#those are my thoughts and i'm sure i'll have more but

[cielito--lindo]

miss communication

a/n: still working on the new chapter for crawling back to you, but this little drabble wouldn't leave my mind today - i live for oblivious kats. my sweet little angry idiot. bakugou x reader, use of y/n, oblivious!bakugou, fluff, transfer student!reader

it was the third night in a row that you and sero had come back late from "training" and it started to grate on Katsuki's nerves, I mean sure he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, but he was your assigned training partner, so it makes more sense for you to spar with him than fuckin' tape face - OF ALL PEOPLE.

he muttered annoyed rambling under his breath as he whisked the egg batter into submission.

"easy there, cowboy" you grinned at him, plopping down on one of the seats at the kitchen island "what'd those poor eggs do to you?"

his eye twitched in annoyance "shut up" he grumbled, slowing down his speed down a notch "you try making meringue by hand."

you barked out a laugh "you've banned me from the kitchen, remember?"

"oh yes, how could i forget the horrors of the chef boyardee incident?" katsuki rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his face "i don't even know how the fuck you got your grubby little hands on a can of that toxic shit."

"had my ma smuggle me a can the last time she visited" you grinned "in my defense, you weren't here to feed me, so in reality this was all your fault." you blew him a kiss as you hopped off your stool, making your way back to the common room.

katsuki felt his heart clench at the look of fondness radiating from your annoyingly pretty eyes. god, he wished he could hate you.

when you transferred into Class A during second year, he knew you were going to be a pain in his ass. it felt like he couldn't take a step without you being there or someone bringing you up in converstation, it took a turn for the worst when aizawa paired you up together.

for as annoying you were around your classmates, it was like a switch flipped during your sparring matches. you gave it your all everytime, even when katsuki could see the spasms in your muscles from overuse. he respected that. slowly..incredibly slowly...you broke down his walls piece by piece. brick by brick. the first time you pinned him to the mat was when he acknowledged to himself that maybe he had some sort of feelings for you that weren't annoyance.

you had invited him to the class movie night with a pleading sort of smile, promising him his favorite snacks "i'll even let you give denki a head slap when he interrupts with his stupid brain rot shit."

"three headslaps and you run four miles with me in the morning."

"two headslaps and two miles, but you have you buy me coffee after."

katsuki pretended to weigh his options, knowing he'd agree to anything "fine. deal."

you practically squealed and kissed his cheek "i'll save you a seat!"

katsuki was frozen to the spot, his cheek felt like it was burning where you had placed your soft lips. your coconut perfume still lingering in the air. "ah, fuck." he groaned, knowing he had to confess to you now or it was going to drive him insane. he had a whole plan thought out by the time the movie was about to start, but when he got there, he found you curled up around sero's side. your head resting comfortably on low-budget spiderman's shoulder. for the second time that day, he felt himself freeze.

"i'm a fucking idiot" he thought to himself, thankfully you hadn't seen him yet. he turned on his heel and immediately headed back to his room.

and now here he is, whipping up your favorite raspberry macarons because you had asked him to. he resumed his grumbling when mina and ochako giggled their way into the kitchen, rooting around the fridge. "ugh, y/n and sero are adorable, it's almost sickening" Mina sipped her drink, eyeing the blonde discreetly.

katsuki's ears perked up at the sound of your name.

"i'm glad she has family around!" ochako commented, smiling "i know she's been feeling homesick lately."

family??

"Oi, cheeks!" katsuki growled, clutching the piping bag tight in his hand "what do you mean, family?"

mina and ochako exchanged a look "oh, did you not know? y/n and sero are cousins!"

mina gave katsuki a smile that screamed "i fucking told you"

"sero was the one who convinced aizawa to let y/n transfer into our class after mineta got expelled. she's been begging him to extra sparring sessions since you suddenly became...busy. if your schedule frees up soon, you should talk to her, kats." mina winked "wouldn't want there to be any..miscommunications."

the two girls sauntered away leaving katsuki alone with his desserts

"COUSINS?!"

[jedi-enthusiast]

And trying to talk sense into bigoted idiots like you who don't bother to do their research is somehow worse than trying to talk sense into a MAGA Republican.

Real quick, because I know you just heard the word from some TikToker with a couple thousand likes on their video, what EXACTLY is a Zionist? What's the definition, since you're so "well-informed" and totally not just parroting shit you've heard on social media?

...no answer? Great! The definition of Zionism, in it's simplist definition because there are many different sects, is just "the national movement for the return of the Jewish people to their homeland and the resumption of Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel" ...which, since I'm sure you'll find some way to turn this into a bad thing, is basically just the Jewish version of a "land back" movement.

To quote this page which answers the question "is Zionism Racism?":

"Zionism is the national liberation movement of the Jewish people, which holds that Jews, like any other nation, are entitled to a homeland. History has demonstrated the need to ensure Jewish security through a national homeland. Zionism recognizes that Jewishness is defined by shared origin, religion, culture and history. The realization of the Zionist dream is exemplified by more than four million Jews, from more than 100 countries, including dark-skinned Jews from Ethiopia, Yemen and India, who are Israeli citizens. Approximately 1,000,000 Muslim and Christian Arabs, Druze, Baha'is, Circassians and other ethnic groups also are represented in Israel's population."

So, in short: no, it's not racism.

And I KNOW you didn't bother to do any research because, if you did, you'd know that the ACTUAL movement you should hate is Kahanism, which is a racist fascist ideology that seeks to take over every part of the Palestinian territories, keep Jews and non-Jews segregated, and then either expel or enslave Palestinians and non-Jews.

Just because bigots like you decided to take a word you knew NOTHING about, do ZERO research, and then use it to justify your antisemitism and xenophobia doesn't change the actual meaning of the word---and I'm not gonna let you assholes try and rewrite this shit to act like your the "good guys" for being antisemites.

-----------

Now onto your actual points:

1. When did I say Jews were the only people who've ever been genocided? I pointed out the fact that it was a word coined by a Jew for a Jewish tragedy because CLEARLY all of you forgot that---which shows by you calling Jews nazis, saying they're the same or WORSE than the people who murdered millions of their people, and trying to turn the Holocaust into something it's not by making about every other group but Jews.

