. “I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing.” He snaps, before taking a heavy breath. “It’s me that should be-“ He coughs, and you pull your head from his chest.

“I’m-“

“Stop, just-“ Ben frowns at nothing. “I need to-“ His jaw clenches, gaze falling to yours for only seconds before he’s glaring at the space above your head again.

“Ben-“

“I’m sorry.” The words sound as if they’re falling out of him, and he's not looking at you. “I’m fucking sorry.”

You watch him glance back down at you, and you try and offer him a small smile. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not-“

“Please,” you whisper. “I don’t, I can’t fight. Please.”

He just grunts, but his hold on you tightens, and you decide that it’s victory.

“What-“ you take another, slower breath. “What happened to the car?”

You watch his lips turn down, and he looks at you from under his eyelashes. “The car?”

“The one we stole.”

Ben gives a dry laugh. “You didn’t do much stealing Sunshine, you just stood there looking pretty.”

You roll your eyes, pushing down the warmth running through you from Ben calling you pretty. “Don’t dodge the question, Benjamin. What did you do with the car.”

He shrugged. “Ditched it a few blocks away. Carried you to the house.”

“How-” you frown at him. “How did you get in the house by yourself?”

“I pay attention, brat. I’m not as fucking stupid as all you pussies think I am. I just damn copied what everyone else does.”

“Oh.” You know that you should probably tell MM or Butcher or Mallory that Ben knows how to work the safe-house entrance—and likely the exit as well—but you don’t want to. Some very stupid part of you, that’s not just the Feeling, trusts him.

“You were really fucking out of it, Sunshine,” he teases. “Clinging to me like a damn baby.”

You feel your face heat. “It was cold.”

“You have fire powers.” He snorts. “Try to lie a little better.”

You pinch him, and he shoots you a fake look of hurt. “Cunt.”

“Brat.” His voice is lighter, and as the room falls back into silence, neither of you make an attempt to let go over each other. He just holds you and when you lean your head onto his chest, you’re soothed by its steady rise and fall, the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

I would fucking want to know. His words echo in your ears. I would go fucking insane.

Guilt is eating you, because ringing over Ben’s shouts are Butcher’s cold words from last night. Nine days.

I would go fucking insane.

Nine days.

This is the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do. But your sister’s face is etched against your eyes when you close them, and think the sound of Ben’s heart might start to haunt your dreams.

Nine days. Butcher’s voice doesn’t stop there this time. He doesn’t know what he was really forgiving you for, does he?

I would go fucking insane.

The right thing. The only thing.

You hold Ben a little tighter, and if he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter back. As you listen to his breathing, feeling the gentle, satisfied hum in your heart, you pray to someone, something, anything at all, that his heart will stay with you the whole way through. That Ben will forgive you when this is over. You don’t think it’s just the Feeling that won’t survive if he doesn’t.

End Note: Me, writing this chapter: god these two really need to fuck (I am completely in charge of when they do and don’t fuck)

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk @artemys-ackles, @a-cup-of-nightshade, @bitchykittenconnoisseur

@fghj18

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

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sailorstarr-chan4 · 7 months ago

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Anime Titles Summarized (Poorly)

Vampire Knight: *insert Twilight joke here* Ouran High School Host Club: *small child voice* There's debauchery here! Sailor Moon: Everyone's bi. No, I mean it. EVERYONE. Clannad: I'm not crying yOU'RE CRYING Your Lie in April: Mommy Issues & Lots of Tissues Fruits Basket: MOMMY ISSUES ON STEROIDS Yuri on Ice: Sexy gay figure skating Sk8 the Infinity: Sexy gay skate-boarding Blue Exorcist: "[Satan] may have been your father, but he wasn't your daddy." FullMetal Alchemist: Family is your best ally Trigun: Family is your worst enemy Kaguya-sama Love is War: Idiots to Lovers the anime The Ancient Magus Bride: What if a monsterfucker romance was also Ace? Violet Evergarden: Gorgeously animated ✨TRAUMA✨ Made in Abyss: Adorably animated ✨TRAUMA✨ Madoka Magica: *Admiral Ackbar voice* IT'S A TRAP! My Hero Academia: X-Men alternative universe where mutants are the majority of the population Yu Yu Hakusho: Yusuke came here to chew bubble gum and kick ass. And he's all out of bubble gum. Inuyasha: Time travel, youkai, and jewel shards, oh my! Ranma 1/2: The original bisexual harem Urusei Yatsura: Crack. Just pure, unadulterated alien crack. MAO: Feral Catgirl x Tired Catboy Tokyo Mew Mew: Cute girl fursonas are named after food Shugo Chara!: His Dark Materials magical girl!AU Kamisama Kiss: The How to Train Your Dragon of shoujo Noragami: Girl adopts homeless god Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle: Eat your heart out, Doctor Who Skip-Beat!: Eat your heart out, slow burn fanfiction Kiss Him Not Me: Losing weight = gaining a harem Baccano!: Murders on the Immortal Mafia Express Cowboy Bebop: Bounty hunters need therapy Attack on Titan: EVERYONE NEEDS THERAPY Alice in the Country of Hearts: The sexiest and unhealthiest escapism Cardcaptor Sakura: Beautiful gay representation, terrible Elephant in the Room Fushigi Yuugi: Look, when I said falling in love with a fictional character, I didn't mean that LITERALLY-- Angel Sanctuary: Mutual incest destroys the world as we know it Guilty Crown: Unrequited incest destroys the world as we know it Zombie Land Saga: The undead as cutesy idols. That's it. That's the show. Yurikuma Arashi: Lesbian bears Princess Tutu: Duck becomes ballerina

Part 2 Here!

#okay I made it 40 titles that's good enough for now lol #maybe I'll do a part 2 later????#Starling ramblings #anime #manga #anime and manga #Vampire Knight #Ouran High School Host Club #Sailor Moon #Inuyasha #FullMetal Alchemist #My Hero Academia #Kamisama Kiss #Noragami #Attack on Titan #Yuri on Ice #parody #funny #200 notes

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dystopic-view · 22 days ago

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Blue eyes and a box of cereal

Gojo x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A chance encounter with Satoru Gojo at the grocery store turns your ordinary day upside down. What starts as lighthearted banter leads to an unexpected first date, where playful tension lingers beneath the surface. As the night unfolds, things take a turn neither of you saw coming

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: fluff, first date, slow burn, tension, chemistry, playful banter, emotional connection, car ride, fancy dinner, first kiss, alternative universe

𝐖.𝐂: 4.4K

You first met Satoru Gojo in the most normal of places.

An aisle in a grocery store.

It was the kind of place where nothing out of the ordinary should happen, but when you saw him for the first time, everything changed.

The sound of conversation and the clatter of shopping carts faded, and all you could focus on was him.

Tall, unmistakably confident, with his snow white hair standing out even under the bright lights of the store.

Despite wearing a clearly expensive dress shirt and pants,, his presence alone drew all the attention.

You weren’t the type to stare at strangers, but something about him drew you in.

Maybe it was the way he casually scanned the shelf of cereal boxes, completely at ease, like there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could bother him.

Or maybe it was his eyes.

Those blue eyes that met yours for a second, catching you by surprise.

They held an intensity that made you feel like you were the only person in the store.

You didn’t realize you were standing in the way until he chuckled softly.

“Are you eyeing the same cereal as me? We’re gonna have to rock-paper-scissors for it,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.

You felt your cheeks warm, suddenly embarrassed for blocking his path. "Oh, sorry!" You moved aside quickly, fumbling with your own basket.

The awkwardness should’ve made you retreat, but instead, you found yourself laughing at the unexpected interaction.

“No need to apologize,” He said, his movements smooth and easy as he grabbed a box from the shelf.

He glanced at it, then back at you. “Which one do you recommend?”

It was such a simple question, but there was a kindness and a gentleness to his tone that made you feel at ease despite your racing heart.

You gave a small smile, gesturing to the box he was holding. “That one’s pretty good if you like sweet things. But if you’re more into healthier stuff, I’d go for something with less sugar.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely interested in your suggestion. “You’re right. I should probably watch my sugar intake,” he mused, though his grin suggested he didn’t care much about that. “But I do have somewhat of a sweet tooth, so I think I’ll stick with the sweet stuff today.”

You smiled at his easy going nature, sensing that beneath his lighthearted exterior was someone who understood the world deeply but chose to approach it with humor and charm. There was something comforting about him, and without realizing it, you found yourself lingering, not wanting to leave this conversation.

He must’ve noticed, because he leaned in just slightly, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Do you shop here often? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

His question caught you off guard.

You nodded, a little flustered by his attention. “Yeah, I come here from time to time. I guess our paths just haven’t crossed until now.”

“Well,” he said, his voice softening as if he were letting you in on a secret, “I’m glad they finally did.”

His words lingered in the air for a moment, filling you with a warmth you didn’t expect.

There was something different about him.

Something that told you this wasn’t just small talk.

It felt like he’d somehow seen straight through to who you were in just those few minutes.

Before you knew it, you were chatting easily about the most mundane things.

Food preferences, favorite places in the city, how you always seemed to end up in the grocery store on your busiest days.

The whole time, Gojo listened intently, making you feel more understood than most people ever did.

As the conversation flowed, you realized that there was something special in the way he interacted with you.

He was thoughtful, always making sure the conversation was about you, never pushing to talk about himself unless prompted.

You could see now that despite his confidence and charm, he had a softness, a care for others that ran deeper than appearances.

It wasn’t about impressing anyone.

It was just who he was.

Eventually, you both found yourselves at the checkout, and a hint of disappointment crept in, knowing this encounter might be coming to an end.

You watched as he bagged his groceries with that same easy smile on his face, and just as you were about to say goodbye, he turned to you with a look that made your heart skip.

“How about we grab dinner tonight?” he asked, casually tossing his bag over his shoulder. His tone was light, but there was a sincerity in his eyes. “I mean, if you’re not too busy.”

You blinked, caught off guard but undeniably flattered.

There was no way you could say no. “I’d like that.”

He grinned, brighter than the lights over you. “Great. Then it’s a date.”

You fumbled for your phone, still slightly dazed by how casually he’d just asked you out.

“Let me give you my number,” you said, your voice a little softer than you intended.

You could feel the excitement bubbling inside, but you tried to keep your cool as you opened up your contacts app.

Gojo’s eyes were on you the entire time, his smile never leaving his face.

When you handed your phone to him, he quickly typed in his number, then handed it back. “There. Now you’ve got me,” he said with a playful tilt of his head.

You smiled at the way he made everything seem so effortless.

“I’ll text you so you have mine too,” you said, your fingers nervously hovering over the screen as you sent a simple, “Hey, it’s me.”

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it with a grin. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up around seven?”

You nodded, still in a bit of disbelief at how smoothly everything was unfolding. “Yeah, seven works.”

“Great, send me your address then” he said, taking a step back, his hand lifting in a casual wave. “I’ll see you tonight.”

As he walked away, you stood there for a moment, clutching your phone tightly.

It all felt a little surreal.

Meeting Gojo in such a random place and now, somehow, having dinner plans with him.

You glanced at the time.

You had a few hours until seven, and as much as you tried to calm yourself, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t settle.

The rest of your day flew by in a blur, your mind constantly drifting back to the way he smiled, the way his eyes seemed to linger on you just a little longer than normal.

Before you knew it, it was time to get ready.

You found yourself standing in front of your closet, second guessing every outfit you considered.

Casual?

Too fancy?

You didn’t want to overthink it, but it was impossible not to.

This was Gojo Satoru, a man who seemed effortless in everything he did, and you wanted to meet that energy.

You settled on a flowy light blue dress, not even realizing it matched the color of his eyes to perfection until you put it on.

Not too fancy, but not too casual either.

After all, you rather be overdressed, than underdressed to the occasion.

By the time seven rolled around, you were ready.

Still nervous but more excited than anything.

Your phone buzzed just as you were giving your reflection one last glance.

It was him.

“Outside :)”

You grabbed your bag and rushed out the door, feeling the cool evening air hit your skin as you spotted him leaning casually against his car, phone in hand, wearing that same easy smile from earlier.

“Right on time,” he said, pushing off the car and opening the door for you. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the nerves from showing in your voice. “Where are we going?”

Gojo gave a mysterious grin as he slid into the driver’s seat beside you. “You’ll see. I’ve got a good spot in mind.”

The car ride started with the soft hum of the engine and the city lights blurring by outside the windows.

You were still trying to process how you ended up here, sitting next to Gojo Satoru, heading to dinner with him.

He was calm as ever, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear shift between you.

"So, do you always take strangers you meet in grocery stores out to dinner?" you teased lightly, trying to break the nervous tension that lingered in the air.

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Only the cute ones," he shot back, casually.

His grin widened when he saw you react, cheeks warming at his flirty tone. "What about you? Do you often go to dinner with guys who ask for cereal advice?"

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his gaze, and replied with a playful glint in your eyes, “Only when they have a charming smile and a good sense of humor. You just barely made the cut.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning back slightly, feigning offense. “Barely? I’ll have to step up my game if I want a second date.”

You laughed, enjoying the banter. “Good luck with that! I have high standards.”

You both fell into an easy rhythm of conversation as the car made its way through the winding streets of the city.

“So,” he said after a brief pause, “What do you do when you’re not researching different types of cereal?”

You chuckled at his playful jab. “Well, I’m actually a florist,” you replied, leaning back in your seat, feeling the familiar excitement of sharing your passion. “I spend my days arranging flowers and helping people pick out the perfect bouquets for every occasion.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “A florist? That’s so cool! You must have an incredible sense of creativity.”

“Thanks! It’s fun to be surrounded by so much color and life. Plus, I love making people happy with flowers,” you said, your voice brightening at the thought. “But it can be a lot of hard work, especially during the wedding season.”

“I can imagine,” he replied, nodding thoughtfully. “Do you have a favorite flower?”

You pondered for a moment. “I’d have to say orchids. I once learned that orchids symbolize eternal love. Because of that they’re typically given to people after the passing of someone close, as a sort of sympathy. I find that beautiful. What about you? Do you have a favorite?”

“Honestly? I’m not that much of an expert on flowers,” he admitted with a grin. “I do love how they brighten up a room, though.”

You laughed, imagining him in a flower shop, trying to navigate the sea of different flowers. “I can picture it clearly. Surrounded by all these flowers, looking completely lost.”

He feigned a look of horror, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. “That’s so mean! I would just be strategically analyzing my options. I’d definitely know the difference between a daisy and a dandelion.”

You both shared a laugh, and the conversation kept flowing naturally.

It felt good to connect with him on such a personal level.

You learned about his interests, his love for teaching, and how he often found himself getting lost in his work.

“So, what do you teach?” you asked, curious.

“High school students,” he replied, glancing over at you. “I try to keep it engaging, but sometimes they’re more interested in their phones than the lesson.”

“I can only imagine the challenge,” you said with a nod. “But I bet you have a way of making it fun.”

Gojo shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. “I try my best. I like to think I have a special talent for it. A little humor goes a long way.”

Just then, as you rounded the corner, the restaurant came into view, and a gasp escaped your lips.

It was a stunning place.

Modern and elegant, with soft lighting spilling out onto the sidewalk.

The ambiance was cozy yet kinda fancy, the kind of place you’d expect to find in a romantic movie.

“Wow,” you breathed, glancing over at him, your eyes wide. “This looks amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice light as he parked the car. “I thought it’d be nice to have a fancy dinner for our first outing.”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words as you both got out of the car. “We didn’t have to go all out like this, but I appreciate it.”

He shrugged, giving you that light hearted grin again. “I just wanted to make sure we had a good time.”

As you entered the restaurant, the soft sound of live music filled the air, and you were immediately enveloped in the intimate atmosphere.

You were led to a secluded table near the back, where you could enjoy the ambiance without feeling overwhelmed by the crowd.

As you both sat down, a subtle tension began to weave through the air.

You could feel it simmering beneath the surface, an ever growing chemistry that had been building since the car ride.

The way Gojo looked at you, the way he leaned in slightly as he spoke, made your heart race just a little faster.

“So, what’s good here?” you asked, trying to break the tension but also genuinely curious about the menu.

“I’ve heard their steak is really good,” he replied, scanning the options. “But I’m a sucker for pasta. I might have to get both.”

You laughed softly. “Living life on the edge, huh? You’re going to need to roll me home if you keep that up.”

He chuckled as he leaned closer, his voice playful. “I’ll carry you if I have to. Wouldn’t want you to get too full for dessert.”

The playful banter made the tension crackle, and you found yourself leaning in too, a teasing smile on your lips. “Dessert is the most important part of the meal, after all.”

As you placed your orders, the conversation continued, flowing effortlessly from topic to topic.

But as the night wore on, you noticed moments of lingering silence where his gaze would hold yours a little longer than necessary.

It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

When the food arrived, the plates were beautifully arranged, making your stomach rumble with anticipation.

As you took a bite of your meal, the flavors melting on your tongue, you noticed a shift in the air.

The comfortable rhythm of your conversation had slowed, leaving pockets of silence that felt heavy, but not awkward.

More like you both knew something was unsaid.

Gojo’s usual carefree smile had softened into something more thoughtful, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass of wine in front of him as he watched you.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” you said, trying to keep the mood light, though you felt the weight of his gaze. “Is the food that good, or are you plotting your next grocery run?”

His lips quirked up at that remark, but his eyes didn’t quite match the playfulness in his tone. “Oh, I’m always planning my next move,” he said, a touch of mystery in his voice. Then, after a beat, he added, “But tonight’s a little different.”

There it was again.

Another shift, the kind that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

You set your fork down, unsure whether you should push him to explain or wait it out.

He didn’t seem like the type to let his guard down easily, yet there was something in the way he was looking at you now, like he was measuring his words carefully before speaking.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, leaning in just slightly, not wanting to break the delicate tension that had formed between you.

Gojo hesitated, his fingers lightly grazing the rim of his glass. “I guess it’s just... rare for me to feel this invested,” he said, his voice still light but with an underlying seriousness that caught you by surprise.

You blinked, feeling a rush of heat rise to your face, not from flattery but from the intensity of the moment. “Invested?”

He nodded, his eyes steady on yours. “Yeah. I like to keep things easy, fun. But tonight…” He trailed off, letting the silence linger between you.

His fingers stilled on his glass, and he leaned forward slightly, his gaze holding yours captive. “It’s not just fun. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words settling in the space between you.

You didn’t know how to respond, the lighthearted banter you’d been relying on earlier now suddenly feeling out of place.

Inappropriate even.

The conversation had taken a turn you hadn’t expected, and you could feel the tension stretching between you like a rubber band, ready to snap.

“Well, I” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

There was a vulnerability between you that felt raw, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to confront it yet.

Instead, you picked up your glass, taking a sip to buy yourself some time.

Gojo watched you closely, his smile softening into something less teasing, more genuine. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said quietly, his voice low. “I just wanted to be real with you. I don’t usually get this caught up so quickly.”

His honesty hit you like a wave, breaking through the playful façade the two of you had been dancing around all night.

You could feel the intensity of his gaze on you, and it made your pulse quicken.

It wasn’t what you had expected, not from someone like him, but there was no denying the sincerity in his eyes.

For a moment, the noise of the restaurant faded away, leaving just the two of you at the table, locked in this unbearably loud silence.

Taking a breath, you set your glass down and looked him squarely in the eye. “It’s a lot to take in,” you admitted softly, your voice steady but your heart racing. “But I don’t think it’s a bad thing either.”

A slow smile crept across Gojo’s face, and he looked almost relieved.

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, his voice dropping a little, his grin turning more mischievous. “Because I was worried I was reading things wrong.”

Gojo’s mischievous grin lingered, but you could see the softness in his eyes as he leaned back, clearly more relaxed after your words.

The tension that had simmered between you throughout the night was still there, but it had shifted into something more subtle, more intimate.

As the meal came to a close, the waiter discreetly placed the bill on the table, and you reached for it instinctively. “I’ll get this,” you said with a smile, grabbing it before Gojo had the chance to react.

He raised an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?”

You nodded, determined. “You went through the trouble of taking me out, so it’s only fair I pay the bill.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers as he watched you with that signature playful glint in his eyes. “It’s cute that you think I’m going to let you pay.”

“I’m serious,” you shot back, pulling out your card. “At least let me pay my half.”

Before you could hand it to the waiter, Gojo’s hand shot out, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist. “You can try, but I’ve already taken care of it,” he said, his grin widening. “I had the bill added to my tab when we ordered dessert.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him, incredulous. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I like to be prepared.”

You shook your head, defeated but laughing. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink, his eyes twinkling as he stood up and motioned for you to follow him. “But I’ll make it up to you by letting you treat me next time. Deal?”

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile. “Next time.”

As you walked out of the restaurant, the cool night air hit your face, and you suddenly

became hyper-aware of the proximity between you two as you made your way back to the car.

Gojo opened the passenger door for you with that same casual ease, waiting until you were settled before getting in himself.

The ride back felt different.

The earlier lightheartedness had shifted again, replaced by a quiet tension that seemed to fill the car.

Neither of you spoke at first, the silence thick but not uncomfortable.

Just heavy, like both of you were waiting for something to happen.

His hands gripped the steering wheel lightly, but you could feel his attention flickering toward you from the corner of your eye.

Finally, Gojo broke the silence, his voice low. “So, did I do okay for a first date? Or do I need to step it up next time?”

You smiled, turning slightly in your seat to face him. “You set the bar pretty high,” you said, your voice teasing but sincere. “But I’m curious to see what you’ll come up with next.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the car. “I like a challenge.”

The conversation faded again, the quiet between you thickening as he pulled up to your apartment.

You suddenly felt a rush of nerves you hadn’t expected as the car came to a stop.

Gojo turned off the engine but didn’t move to get out right away.

Neither did you.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said softly, breaking the silence as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice equally soft but filled with something more.

His gaze was intense, like he was holding back from saying something he wasn’t sure he should.

You hesitated, your hand resting on the door handle as you glanced over at him.

And then, before you could think twice, you pushed open the door and stepped out, the cool air snapping you out of your own head.

Gojo quickly followed, walking you up to your doorstep, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, though his eyes never left you.

When you reached the door, you turned to face him, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the both of you.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling in your stomach.

“I guess this is it,” you said quietly, unsure of how to end the night.

Part of you didn’t want it to be over just yet.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

His gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest second before returning to your eyes. “I’d say ‘see you later,’ but I don’t think I’m ready to leave just yet.”

There was a pause, the tension between you both growing unbearable.

Then, without thinking, you took a step closer, your breath hitching as his hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

His touch was light, careful, but it sent a spark through you.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing, “if I don’t kiss you now, I might regret it.”

Your pulse quickened, your eyes locking with his. “Then don’t regret it.”

That was all it took.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his hand brushing against your cheek as he tilted

your face up to meet his.

His lips hovered just a breath away from yours for what felt like an eternity before he finally closed the distance, his kiss gentle at first, testing, but quickly deepening as the tension between you finally disappeared.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt as he pulled you closer, his thumb brushing softly along your jaw.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, and you found yourself sinking into it, your heart racing in your chest.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, both of you were slightly breathless.

He stayed close, his eyes half-lidded as he whispered, “So… dinner tomorrow too?”

You smiled, still catching your breath, your hands resting on his chest. “I was thinking the same thing.”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “It’s a date, then. And you’re paying, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed softly, still feeling the warmth of his touch. “Goodnight, Gojo.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered, before he turned and walked back to his car, glancing over his shoulder to give you one last smile before disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment longer, watching the taillights of his car fade into the distance. Your heart was still racing, and you could feel the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin.

With a soft smile, you turned the key in the lock and stepped inside.

You sighed quietly, fingers lightly tracing the spot on your lips where his had been.

As you kicked off your shoes and made your way to the living room, your phone buzzed in your bag.

Fishing it out, you saw a new message from Gojo.

“Hope you’re still smiling. Sweet dreams, flower girl”

You couldn’t help but grin at the screen, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

The night had been so unexpected, but somehow, it felt like the perfect beginning.

You typed back a quick reply before curling up on your couch, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

“Still smiling. Sweet dreams, cereal guy”

You set your phone aside, knowing that you’d probably see him again tomorrow.

But for now, the memory of his kiss and the promise of whatever was to come was more than enough to fill your dreams.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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ellaa-writes · 1 year ago

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The Beast Within

author note: Part 1. Part 2 here. I wrote something close to this story on my first blog but I decided to redo it and maybe make it into a series? Anyways Alpha König is back! Alpha König headcanon can be found here. Will help with understanding this König. masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: 18+ only, slightly dub-con/non-con. Kidnapping vibes, Alpha/Omega dynamics. Female reader Mentions of alcohol and blood. Marking/biting. This is an Alternative Universe (which will be expanded). No smut in this but their will be eventual smut. vague mentions of nudity. Not proof read.

This was dangerous but it was exhilarating. The adrenaline coursing through your body gave you the sweetest high. You were in a packed night club somewhere in central Europe. The special blend of herbs and modern day pharmaceuticals that your best friend Kalina gave to you earlier, helping to mask your true identity. You were an Omega, which is very rare in this day and age. And there had to be at least hundreds of Alphas packed into this dimly lit club, bodies grinding on bodies. The musky smell and loud music filling the air.

Your friends got a private table on the 2nd floor, above the dance floor you were currently looking down on. You should be at home, preparing for you next heat that is only a couple of days away. But you've had a rough week at work, wanting nothing more but to feel the buzzing numbness from the alcohol. Turning back to your friends, one of them sliding a shot glass in your direction. Grabbing it and holding it in that air with the others. Bringing it to your lips and savouring the burning liquid. Joining the rest in slamming the small glass back in the table. One of your friends already trying to flag the bottle girl down for another round of shots. You sink was feeling warm and sticky, the alcohol doing its job. You closed you eyes for a second, enjoying the music and the vibration it sent through your body. But there was something else, something different.

It began creeping up your slow spine, goosebumps forming in its path up to the back of your neck. Where it bit down and stung, your reflexes acting out you touched your neck. Trying to find any indication you were bitten, but there was nothing. That strange feeling was sitting heavy in your stomach, it was either the 3 shots and 2 margheritas you had or the world was about to end. You slowly turned back towards the dance floor, but it wasn't down below. It was sitting across, in another private section. His eyes were burning flames of ember staring into you with such a fierceness that it scared you a bit. Your best friend reached out touching your arm which snapped you out of the trance you were in. Bringing you back to your surroundings. She looked at you with concern "You feeling ok?" she began rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You gave her a smile, nodding you head "Yeah, yes... I'm good. Just getting a little warm that's all." you let her know. A few of your friends began cheering when the server brought over another tray of shots. Making you and her to laugh, joining in and grabbing the glass from the tray before it was lifted away." Hold on, wait up. I just wanted to say, that I love you all so much and let's all hopefully get laid tonight. Alright, good!" Meave said, she was the oldest out of your group. Her gorgeous red hair danced around her shoulders while she did her speech, looking right into your eyes when she mention getting laid. Which made you blush, feeling a little embarrassed that she even said that. But it wouldn't be true to Meave. Her and Kalina are cousins, after meeting Kalina in year 1 you three became inseparable. "Oh don't listen to her babe." another one of your other friends whispered into your ear, making you giggle. You took the shot, setting the glass back down. You all but almost forgot about the stranger staring you down. But another stinging bite at the base of your neck, making you jump and yulp out of shock. Kalina and Maeve looking at you with concern. "I think something bit me" you yelled out, making a few of them laugh. You didn't notice it, when Kalina found the same eyes you saw earlier. The same uneasy feeling washed over her, she knew what he was. She could feel the power radiating off of the Alpha, but he wasn't just any ordinary Alpha. He was an Apex Alpha, she knew you were in danger. Apex Alphas were stronger than a normal Alpha, not just in psychical strength but mentally too. Their senses highented, making them damn nearly a God. At one point in history they were viewed as the closest thing to a demi-God, many believing they were the most special, having the blood and DNA of the gods running through them.

She grabbed you arm quickly standing up and pulling you up with her. Laughing you asked her "What's going on" trying to balance in the heals that Meave borrowed to you. "We need to go, like right now." she began pulling you towards the stairs, ignoring the calls from the others. She lead you down the steps, through the bodies and to the entrance of the club. "Hold up, Kalina. What the hell is going on." you tried pulling back, to slow her down but her grub only got stronger while she dragging through the exit and out onto the street. "Hey Kalina, talk to me." you tried getting in front of her. Trying to get her attention, but Kalina was in flight mode. Searching the street for any sign of taxi, when she found one she marched right over with you still in tow. Banging in the front passenger window, catching the driver off guard. "Are you running?" she asked quickly, the driver bossing his head and unlocking the door. "Hurry, get in. Quickly." she said while opening the back seat door and shoving you in. "Kalina what the fuck is going on." you asked while she closed the door. Reaching for the window down button. "Please get home and lock up immediately. I'll tell you later." she told you. She then went back to the front window and gave the driver your address before he quickly pulled away from the street and towards the direction of your small apartment.

You sat in the back seat, confused and starting to feel sick. The alcohol turning into bricks in your stomach.

Kalina watched has the taxi drove away, praying you'd get home safe and listen to her and lock up. Hoping that the Alpha would lose your sent. She turned back towards the club, noticing the Alpha storming out. His nose high in the air, sniffing you out. His eyes snapped towards her, her own fear taking over. She should have gotten in the car with you, but now she's in the path between a angry honey alpha and sweet omega pussy. She always pittied you, when you were young and coming into puberty. She could smell the changes happening to you, they were different than hers. She was a simple beta, but you became an omega. She knew the rarity of it, she also knew the risk of began one. Many of the omega being snatched up, nothing more than breeding machines to produce more alphas, female or male. She began helping you mask your smell at a young age and disguising yourself as a beta.

Sticking her head up high and ignoring the heated look he was giving her. She began to make her way back inside, but not before being pulled to the side by a pair of very thick solid fingers. The alpha had her corned, looking down at her. His nostrils flaring with anger, his chest rising and falling. He was trying to control himself, trying to push the animal that was inside him down. "Where is she." he said in between breaths. Kalina yanked her arm back "None of your business, now will you please excuse me." she began to move past the alpha but he grabbed her again. "Get off me." she yelled. Causing the bouncer and a few others to look in their direction. "You can't hide her forever." he called out to Kalina as she disappeared back inside. She hoped he was wrong.

You made your way inside you one bedroom apartment. Closing the door and locking in behind you. Your feet were sore and your head felt heavy. Walking into your kitchen to grab and glass of water. Standing in the dark, debating if you should wash your face or deal with the consequences in the morning. Refilling the glass you slowly walked to your small bathroom, turning the light on which made you wince. Pulling your hair back and using your expensive cleanser, one of the few things you splurge on. You found yourself kicking off the heals and peeling the tight dress you hand on off and falling into your bed. Only wearing the silky panties you had on, pulling the blankets down and over your body. Sleep found you quickly, drifting off into dreamland.

You woke a few hours later to what sounded like banging. You sat up in your bed, the blanket having fallen to your hips. Your tits out in the open, the air was cold causing your nipples to perk up. Listening in the dark for anymore noises and not hearing anything else you laid back down. Snuggling into your pillow, ready to fall back to sleep. But you heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. Your eyes snapped open, every hair on your body standing straight up. The same stinging from earlier made its way to the base of your neck again.

You instinctively reached out to your phone, but before you could full grab it. It was thrown across the room and you were flipped over on your back. The blanket that was covering your chest now on the floor. Thick hard fingers found themselves around your throat. The same burning ember eyes from the club were looking down at you. You didn't get a good look at him before, but you could see him clearly now. He was massive, not only in size but also in height. His head had to be nearly touching the ceiling. He was looking at with with such intense lust, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "I found you." was all he said before he removed his hand from your throat and brought his mouth to replace it. You could feel his hot breath fanning out over you jaw and down your chest. He pushed his nose into the vein that ran down the side, lightly licking its trail down to your crease were you neck net your shoulders. He paused a bit before he opened his jaw and bit down hard. Causing you to screaming and thrash, trying to push this gaint off of you. The trance you were in breaking and the panic and fear consuming you. Your screams got louder before his hand found its place over your mouth. "Shhh, darling. It's ok, I found you. Your safe now." he whispered into the side of your temple. Having released your neck, you could feel the blood drip down your back and onto the sheets below you. You began feeling dizzy, your vision getting blurry. He was still cooing into your temple, lightly kissing it and brushing his free hand over your hair. Trying to easy your fear and pain. You were stronger than he thought, fighting his trance once again. Once he felt you go limp in his arms, he let you go. Moving towards your closet, pulling out a shirt to cover you up with. He needed to cover you up, he knew if he didn't he would lose control. The beast in him still snarling and growling to get out.

#könig #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #konig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #könig x reader #konig x reader #König au #Alpha König #modern warfare 2 #a/b/o dynamics

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porcelainseashore · 2 months ago

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Coffee & Secrets (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: The biggest heartfelt thank you to my friends @alibellerosetta and Cameron who beta’d this fic + all those who reached out and supported me in DMs! ❤️ P.S. There may be spoilers for Coffee Talk ahead, so read at your own discretion.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: Arrival

September 30, 1998. It was heavy rain and howling winds, but your shop was still open, like a beacon of light in the darkness. A flash of lightning and a high beam panned across the window. The rumbling sound of an engine came to a halt.

Could that be your first customer of the day?

Your question was answered when a young, red-haired woman in a matching leather jacket burst through the front door, triggering the welcome chime that signaled a new arrival. She was drenched like a drowned rat, helmet tucked under her arm as she made her way over to the counter tentatively, her eyes darting back and forth at the empty space before her.

“Hey, uh, you’re open, right?”

“Of course.” Your smile was genial and bright, but not scorching—mellow like the midnight sun in a starless sky. “What would you like, miss?”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders loosening as she placed her helmet on the counter until it appeared as if she remembered something. Looking back, her gaze followed the trail of dirty puddles she had left in her wake. Water pooled from her soaked boots as she gave you a sheepish grin. “Um, sorry.”