Maybe if y'all actually thought before you said shit like "what's happening in Palestine is the new Holocaust" (something I have seen multiple people say) then maybe I wouldn't feel the need to remind you where the word "genocide" comes from.

2. By all means, please point to the specific article that says that 7.9% of Palestine's population, which would be 395,000 people, have been killed---because my numbers have been reported on by MULTIPLE articles. Not to mention that, if you're saying that the original numbers they had were actually wrong and there's 40% MORE people dying, then their original numbers are also vastly different from every other paper reporting on the comflict---putting their original "wrong" numbers at 237,000 dead.

Not to mention that Israel has, for the most part, TRIED to reach a ceasefire but Hamas keeps refusing to give back the hostages and the bodies of those who've died---which, I'll remind y'all, is a fucking war crime.

3. Where did I say that unless the number is big people dying is fine? Where? If you'd bothered to look at literally any other post I've made on the subject, you'd know that I constantly HARP on the fact that people dying in this war AT ALL is HORRIBLE and TRAGIC and that I feel terrible for all of those affected. However, this was a post I made to discuss the statistics of wartime deaths vs. the Holocaust---since that is what people like you constantly compare this conflict to.

I was pointing out the numbers because, from how people like you like to act, you're treating this WAR as if Israel is the only country in the world that has ever gone to war and had civilian deaths---that Israel is SINGULAR in how terrible and awful they are. You don't treat any other country, or any other group, as awful as you treat Israelis and Jews for things that their GOVERNMENT is doing.

Russia is also in a war with Ukraine, and this war more closely resembles a genocide than the Israel/Hamas war, so where is this attitude towards Russians? Why are y'all not harassing Russians? Why are y'all not saying Russia should be nuked off the face of the earth along with everyone in it? Why aren't y'all demanding that Russians be excluded from literally every world event because they're "evil?"

I don't actually think these things should happen, but I find it pretty interesting that y'all will do this shit/defend it happening to Jews and Israelis because of your "moral outrage," but apparently your moral outrage only pops up where Jews and Israelis are involved?

Interesting.

4. How is me making a post pointing out that the Israel/Hamas WAR is not a GENOCIDE me running around with my head cut off?

Hamas may not be an official army, but they certainly are one---one whose literal CHARTER and GOALS state that they want Jews either enslaved or exterminated. They are a terrorist organization DEDICATED to this, so no I'm not gonna pretend that they're not a threat after what happened on Oct. 7th---where INNOCENT CIVILIANS were KIDNAPPED, RAPED, MUTILATED, AND MURDERED which includes WOMEN and CHILDREN.

I thought you cared about stuff like that, right? Oh, but apparently not, apparently the murder, rape, and kidnapping of innocent women and children doesn't matter when it comes to Jews and Israelis. Apparently Hamas isn't hurting anyone and isn't a threat even though they carried out Oct. 7th, even though they've been firing missiles and attacking Israel since then, even though people like YOU keep parroting their antisemitic lies and Jew-killing rhetoric or excusing their actions---therefore giving them more of a platform and more support for their cause [aka killing Jews].

I'm not gonna let y'all forget all the posts your movement made after Oct. 7th PRAISING what they did, being vocal about your support of them, and harassing anyone that tried to tell y'all that you were supporting terrorists.

And you wanna talk about Palestinian deaths? Why don't you talk about the fact that your beloved Hamas has stolen aid from Palestinian civilians and shot them when they've tried to take the aid meant for them? Why don't you talk about the fact that Hamas has made their bases in/below hospitals and schools and civilian areas so that they've become part of the "war zone" and therefore no longer safe (essentially trying to use the civilian population as a body shield)? Why don't you talk about the fact that Hamas is literally recruiting and using CHILD SOLDIERS for their attacks because they don't give a damn about children or civilians or Palestine?

Sorry but I'm not gonna take your "what about the WOMEN and CHILDREN" whining seriously when it's clear that you don't actually care about women and children, since you act like the deaths of Jewish and Israeli women and children don't matter and Hamas "isn't a threat" or "hasn't done anything" for people to worry about.

5. I'm sorry, but Israel literally houses 50% of the Jewish population in the ENTIRE WORLD, so yeah I'm gonna bring that up when people in your group are calling for the eradication of the country and everyone in it.

Also YOU GUYS are the ones that conflated Jews with Israel, YOU GUYS ARE THE ONES THAT STARTED THIS---you harass random Jews for no reason other than they're Jewish, you deface Jewish monuments and events, you want to exclude Jews from every space unless they denounce their Jewishness, you turned a Jewish word (Zionist) into some kind of slur, etc. etc.

YOU are the ones who did this, not me and not anyone else.

Also, not that it matters, but I'm not even Jewish (yet, at least) but it's funny how you saw someone calling out people like you for being a hypocrite when it comes to Israel and you IMMEDIATELY assumed that I was Jewish and trying to victimize myself---but who is conflating Israel with Jews again?

I don't think jack shit is gonna happen to me, personally. The antisemitism I've "faced" has largely just been miniscule in regards to my prospective conversion. But BECAUSE I stand for science, logic, and ethics I'm not gonna sit around and do nothing while bigots like you treat Jews and Israelis as sub-human for the crime of simply existing.

And finally 6. yeah, Israel and Palestine lived in peace for decades and I do believe they can do so again...but not with Hamas. HAMAS were the ones that broke the peace by carrying out Oct. 7th, HAMAS were the ones preventing a ceasefire by refusing to release the hostages, and HAMAS has to go if there's going to be any hope of peace---which is literally what the war is about. Dismantling Hamas.

I never once said civilian deaths were okay, that the deaths of children are okay, YOU are the one saying that and putting words in my mouth simply because I pointed out that you and yours hold Israel to a standard that you hold literally NO OTHER COUNTRY to.

So why don't YOU get your head out of your ass and go touch some grass?