You waved it off with a laugh. “Apologize when you can control the weather.” Grabbing a couple of tea towels from the nearby rack, you handed it to her. “Here, why don’t you dry off while I fix you something to warm up with?”

She thanked you profusely as you got to work, concocting up a special blend of frothy hot chocolate with milk, honey, rosewater, and a touch of cinnamon. The pattering of rain from the outside complemented the chill lo-fi soundtrack you had put on in the background.

Sliding the glass over the surface of the table, you placed it in front of her. “Your Turkish Delight, miss.”

“Claire,” she offered. “Just call me Claire.”

As she brought the steamy drink to her lips, her eyes widened, like something had caught her by surprise.

“Mmm, wow,” she sputtered. “This is—”

“Good?”

“Really good!” she corrected, as she gulped the rest down enthusiastically.

At that moment, the door chime tinkled again, and another stranger strolled in, attempting to brush away the droplets from his clothes in vain. Running a hand through his slick blonde bangs, his piercing blue eyes fell upon the two of you like a deer in the headlights.

“Uh, um…” he stammered, only to shake his head in response at his own fumbling as he cleared his throat to try again. “Do you mind if—”

But you were already there, holding out another towel before he could even blink.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” The corners of his mouth curled into a shy smile as he took the towel from your hands gratefully.

“You better leave her a good tip!” Claire hollered from where she sat as he chuckled and raised his hands in mock resignation.

“And what can I get you, mister?”

“Leon.”

“Hmm?”

He stuck out his hand, greeting you with an air of innocence and genuineness. “I’m Leon.”

You shook hands and introduced yourself before he would reveal his order. “Just a coffee, nothing fancy.”

“Coming right up,” you called out over your shoulder, a knowing look cast across your face.

As you prepared a pot of black filter coffee, you overheard your two customers exchanging a few words.

“You from Raccoon City?”

“Nah, I’m just here for a few days to visit my brother. Lemme guess, you’re not from around here either?”

“Not really, well, not yet. I mean, I was supposed to start my first day at the RPD—”

“Wait, today? Have you seen the time?”

“I know, I know… I got delayed. Add the insane weather and I’m still trying to work out the directions on this map.”

“Well, rookie, you’re in luck. My brother’s part of S.T.A.R.S., so I could lead you to the station when the weather clears up a little.”

“Rookie? Really?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a cup, you served it to Leon, who had just accepted Claire’s offer, despite his slight hesitation. “Your nothing fancy coffee.”

He snickered, locking eyes with you for a split second before taking a sip. Tension eased from his brows as he closed them shut, sighing blissfully into the cup. “It’s—”

“Really good?” Claire suggested, finishing his sentence from him.

He nodded and pursed his lips, finishing the rest of the drink in a couple of mouthfuls. Gesturing towards Claire’s empty glass, he stated, “I’ll get hers too.”

As he fished out a couple of crumpled bills, you stopped him, instinctively placing your hand over his when he tried to slip them over. His eyes flickered at your touch, but he did not pull away, waiting patiently for your response.

“On the house,” you clarified.

“What? No,” Claire protested as she motioned to the empty seats around her. “How’s your shop gonna survive like this?”

“I’ll manage,” you shrugged before peering out through one of the side windows. “Seems like the rain’s lightened up.”

“We’ll be back,” Leon promised, his gaze stoic and sincere, as he dragged the chair out under him, preparing to leave. Claire did the same.

As the door chime tinkled for the final time that evening, he paused abruptly, popping his head back in to ask, “When are you open?”

At this, you let out a smile. “Only at night.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #coffee shop au #re2 leon #re2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #fic: coffee & secrets #porcelainscribbles

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shinidamachu · 4 months ago

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inukag was born to be shipped by me and I was born to ship inukag as well

For ages now I've been meaning to write about the reasons why I ship Inukag as fervently as I do and @inukag-week felt like the perfect opportunity to indulge myself, so here we go.

I want to start with how aesthetically pleasing they are. From their perfect size difference to the complimentary color scheme of their outfits plus contrasting hair and eye colors, Inuyasha and Kagome just look absolutely good together.

Their character design makes it clear from the get go that they're visually a great match. The association is so strong that the audience becomes unable to picture one without the other, as if they're two halves of the same item. Different, yet unequivocally a team, a pair.

Decades ago, they already had that classic quality to them and I bet they'd never get out of style even decades from now. And the rich lore that surrounds the pairing only adds to that aesthetic: the well, the tree, the beads, the robe, the sword, all of it enhances how iconic they are. Even something as ordinary as star gazing becomes uniquelly theirs.

Futhermore, I just absolutely love the entire concept of it. The subvertion of the fairy tale archetype, the idea of a love that transcends time, of soulmates who actually work on building their bond. Loving each other was both inevitable and a choice they made every single day.

Inuyasha and Kagome were just two teenagers from different worlds — literally and figurativelly — discovering together what love was. This made their relationship very compelling, because the excange between them is insanely substancial.

And their overall dynamic is so wholesome. There was a push and pull, a give and take, that made it fluid rather than static. Every single milestone felt organic and kept the audience thirsting for the next one.

Nothing felt forced or rushed. The slow burn was competently written to showcase their relationship being build on a very strong foundation, consistent in intimacy, mutual trust and acceptance — recurring themes for them and for the story — and so the stages of their bond had such a natural pace, it highlighted how genuine and healthy it was.

Consequently, there are so many aspects of their connection to explore. There's a never ending room for angst and for light hearted moments and you can adopt a more mature perspective or go for comical instead: they manage to be versatile without being generic and to embod the best clichés in fiction without becoming one themselves.

It's hard to think of a trope they couldn't pull off or an alternate universe that doesn't work for them. It gives the fandom plenty of freedom to be creative and to have the best time with it.

Plus, their chemistry was off charts. The romantic tension bleed through every single interaction. Their passion is so strong you could feel it even in scenes that had nothing to do with romance. And they didn't even need to kiss to achieve that level of synchrony.

They were also compatible. Inuyasha and Kagome balance each other quite nicely. Even in a relationship, they still keep their individualities and remain interesting both as characters and as a ship.

The very thing that dooms most pairings — opposite personalities — is precisely what keeps them together. Inuyasha and Kagome are completely different from each other, but they're actually extremely similar where it actually matters: their morals and goals.

And they longer they stay together, challenging one another, growing through trials and tribulations, inadvertently learning what each other's needs are and fulfilling them, easing each other's sorrows, covering each other's backs, saving each other's lives in every possible way, learning each other and learning with one another, the more their dichotomy turns into a duality, because they gain a more nuanced perspective of themselves, of each other and of the world.

It's a level of understanding, closeness and respect incredibly difficult to match. And for Inuyasha and Kagome, no one else even came close.

Another thing is that they're not just complementary to each other, but to the story itself. Their romance enhaces the overall plot. It has a structural placement in the wider narrative, strengthening its core themes and fulfilling the characters individual arcs, ultimately resulting in a more compelling journey.

So many romances are disposable to their own story, but Inukag was detrimental to theirs. Inuyasha and Kagome's interactions served as pivotal points of their respective arcs. Taking only the narrative into consideration, their relationship holds a lot of weight and greatly influenced everyone around it and it tied everything together.

That's why their happy ending felt so satisfying: it feels earned because everything went full cycle. All of that symbolism, all of those parallels paid off. Anything different from what we got would simply lack narrative and thematic cohesion.

And even if they didn't end up together, they could never be circumstancial. There was a real reason why they met, a reason why the fell in love and why they had ever lasting impacts on each other's lives regardless. It wasn't just love for love's sake.

This is what makes them, in my opinion, an epic ship.

BONUS: their soundtrack is lit and their quotes are simply legendary.

#Inukag Week #Inukag Week 2024 #Kagome #Inuyasha #Inumeta #Inukag meta #Inuyasha meta #Inukag #Kagome Higurashi #Excuse the dramatic title I just couldn't help myself

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enoughtotemptme · 17 days ago

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a year and a day

Everyone knows that if you want to make a deal, you go to Eddie Munson.

Desperate to be rid of Jason once and for all, Chrissy makes a deal with the local demon. The consequences are…not what she expected. A story of friendship, love, and paying one’s debts.

Chapters: 1/13 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationship: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Demon Deals, POV Chrissy Cunningham, Friendship, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Found Family, Roommates, Domestic Fluff, 1990s, Caretaking, Pining

Chapter One: June

Everyone knows that if you want to make a deal, you go to Eddie Munson.

---

It takes until the rehearsal, when Jason says, “I do” with a look on his face of complete and utter triumph, that Chrissy realizes, quite suddenly, that she doesn’t think she wants to do this.

“And do you, Chrissy Elizabeth Cunningham,” the pastor drones in the echoing hall of the church, “take this man, Jason Harrison Carver, to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death do you part?”

She’d told him she didn’t want obey in the vows. He’d argued that it was traditional, and he wanted to get married with the same vows both of their parents had.

“Angel. Chrissy.”

Chrissy swallows hard, words sticking in her throat as Jason prompts her. The smile on his face doesn’t disappear, but his eyes grow flinty. His hands start to hurt on hers.

“I…” she manages with a wince, but the rest still refuses to come out.

“Chrissy!” her mother hisses from the front pew; her face, when Chrissy glances over, is rapidly turning the color of the inside of a watermelon. Her father looks uneasy, and her brother is glancing between all of the adults with confusion written all over his face.

Jason turns his broad, All-American grin on the pastor and says in a jocular tone, “A little nervous. All brides are, right? Excuse us for a moment.”

He drags her into the storage room off the side of the hall, where boxes of communion wafers and industrial-sized pallets of juice crowd the walls.

“What the hell, Chris?” he demands, shutting the door with a small slam that belies the calm he’d been showing to the others.

“I—I’m not sure that…” Chrissy winces again, tugging at her hand. “Jason, stop. That hurts.”

He doesn’t let go. His grip only grows tighter, squeezing until it feels like her bones are grinding against one another.

“What the hell do you mean, not sure? We’ve been waiting for this for four years. I’ve been waiting for you for four damn years,” he hisses, conveniently ignoring the fact that, while he was ‘waiting,’ he’d enjoyed the company of all kinds of other women. He hadn’t exactly made a secret of it, calling on the phone only a few months into her freshman year to confess and announce all in one breath that a guy has needs, Chrissy, angel; you understand.

Chrissy had been more discreet about her own needs, though she hadn’t allowed herself to give much thought as to why she’d kept it from Jason.

“I know,” Chrissy says. “I know that, it’s just—I really don’t like the vows, Jason. I told you that.”

He scoffs. His blonde hair is perfectly parted, not one strand out of place. He has a Ken-doll perfection that she’d always found appealing, but now it’s at odds with the puce color he’s gaining in his face.

“It’s just words, Chrissy. I told you we should do the traditional ones and you agreed!”

“No,” she says, “I didn’t. Words matter, Jason, and—”

“Why does it matter?” he interrupts, stepping closer still. Her wrist and hand are aching; his cologne, usually pleasant, begins to make her nauseous as he puts every inch of their height difference toward making her feel small. “You and me, we’ve always been on the same page. It shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“If I’m going to promise something, I want to feel comfortable with it—”

“Then hurry up and get comfortable,” Jason snaps. “They’re the vows we’re using. I’m the man, and you’re the wife, and this is what we’ve been waiting all this time for.”

In the traditional vows, the man doesn’t vow to obey the woman. He promises instead to worship her. It sounds laughable to her now. Vow or no vow, he’ll never worship her.

Chrissy looks into the eyes of Jason Carver, the man she’d said yes to four years ago when it had felt romantic to promise her future to her high school boyfriend.

Even knowing they’d have to spend the majority of her undergraduate degree states apart, she’d felt so adult and worldly, going off to college engaged. True, they’d talked less and less as the semesters progressed—they’d talked on the phone every week, at first, and then every other, and then once a month until they only spoke when they saw each other in Hawkins on school breaks.

But Chrissy’s future marriage to Jason was part of the facts of her universe: psych paper due on Tuesday, and she’s going to marry Jason after graduation. Avoid the inedible dining hall meatloaf, and she’s going to marry Jason after graduation. Bring James or Brian or Katie home for the night, and she’s going to marry Jason after graduation.

It was so inevitable a truth that it seemed inconsequential, the way you know an orange falling from a tree will land on the ground but you’re hardly going to worry about gravity.

Until you’re the one falling, that is. And that’s what it had felt like, ever since graduation. Chrissy had come back to Hawkins and squeezed herself into her old life like it was a dress a size too small—church on Sundays, stingy dinner plates and comments about the freshman fifteen, wet mouth on her neck and a cool, clammy hand clamped possessively around hers—and spent the last month feeling that sickening rush in her stomach. Like she’d been on an elevator falling from the hundredth floor, waiting for impact.

In the space of a single breath, Chrissy finally understands why.

She can’t marry him.

But when she looks into the eyes of Jason Carver, sees the rage narrowing them and feels the punishing grip his fist still has around hers, she knows, deep in her bones, that he’ll never let her go.

“You’re right,” Chrissy says eventually, the words tasting sour. “I’m just…nervous. But you’re right. We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“Good. Jeez, Chris. Couldn’t you have gotten the hysterics over with before the damn rehearsal? What, are you PMSing or something?” Jason grumbles, but his hackles are coming down and his grip is growing looser.

She bites her tongue, then makes herself say, “Maybe that’s it. It is close to that time of the month.”

He grimaces, then pulls her back toward the door. “Come on. You’ve already caused a scene; let’s get this done.”

Bracing herself with a deep, silent breath while his back is turned, Chrissy goes back out into the church, pastes a smile on her face in front of the pastor, and says, “I do.”

Then, as the rehearsal wraps up and their families filter out of the church to drive to Enzo’s for the dinner, she places her right hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmurs in his ear.

“I think you were right about the PMS. I’m having a feminine issue,” Chrissy tells him. Her hand is still red; the marks will deepen to a bruise by tomorrow. “I need to run to the store for some stuff. Drop me off and I’ll meet you at Enzo’s?”

He rolls his eyes and tugs her up against him for a kiss. “Told you. Hurry up, Chris.”

She smiles at him, pecks him on the lips one more time. “I will.”

On the street a block over from Melvald’s, Chrissy shuts the passenger door and waves cheerfully as he drives on, then walks down the sidewalk toward the cross street that would take her to the general store. She listens to the roar of the engine, the gradual dissipation of sound as Jason drives the opposite direction to Enzo’s.

The second she rounds the corner, she’s running for the woods.

[click here to read the rest of chapter one on ao3]

#hellcheer fic #hellcheer fanfic #eddissy fic #eddissy fanfic #hellcheer #stranger things #enoughtotemptme writes fic #yes hello it's been a while here is a story #i have been working on this for LITERAL years #yes eddie is a demon no not much else has changed #over two years ago the very first line popped into my head and then this happened

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the-really-lonely-mountain · 5 months ago

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To Erebor - Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol

Word Count: 4,758

A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kili’s hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure it’d gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and tenderly ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little schoolgirl. You regretted having to remove yourself from his warm embrace, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day. A much easier task now that you didn’t have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you woke Kili.

He stretched his arms above his head then his eyes popped open, “Good morning!”, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.

“Good morning!” You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, “Start packing, Bombur’s almost finished breakfast.”

He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the last half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.

The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kili’s animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.

The day’s walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.

By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you weren’t listening, too focused on Kili’s hand in yours as he led you somewhere.

The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.

Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest just behind their family house, so he didn’t hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didn’t say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didn’t know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of arm’s punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadn’t really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on out of habit while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.

Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the day’s walk, you were as prepared as you could be. And excited as ever. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.

He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldn’t move it. You looked at Kili.

“Just pull it back Y/N.” He encouraged, with a proud little smile.

“I am, Kee,” you said still straining to pull it. It wouldn’t budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrong—Ah! He got it!

“Here, let me help.” He came up and stood behind you. “The draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,” he said into your ear, his low hushed tone not going unnoticed as he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked god he was behind you and couldn’t see your bright red face.

He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.

“And…” he made sure you were ready, “Release.”

You both let go of the string at the same time.

“Perfect! Now let’s try it with an arrow” He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.

You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.

“Ready…” You said to him this time, “Release!”

The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye.

“No way,” Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved center circle of the tree.

“That’s amazing Y/N!” He turned to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.

“I want to try again!” You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didn’t hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.

“Awe,” you pouted, “I rushed, next time I’ll take my time.” You went to grab another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.

When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.

You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right.

Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.

“Was that a bullseye on the first shot?!” Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.

“Aye!” You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didn’t even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.

“Good job lass!” Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.

After all that training, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They weren’t in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.

‘They couldn’t have fallen out’ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.

You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.

You couldn’t say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. Your anger evident from your expression, the camp fell silent as you walked to Kili.

That feeling in Kili’s chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew he’d gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.

“Y/N wait—” he tried to follow you into the field.

“NOT NOW KILI” you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didn’t quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kili’s self-inflicted misfortune.

You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.

When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “It was just supposed to be a joke, honest,”

“Joke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldn’t have gone through my stuff!” You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. “You violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said in a regretful voice you’d never heard from him before. “I shouldn’t have gone through your bag.”

You sighed and looked over at him. “I forgive you Kee,” You took another deep breath, satisfied he’d learned his lesson, “Just don’t do it again, ok?”

He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, “I won’t, I promise”. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You gave him a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.

He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. You’d been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since you’d sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.

“I’ll braid them into your hair!” You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.

“What?! No!” he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if you’d jump on him any second like his brother might. “Why don’t I put them in your hair instead? They’d look much better on you.” He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking he’d have to endure if he agreed to your plan.

You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “Pussy,” you said.

He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, “I am not a pussy!” He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, “I just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.”

You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from a more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids he’d done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, “Alright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.”

“Deal!” He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.

You didn’t realize how tight he’d made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.

“Does that feel good, princess?” He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to react to the pet name.

Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.

You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear. It felt like you were floating, your body sun warmed and peaceful.

When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly pulling you from your lovely state of mind.

“Kili wouldn’t let me put flowers in his hair.” You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.

“Even after he rummaged through your bag!” Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.

“Shut up, Fili” Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.

“Awe, Kiwi’s embawwassed,” you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.

Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.

You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.

“Good gods you two,” Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. “Get a room,” Fili finished his statement.

“Shut up, Fili,” you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.

“Here’s your brush, Y/N.” Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, thank you” You took it from him and hastily returned your bag to camp. You met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kili’s area of expertise).

Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.

When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.

You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.

Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.

Kili came back wondering what the commotion was about.

He saw you waiting for him. You hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair he’d just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead framing your face. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.

‘Two can play that game’ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.

You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered at his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were challenging you.

“Ohho, it’s serious now, is it?” you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.

“Oh, it sure is.” He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.

You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since you’d felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.

If Thorin hadn’t said, “Ready positions”, in that barking tone of his, you’d have jumped Kili’s bones and rode him off into the sunset.

You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted ‘Commence’ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like you’d been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.

“Good job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.” He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.

“I’ve been taught well, Archer.” You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.

“We’ll see about that, Ibinê,” he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.

You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.

“Ibinê?” You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. “What does that mean?”

Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadn’t yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and spun around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.

He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, “If only it were you straddling me,” he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.

“We have a victor!” someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away.

You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips and a casual glance over your shoulder enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you. You looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned over to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, “Ibinê means my gem.” His words took a moment to register, a delayed blush colored your chest and neck.

He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours. He picked up speed till he was running with you trailing behind. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors that only dusk and dawn brought.

Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.

“Labathmizi means I adore you.” He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. “Abnâmulzi means you are beautiful.” He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. The prolonged eye contact was making you pant. His voice was low and rough with arousal, “Azralizi du-nâmrul, Ibinê…” His head ducked down so his lips brushed against yours. “…means I want to fuck you, my gem.” He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand went from your hip to your thigh, an encouraging movement, and it felt like it was searing into your cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses at the nap of his neck. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.

When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, “That’s really hot” was all you could manage.

You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you. When he broke away, he looked at you, panting.

He suddenly went silent and perfectly still. His eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion as he looked past the tree you were pinned to. This immediately concerned you.

You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes and turned his head to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.

His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.

You clung to him as he broke out in a sprint back to camp, “A pack of orc’s are coming.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan

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wangxianficfinder · 6 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

May 22nd

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1. Wanting to find a modern AU. The one scene I recall was in a parking lot, I think: the Jiangs are confronting WY, who had been at a party with LZ, possibly in order to see JYL. JC finds out about the sacrifice WY made for him. It was something to do with college tuition money this time around. Possibly YZY and WY both let the others think WY left of his own accord? @linderel

FOUND! 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending) could be near the end

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2. hello i am looking for a fic where wex was adopted into the wen sect. the scene i remember most is when wwx used a talisman to flatten himself so he can get through a door. id appreciate all the help thank you so much ♥️

FOUND! Communal Child-Rearing and Other Diplomatic Necessities by Elpie (Horribibble) (T, 4k, WangXian, LQR/WRH, Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Accidental Baby Acquisition)

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3. for the next fic finder, can someone help me with a oneshot sickfic i have been finding for too long ;; i think the main premise was ljy pushing wwx into a pond bc he was upset, and so wwx got unwell (and didnt tell anyone?) thank you for the hard work!

FOUND? Some Days. by jollytortoise (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Shock, Horror)

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4. Hello! I'm looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian returns back from the dead in Mo xuanyu's body but he lost all his memories. He doesn't remember his name or any of the events of the past. He is saved by Lan zhan and the juniors as soon as he wakes up and they take him to Gusu where he lives and falls in love with Lan zhan. Lan zhan also falls in love with him but he is conflicted beacuse he feels like he's betraying wei wuxian. In the end, he remembers and they get together.

FOUND? Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

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5. hi!! for the next fic finder — im looking for a wlw wangxian one where lwj was a cultivator(?) who sailed the ocean looking for resentful energy(??) (i dont remember) and one day she picks up mermaid wwx. i dont remember much other than wwx getting dry and turning into human, staying on her boat, and being curious about her own human anatomy which leads to lwj fucking her in every surface available. it Has plot. please help 🥺🥺🥺🫶🫶🫶

FOUND! 💖 splash;; by defractum (nyargles) (E, 11k, wangxian, F/F, modern cultivation, Gender Changes, Merpeople, Humanfucking, the opposite of monsterfucking, Rule 63)

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6. FF request! This is a modern au. I think wwx, lwj, lxc, nmj, nhs and maybe also jc, jyl, jzx, wq and wn, go on some sort of vacation under the excuse of night hunting. They finish a night hunt really quickly and then nmj (as the oldest and only sect leader?) is basically like, I don't care what you guys do, this is my vacation. They're all staying in the same house and divide into rooms by couple. Any ideas are much appreciated! Thank you!

FOUND? 🔒 Night Hunts and Getaways by Netrixie (T, 7k, LXC/NMJ, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JC/NHS, WWX & LXC, NHS could be a criminal mastermind, if he really wanted to, but he uses his powers for good, the plot exists merely for LXC to get some dick, so don't think too hard about it, Modern Cultivation, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, LXC centric, treating canon with gleeful irreverence, ships other than nielan are background, Attempt at Humor) It's part of a series.

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7. Hi! This is for Fic Finder. ☺️

I'm trying to find two fics. I don't remember much, unfortunately.

A) It's a time travel in which WWX comes back in time and go to visit WQ to convince her that he is from future and both make a long term plan to eliminate all the "bad guys".

B) It's also a time travel, but this time WWX is found by the Wens and is raised with the heirs of WR. The scene I remember quite well is one in witch LWJ is fighting with one of the Wen heirs (don't remember who, not WQ or WN) and when the Wen is going to attack LWJ, he sees the red ribbon that WWX gifted to LWJ. This means that LWJ is WWX's love (and fiance maybe?) so the Wen decided not to attack LWJ and it's killed.

I hope you can help me, thanks for everything!

🥰💕 @wangxiansgirl

7A)

FOUND? Here With Me ‘verse Series by iamwish (T/G, 80k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, wwx turns this into a no war!au, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator, Character Death, Blood and Gore, BAMF WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, there’s some elements of, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, POV JYL, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death)

FOUND? We'll Build A Dynasty (one the heavens can't shake) by One_eyed_God (T, 66k, WangXian, canon typical Jiang family dynamics, BAMF WWX, Canon JC Characteristics, POV Outsider, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, WWX is a Wen, Sect Leader WWX, Genius WWX, The Casual Intimacy of Hand-Holding, Minor ChenLi, Not JC Friendly, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It)

7B)

FOUND? When Flowers Spring from Killing Things by windsweptice (B0redaf) (Not rated, 100k, wangxian, Wen WWX, Demonic Cultivation, WWX Has No Golden Core, he's got a resentful one instead, Yīn Iron, WRH pov, LWJ pov, WWX pov, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Sentient Burial Mounds, XY Is A Little Shit, WQ pov, Protective WWX, Protective WQ, Cinnamon Roll WN, Protective WN, LXC pov, BAMF WWX, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WN, BAMF WQ, Good Person WX, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Weddings) the scene with the ribbon being spotted is in Chapter 18

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8. Hi so I'm trying to find a podfic that I listen to few years ago I don't remember a lot about it but I do remember that wei ing wen ing and wen qing went to his nephew's naming ceremony or birthday I forget and Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian we're alive and there for their grandson's naming ceremony or birthday and I remember that madam yu come up to wei ing and took his wrist and like looked if he had a golden core she was like I don't know how she reacted but she respected him because he gave his golden cord to his little brother and like I don't know much I can't remember much but I do remember there was a scuffle and all that I'm just trying to find this podfic if you can find it please tell me if you can't well at least you tried @constancebloodstone

FOUND? seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst)

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9. Hello! For fic finder: I am looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian was cursed to lie / say the opposite of what he truly thought. But everyone thought he was cursed to tell the truth, so when he says all kinds of horrible things to people they believe him thinking that he has been compelled to say what he really thinks of them. The curse is only broken after people realize he is lying (not truthing). Wei Wuxian then has a series of conversations with the various characters as he reassures them that he was lying and that he didn’t mean whatever he said. He also has some angst about how people so easily thought the worst of him / believed his lies. This plot is so clear in my head but I just can’t find it in my ao3 history! Please, can anyone find this? Thank you in advance <3 <3

FOUND? A Kiss of True Love to break a Curse by Wangxian101 (T, 5k, WangXian, Teenage Wangxian, Not Canon Compliant, kiss of true love, curse of lies, truth curse, Angst, Fluff, When the only way to break the curse is to kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Teen Angst, They are in love your honour, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, there is only one brain cell in this group and it belongs to JC, LXC is the biggest wangxian shipper, jc is a good bro, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Gremlin WWX, Happily Every After, LXC will gut anyone who hurts his precious little brother, True Love's Kiss, JC is an awkward bean, LWJ POV, WWX POV, WWX is a closet romantic, WWX loves his romance novels, Protective JC, JC loves his gremlin brother, Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, it all works out in the end)

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10. Hi 👋🏼 can you please find me this fic . It was WIP when I came across it. idk if it has been updated or not . The story went like meng yao , xue yang, and Wei Ying all end up in Burial Mounds as kids, and they are adopted by the ghost ? Of a queen of a fallen kingdom. I think the wens had something to do with the destruction of the kingdom.

FOUND? The Kids Are Okay (I Think) by GossamerGlint (Not Rated, 80k, JGY & WWX, WWX & XY, WWX & JGY & XY, WangXian, WIP, give wwx jgy and xy a mom agenda, but not just any mom, powerful ghost empress mom with a revenge plot :), Royalty AU, Prince WWX, Prince JGY, Prince XY, Burial Mounds, Yílíng Wèi Sect, more like yiling xue sect, its... complicated, illustrated when the mood strikes)

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11. HEYYYYY!! there was this pretty woman fusion of wangxian, can you please find it?????

FOUND? A Sure Thing by ElDiablito_SF (E, 40k, WangXian, Modern, Pretty Woman Fusion, Prostitution, Unsafe Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Attempted Sexual Assault, You'd think this would be wild and kinky, but actually they're soft and gross, past Zhancheng and they're still friends, Prostitute WWX, rich asshole LWJ, fashion bitch LWJ, Shoe Porn, background attempted Xiyao, Drinking to Cope, physical assault, Villain JGY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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12. For fic finder: It was a canon-divergent or post-canon fic where someone reminds Wei Wuxian that the juniors grew up in a time of peace and so they don’t have war-instincts (like startle reflexes or ptsd from battle, and in general they are too trusting). I think the juniors too were warned that the older generation is more jumpy because of what they had been through when they were teens, and so they shouldn’t sneak up on Wei Wuxian. Unfortunately I don’t remember any of the actual plot, just this bit about the differences between the generations.

FOUND? tell some storm by qurbat (G, 31k, wangxian, JC & WWX, LSZ & WWX, NHS & WWX, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, liberal amounts of outsider POV, the legend of wangxian, how to create a romance epic for dummies) since wwx has a conversation with lsz in chapter 2 about wwxs generation being one of war

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13. hello dear, I was looking for a ff where wei wuxian left with a-yuan after wen remnants are dead. NHS secretly send them materials anonymously. After NMJ died, NHS come to wei wuxian to find his brother's body.

FOUND? Innocence by snowberryrose (G, 8k, WangXian, Introspection, Family, Canon Divergence)

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14. I wanted you to find a fic I read and lost among the saved ones I have. it was where the lans protected wwx and the time wwx saw them protecting him. I think it was 4 parts and 1. I just remember that. thank you if you find it and sorry for disturbing

FOUND? one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (G, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, POV Outsider, 5+1 Things)

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15. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian were already married ig but don't love each other just yet and one day wy faints due to lack of scenting so they start as ordered by lqr. At the end or something wy leaves lwj for a bit because he's angry that lwj told him to stand up for himself when jiangs insult him, but he comes back after lwj apologises to wn for slapping him. Also I think its jiang corp and lan corp kinda stuff and wy is stuck in btw. Thank you sm I know this is confusing so sorry @tinkalb

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16. I'm looking for some fics where Wei Ying achieves some sort of mastership(?) in cultivation. I think there were two of them that I read which had this idea... but I'm not sure now. I vaguely recall that he had to travel quite a bit to get to an instituion of some sort and there was a series of tests that he had to pass. I think there might also be something about him having to save up the money for it. Thanks!

FOUND? 🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 179k, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war) For #16 of the recent Fic Finder with WWX getting mastership in a cultivation field, there’s a chance it might be Truth Will Out by KizuKatana. The only thing is, WWX doesn’t actually achieve mastership, but he goes to Gus’s LAN to apply for a teaching job for talismans, and LWJ won’t consider him for multiple reasons including that WWX doesn’t have a master’s license (something like that)

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17. Hi, love your blog. Thanks for sharing such great content always! I would like to please request your assistance with finding a fic, it's driving me crazy because I thought I saved it. It's a modern au and lwj and wwx are coworkers and lwj is really shocked because wwx just came back from the dead 13 years later and he's acting normal in the office. Wwx has no idea he was dead the whole time. Please let me know if you know of it, thank you! @qilin-world

FOUND? A Ghost Story by Anonymous (E, 51k, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Modern with Magic, Mentions of Major Character Death, Resurrection, (the character death is not permanent), grave desecration, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Self-Harm, (the gore/body horror/self-harm all take place in dreams but they are still graphic), Compulsory Heterosexuality, internalized kinkshaming, Consensual Non-Consent, Masturbation, Bondage, WWX is a Manic Pixie Dead Boy) this fic has everything but WWX was only dead for three years, not thirteen

FOUND? Exactly what he wanted by Rookseeksraven (E, 32k, WangXian, Modern, Sex Cam Worker LWJ, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Housing Insecurity, Inaccurate sex cam work, Inaccurate sex, weirdo4weirdo, Masturbation, Vibrators, Creampie, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Unsafe Sex, they're really horny, Switch WangXian, Bathroom Sex, Office Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Cock Ring, Gags, Light Bondage, Nipple Piercings, Internalized Homophobia, not Jiang friendly, Slight LQR bashing, Getting Together, Secret Identity)

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18. Thnks for your work! I'm looking for a modern au fic. Teens WWX and LWJ were chess players who knew each during junior competitions. WWX struggled to befriend LWJ until he got LWJ to invite him to his house. They meet again at a chess competition and they kiss. Everything is ruined when SMS (¿?) accuses WWX of cheating and nobody believes in his innocence. WWX abandons the competition and don't contact LWJ. 13 years pass and LWJ faces WWX again in another competition but he is disguised as MXY

FOUND? Trebuchet by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 61k, WangXian, Modern AU, they’re chess players in this, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, rocky reunions, Good Uncle LQR, best boy wn, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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19. Hello, for fic finder, can u help me find a fic with wangxian fake dating? I remember a particular scenario where, during the wen doctrine WWX asks LWJ to marry him expecting rejection but LWJ agrees. And our sweet sweet WWX proposes to fake a relationship and not bcoz he was head over heels in love with LWJ. I don't remember anything else from the fic. Sorry. Can you help me? @grrumpywoof

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20. greetings! i'm trying to find a fic where jyl is the one who time travels. her younger counterpart is still present, so she takes street kid wwx and lives in wen territory. she falls in love with wen qing & ning's (mother? father?) and discovers cooking cultivation. she assassinates wrh with it, allowing wwx to meet lwj as he gets older.

FOUND! 後悔莫及 (Too Late for Regrets) by liverbiver9 (T, 20k, JYL/OC, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JYL-centric, POV JYL, Genderqueer WWX, Trans Male Character, Kid Fic, Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX is a Wen, technically, Assassination Attempt(s), WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Minor MianQing, No Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Everybody Lives, mentioned minor character death, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Trans WWX)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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yunyunrin · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter Two : Holy Fool

genre : horror, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, enemies to lovers, alternate universe, slow burn

pairing : angel!reader (gn) x kingofhell!???, other side pairings

chapter warnings : arguing, crying, flashback, panic attacks, religious themes, yandere themes, anxiety

wc : a bit over 10k

A/N : here we go!!! everything from here on out is going to be a bit more fast paced so i’m excited for that 😣 and i finally got the motivation to edit! if i left out any warnings on accident let me know!