Like I said, being a bigot in a rainbow t-shirt doesn't make you any better than the ones that wear swastikas 🤷‍♀️

I'm taking the word "genocide" away from Leftists and the "pro-Palestine" movement, because clearly y'all have never opened a single dictionary EVER and lack basic critical thinking.

The word "genocide" was coined by Polish Jew Raphael Lemkin to describe the horrifying systematic mass murder of Jews during the Holocaust, where 63% of all the Jews in Europe and 39% of all the Jews IN THE ENTIRE WORLD were murdered.

THAT is what genocide is.

Now let's take a look at a couple death toll estimates via the percent of the population during World War 2, since that's a pretty recent war that I'm sure everyone knows about:

Do you want to know the percent of the Japanese population that was killed during that war? 3.5%.

Now, guess the population percentage how many Germans were killed. Any guesses? 6%.

The US lost about .2% of our population, the French lost .5%, and then the British lost .55%.

Now that you have those statistics, what do you think the population percentage of Palestinians that have died during the Israel/Hamas war is? Any guesses?

It's 62,614 casualties, which we'll round up to 63,000 for simplicity, out of the total population of Palestine which is above 5 million (but we'll keep it at just 5 million for simplicity), and that gives us...

...1.26%.

I want all of you to take those numbers and think on that.

Think on whether or not you've ever tried to argue that Germans or the Japanese were being genocided in WW2, since they lost a bigger percentage of their population during that war than Palestine has.

Think on whether or not you've said that the US, UK, or any of the other Allied Powers should be nuked off the face of the earth, or that everyone---including civilians who've done nothing---should be murdered/raped/mutilated/etc. because of what their governments did during that war.

Think on whether or not you've harassed people from the US, UK, or other Allied countries for what went on during WW2 or excused harassment of them behind a tagline of "we're just protesting."

...

And then think on why you find it acceptable to treat Jews and Israelis like complete and utter SHIT, harass them, justify the murder and rape of their people, and say that the ONLY country that has ever actually been SAFE for them to live* should be wiped off of the face of the earth along with everyone living there (which is 50% of all the Jews in the entire world, mind you, which would be WORSE than what happened during the Holocaust...just so y'all know what you're advocating for)---for the "crime" of fighting in a war that was started by a terrorist organization dedicated to wiping Jews off the face of the earth, and having a total death toll percent less than what other countries had in WW2.

I want all of you to think real hard on that and then try to tell me that you're on "the right side of history" because you think being bigoted in a rainbow t-shirt makes you any better than the ones wearing swastikas.

[stanart4clearskin]

tattoo artist!art donaldson x reader

you weren't even sure why you had booked an appointment to get a tattoo. you hated willingly inflicting any pain on yourself and were always been weary around needles. your friend had mentioned that the new tattoo artist at her work was cute and you wanted to see what he looked like. booking a session with him may not have been the smartest idea to put a face to the mysterious figure but you had already checked in and were nervously waiting to be called into the back.

it had taken you a little over a week to finally decided what you wanted to get, but eventually you settled on getting a small star by your collarbone. sure it was basic and incredibly simple but you were really only getting it just to get a glimpse of the artist himself.

you were quickly snapped out of your train of thought when a voice called out your name. you looked up and were met with a face of a man who wasn't just cute. he was probably the most attractive guy you'd seen in a long time. instantly you felt your face go pink when he held eye contact. you quickly stood up and awkwardly shuffled behind him as he lead you to the bench where you'd be laying.

"so you wanted a star, right?" he asked, sliding on some black latex gloves as you laid down on the bench.

you nodded but quickly realized he couldn't see you since he was busy looking through his cart of supplies. "yeah," you said, cringing at how uncasual you managed to say a single word. you cleared your throat. "just a star."

"i'm art by the way," he said, turning back to face you. he was smiling and you couldn't help but turn even more red—even his smile was ridiculously attractive.

"it's nice to meet you, art." you said, awkwardly holding out your hand for him to shake. his grip was firm but not too strong and you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like for those hands to be grabbing you.

"have you ever gotten a tattoo before?" he asked as he finished preparing all of his supplied.

you shook your head. "this is my first."

art smiled, "i guess I'll be taking your virginity then." a beat passed before art realized just how wrong that had come out. his face heated up and he averted his gaze. "i did not mean it like that," he stammered, hands shaking as he poured some ink into an ink cap.

you laughed softly and shook your head. "i get what you meant."

-

“how come you don’t have any tattoos of your own?” you asked as art started to work on the star you wanted.

he shrugged, “i want one but i’m not a huge fan on needles. plus my nanna would throw a fit if i got one.”

you nodded in understanding. “i mean the pain isn’t that bad. i hate needles but i’m doing okay.”

art paused his work and looked up at you with a smirk. “you’ve whimpered like five times in the past two minutes and have already asked for a break. i really don’t think you’re doing okay.”

you flushed in embarrassment, “okay but at least i’m brave enough to get a tattoo,” you muttered, halfheartedly glaring at him.

in response he laughed, setting his pen down. “that’s your best attempt at a glare?”

“will you just continue tattooing?”

he shook his head, “i can’t. i’m laughing too much and my hand will probably slip if i continue working.”

a tattoo that should’ve taken less than 10 minutes ended up taking a whopping hour to complete. you didn’t mind because you got to spend more time talking to art. during your session you found out how he got into the business of being a tattoo artist, his favorite color, what college he went to, and his dog’s name. you weren’t sure whether he was flirting or just being friendly but you didn’t mind. simply having his attention was more than enough for you.

after art had explained to you the procedure for caring for you new tattoo, you were reluctant to leave. you knew that once you stepped foot out of the shop, you’d had no other way of contacting him besides booking another session.

“do you think i could get your number?” you blurted as art handed back your credit card. he blinked in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words to respond.

“you- you want my number?” he asked incredulously. in his years of working he’d had many girls ask for his number but this was the first time that he’d actually wanted to give it to a customer. as soon as you nodded he was scrambling to find a piece of paper to put down his number.

he ended up tearing off a corner from the design booklet so that he could scrawl down his phone number. “here,” he said, almost breathlessly.

“thanks.” you smiled, taking the paper and tucking it safely into your wallet. “i’ll text soon,” you said and then headed out of the shop. art watched with wide eyes as you left—he couldn’t help but let out a small holler of celebration.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 90: Vivian's Service

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, hypnotic induction, blood drinking

October 1925

"And here's your bedroom. I hope you like it."

"You have a bedroom for me, sir?" asked Vivian.

"Well, of course. I did say you belong to me, now. I wasn't necessarily expecting this to happen, so we can make it a more personal room later."

"It's nice," said Vivian, feeling a little overwhelmed. It was an ordinary bedroom with an ordinary bed, a soft-looking mattress and pillows, a wardrobe and dresser, a radiator in the corner. It was roomy and cozy and clean, the kind of room she used to dream about when she was an orphan girl scraping by. That was back when she would fantasize about someone swooping her up and saving her and taking her home. She'd forgotten those fantasies so long ago. "Thank you, sir."

She sat on the bed experimentally. It was far more comfortable than the one she had at her safe house, not wanting to spend money on frivolous things like a fancy mattress when she barely had time to sleep anyway. She got up and opened the wardrobe, which had many fine dresses, the sort of thing she would never wear, but also some simpler clothes.

"I'm sure those clothes aren't to your tastes, dear," said Miss Lily, watching from the door frame. "We'll do some catalog shopping and get you clothes more suited to you. Of course, I will want to see you in a fancy dress once in a while."

"I don't look good in them, sir." She was too tall, too awkwardly shaped, and the few times she'd tried to wear a dress had left her feeling like a cat stuffed into clothing against her will.

"That's nonsense. I'm sure you just haven't had clothes with proper tailoring. You're beautiful, darling, and when I dress you up, you will look stunning, guaranteed."

It wasn't something Vivian had ever cared about -- in fact, she had been somewhat disdainful of ladies who cared so much about dresses and finery -- but the reassurance still pleased her. She wanted to look beautiful for Miss Lily, perhaps. It was a way of serving her new madam.

Miss Lily yawned wide. "It's getting late in the evening. I'm tired, I worked hard today, and I'm still healing from a wound --"

"The wound I gave you, sir?"

"Yes, but you don't need to apologize. You didn't know your place yet." Miss Lily opened one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a fine silk nightgown with a broad neckline, and then a flimsy floral robe. "Here. You should wash up and change into these."

Vivian realized that she was still wearing her sweaty and grimy hunting clothes, stained in places with her new madam's blood. She took the offered clothes. "Yes, sir."

"Once you've finished up, you can attend to me. My bedroom is at the end of the hallway."

"Attend to…?"

"Nothing to be concerned about, darling. Your new duties as my loyal thrall." Miss Lily's smile was intoxicating. She was looking at Vivian as though she were already beautiful, even while dirty and disheveled.

"Yes, sir," said Vivian, bowing her head. She wanted to serve so much, as if it were the only thing she had truly been put on the earth to do.

"Good girl." Miss Lily ruffled her hair, her hand stroking down Vivian's cheek and tilting her chin up. "Take your time washing up. I'll be waiting."

Once Miss Lily had left, Vivian practically dashed into the washroom and closed the door behind her. There were two washbasins, one lower than the other. She found a cloth in a cupboard and filled up one of the basins -- Miss Lily had hot and cold running water in her home. She began stripping her clothing off and dumping it in a heap on the floor, idly wondering what had happened to her bags and weapons. A voice whispered in her mind that she didn't need those any more, and the thought fled from her.

Her skin was covered in scars, not only the deep scar from the rune she carved while hunting but dozens of others, big and small, from close shaves and from offering up her blood for other spells and rituals. And now, as she looked in the mirror above the basin, she found that she had two new scars, pinpricks on her neck, the mark of a vampire's hunger. She ran her hand over them, still somewhat fresh from Miss Lily's feeding the night before. This was who she was, now. She'd lost, and now she was nothing more than a glassy-eyed, entranced thrall, eager to serve her vampire.

She'd been so frightened of Miss Lily. So many thralls had been under her spell, had had their minds dampened and twisted towards service, praising how gentle she was and how wonderful it felt. Perhaps she had been so scared, had judged them so harshly, because she knew, deep down, she was no different. Perhaps she had always known that she'd end up here, that she'd fall so easily, that her destiny was to submit. The certainty ran deeper than Miss Lily's spell -- or perhaps her spell really did run bone-deep, changing her to her core.

She might never know, now. Few hunters had been willing to try and extinguish Miss Lily, even though a great deal of information was known about her. The hunters who'd tried had all ended up auctioned off, as far as they knew, pleasantly hypnotized former hunters to serve as prizes for rich vampires. No one would be coming to save her, and even if they did, no one could undo the hold she had on Vivian's mind, not entirely. That thought should frighten her more, but instead it felt comforting. There was no going back, no undoing what was done, no more struggle. She was Miss Lily's, body, mind, and soul.

Once she had finished washing, she slipped the nightgown over her head, smooth and cool. The woman in the mirror looked so little like her -- cleaned up, wearing some frilly thing, neck exposed with the pinprick scars showing, her eyes wide and unfocused, vulnerable. The thrall in the mirror was smiling. She could finally rest. Miss Lily had told her so.

Vivian felt as though she were sleepwalking down the hallway towards Miss Lily's room, caught in a strange dream. She opened the door to a very elaborate bedroom, featuring possibly the largest bed she had ever seen. Miss Lily looked small lounging in the middle of it, surrounded by at least a dozen pillows, wearing only a lacy white slip. Vivian didn't avert her eyes, feeling very certain that Miss Lily wanted her to see her like that.

"Oh, look at you. Aren't you a picture?" Miss Lily stretched and walked over to Vivian. Her soft pale fingers began to touch Vivian here and there, inspecting her as if she were some merchandise for the auction house. She turned Vivian's head, paying special attention to her neck, then placed both hands on the tops of her hips, turning Vivian around. Even through her mesmerized calm, Vivian was bracing herself for criticism or mockery.