MDNI

holy fool masterlist | chapter one | next

“Glory be to God, Amen,” you recite to yourself as you finish your prayer, quickly looking around to find a familiar face.

“Angel Blossom!” Poppy shouted a little ways away from you as she walked towards you after the prayer, granted her choice of volume garnered some stares from the other Angels. Poppy didn’t seem to mind though. As long as the prayer was over, it was okay to be happy in the prayer hall.

“Hi my darling Poppy, how are you today?” you asked. Poppy seems to be in a cheery mood tonight, more so than usual.

“I should be asking you that, Blossom,” Poppy replied. You know what she is talking about, tonight is when you head back down to Earth for your first assignment. You haven’t been back down to Earth since that night all those years ago. Not even thinking about the content of that night since a day or so after you returned to Heaven after the fact. Listening to Poppy was most important to you then, and it is the same now. Although you are having much more trouble not thinking about it since Angel Zen has told you about your impending assignment a few weeks back.

“I’m doing okay, nervous,” you respond. You and Poppy have now made it back to your shared room.

“It’s okay to be nervous, it is your first assignment. You will do well. Come on, let's go wash off before we head out,” Poppy ushers you quickly out the room once you gather your clothes towards the communal showering area. You both walk in and there is no other Angel there. Everyone has washed off already, but you and Poppy are washing off again.

Poppy and Angel Zen are still the only ones who know of your past as a human. In the years since becoming an Angel, you’re allowed to be around the others now, but you choose not to be close with them. Of course, you’re cordial, but you couldn’t risk them finding out anything, so you stick to Poppy. You’re truly grateful for Poppy, you don’t know what you did to deserve her. One day, you told her that when you were alive, you would take hot showers when you were stressed or nervous and ever since then when you are nervous or stressed, she takes you straight to the showers to relax.

Initially you never thought you’d be able to get used to the new life you had, thinking that your experience on Earth would make you too bashful for some of the things that Angels are accustomed to. Quickly it became something you got used to. For example, the communal showers do not have any dividers; you’re seeing everyone the way that they were made, but it wasn’t weird. You and Poppy have had many conversations over the years as you washed yourselves like you are now, but it is no different from the talks you have when you are in the comfort of your shared room.

“Your assignment, the family has had two more kids since you have last seen them. A three-year-old and a newborn,” Poppy informs you as she walks to the mirror to get a better look at drying her hair with her towel.

This hurts your heart a bit, you know not everyone has a bad life but from what you have learned in the past couple of months from Poppy, this situation was not too good. You wish you could give the mother the strength to leave, but your focus is on the children and your only job is to protect them to the best of your ability.

“Thank you for telling me, Poppy. Where are you going for your assignment tonight?” You question because Poppy herself is also getting a new assignment tonight.

“I’m going to Cana-da-da-da,” Poppy laughs at you, “apparently they are a sweet family. The grandparents live with the family and one of them will be getting diagnosed with cancer soon. I will be there long enough to help with the blow it will bring to the grandchildren,” she drops her shoulders once the information leaves her mouth. Poppy is a very emotional Angel that always takes things to heart. That is what makes her different from many of the Angels you have encountered. The others aren’t often phased by what they see, just doing their assignments and coming back to pray. A routine they have perfected over time, but Poppy is unique. You’ve had to comfort Poppy a lot because she feels everything from everyone around her.

Once you and Poppy are done washing off, you return to back to your bedroom. “Listen to me Blossom, everything will be okay with the kids. They are strong, I wouldn’t lie to you,” Poppy stated before you both were about to take your leave. “You will be okay, I promise. You can always talk to me through your bond and I will come in a second, now go to those kids,” Poppy pats your back, and you nod at her before transporting to the home of your assignment.

—

It’s been four years since the air of the Earth has hit your skin. The family from four years ago lives in a new place now, as you transport yourself in the entryway you take in the surroundings of their space. It’s small, a kitchen/dining area, a small living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Poppy’s words are replaying in your mind as you walk to the children’s room. “You’ll be okay Blossom,” you mumble to yourself. The room is small, a bunk bed and a crib. The kid you last saw four years ago taking the top bunk while the toddler is on the bottom bunk, and obviously the baby is in the crib. You move to get in the bed with the toddler, cradling him in your hold. Poppy told you that is what she did, as he is prone to nightmares and this is all that helps.

The children are asleep, and the house is quiet, which leaves you with one thing to do. Think. Four years ago. You physically cringe at the memory and your stupidity. You are certain that if Poppy’s hair wasn’t permanently a bright golden color that it would have grayed instantly that night.

You’ve learned a lot since then, you could understand why Poppy was worried. Even if you had brushed against the man, you would have been a fallen Angel that instant. That goes for touching any non-human unless they are an Angel or a child under the age of twelve. Also witches, even the human ones. You didn’t really understand the witches, though, you knew some who practiced when you were alive, and they were some of the kindest people you knew. But that’s the rules, and you can’t do anything about that.

You still didn’t know anything about the Kings of Hell. You couldn’t genuinely ask because to every other Angel in Heaven, you already knew. Angel Zen was not someone you wanted to talk to more than you had to, and you knew how Poppy felt talking about them. You just hated feeling ignorant, your ignorance is what put you and Poppy in danger in the first place.

Although you feared how the family would fare during your shift, you were more afraid of seeing him. You know it is not a sin to find people attractive, but is it when they are a King of Hell and you’re a Guardian Angel? His sharp jawline and the singsong voice he used when he spoke to you, “shut up Blossom,” scolding yourself for thinking of him. He has definitely forgotten you by now and if he did remember you, it is because you were a Heavenly being who didn’t know he was a King of Hell.

Morning comes quickly, and your assignment shift is almost done. The kids slept soundly, now there is one thing left to do before you go back. Pray over the children. You fall to your knees in front of the window of the room and put your hands together, “God, please protect this family, —” Cinnamon. Cinnamon fills your nostrils and your hands start to tremble. “No, not now, please not now,” you say to yourself before finishing your prayer.

The smell of cinnamon and the feeling of his eyes on you has not left since the beginning of your prayer. This can’t be happening, you think to yourself as you walk to the kitchen, hoping that their mother is cooking breakfast with cinnamon or perhaps lit a cinnamon scented candle? You enter the kid’s room defeated as neither was happening. The feeling of him is strong, but you can’t see him. But you aren’t looking, your eyes have been tightly shut since you entered the room, finding solace again with the toddler. Instead, hoping that this time your nightmare will go away, but it does not.

“I know you are there but please not today. Please — leave me alone,” you begged into the thick tension of the room. You weren’t expecting it to anything, especially for the presence to dissipate as soon as you were finished speaking. He let you off the hook today, and for that, you are grateful.

—

As you enter back into Heaven you find yourself going straight to the showers in hopes that Poppy has already been back and showered, but as you walk in you see that that was, in fact, not the case. Poppy looks like she has not started showering yet, but the only available spot was right next to her. It isn’t like you would rather not see her, you did want to see her. But you can’t tell her that you felt him. She still hasn’t mentioned that night even when she saw your nervousness before your assignment. Could she have truly forgotten?

You make your way beside Poppy and turn the showers on, warm water instantly hitting your skin. You aren’t sure how the Earth changes your scent, but you know that it does. Even if it is a little bit. “Blossom, how was your first night on assignment?” Poppy questions, the suds from her shampooed hair falling down the side of her face.

“It went well, they had a pretty good night, thankfully,” you answer politely, not meeting her gaze.

“I’m glad. You smell not like how I did when I came back from their assignment?” Poppy inquires. You can feel her eyes on you, and you begin to feel small under her gaze.

“What do you mean?” you ask, hoping that your ignorance will help you with the incoming questions that you know you will receive from her.

“You smell like cinnamon. How come?” her voice is noticeably down a few octaves. Shit, she is on to you. You immediately start thinking of an excuse, anything to save your ass.

“Right before I left for assignment, their father used the bathroom, I’m assuming his stomach had gotten upset from something he consumed the night before. Before too long, the whole apartment was smelling… Not good. His wife woke up a short time after and lit a candle, probably cinnamon,” you chuckle to yourself and move to rinse your hair, “I’m thankful she did, if she didn’t, I would likely smell a lot worse…” you told Poppy, hoping that your lie was enough to fool her.

Poppy nods her head and the rest of the time you and her spend showering was met with silence. After your shower ends, you go to your room to make sure you have everything you need for your prayer. Some Angels take holy books to pray, others take holy memorabilia, others take nothing. It just depends on the mood and the Angel. Tonight you opt to take a holy book while Poppy just makes sure she looks presentable enough to walk into the prayer hall. ‘You know you can tell me anything, Blossom’ Poppy shares with you through your bond. You look at her and smile, showing that you understand and that you will. Your second lie in Heaven tonight, wow you really are the best Angel, sighing to yourself at the hidden thought.

You and Poppy walk shoulder to shoulder into the prayer hall before going to your respective spots. You and Poppy cannot pray together in the prayer hall due to the difference in your ranks. You are the lowest ranked Angel, while Poppy is a few ranks higher than you are. The prayer hall is beginning to fill with Angels which means the official prayer will start soon, but that does not stop other Angels for beginning to pray earlier. You have been in his prayer hall continuously for the past few years, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. The hall is long in length and width, plated with pure gold. The floors are marble and there are cushions of red velvet that act as a barrier for when you fall to your knees during prayer. Contrary to your belief beforehand, there are no statues of Angels because wouldn’t that be weird? Apparently.

The orchestra music pauses, causing you to come back to reality from your thoughts. A high ranked Angel, like Angel Zen for example would start off the prayer and then the remainder of the time Angels would pray about what you feel you needed your attention, or God’s attention. You had three things you wanted to pray on. The first was your ability to lie in Heaven, your faith itself, and —. You pause your last thought. Your prayers go directly to God, and you aren’t sure you want God to know about this yet. But if God is all knowing, then you shouldn’t have to pray about it anyway, right?

After your years of being an Angel you’d expect to be a fierce believer of God, but you are not. You took steps further than you had when you first became an Angel but probably not as much as Poppy would hope. You believe in God, but you don’t feel the need to worship him, you know he exists but is he really worthy of your worship? What makes him more worthy of it than Lord Hades or Lady Athena? This is how you were different from the thousands of other Angels in the prayer hall, you believed in every God’s existence. Your belief would render you an Omnist Pagan, which is why you could never speak of it. That’s why your best friend Poppy could never know that the Angel she worked to help become a pious God-fearing Angel, was a Pagan. During times and thoughts like this you wish you had Dina, where you could speak freely.

—

Although you believe this way, you have a tremendous amount of guilt. You were given a second chance by people who worship God and you could not even worship him in which others feel he deserves. Lying in a space that it was forbidden to lie, and no one was the wiser. You sat here during prayer and prayed the best way you knew how to change the way you thought, to think like Poppy. That’s what you prayed for. But year after year, nothing changes and occasionally, you don’t feel bad. You’re praying about it, so now it’s out of your hands. You know it truly is not, but that thought helps to keep the guilt from consuming you entirely.

Before you know it, the prayer is over and Poppy is making her way to you. The walk back to you and Poppy’s shared room is quiet but comfortable. You walk in first, and Poppy follows and closes the door once she enters. You sit at your respective beds, allowing your bodies to truly rest after the long night of your assignments and the prayer that followed it.

“What do you intend to do today?” Poppy asks cheerily.

“I think that I will sleep for a couple of hours, then clean for a bit, and I think that I will also read some scriptures. How about you?” you ask while glancing at the Angel.

“I think I will go down to Earth for a bit and bring the holy feel to a couple of churches. You know you don’t have to sleep, right? Angels don’t need to sleep to function,” Poppy clarifies, like you didn’t already know. Ever since becoming an Angel and after those first couple of nights, you truly haven’t been tired, but you still sleep. It helps pass the time and if you’re being honest, you hope that one day you will dream. It hasn’t happened, but every so often you wish that you would be allowed to live the way you wanted through your dreams, but you have not been granted that wish.

“Yes Poppy, I know. It is just something I miss from Earth, it’s grounding. Plus, I only do it for a couple of hours. It isn’t like I do it and then wake up to pray and go to assignment. I guess it is a guilty pleasure, you could say,” you retort back

Poppy doesn’t seem too amused with your response, but you were being honest. Sleeping for a couple of hours wasn’t hurting anyone. “Praying is grounding, Blossom. And that guilty pleasure is what we’d call a sin on Earth,” Poppy jitters, her fists clenched.

“Napping isn’t a sin for people on Earth, Poppy,” you clap back while massaging your temples, your voice beginning to sound volatile.

“It is when you nap and aren’t tired that is what God would consider Sloth, Blossom. Don’t try to tell me what is and what is not a sin. Don’t forget who—” Poppy cuts herself off before saying her last bit, looking up at you with glossy eyes at the thought of what she was about to say to you.

“Is the real Angel,” you say, finishing the sentence that she was going to say. Poppy doesn’t normally share her thoughts with you, opting to keep them to herself. But at that moment, she was too angry to keep herself in that white bubble that she finds comfort in.

“That isn’t what I meant, I’m sorry I thought that. We all struggle, we are all tempted. Every Angel is, if we were not there, would be no fallen Angels. Although what I said about the sin being considered Sloth was true, I really cannot judge you for it, as what I struggle with the most is wrath. You have seen it more than I’d have liked. Please forgive me, don’t take what I say out of anger as truth. Only you know your true intentions, all we can do is try to be better. It doesn’t all happen at once,” Poppy says with an apologetic tone. You can’t lie that what she said and thought didn’t hurt your feelings, but you knew she was sorry. You know that much. If you had seen half of what she has seen, you would likely struggle with wrath too. After the argument, you feel nonverbal, so you opt to go and give her a hug to show her that you aren’t mad. You both stay like that for a while, and for once, Poppy lays with you. You aren’t sure if she falls asleep, but you wake up in her arms. You know this is her way of apologizing and if you’re being honest, you’re grateful to have been held after what you have been through during your first day of assignment, even if she doesn’t know what truly transpired.

—

Once you wake up from your nap and Poppy goes to do what she had planned to do during her free time, you decide to go back to the prayer hall to read the scriptures. To anyone else, you would be just an Angel reading the Bible. Which would be true, but you’re reading for a slightly different reason. Who are these Kings of Hell. No one has told you nothing. You think it is crucial for you to know, you have learned of one of their existences, and you don’t think you want that to happen in that way again. Poppy said they don’t normally come out, and the man that night didn’t correct her, so it must be true. But what if they decide to come out one day, and you simply don’t know. You still haven’t encountered a Demon since that night. Obviously, you know how to spot one, but if a King of Hell can look like, not a Demon? Then how are you supposed to know. You felt that same man last night, but you still don’t know his name. Aren’t you supposed to know their names, and it gives you leverage over them? You think about that, you aren’t sure how true it is, but you remember it being talked about from the second Conjuring movie. You laugh to yourself, getting information about Demons from a movie that you saw before you died. Comical.

You read for hours and find nothing. Obviously, the seven sins themselves are talked about, but not the Kings who rule over them. Why are there eight Kings but seven deadly sins? This makes no sense, and you wish someone would just tell you. “Angel,” a gruff voice calls from behind you. You look behind your shoulder to see none other than Angel Zen himself.

“Yes, Angel Zen,” you reply softly to the man who seems to be in a good mood currently.

“Reading scriptures for fun?” he questions, an eyebrow raised. You don’t even know if this Angel has the capability of being in a good mood. Alas, you keep a curt smile on your face while speaking with him.

“Not for fun, but to learn. You can never read too much when it comes to scriptures,” you answer, hoping that the conversation will end soon.

“That is correct, Angel. The orchestra will start soon, so go get ready for prayer,” he instructs before shooing you away with his hand. After the interaction, you walk to your room to get clothes before walking to the showers. As you enter the orchestra, music begins to play, and Angels begin entering the showers. As the showers fill, you begin to wash off with the soap and wash rag. You know the whole point of no scent in the soap is so you will only smell like your scent, but every so often you miss being able to wash yourself with soap that smelled like cotton candy or something magical like that. As you finish your shower and are leaving to go back to your room to get ready for the prayer, Poppy comes in. She smiles at you brightly before going to the shower that you just occupied. If you see her tonight before your assignment, it will only be briefly after the prayer.

The walk to your room was short, and you didn’t really have much to do to get ready for prayer. You decided to bring a cross with you this time instead of the Bible. Honestly, you’re a bit nervous to going out tonight, so the cross will help with your fidgeting during the prayer. If you’re being honest you want answers, but you know the likelihood of you getting them is not strong, but you just wish you could know what everyone else does.