"You look absolutely lovely, dear, more perfect than I could imagine," said Lily. "But your beautiful hair is all tangled. Allow me to wash it -- come, come."

"Thank you, sir," said Vivian softly, not knowing how to accept that reaction. She allowed the vampire to lead her into a bathroom attached to her bedroom. This bathroom looked as though a drugstore had exploded in it, with all sorts of cosmetics, soaps, combs, brushes, perfumes, towels, and hair accessories strewn about.

Miss Lily began filling a basin with water and pulled up a chair to it, beckoning Vivian to sit. With a practiced hand, she pulled out Vivian's half-undone braid, smoothing it out and gathering it up. "Here, lean back into the water. Shut your eyes, dear. You're going to be so good for me, and you're going to feel yourself drift."

Vivian hardly ever had time to wash her hair. It wasn't on her top list of priorities when she always wore it in a tight braid and ended up sweaty at the end of each night, anyway. She'd certainly not ever had someone else wash her hair, since perhaps her mother. She found herself feeling more vulnerable than ever leaning back into the water, closing her eyes and exposing her neck in front of her new vampire madam.

"Good girl," said Miss Lily. Warm water rushed over Vivian's scalp, and then there were fingers running through her hair, making her feel so relaxed and yet so oddly excited at the same time, as though she was drinking in all of the soft touch she could. It was so easy to lose herself in the sensation, especially with Miss Lily humming a bit of a tune and occasionally whispering to her. Soon, the air began to smell of floral soap, and those expert fingers were working away the accumulated grime of her hair.

"Ahhhh." Vivian couldn't remember being treated this well or feeling this good.

"You enjoy that, don't you?" said Miss Lily. "You need this. Doesn't it feel so right?"

"Yes, sir," she agreed easily, feeling as though she would do anything for Miss Lily as long as she kept rubbing at her scalp.

Unfortunately, it couldn't last forever, and soon enough Miss Lily was guiding Vivian up and out of the water. She wrapped one thick towel around Vivian's shoulders and another, smaller towel around her hair, gently squeezing it out.

"Now, hold still while I brush your hair out," said Miss Lily. "As I brush, you're going to feel yourself get so relaxed that you're going to fall even deeper into my hypnotic spell, even deeper into the bliss of obedience."

Vivian was utterly helpless to resist as Miss Lily began to brush her hair, the rhythmic motion and light touches lulling her further into a trance.

"That's it, dear. Let me drain your thoughts away and replace them with obedience." Brush. "Obedience." Brush. "Submission." Brush. "Such a good girl."

By the time Miss Lily finished up, Vivian felt as though she'd been turned into mush. Miss Lily picked up a hand mirror to show Vivian her handiwork.

If Vivian had hardly been recognizable before, now she looked like a different person utterly. Clean and shiny dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, brushing the top of her silk nightgown, and her smiling face reminded her of a porcelain doll's. No one would ever guess that she had been a hunter, now that she was a picture-perfect thrall. Her life as a hunter was seeming more and more like a fading dream.

"Beautiful, simply beautiful," said Miss Lily, sounding so satisfied, both with herself and with Vivian. "Now that we've attended to you, it's time for you to attend to me."

"Anything you want, sir."

"Yes, that's exactly the right attitude." Miss Lily sat down on a frilly vanity stool, handing Vivian the hairbrush. "I usually prefer to brush my hair while dry. Do help me out."

Vivian stood behind Miss Lily, picking up a lock of her hair to brush it out. She was so close, and it felt strangely intimate to brush her hair like this. Here she was in a vampire's home, brushing the hair of her vampire madam, submissive and quiet, her mind utterly enthralled. And she felt so at peace.

Miss Lily sighed deeply, and Vivian felt a new sensation overtaking her, something different than entranced calm. It was something forcefully dulling her mind and making her want to be still, very still and docile.

Through her foggy mind, Vivian realized that she recognized this. She'd felt this way before during very close calls, and again the other night. It was the vampiric feeding aura, designed to put humans into a stupor to make them easy to prey upon. Like every half-decent hunter, she'd trained herself against it, conditioned herself to resist automatically. She could feel that anxiety building now, the need to stay awake, to get away. Her thoughts were struggling to reassert themselves -- she was more than a meal. She was more than a food source. She had to fight this.

The brush slipped from Vivian's hand as she struggled internally. She shoved herself away from Lily, stumbling over her feet, a drowsy dizziness sweeping through her as she tried to escape.

"What's happening to me?" she said, staggering and leaning against the wall.

Miss Lily was pressed up against her. "Shhh, shhh, hush now, dear. It's okay. Quiet your mind now. Look me in the eyes and listen."

Vivian didn't hesitate to look deep into those eyes, her mind eager to shut off the struggle and return to serenity.

"You're safe, Vivian. You're safe here with me, remember? You're so sweet and obedient and such a good girl for me."

Vivian nodded slowly, her desire to fight slipping away from her like sand through her fingers.

"Just take my hand and follow me. You're doing so well."

Vivian allowed Miss Lily to lead her over to the bed, sitting on the edge and looking up at her madam. Miss Lily was looking deep into her eyes, stroking her face.

"I want your mind to go very quiet and still for me now, all right, Vivian dear?" she said with a smile. "Just for now. You can have all of your busy thoughts back later, but for now I want you to set them aside so that you can relax. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, sir," Vivian mumbled, once again hopelessly caught in Miss Lily's spell.

"Take a deep breath in and out. In and out. With every deep breath, you're going to feel a little more of that resistance inside you ebbing away, flowing away. And your thoughts will slowly drain out, draining away, leaving you with such an empty mind."

She was drifting along, feeling better and emptier with every slow breath, her fear floating so far away again.

"And you're going to start to feel sleepy, dear, oh so very sleepy. Your mind knows how safe you are, doesn't it? Your mind knows that this is a safe place to be drowsy and docile. And any desire to resist will slip through that empty mind and turn itself into a desire to sleep," said Lily, drawing closer to Vivian. "You can just forget now. Just allow yourself to forget how to fight, forget why you ever wanted to fight."