—

And just as quick as the prayer started, it ended just as swiftly. You’re used to looking over your shoulder to see Poppy, but she hasn’t quite made it to you yet. She’s walking your way and as you go up to meet her, she walks right past. She didn’t even look your way. You look around for the only other Angel that you know, Angel Zen. Once you find him, you make brief eye contact before he moves his gaze back to the Angel he was just speaking to.

You sprint back to your room to find Poppy. Once you enter, you see her back, as she is clawing through the drawers with an urgency that you haven’t seen in years. “Poppy,” you cried out, tears threatening to fall down your eyes. She turns around and glances at you but does not make eye contact. Without a word, she is gone. Likely having transported herself to her assignment.

You fall to the floor, your lower limbs having given out on you. Your throat feels like it is closing, and your spit is falling out of your mouth as you sob. ‘Poppy, what did I do wrong, please Poppy’ you ask through your bond, hyperventilating in the position you find yourself in. You try to get up to go to your bed, Poppy having decided not to respond to you. As you’re walking to where your bed sits, your vision gets no better. Your sight is going in and out, and your head is getting lightheaded. You feel your body give out, you come back to reality as soon as your head hits the floor, only having passed out for a few seconds. You opt to lay there because you know you are not strong enough to hold your body up right now. You think of Dina, and how she would help you during your panic attacks.

“Hey Dina, we have the same schedule this week,” you cheered, happy that you and your best friend will see each other a lot the following week. Your best friend jumps up and down with her hands cupping her face, sharing the same excitement. Working at the bakery shop was fun, especially when it was the graveyard shift. All you and Dina did was bake throughout the night, and doing light decorating. The morning shift would come in and do more thorough decorating.

“The owner said we have to bake this huge cake tonight, to not even worry about the small stuff, that he would come in and bake those later in the shift,” Dina says with wide eyes.

“Jeez, how big is the cake?” you question Dina, never has your owner came in to make baked goods. Your manager, sure. The owner? Never.

“We’ll have to see once we get there,” Dina says, and you both walk out the door with pep in your steps because you have got to see what this cake is all about.

“Dina, this is not what I was expecting,” you say with your mouth agape in shock. This cake has so much to it. It’s a gigantic house, three stories. Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, and strawberry were the flavors that you had to use. But not one part of the cake had to be a certain flavor, but one room in the house had to be a swirl of all the flavors? What an odd request. “I feel bad for who has to frost the cake, they want eight different colors for their frosting. They also want it swirled for that one room,” you tell Dina, still in shock.

“Who even ordered this anyway?,” Dina asks while looking at the ticket, “Kang Yeosang”, Dina says while popping her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Well Kang Yeosang better tip us a million fucking dollars Dina,” you laugh to yourself.

“He better, he definitely has a lot of money. Now let's get to baking, the owner of the whole bakery didn’t say not to worry about anything else tonight for a reason.

You and Dina spend the next twelve hours baking the odd request, whenever it got hard you found yourself cursing the man who ordered it because truly, why did he need such an absurd cake? Alas, you have finished baking everything, now all that is left is for the other bakers to frost it and put it together. You really hope this Yeosang dude likes this cake. And will actually pay for it. It would be unfortunate if he didn’t.

As you and Dina move to leave the kitchen, you bump into the table and one of the pieces falls on the floor. You gasp and look at Dina with fear in your eyes, which has replaced the sleepiness you were feeling prior. Your legs begin to give out, and you begin to hyperventilate, and your heart is beating so fast that you fear it may fall out of your chest.

“Hey lovie, you’re okay, listen to my voice,” Dina says in a hope to calm you down.

“I fu-fuc-fucked it all up Dina. I’m going to g-get fired, and I can’t get fi-fired,” you choke out, stuttering on your words as spit begins to still in your throat. Dina rubs your back and engulfs you in a hug, making sure that the fluorescent lights of the room are out of your line of vision.

“Hey, I know it is frustrating, but mistakes happen. And what fell on the ground was sphere shaped, no one will be mad at that for falling. There is a reason why no one orders sphere shaped cakes,” Dina coos into your ear softly, still rubbing your back, “If anything, we should blame the man who ordered the cake. What was his name? Oh right, Kang Yeosang. It’s all his fault. Big ass cake for a small ass bakery shop,” Dina mocks, causing you to laugh into her chest.

“I’m sorry Dina,” you mumble, having calmed down.

Dina playfully turns her head, “Nothing to be sorry for lovie, now I’ll go tell the owner, and you can put in four more sheets of vanilla batter in the oven. The other bakers don’t even get here until another hour, it’ll be okay,” Dina says soft but clearly before leaving the room.

The owner wasn’t mad, but made a mental note to put the spheres into a container so they wouldn’t fall again. The cakes are ready before you and Dina leave for the day, so you take them out of the oven so they can cool before leaving with Dina after clocking out. You and Dina walk together with your arms interlocked on your way home, ready for the sleep that you are about to have.

“I miss Dina,” you sigh to yourself. The memory is a fond one and it helped you calm down after your panic attack. You haven’t had one in a while, but when you did, Poppy was the one who helped you through it. Now, she caused it. But you don’t dwell on the thought for too long, you know you’re already late to your assignment. You just wish you knew what you did wrong.

—

The kids appear to be sleeping soundly in their beds. “It should be a good night,” you think to yourself before situating yourself next to the toddler. You opt to sit on the floor and just play with his hair instead of laying with him, you hope this will keep his nightmares at bay just as well.

You wonder if he will come again tonight. You sigh and roll your eyes to yourself, still not knowing what name to put with that man you saw four years ago. “Why can’t I just know his name?,” you mumble to yourself quietly. And like he knew your thoughts and could hear that whisper the scent of cinnamon began to fill your nostrils. You close your eyes and try to ignore it. It is hard, the scent has gotten strong in a short amount of time. You wonder if the kids can smell it? Surely, they have to. After a minute or so, you’re hoping that he — or at least the scent, will go away. The noise of poking at the window startles you, causing you to look that way. The same man from all those years ago is situated on the other side, you meet his gaze, and he smiles cheekily at you.

“Come see me Cherry, it’s been a while,” he urged. You think about it, you have been wanting to know more about him, but you aren’t supposed to speak to him. You could call Poppy and tell her a King of Hell has found you again, but she definitely does not want to talk you right now. “Please, Cherry,” the man begs, asking again. You get up and walk to the window, being mere inches away from the man, the only thing separating you was glass that you knew he could break if he really wanted to. You look at him, but he doesn’t make eye contact, he’s studying you, taking in your features after all these years.

You can see he is about to speak, about to ask you a question and fear suddenly envelops you. He pokes at the window to get your attention, nodding his head to the side to ask you what’s wrong. You break the eye contact suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Hey Cherry, let me—,” you shut the curtains in his face before he can finish his statement, “Come on,” the man shouts in shock. The man’s reaction causes you to laugh, and you can’t seem to control your laughter either, replaying what you think his face would’ve looked like in your mind. “Cherry, you think this funny, but I have been waiting to see you for years,” the man stumbles over his words, obviously shocked that you closed the curtains in his face. “So you can come over to see me, but you can’t speak?,” the man inquires, hoping that you will answer. He doesn’t know that you’ve already situated yourself back with the sleeping toddler, but his continues efforts to converse with you do make you chuckle. “Okay you may not answer me, but I’m not leaving,” he says one last time before going silent.

He stays true to his word, the longer the night goes the more sparse his attempts at talking to you are. He does, in fact, not leave, the smell of cinnamon fills your nostrils until you transport yourself back to Heaven. He doesn’t even leave when you pray over the children throughout the night, he was one persistent Demon.

—

Once you are back in Heaven, you go straight to your room to get ready for your shower. You don’t expect to see Poppy, and you are correct. She isn’t there and neither are her things. Not even your bed. You contemplate being sad for a second, but it isn’t worth it. You shrug at the sight before going to the showers to wash away the smell of cinnamon that you know lingers on your skin.

Once you enter the showers, there are only two open. One next to Poppy and another next to another Angel who you do not know the name of. You had always showered next to Poppy because you aren’t allowed to be friends with any other Angels, but if she can be petty, then so can you. You walk right past Poppy, and you can feel her eyes on you, but you don’t pay her any mind. ‘What are you doing, Blossom,’ the nerve she has, speaking through to you through your bond. You don’t reply or give any indication that you even heard the thought, continuing to wash your hair and your body quickly. Once you are finished, you walk back to your room. You’ve decided to bring your Bible and your cross with you to prayer today. Your cross to squeeze in your hand and the Bible to remind you that you are, in fact, in a prayer hall.

You walk to the prayer hall, taking your normal spot. You actually try to pray with everyone else today because if you don’t, you think you may blow up. ‘Blossom,’ you hear through your bond with Poppy. It takes everything in you to not whip your head around and look in your direction, but you don’t. You keep your composure in the prayer hall, you hope that prayer is done soon because you feel like you need to scream into the void of the Earth. ‘Angel Blossom to you, only speak to me if it is important,’ you reply through your bond.

Once the prayer ends you book it straight to your room, you definitely need to scream into the pillow. Once you enter your room and shut your door, it is being reopened just moments later. Poppy is standing in the doorway, where she stays for a few seconds before fully coming in and closing the door behind her. “We have to talk,” Poppy exclaims, taking a few steps towards you.

“No fucking shit, Poppy. Of course, we have to talk,” you bite back, venom lacing your voice.

“You don’t curse in Heaven, Angel,” Poppy replies, her forehead creasing with anger.

“And you’re in Heaven too and that hasn’t stopped you from acting like an asshole, so that’s that, Poppy. Nice talk,”

“Don’t be like that,” Poppy replies, her face having became softer in the past few seconds.

“Don’t be like what? Be forced to be someone’s friend that someone isn’t allowed to have more friends besides you. Hmmm.. What else? Oh! Out of nowhere, stop talking to them and move out of your shared room for the past few years in less than twenty-four hours after ignoring them! Yes, let’s not be like that, Poppy,” you hiss, not caring for who could hear you at that moment.

“You got too comfortable, and my rank increased. I had to move,” Poppy says, glancing at the floor.

“Too comfortable? I live uncomfortably in here,” you whisper this, just loud enough for Poppy to hear.

“I’m sorry. We still have our bond, so call if you need. I couldn’t answer today due to being in a meeting, but don’t call for me unless it is urgent. And for God’s sake, tell that Demon to leave you alone. Don’t fall because of him,” Poppy says with urgency in her voice.

“You weren’t in a meeting. I saw you leave. Don’t lie to me, and what Demon are you talking about” you question Poppy.

“Don’t play stupid, everyone can smell his scent on you. He’s the King of Hell for crying out loud, his scent lingers even if you don’t touch him. And I needed to go to an important meeting, excuse me for having misspoke,” Poppy retorts.

“Whatever Poppy. Maybe if you actually talked to me before assuming stuff you would know I haven’t talked to nor felt that Demon. The reason I smelled like cinnamon today was because the kids mother made a homemade cinnamon inspired dish and their father got mad, and he threw them at the kids because the two youngest started to cry,” you respond, the lie easily falling from your lips. You glance at Poppy, and she is believing it. “And I stepped in front of them so they would have time to move out of the way so they wouldn’t get burned by the hot food. Of course, it still went through me, but it distorted time just enough to give them enough time to get out of the way. So excuse me for doing my job as a Guardian Angel, Poppy. You can tell anyone that story who doubts me. They know just as well as you do that Earthly scents linger. So stop projecting your worries onto me, I can handle myself,” you say to Poppy in a mocking tone, laughing to yourself as you speak.

“You can handle yourself so well, very funny coming from the one who killed themselves,” Poppy hissed.

“Get out,” you shout at the Angel before throwing the wooden cross in your hand at her, she teleported just in time to not get hit by the cross. You aren’t even sad at her statement, but just angry. You feel betrayed, she knew how much that fact about yourself haunted you, but she used it against you in a moment of anger anyway. If you knew better you would say that wasn’t her at all.

—

During your leisure time between assignments you didn’t have to stay in Heaven. You opted to do so because of the dangers that you had been warned of, but now you don’t really care. So you decide to go out to Earth during your spare time, albeit you find yourself on the peer. You lean against the new wood that was used to fix what you broke all those years ago.

“Cherry,” after hearing the nickname that you have come a bit to accustomed to when you ventured down to the Earth, you whip your head around towards the voice. The man leans against the peer with you, his body is turned towards you and not the water. You look back out the water instead of answering him, taking in the smell of the sea. “Still not talking to me pretty?,” questioning you softly.

“I would, but you’re a bit mean,” you exclaim, still not moving your gaze towards him.

“I am not!,” he says in a surprised tone, which makes you look at him. You giggle at his reaction, his mouth opened in shock at your statement. He definitely was offended.

“A King of Hell isn’t mean? I should talk to the other seven to let them know you aren’t doing your duty of being a big bad wolf?,” he rolls his eyes at you dramatically, turning to look at the water.

“Okay now you know that is not what I meant,” he retorts.

“How else was I supposed to take it then?,”

“I am not mean to you my little cherry blossom,”

“I feel flattered,” you say sarcastically

“You should,” the man says before taking a couple of steps, “what are you even doing down at Earth when you aren’t on assignment?,”

“It isn’t forbidden for me to come down to Earth during my free time you know?,”

“Yes, I know. But it is odd, coming to this space in specific,”

You know why it is odd, the peer is empty when it would normally be full of people. “How come?,”

“You really don’t know?,” he questions you. You shake your head no to him in response.

“A few years back, someone drove off the peer. The city fixed it but no one ever really comes besides paranormal investigators and teenagers who decide it’s cute to do a Ouija board,” the man explains.

“That’s so sad,” you say sorrowfully, “Does that person ever answer their calls? You know the teenagers and paranormal investigators?,”

“No,” he sighs, “they were always an enigma,”

His words pique your interest, you had never really talked about the surroundings of your death before. “How so? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” You question.

“Well to me, they were an enigma from the start. I wanted to see the body because when someone dies they have a marking that shows if their soul went to Heaven or Hell. For Hell, it’ll have that marking with a number, the number showing which ruler you spend eternity with,” he pauses to look down at the ocean, “the person who killed themselves had the marking of Hell with an infinity sign and the sign of Heaven,”

The revelation that he makes to you makes the blood in your body run cold. You’re glad that he was not looking at you, and you were not looking at him because the look on your face would have given you away instantly.

“That is really strange, did you try looking for them?” you question, thankful that the anxiety you felt could not be shown in your voice.

“We never tried, Heaven is quick to come to find the people who are meant to go there. I just wonder what they said when they saw the symbol of Hell with an infinity sign next to us. None of us Kings could ever figure out what that meant,” he sighs, “Did you ever see them?,” he questions.

“No, if I’m being honest I don’t think any Angel has,” they definitely haven’t, no one knows your true story. “But for something like that, I don’t think it’d be made known,”

“You’re right. They have a memorial plaque at the entrance of the peer. Did you see it?,”

“No,”

The man gestures you to follow him down the peer towards the entrance. The plaque has a picture that you and Dina had taken together a couple of months before your death’s, both of your names, with a simple “Rest Easily” engraved on it as well.

“I thought there was only one person who passed away in this tragedy?,” you ask while looking at the plaque.

“There was only one, but both of them died that night. They were best friends. The dispatch call was made public, I just don’t think they could live without her,” his words sting, but they hold true. “You know, their dad got on the television crying over their death,” he states, voice having now gone monotone.

What the Hell. What in the actual Hell. “I just think that, if you’re a good dad, your child wouldn’t disown you, you know?,” He looks at you after he stops talking.

“I agree, did he say they didn’t talk?” you question.

“Yes, the whole interview was a bit bizarre. I just know Hongjoong will be the one dealing with him once he dies,” he grumbled.

You look up at him, a bit confused about what he means by the name. Who is Hongjoong?

“Hongjoong is the King of Kings when it comes to Hell. Although seven of the eight of us rule over specific sins, he rules over them all. He’s the most important one,” You nod at his explanation, deciding not to ask more questions. He will tell you if he'd like.

“Where did she go?,” your curiosity getting the better of you once you focus back on the plaque.

“Her death was something different, difficult to explain. But let’s not talk about it,”

This saddens you, he wouldn’t have a problem telling you she went to Hell, so you don’t understand why he is being so secretive now.

“May I ask you a question, Mr. King of Hell?,” He chuckles at the name you gave him, but nods at you nonetheless.

“Still don’t know my name?,” he asks, and you nod, looking away as the embarrassment creeps up on your cheeks.

“Can you take me to where she is buried?,”

“Which one?,”

You weren’t expecting him to ask that question. “Dina,”

“Yes, we’ll have to walk through since I cannot teleport you there,”

“You’re right about that, I’d have nowhere to go if I became a fallen Angel,” you joke.

“You’d come to Hell with me,” he remarked like it was obvious.

The rest of the walk is spent in silence until you come upon a cemetery. Once you get to her grave, your body almost becomes too much for your feet to handle. You hold your composure, you really wish the Demon wasn’t with you right now so you could cry.

“I don’t feel anything,” you whispered. You sit down at her grave, before your feet end up failing you.

The Demon sits down next to you, but far enough away that you wouldn’t be in danger of touching him. “You don’t usually feel anything, Cherry,” acknowledging what you whispered to yourself.