Vivian looked at her vampire madam with half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly. There was still some small part of her that didn't want to lose herself, but she was so tired, and so comforted, and felt so safe. Miss Lily made it so easy to just forget.

Lily's smile turned wicked. "Now you're going to feel my desire to feed upon you. It's not going to frighten you at all -- you'll find it's very natural. You won't be able to resist at all. You're just going to feel such a deep urge to be still and docile and obedient, and you won't fight that urge. You'll simply give in."

She could feel it stealing over her again, the need to be so still and offer up her tender neck, and this time, when her mind reached for its resistance, it didn't come. Instead, she was filled with visions of fangs in her neck, craving her madam's bite. Her body slumped against Miss Lily, relaxing into it. "Please, sir, please drink from me," she said.

"You're doing so well. Good girl." Miss Lily touched Vivian's neck, her fingers brushing the place where she had pinprick scars. "I'm going to feed from you right here. You'll feel the touch of my fangs and the most lovely wave of pleasure will come over you. There will be no pain and no fear, only pleasure. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Vivian's breath hitched as Miss Lily's cold lips pressed to her neck, like a kiss followed by the strange sensation of fangs sinking in -- and then bliss. She'd never felt like this before, her brain swimming in euphoria. Through the joyous haze, she could feel her madam's will -- how strong she was, how hard she worked, how much she needed to be in control to keep herself safe, to ensure that no one could hurt her again. And underneath it all, how lonely it was.

Vivian could understand that perfectly. Hunting was lonely too. She existed outside of normal human society, unable to relate to those who were unaware of the supernatural underworld. Other hunters were difficult to get along with, and it was a mistake to get too attached, only to watch them get slaughtered or captured. The thralls she rescued were damaged and broken.

But Miss Lily was different. She was strong, but she needed help. She needed protection. That's something Vivian could do to serve -- she could protect her.

"That's so sweet," said Miss Lily in response to the thoughts Vivian hadn't realized she'd vocalized. "That's such an excellent train of thought for an excellent thrall. Yes, you can protect me, my dear. You can protect and serve me, and be utterly loyal to me and me alone."

"Yes, sir," said Vivian eagerly, even through her drowsiness.

"You don't have to do that tonight, though. You should get some sleep."

Vivian was barely aware as she climbed into the bed, allowing Miss Lily to assist her and tuck her under the covers, only remembering that this was Miss Lily's bed when she was already halfway asleep.

"You've done well. I'm so pleased to have you as a thrall," said Miss Lily, radiating satisfaction. "Sleep now, and have nothing but the most pleasant dreams of serving your new madam."

Miss Lily climbed into the other side of the bed, snuggling close to Vivian. Through Vivian's sleepy haze, she remembered that she needed to protect her madam. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around the vampire, holding her close. It felt so right. Neither of them would be so lonely any more.

Previous > Masterlist

Thank you for reading this self-indulgent chapter. Next week: Alexander tries and fails to give up.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @light-me-on-pyre @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

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@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

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@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

[mxtxfanatic]

It's been a while since I've read the novel, and I think I may have been corrupted by the fandom a bit, I just wanna ask you to be sure. Does Madam Yu's abuse of Jiang Cheng equate to Madam Yu's abuse of Wei Wuxian? I feel like she treated Wei Wuxian worse, but again, I don't remember much from the novel, and I keep on seeing posts that keep comparing Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s treatment in Lotus Pier. It's basically a picture of them together with the words "Nothing like childhood trauma from a dysfunctional family." I'm sure Jiang Cheng mistreated by Madam Yu, but I don't know, saying that he was treated the same way as Wei Wuxian was treated by Madam Yu seems like a stretch.

Before I get into it, I would like to say that you can be traumatized by witnessing abuse as well as experiencing it. Those two aren’t mutually exclusive. With that said, however, I, too, have seen people conflate the abuse that Wei Wuxian experiences under Madam Yu with the abuse that Jiang Cheng experiences under her. I'll answer with quotes though to show that while Madam Yu is abusive towards all the kids—particularly but not exclusively verbally—her abuse of Wei Wuxian is above and beyond what she is seen to do to her kids. The worst she has been shown to do physically towards her kids is smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder while calling him weak and pinching Jiang Yanli’s cheek to the point of pain (while also insulting her) because she wanted to vent her anger and her daughter was conveniently close:

Madam Yu gave Jiang Cheng a sideways glance, “Fiddling about again? Come, let me see you.” Jiang Cheng went to her side. Madam Yu squeezed his arm with her slender fingers, then slapped his shoulder loudly, scolding, “There’s isn’t any improvement in your cultivation at all. You’re seventeen already, yet you’re still like an ignorant child, fooling around with others all the time. Are you the same as others? Who knows which sewers other people will be splashing in, but you’re going to be the leader of the Jiang Sect!” Jiang Cheng stumbled from the slap, head lowered, not daring to protest.

—Chapt. 51: Courage, exr

Yet, all of a sudden, someone’s quiet voice drifted by Madam Yu’s ear, “Mom, do you want to eat some watermelon...” Madam Yu was startled by Jiang YanLi, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. With the delay, all of the boys had vanished into thin air. She was so infuriated that she turned to Jiang YanLi and pinched her cheek, “Eat, eat, eat—all you do is eat!” Jiang YanLi almost cried from her mother’s pinching, mumbling, “Mom, A-Xian and the others were hiding here to relieve the heat and I came here on my own. Don’t blame them... Do... Do you want some watermelon... I don’t know who gave them to us, but it’s really sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer is great for cooling down and quenching thirst. I’ll cut them for you...” The more Madam Yu thought about it, the angrier she became, and with the summer heat on top of all that, she really began to crave watermelon. With all that... she grew even angrier.

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

Meanwhile, the average punishment she made Wei Wuxian endure was being whipped by her electrified whip before possibly being locked away in the ancestral hall for the day until Jiang Fengmian returned to the sect (meaning she was locking him away when she knew that the only other person who could challenge her authority and reign her in was gone to do this):

In the past, although Madam Yu had always come at him with harsh words, she had never truly been cruel to him. The most that he’d been through were two or three strikes and being grounded. He’d also be let out by Jiang FengMian soon later.

—Chapt. 57: Poisons, exr

Wei WuXian mused, “How did you know? That’s right. Madam Yu punished me almost every day.” Lan WangJi nodded, “I have heard of a few things.” Wei WuXian, “It’s so famous that even people outside Yunmeng, even you Gusu people know—how could it be ‘a few things’? But, to be honest, in all these years, I’ve never seen a second woman whose temper was as bad as Madam Yu’s. She told me to go to the ancestral hall and kneel no matter how small the matter was. Hahaha...”

—Chapt. 87: Loyalty, exr

Wei WuXian yelled, “Sorry! I didn’t know Shijie would come! I’ll go look for my clothes right now!” Madam Yu was even angrier, “How dare you run! Come back right now and kneel!” As she spoke, she let loose her whip with a flip of her wrist. Wei WuXian felt a searing pain slash across his back. He loudly exclaimed, “Ow!” And almost tripped on the ground.

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

These abuses are categorically not the same. Now, given the fact that Jiang Cheng treats Jin Ling like Madam Yu treated him (in some cases, worse) and then goes on to treat Wei Wuxian just like his mother before him, I’d hardly say the man thinks on his mother’s behavior as the negative influence it was, let alone enough to reflect on it as a source of trauma.

[respectfulrebel]

^ me every time I see a new chapter, by the way. And also me while reading every single interaction between her and Noah because GOD is she horny for him and GOD is he a fucking tease. The morning scene????? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Your signature cliffhanger doesn’t disappoint either, you got my blood pressure and my heart rate up with this one what the fuck 😭 please don’t hurt her? Pls? 🥺

"She gets a guard, a detail, an escort - whatever the fuck I decide that she needs. I promised her I would keep her safe and I'll do anything in my power to keep that promise. You don't have to understand. I don't give a shit. But as my best friend, you will respect these decisions and her."

Damn, the man is scary (in a good way) 🫠

Funny how your cheeks immediately warmed with a blush. You appreciated the candor, but what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

No, please, Noah. Completely ravish me. Ruin me. Make me take it. I want to feel it for days.

I meeeeaan 🤭 I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded hearing those exact words.

"Got enough for two?" The opening and closing of the lighter trailing his words.

That is such a cool way to say that. I’m a big fan of how to use words.

"For the record," he spoke after you had handed him a bowl and dropped down into a bar chair a couple down from his, "I never ate anything with goat cheese. That shit is disgusting."

The one thing he says that I agree with lol goat cheese is disgusting lol

Wait….had you said all of that out loud?

Oh shit 🫣 I had to go back and reread what she said cause I was also like 🫢

He had requested to come into Mel's apartment with you but you threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't sit in the car and wait.

Idk that make me chuckle 🤭

"Maybe," you shrugged. "Let's just say he's very proportionate."

🤭🤭🤭 that’s one way to say it

"Oh god, no!" You gasped, feigning terror and covering your eyes as your best friend held up her newest creation for you to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over. "I'm just imagining it saying 'yeehaw, buckaroo' when I get down on my knees for it and that's terrible!"

Oh my god 😂😂

If you thought Noah was annoyed, then Jackson was on the verge of blasting off to the moon with only his aggravation fueling him.

I love that description 😂

He was slowly closing the distance between your faces, his hand releasing your chin only to trace down your neck before loosely securing his long fingers around the base of your throat - something he had a habit of doing. The gesture was possessive and you knew immediately that your panties were soaked.

Well, so are mine, damn 😳😮‍💨

Frowning to yourself, you carefully turned onto your side so that you were facing him. Your upper body angled just enough until your cheek was ever so slightly resting on his shoulder. There were a few seconds where you thought maybe this was an odd thing to do - cuddling up to Noah as he slept - but the shift of his hand onto your bent leg immediately caused those thoughts to dissipate.

That’s so cuuuuute 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Noah deeply inhaled as he palmed your breast, gently kneading into the mound. His short nails pricked your sensitive flesh, just enough to have you arching up against him in a desperate yet silent plea for more. As if being able to hear what you wanted, Noah released you, but not before giving your nipple another pinch and a firm tug.

Oh boy 🫠🫠 I don’t even know which line to quote from that scene cause it was all so so good. Even though she did get her release at the end, it felt like an intensely charged foreplay and the tension was so so delicious. And I guess Noah thought so too

Simmering in your anger, you exited the safety of his apartment and made a beeline for your own. There were two routes you could take: outside across the small courtyard that connected to the sidewalk that separated your buildings or you could go up a few floors and take the breezeway. You opted for the latter because it didn't run the risk of Jackson seeing you.

Literally screaming at her to sit back on her ass and not fucking go there ohh my goooooodd 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 I can’t watch

"You fight back more than you used to," Hawk taunted with an evil smirk as he turned your body over. "He's going to love that."

Okay that’s probably my conspiracy theory brain that’s seen too many movies and if it’s not you don’t have to say anything but “he” 🤔 we never got a confirmation that it’s her dad looking for her 🫢 🤫

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter five

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 13k

masterlist

NOAH POV

“You called in a favor to go on a sushi date?” 

Jolly could only stare at his best friend like he was going to break down in laughter at any second and tell him that he was just kidding. Unfortunately for Jolly, Noah could only stare back at him, completely expressionless. 

“That's not the point.”

“If you want to fuck the server, then fuck the server. Don't get dragged into her mess when we have our own shit to deal with, Noah. Come on, man.” 

Noah’s jaw clenched at his friend’s terms regarding you, though his face remained stoic. Years of training had made him the perfect guard with an outstanding poker face. 

Jolly’s mouth then fell open in shock. The silence said it all. He was one of the only people who could read Noah’s blank expressions, even more so lately. He figured he had you to thank for that. You were quickly becoming his one and only weakness. 

“You're telling me that you're going through all of this for pussy you haven't even had yet?” 