You get up quickly, the feeling of the cemetery becoming too overwhelming. “I need to go, thank you for today,” you muttered quickly before transporting yourself to back to Heaven. You didn’t even give him a chance to speak back, but you really didn’t feel like crying in front of a Demon today.

—

You arrived in Heaven right on time, the orchestra having started mere moments after transporting into your room. You didn’t realize how long you had been out, but at least you weren’t late. You do your usual routine, no Poppy in site. Not that you really cared too much, but you still looked for the familiarity. She also hasn’t graced the prayer hall with her presence either, which is odd.

If you’re being honest, you really do miss Poppy. Being bonded with her means that you miss her subconsciously, as she to you.

“Everyone listen up,” Angel Zen announces, “I want to make sure everyone is paying attention today as God has a message that, I think, would be crucial for some of you to hear,” he makes eye contact with you as he says it which causes chills to run up your spine.

“Everything you do, God knows. Every conversation you have, God hears. Everything you feel, God feels. Everything you see, God sees as well. Every single Angel in this room is privileged to be an Angel. Don’t forget it. Don’t be reckless,” Angel Zen commanded.

The rest of the prayer goes by as normal, but you can’t shake that feeling that you get when you think about the words that Angel Zen said to begin the prayer. It’s a reality check, you can’t keep doing what you are doing. After finding out the information that you did earlier, you truly think you’d be fucked. The symbol of Hell with an infinity sign? You’d surely be in the deepest pits of Hell right now if it weren’t for your Guardian Angel.

Once the prayer ends, you walk to your room to retrieve your cross and your Bible to take with you on assignment, you can’t take any more risks with that Demon. Although you’re nervous, you have a job to do.

—

Once you arrive at your assignment, you find the baby is awake. You have always had a soft spot for kids, so you are grateful that you are a Guardian Angel for them. You don’t want the baby to cry, so you do your best to help the baby girl fall asleep quickly.

The knocks on the window shock you, almost causing you to scream. Your energy is enough to wake the kids up if you are not calm, so it is really irritating when that Demon scares you. Seriously, you have to ask him what he did with his scent. You didn’t smell it when he was with you earlier. At least you knew he was coming then. You ignore it, but his knocks do not pause. Eventually, you walk up to the window.

“Go away,” you ordered, trying your best to sound serious.

“Let me in,” he requested.

“No,”

“After everything I did for you today?,” he asked with a pout.

You hate that he was right, he did a lot for you today. But you did bring a cross and a Bible… so maybe he can’t come near you anyway. You flash the Bible and the cross at him, to which he rolls his eyes. Now that was rude, you thought to yourself.

“That doesn’t bother me. I’m not a vampire,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Fine, come in,” you mutter under your breath, instantly he is in the room with you. He smirks at you after getting his way.

“What are their names?,”

“The kids? I’m not telling you,” you stated.

“And why not?,”

“Because you still haven’t told me yours,”

“Wow, you would think they would’ve told you our names, or at least mine after I scared the living daylights out of your friend,”

“You’re telling me,”

“Take a guess, you could get it right,”

“Hmm… You want to know what you look like?,”

“Yes,”

“You look like a buffoon,”

“That’s mean,”

“You asked me to guess,”

“You’re not like any Angel I’ve ever met Cherry,”

“For my sake, please don’t elaborate,”

“I won’t,”

For a while, the two of you don’t continue the conversation. You sit in the silence for a while, you hold the hand of the toddler while the Demon sits by the crib, watching you.

“Which sin do you think I rule over?,” the Demon asks.

“Well, you said that all of you don’t really come out often, but out of the seven sins it would make the most sense for gluttony and lust to come to Earth. And you’re a bit of a flirt, so I’d say you rule over lust,” you answered, not expecting to be correct. One thing you have learned over the years is that not everything is as it seems.

“Correct,” he said happily.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting to be right,”

“You’re smart Cherry,”

His compliment makes you blush, and you’re glad that he doesn’t tease you. “Their names are Eric, Sebastian, and Ariel. Like The Little Mermaid,” you say to distract from your nervousness

“It fits them perfectly, don’t you think?,” he questions, looking back at the crib.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“My name is Wooyoung,” his voice trembled as he spoke, like he was afraid that his name would steer you away. His name was beautiful, and you couldn’t hide the grin that plastered your face once he told you his name.

“You have a beautiful name,” you reassure him.

“Are you afraid to say it?,” Wooyoung quips.

“If I say it three times will you show up?,”

“No,” the man chuckles, “I can show up when you say it once, if you say it with the intent of wanting me to show up,” Wooyoung informs you.

“That is nice to know, no one really tells me anything,”

“Do they really keep Angels ignorant on Hell and its beings?,” Wooyoung questions.

“Yes, at least me,” you tell him, not caring about the cons of doing so.

“May I ask you a question Cherry?,”

“Yes,”

“Why do they keep you ignorant, if they know a King of Hell is out to get you?,”

“They probably want you to take me away,” you say before realizing the words that have fallen from your mouth. You put your hand over your mouth like it would’ve taken back what you said, but it wouldn’t. The tears fall from your eyes before you can stop them.

“Cherry, please don’t cry. Why would you think Heaven doesn’t want one of its Angels?,” he says, trying to comfort you.

“I can’t say,” you whisper, looking up at the man who is now a lot closer to you than he previously was. “I’ve already told you too much,”

“You can tell me anything and everything,”

“I can’t,”

“Why can’t you?,”

“Because, you’re a King of Hell, and I’m a Guardian Angel. That isn’t a good combination,”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,”

“What do you want with me anyway,”

“Do you remember what I told you the first time we met,”

“That you were searching for the love of your life?,”

“Yes, what does that have to do with me Wooyoung?,”

“Just listen to me, the eight other Kings and I are destined to have the same lover,”

“You are all dating each other?,”

“No, we are all destined to be with the same person,”

“Like a poly relationship?,”

“Yes,”

“So eight people dating one person?,”

“Yes, Cherry,”

“Well I am happy for you, but I’m still confused on how I am involved, do you need me to help you look for them? I figured you’d have enough people who’d be willing to do that for you anyway,” you scoff.

“Cherry, it’s you,” his words leave you baffled. There is no way you are a soulmate to a King of Hell, let alone eight.

“Get out,” you hiss.

“Let me explain,”

“Get out,”

“If you wish, but I’ll be near, you know that,”

“Get out,”

—“Cherry, please don’t cry. Why would you think Heaven doesn’t want one of its Angels?,” he says, trying to comfort you.

“I can’t say,” you whisper, looking up at the man who is now a lot closer to you than he previously was. “I’ve already told you too much,”

“You can tell me anything and everything,”

“I can’t,”

“Why can’t you?,”

“Because, you’re a King of Hell, and I’m a Guardian Angel. That isn’t a good combination,”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,”

“What do you want with me anyway,”

“Do you remember what I told you the first time we met,”

“That you were searching for the love of your life?,”

“Yes, what does that have to do with me Wooyoung?,”

“Just listen to me, the eight other Kings and I are destined to have the same lover,”

“You are all dating each other?,”

“No, we are all destined to be with the same person,”

“Like a poly relationship?,”

“Yes,”

“So eight people dating one person?,”

“Yes, Cherry,”

“Cherry, it’s you,” his words leave you baffled. There is no way you are a soulmate to a King of Hell, let alone eight.

“Get out,” you hiss.

“Let me explain,”

“Get out,”

“If you wish, but I’ll be near, you know that,”

“Get out,”

—

It’s been an hour or so since you kicked the man out, and you should feel bad. You just couldn’t grasp how he came to that realization. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him. You haven’t even known his name for a full day yet, and he’s telling you that you’re destined to be the soulmate of eight Demons? As a Guardian Angel? He is out of his mind.

You begin to cry out of frustration, you knew his interest in you was weird, but you didn’t expect this. You are glad he found you when you were an Angel and not a human because had he found you earlier, he likely wouldn’t have hesitated to take you back to Hell.

He surely didn’t think it through, he could end up hating you. Or the other Kings. Then what? Do they kill you? Torture you for eternity? For someone as old as him he should know better. He should have known you would never go with him.

As soon as the sun comes up, you know it’s time for you to go back. You hope he will leave you alone, and you hope to put this behind you.

—

As soon as you reach Heaven, you go to find Angel Zen. As much as you hated asking for help, you knew you needed his. You go to the prayer hall, not even bothering to shower yet. You see him talking to another Angel towards the front of the prayer hall.

“Angel Zen, I need your help,” you shout, causing the other Angel to run off somewhere.

“Why are you in here unbathed?,”

“I apologize, but I need your help,”

“What do you need?,”

“I need a new assignment, I need something else to do, please believe me,”

“Why is that?,”

“Please, I have already lost everything,”

“Once you start playing with fire, you need to learn how to hose yourself off,”

You fall to your knees as sobs begin to fall down your mouth, you didn’t know what else to do. You don’t know how to save yourself, you’re alone in this battle.

“I will see what I can do, it is challenging to find an Angel to take your spot. Every Angel has its purpose. Angels fall every day, so it makes it harder. But you are strong, resisting lust’s charm. I will try since you are such a strong little Angel. But next time, don’t mess with something that you know you can’t handle,”

Relief fills your being as you hear that Angel Zen will help you. Although he was still his same unkind self, he was willing to help you. A human quality of stubbornness helped you in a time of need, which you are grateful.

“Now go shower. Never come in the prayer hall with the smell of Earth on you ever again,” Angel Zen commands as he points to the exit of the prayer hall. You are out instantly, going straight to get your clothes and going to the showers. You wash off the contents of the day before going back to the prayer hall with your Bible in hand.

Once you enter the prayer hall, you sit down in your assigned spot. You begin to read the Bible to pass the time before the actual prayer starts. You have to become more serious with this — more believing. Or Angel Zen’s help would have been in vain. If anything, you know when to be grateful. Even though you are sure that your relationship with Poppy is irreparable, her faith in God is admirable as an Angel. You aspire to believe in the way she does, maybe if you did you wouldn’t have gotten in this mess at all.

Once the prayer ends, you feel empty. Poppy is still nowhere to be seen and instead of her walking up to you, it is Angel Zen.

“I have been able to find a replacement but not for tonight. Can you handle one more night on your assignment?,” Angel Zen questions.

“Yes, sir, I can handle one more night on assignment,” you answer honestly.

“Okay. Don’t let the Demon become any of the wiser. Come to me after you finish the assignment,”

“Yes sir,”

After your conversation with Angel Zen, you go straight to your room to recuperate. Perhaps now, you can become more focused on what is more important. Maybe you can see Poppy. But at least you know that after tonight, you will no longer have to see that Demon again.

tags:

@multifictionx @pre1ttyies @hecateslittlewitchling @adorawritesalot @unlikelysublimekryptonite @loumin908 @kirbrary @sunasmoke22 @ylak @yoonshiiu

117 notes · View notes

rip-quizilla · 1 year ago

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: An enemies to friends to enemies to lovers story. Slow-burn love story based on the film "When Harry Met Sally"

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, eventual smut, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

“The first time we met, we hated each other.”

“No, you didn’t hate me, I hated you.”

“The second time we met, you didn’t remember me-”

“I did too, I remembered you!”

“The third time we met, we became friends.”

“We were friends for a long time.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“And then we fell in love.”

Part 1

The first time you met Eddie Munson, he was dressed as Jason Voorhees.

It was Halloween, so the mask wasn’t completely out of the blue. He was 13, his hair was buzzed, and you had never (to your knowledge) spoken a single word to the boy.

The year was 1979. You and your best friend, Robin, had made the executive decision that you were too old for trick-or-treating, opting to stay home and watch scary movies in your bedroom instead. Deaf to the rest of the world, the two of you had holed yourselves up in the darkness of your room, huddled together in front of your TV set under a patchwork quilt your grandmother had made as you watched Carrie go on a blood-soaked killing spree.

Both of you swore up and down that you weren’t scared, but that didn’t stop either of you from screaming like banshees when a tap at your window revealed Jason’s hockey mask and a plastic knife.

Though you were only 13 yourself, you’d furiously thrown open your window, jammed your bare feet into a pair of sneakers and launched yourself into a high-speed chase after the stupid, stupid soul who had tried to make a fool out of the wrong girl.

It hadn’t taken you long to catch up to him; the masked menace had slowed down once he’d thought he was far enough from your house. You could see him up ahead, laughing with his friends and reenacting your terrified screams as he waved the prop knife in the air.

You never stopped running, waiting until you were just about thirty feet from pint-sized Jason before yelling, “You’re dead, dipshit!”

Even though he was wearing a mask, your adversary’s body language spoke for itself- from the way he froze, then turned in the direction of your voice, then took off running- you could tell that he hadn’t expected you to race after him. His friends watched, dazed as you shoved them aside in pursuit of the punk in a mask that you were gaining on with every stride. When you finally caught up to him in the grassy field beside the neighborhood playground, you grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked as hard as you could.

The kid hit the ground with a loud “Oof”, throwing up his hands in surrender as you stood over him and took the lapels of his denim jacket in your two clenched fists. You could see his big brown eyes behind the mask, wide with terror that matched the shrillness in his voice.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey hold- HOLD ON!” He raised his hands out defensively in front of his face. “I’m sorry, okay? Jeez, you caught me, I’m caught, I surrender!”

You paused, glaring at the little heathen for a second before shoving him back on the ground. As soon as you let go, you heard a muffled sigh of release behind the mask as the terror before you unmasked himself. You recognized the kid’s face, but couldn’t quite place where you knew him from.

“Do I know you?” you asked, hands placed on your hips. You took a couple of steps back, allowing him room to push himself off the ground.

The kid looked at his feet, avoiding your eye contact as he huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course.” he muttered to himself before answering your question at normal volume. “Yeah, uh, Eddie Munson. We have history together.”

You watched him, unmoving, raising an eyebrow. When he looked up and saw your skeptical expression, his eyes widened and he practically hopped up off the ground. “Class! History class!” He brushed his hands on his jeans before shoving them in his pockets and looking back down at the grass between his sneakers. “We’re in the same history class.”

You nodded slowly, still struggling to place him in your memory. “Cool.” you replied, face expressionless. “So you snuck over to my window in a Jason mask… why? Exactly?” Your tone was sharp and accusing.

The kid- Eddie- looked at you confused, as if he hadn’t heard you right. He looked around, gesturing vaguely to the various trick-or-treaters, plastic pumpkin heads and candy-filled pillow cases held in each sticky little fist.

“It’s Halloween,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going to everyone’s windows.”

“Just to scare people?” You asked, the accusatory tone of your voice impossible to miss. “You have nothing better to do?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he defensively avoided your eyes. You waited a moment in silence before huffing out a breath and stomping past him. Robin was still sitting in your bedroom, undoubtedly on the verge of a nervous breakdown after being scared half to death and abandoned soon thereafter.

“Whatever. Stay away from me.” you left him with those parting words and marched back to your house, Ready to go back to school on Monday and thoroughly ignore him in history class.

The second time you met Eddie Munson, you were at the Hawkins High Winter Formal, circa 1982.

You were clip-clopping angrily in your satin heels and ignoring the obnoxious way they echoed in the eerily empty tiled hallway. “Tyler, hold on.” you bit out, struggling to keep the desperation in your chest from seeping into your tone. “Tyler, wait!” You reached out and managed to grab your date by the crook of his elbow, but he shrugged you off.

“Forget it, I’m going.” he grunted, not even bothering to face you. “I never wanted to go to this dumb dance anyway.”

The cool chill of December night air hit you hard as he launched the exit doors open. Your arms flew up to shield your bare shoulders from the icy breeze, heels crunching against the uneven concrete as you stepped through the open doorway.

“Tyler, this is so stupid! Just come back inside, it’s freezing!”

He just shook his head, making a beeline for his beat-up baby blue pickup. You’d matched your dress to that pickup. You had searched every boutique in Hawkins to find the perfect shade of baby blue… and now he was leaving you to drive away in it.

Tyler continued to ignore you as he opened the driver-side door, hopped in, stuck his key in the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot. That left you standing in the cold, shivering in silence- completely alone.

Or so you’d thought.

“Trouble in paradise?”

The taunting question came from behind you, some twenty feet or so down the wall. You turned to see who had witnessed your embarrassingly loud spat with your date, and immediately gave a sigh and an eye roll when you saw who it was.

Eddie’s hair had grown long over the years, dark curls now coiled past his earlobes, just shy of brushing the shoulders of his black leather jacket. The way it framed his face in the warm lamplight- it struck you that Eddie Munson was actually kind of pretty. Certainly easier on the eyes than he had been with that ridiculous buzzcut. You were surprised to see him here- dances didn’t seem like his thing. Obviously, he didn’t know the meaning of the word formal, judging by the absence of any clothing items that might deserve the word. He leaned casually against the dimly-lit brick wall, hands in his pockets and eyeing you curiously.

“Mind your business, Munson.” You scowled, turning to grasp the handle of the door- and felt your heart plummet when you realized the door was locked.

“All the doors but the ones by the front office are set to lock from the outside.” Eddie supplied you with an answer to a question you hadn’t needed to ask. “You’ll have to go all the way around.”

You huffed out a frustrated, humorless chuckle. “I wouldn’t say I’m all too eager to go back in there in the first place.”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you. Weighing your options for a moment, you settled on postponing your inevitable embarrassment by joining Eddie Munson in leaning against the painted brick wall. You knew the way your friends talked about Tyler; how they’d tell you he was always an asshole and they’d told you such since the beginning of your relationship.

You’d rather deal with the school outcast right now.

Eddie’s eyebrows stayed raised on his forehead for nearly a full minute once you took up your spot next to him on the wall. You didn’t say anything, not for a while. Finally, the silence was broken when you let out a loud, involuntary shiver, hands clutching your shoulders and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a desperate attempt to warm up.

Eddie glanced over at you, rolling his eyes at how pointedly you were avoiding his eye contact. Letting out a heavy sigh, he asked with the least amount of enthusiasm possible-

“Do you want my jacket?”

You looked up at him, a look that mixed incredulity and disgust painted across your expression. “Well not when you ask like that.”

Eddie scrunched up his nose, dropping one eyebrow while the other stood its ground. “Like what?”

“Like it’s an obligation.”

“Like what’s an obligation?”

You huffed, “Offering me your jacket!”

Eddie chuckled humorlessly, “Now why,” he spoke your first and last name as if it were a pompous title like ‘Grand Duchess’ or ‘Queen of Sheba’, “-would I feel obligated to offer you my jacket?”

You huffed. Again. The sound of your heels crunching once more over the pavement as you turned to face him tore through the silent winter air. You couldn’t believe you were explaining this to him, as if he didn’t already know.

“When a girl is cold, and she doesn't have a jacket, boys are taught that they’re supposed to offer that girl their jacket.”

Eddie nodded as you spoke, as if he were an eager student learning something life-changing from his favorite professor. “Fascinating, fascinating… and who teaches this to boys?”

You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, wishing he would just give up the bit and hand over his jacket. “Seriously?”

He waited, smiling eagerly. You couldn’t stand this guy.

“Ugh, I don’t know, fathers, I guess?”

“Ahh, well you see-” Eddie muttered, waving his pointer finger in the air as if he were about to shout ‘eureka’. “-I didn’t grow up with a father, so where did I learn it then?”

You knew he was trying to make you feel bad. Trying to make you uncomfortable so you left him alone. You wouldn’t play his game, though.

Giving him a haughty smile and shaking your head slightly, you replied, “Well maybe your mother knew to teach you anyways and you learned it from her.”

Eddie sucked his teeth, making a sympathetic hiss to accompany the wince on his face. “That’s the thing, my mom’s dead so I don’t have one of those either.”

You came up short after that one. Remorse weighed heavy in your chest, realizing that the game you were playing may not be worth winning.

You were both silent for nearly a minute before you spoke-

“Does the offer to take your jacket still stand?”

“What if it doesn’t?” His retort was bitter and immediate.

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes and hanging your head in defeat. “Then I would understand completely, due to my being a bitch.”

He looked at you, took in your pitiful, shivering form, and rolled his eyes again. “Jesus Christ, here-”

Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders. You immediately felt yourself relax into it, feeling the warm satiny lining melt like butter onto your gooseflesh skin. You tugged it tight around yourself and slipped your arms into the sleeves.

“Thank you.” you said warmly, giving him a grateful and apologetic smile.

Silence settled over the two of you again, and you were curious if he felt the elephant in the room trumpeting as loudly as you did. You decided to test the waters.

“So… what did you do this Halloween?”

You nearly jumped when Eddie clapped loudly, spinning in a circle and grinning at you like a kid who’d just beat their high score at the arcade.

“You remember!” He laughed, elated and grinning at you so largely that you couldn’t help but grin in return.

“Remember what? The heart attack you almost gave me, or the look on your face when I tackled you to the ground?” You were laughing with him, pride and nostalgia painting your smile with colors that matched the glee in his eyes. He’d remembered that night for years, he couldn’t get it out of his head if he tried.

“How about the way it made you remember my name?” His eyes sparkled, cockiness written on every inch of his face.

You gawked, a little bit impressed by his forwardness. Was Eddie Munson flirting with you? That was the last thing you’d expected out of tonight. You decided to play along.

“Well yeah, how else was I going to report you to the police for public disturbance?”

“You could’ve just given them a physical description and they’d’ve known it was me, disturbing the public is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“It was dark, I couldn’t see you well enough to give a thorough description.”

“You can see me now, what would you tell them?”

Eddie was quiet, patient…waiting for you to take the bait. You were just about to, before you were interrupted by the rev of an engine at the end of the parking lot. It snapped you out of your trance.

Glancing up toward the source of the sound, you felt a wash of relief when you identified it as Tyler’s pickup truck. Quickly, you slipped out of Eddie’s jacket, shoving it into his arms and rushing to meet Tyler at the curb. You stopped after a few steps to look back at Eddie.

“That’s Tyler, I need to go talk to him. Thanks for letting me wear your jacket, and I’m sorry about-”

Eddie hissed out a sharp laugh, digging into his pockets and retrieving a cigarette and lighter. He shook his head ruefully, muttering a “Just go. Have fun at the dance.” and that was that. You were dismissed, conversation over.

Which was a good thing, right? Tyler wouldn’t like you hanging out with “The Freak”… This was better. You took a few more steps forward, stopped, then looked over your shoulder one more time at Eddie.

He was staring straight at you. Your heart rate accelerated exponentially.

BEEP BEEEEEP!

Tyler was parked at the curb.

Plastering a forgiving smile on your face you rushed to the truck. “Coming, I’m coming!”

Eddie watched you climb into the car. He looked away when Tyler the asshat glared daggers at him. He pretended to be more interested in his cigarette than the fact that this guy treated you like garbage, yet you still ran to him like a lost puppy. He ignored the wishful thinking that someone might ever look at him the way you’d just looked when that truck pulled up to the curb.

Your dress matched his car. Had you done that on purpose? If he had asked a girl to the dance, would she have found a dress to match his van? That would be a horrible idea, his van was dingleberry brown and laminate countertop yellow. Eddie was pretty sure those weren’t going to be colors featured in the latest Gunne Sax catalog.

Tyler’s baby blue pickup parked in the back of the lot. Eddie watched the lights shut off. Neither of you got out of the truck.

He took another drag from his cigarette.

The third time you met Eddie Munson was in the theater department during your junior year.

You’d joined theater because you needed the fine arts credit. Thus far in your high school career, you hadn’t signed up for choir (your voice sucked), band (you didn’t have time to practice with your part time job at Scoops Ahoy), or drawing & painting (you couldn’t draw for shit). Ergo, theater was your only option. Unfortunately for you- and for the theater director, Mr. Chavez- you soon discovered that you have horrible stage fright.

In lieu of forcing you to play a part onstage, Mr. Chavez said he would award you credit for the class if you agreed to be stage manager for this year’s spring play. That was why you were in the theater department late into the afternoon on a Friday, gluing fake moss to a fake tree.

You’d been warned that the Dungeons &Dragons club had their sessions in the theater on Friday nights, so you weren’t surprised when Eddie Munson and his band of merry nerds waltzed into the auditorium.

Eddie, however, was surprised to see you.

He paused mid-sentence when he was greeted by the sight of you, hot glue gun in hand, bent over a long piece of cardboard cut to resemble a cartoonish-looking tree.

“Uhh,” he started, “Hellfire has the auditorium on Fridays.”

You nodded, glancing up at him as if you’d just noticed his presence. “Yeah, I’ll stay out of your way, just working on set pieces for the play. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you suspiciously. “I doubt that.” he muttered, but it was loud enough for you to hear. You took the high road and chose to ignore it.

You stayed focused on your half-finished cardboard tree while Eddie and his cronies began setting up for whatever Dungeons & Dragons was. You were pretty sure it was a board game or something, you hadn’t heard much about it other than it was another thing that everyone made fun of Eddie for.

Time passed. You held true to your word- as more Hellfire members showed up and sat down to begin their game, you continued to mind your business and silently work on your set pieces. You remained quiet as a mouse, but as time continued to tick on, you couldn’t help but catch bits and pieces of Eddie’s narration as the game progressed. You’d finished your work about forty-five minutes after the game began, but you’d become so engrossed in the story that Eddie was spinning for his friends that you pretended to be busy until their playing drew to a close for the night. You could see why these kids loved the game when they had someone like Eddie leading them through the storyline- he was a very immersive storyteller, unafraid to use a different voice for every character, transforming every aspect of himself to suit the needs of the story.

When they all began to pack up, you did the same and busied yourself with gathering your belongings into your backpack. To your surprise, you noticed a pair of Chuck Taylors out of your peripheral walking toward you.

“You uhh…” Eddie said, bending a knee to help you gather your things. “...you get all of your work done?”

You gratefully accepted your composition notebook from him. “Um, everything I needed to finish tonight, yeah.” You replied, offering him a smile. “That game actually seems cool, you’re a good storyteller.”

That seemed to flatter him enough to elicit a genuine smile. “Yeah? You liked it?” you nodded, grin slipping further until it showed your teeth. Eddie tucked his head down shyly, but still unable to hide the obvious satisfaction on his face. “So when’s the play?”

You sighed. “Not for about three weeks. I’m the stage manager, so I’ve got my work cut out for me… pretty sure I’ll need to keep staying late on Fridays until then if I’m going to be ready in time-”

“You can’t work on it any other day of the week?” He interrupted.

You balked. Well, at least he isn’t beating around the bush… but still, rude.

Eddie, who winced the moment he’d spoken, seemed to read your mind. “Shit, that came across ruder than I’d meant- I just meant that I didn’t realize you were so busy every other day.”

You eyed him suspiciously. Yeah, sure. Nice save.

“Well,” you sigh, “I tutor on Mondays and Tuesdays, work on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, and-”

“Where do you work?” Eddie interrupted… again.

You tried not to let your frustration seep into your tone. “I, uhh, I work at that ice cream shop at the mall, Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie’s smug smile was slow as it crept across his face. “Wait… is that the place with the little sailor outfits?”

You rolled your eyes; you’d walked right into this one. “Yes, it is.”

He bit his lip, like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. “Geez, they better pay you well if you have to wear that monstrosity.”

You chuckled, zipping up your backpack and pulling it over your shoulder as you stood up. “Yeah, pay’s not too bad. It’s enough that I should be able to pay to get my car fixed by the end of the school year, so that-”

“What happened to your car?”

You huffed, annoyed. “God, Munson, you ever heard someone finish a sentence before?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, his open mouth clamping shut. Your angry eyes softened- your tone had been a bit harsh.

“Sorry-”

You both apologized simultaneously, followed by a chuckle from the both of you. After a beat of silence, Eddie smiled tightly and gestured for you to go first.

“I drive an old car, and it needs a few parts replaced before I can take it back out on the road safely… so until then, I’m a perpetual pedestrian.”

Eddie frowned, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re walking home?”

You nodded, not seeing the problem. “I don’t live far, it’s only a ten minute walk.”

He didn’t seem satisfied by that reply. “It’s pretty dark out, you want me to just drive you home?”

You opened your mouth to decline his offer, but no sound came out. He had a point- the path home wasn’t very well-lit; some might even consider it dangerous, since there wasn’t a sidewalk for most of your route. You gave him a slightly apologetic smile.

“You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

He shook his head, eyebrows scrunching as if it were ludicrous for you to even ask the question. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Gesturing to the table- which was now deserted by the other members (when had they all left?)- Eddie said, “Just let me get all my stuff together and we’ll head out, cool?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Eddie.”

He waved you off, busying himself with the multitudes of papers and little plastic figures strewn across the table.

Once you were both ready to leave, you followed Eddie out to his car- er, van. It was a very large van. Once inside, the smell of weed was unmistakable. Eddie realized this the moment you sat down.

“Sorry about the, uh…” he began, wincing and gesturing to the air around him.

“...weed smell?” you supplied, smirking.

He barked out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t know if you’d recognize it.”

You feigned offense, placing a dramatic hand over your heart as he turned the key in the ignition. “Edward Munson, are you drawing the conclusion that I’m a prude who can’t place the smell of marijuana?”

He laughed- a real laugh, haughty and unbridled. “Well for starters, people who smoke marijuana don’t call it marijuana.” You felt the shocks working beneath your seat as he shifted the car from park to drive, pulling out of his parking space and exiting the lot.

“Okay, you blew my cover.” You giggled. “What do you call it, then?”

Eddie made a show of thinking it over. “Oh, lots of things- weed, mary jane, grass- the devil’s lettuce is my personal favorite.”

You snorted. “That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“I love teaching people new things.” Eddie smiled, taking his eyes off the road a moment to flash another smile in your direction.

A comfortable quiet settled over the van, breaking only for you to advise Eddie on which turns to take on the way to your house.

After a few moments of silence, Eddie spoke up.

“So are you still dating that guy… Timmy, Tucker…?”

“You mean Tyler?” you supplied.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “God, don’t remind me I ever dated that asshole.” smiling ruefully, you shook your head. “No, he was bad news. A whole three months of my life wasted that I’ll never get back.”

Eddie whistled. “Damn, guy really did a number on you, huh?”

You shrugged. “I think I was so obsessed with the idea of being with someone like him that I missed all the red flags that were so obvious to everyone else. It hurt for a while after I finally broke up with him, but I got over it.”

He was quiet, contemplative as he nodded to your words. You turned to face Eddie completely. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve never heard about you going out with anyone.”

Eddie snorted. “Even if I was going out with someone, I doubt you’d hear about it.”

Your brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean my love life- nonexistent as it is- isn’t exactly the hot gossip of Hawkins High.” Eddie’s eyes never wavered from the road ahead as he turned into your neighborhood.

You raised your eyebrows at that. “Actually, if you dated someone I think a lot of people would talk about it.”

Eddie looked at you, confused, almost like he didn’t believe you.

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “When somebody dates all the time, no one really cares who the next person they date is. But when somebody who never dates starts dating somebody, everybody talks about it.”

His expression remained unchanged as he digested that information. After a moment, he sighed, replying, “In that case, I’m never dating anyone until I’m out of Hawkins.”

“What? Why?” you pointed out your house at the end of the street.

“Because I wouldn’t wish school-wide gossip on anyone, it’s taken me a lifetime to get used to it.” He gave you a snarky smile and shook his head. “Most people aren’t as strong as I am, they’d crack under the weight of infamy.”

You countered his snark with disbelief, but couldn’t hide a smile at his reply. “Well I’m glad you have such a high opinion of yourself, Eddie, but I think you need to give people more credit. The right person wouldn’t care about the gossip, they’d care about you more.”

The van jolted as it came to a stop in front of your house. “Well if I ever find someone who fits that description, I’ll let you know,” Eddie replied, “but until then, I think I’ll let people keep gossiping about me for the normal reasons.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hauling your heavy backpack onto your lap. “Such as…?”

“Devil worshiper, white trash, spawn of satan…” Eddie made a show of counting them out on his fingers. You giggled. He grinned.

“Well, in all seriousness-” you said softly, “I think you’re selling yourself short. I mean don’t get me wrong, you can be annoying as all hell,” You gave him a pointed glance, silently laughing a bit at his wry side-eye, “but from what I can tell, there’s a nice guy hiding underneath all that rockstar hair.”

“Rockstar hair, huh?” You nodded and his grin grew wider, now accompanied by a blush that Eddie hoped you wouldn't see if he looked down at his lap and let his ‘rockstar hair’ form a curtain around his face. You caught it anyway. “While calling me ‘nice’ is very… generous of you, you don’t really know shit about me so I’m not sure that you’re a qualified source-”

“I know you’re the kind of guy who gives his jacket to girls whose dates leave them at dances, and doesn’t embarrass them with questions about why the date is leaving.” It was your turn to interrupt him now. “And now I know you’re also the kind of guy who cares enough to give someone a ride home because it’s dark enough outside for him to fear for their safety.”

Eddie was quiet, smiling tightly but refusing to meet your eyes. “Well…” he drew the word out until it was three-syllables long. Shyly, he looked up at you through his dark brown curls. “...that’s what friends do, right?”

The smile that bloomed across your face was so sudden, it surprised even you. “We’re friends now, huh?”

He mirrored your smile, back to his devil-may-care brashness that you’d come to expect from him. “I said no such thing, now get out of my van.” His words did nothing to dampen the joy evident on his face.

You laughed in response, pulling the handle of your door to do just that. “Don’t lie to yourself, Munson, I know what I heard!” Your smile was kind, but your eyes said something along the lines of na-na na-na na na.

He said nothing for a moment, just smiled back at you before shaking his head.

“Bye, friend.”

Your shoulders shook in a gentle laugh, and you replied, “Bye, friend.” before closing the car door and walking up the concrete walkway to your front porch. Eddie waited until you were inside before driving away.

That day, four years and five months after you’d initially met Eddie Munson, was the first day of one of the strongest friendships of your life.

That friendship would last for about one year.

Part 2

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #I get that these tags are all over the place but I promise I have a plan

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