Goddamn, Noah really hated him talking about you like that. You weren't just some pussy he was looking to score with. Maybe at first it had been purely lust, but things changed in a whirlwind. Now you were clouding his mind every second of every day. He couldn't stand the thought of harm coming to you, especially not after he had vowed to keep you safe. You were his responsibility now. His problem. But in the best way possible. 

“Look,” Noah adjusted the black wraps on his hands and then flexed his fingers. “I swore to her I wouldn't say anything to you, so can you at least try to keep this quiet?” 

Who was he kidding? He wouldn't be able to keep it from you that he had broken his promise. 

His fist then slammed into the punching bag dangling before him with little warning, followed by another solid hit that would have his knuckles aching in a matter of seconds. No amount of fights or training could fully help his body adjust to the abuse he put it through. Jolly groaned slightly from where he was standing behind the bag, gripping at the sides to keep it still with each forceful punch. 

“Then why are you telling me?” 

Noah took a moment to ponder this question. Why was he? He knew he would eventually need resources Jolly had but he couldn't tell his best friend that that was the only reason. 

“Because clearly these guys aren't fucking around and I can't be everywhere at once.” 

“So…what? You want to assign men to her? Fucking hell, Noah.”

Hands up and his breathing controlled, Noah landed punch after punch into the bag, following it up with a knee into the side of it that would easily take any assailant down. His hands then fell to his hips and he took a step back, his breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his forehead. 

“Mainly me,” he shrugged. “But when I'm needed at the club or for shipments then I figured we could spare Jackson.” 

“We can't spare anyone, Noah. This operation only works when we have all hands on deck. Everyone has a place and a job.” 

Noah’s jaw clenched, his grip on the water bottle he now held causing the plastic to loudly crinkle. He took a swallow before setting the bottle aside and then approaching Jolly, their chests nearly touching. If Jolly thought he was going to back down to him because he was his “boss” then he was dead wrong. Their roles were nothing more than a show. 

“This woman is important to me and I'm going to make sure she feels safe. Isn't that what we're all about, Joakim?” 

Jolly flinched at the use of his actual name, his eyes narrowing. 

“She gets a guard, a detail, an escort - whatever the fuck I decide that she needs. I promised her I would keep her safe and I'll do anything in my power to keep that promise. You don't have to understand. I don't give a shit. But as my best friend, you will respect these decisions and her.” 

“Goddammit,” Jolly cursed under his breath when he was the first to break their intense eye contact. He briefly gave his back to Noah, a hand washing over his face in pure aggravation. 

Turning to face him again, Jolly licked over his lips and produced a single nod. But before Noah could strut away with his victory, he pointed a finger directly at his chest. “If this ruins our operation, I will fucking bury you. Best friend or not. Understand?” 

Noah smirked, nodding. “I'll even help you dig the grave.”

READER POV

Waking up in an unknown bed wasn't common for you. Casual hook ups weren't your thing, so if it wasn't your bed - or Vane’s in the past - then you were utterly lost and baffled. Except you were starting to recall the night before and just why you were in an unknown bed, surrounded by homely items that did not belong to you. 

Noah. Your destroyed apartment. The worry in his eyes. His mouth on your body before it all went to shit. 

You wished you could relive that last little bit just a moment longer. 

Your eyes slowly opened to first see the unfamiliar lamp on the bedside table, a bottle of water and a phone charging cord occupying the space around it. The sheets were soft and warm from where you were cocooned within them, the scent attached to them a comforting sensation that could easily lull you back to sleep. His scent. You knew you needed to get up, though. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't rot in this bed all day. 

Sitting up with reluctance, you began to scan the contents of the bedroom. There wasn't much to it, just like the living room you had been staring longingly at for a few months now. A dresser with a mirror, closet, two bedside tables, virtually nothing of personal value on the shelves or in the bookcase nestled into the corner. You couldn't say you were surprised. Noah was a minimalist, something you couldn't relate to. 

As you pulled yourself out of bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your feet slowly shuffled you out of the bedroom. It was quiet in the apartment, the eerie silence sending a chill down your spine and bringing goosebumps to your arms. You hugged yourself as you stepped into the living room, making a slow approach to the window you were so used to looking through from your own apartment. Being on the opposite side now was surreal. 

Across the way you could see the destroyed mess that was once your home. Noah hadn't let you clean anything up before dragging you out the night before despite your protests. The large sum of money you had hidden away was truly what you were concerned about. You heavily sighed, eyes then falling to the singular plant that sat to your right. The soil was in desperate need of some moisture, so you scurried to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, then slowly began to dump it into the dry soil. 

Just as you were tilting the glass further up, the front door suddenly opened, keys jingling and bags rustling. You jumped, what remained of the water sloshing onto your chest and stomach, the fabric of Noah’s shirt you wore immediately soaking all the way through. 

“Jesus Christ!” You gasped, a hand clutching your chest. Your eyes were nearly bulging out of your head as you looked at Noah standing in the doorway, his brows raised and a laugh threatening to escape. 

“Just me,” he then chuckled, hands held up in innocence. 

You relaxed only when your brain came to terms with you not being in any danger. You actually felt your safest when Noah was around. It was odd since you had only known him for a handful of time, but no one had ever put you at ease the way he did.

That both delighted and terrified you. 

“Did you sleep okay?” 

Noah's eyes trailed your body, pausing when he noticed the way his damp shirt was clinging to portions of your skin. One spot in particular being on your chest, granting him the view of your hardened nipple beneath the chill-inducing wet fabric. You pulled the fabric away from your body, waving it a bit to help dry sections of it, unaware that he had been close to drooling. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged. When you looked back up at him, he abruptly shifted his gaze elsewhere, awkwardly fumbling with the items in his arms. 

“You really should've let me sleep on the couch,” you added as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“What kind of host would I be if I did that?” 

“Okay, then you should've slept in bed with me,” you continued while following right on his heels. Noah was stocking the fridge with some sparkling waters that just so happened to be the same brand you always had on hand. “I would've kept my hands to myself.” 

Noah peered up at you with his infamous smirk, brows raised. He shook his head while closing the fridge and then went to continue unloading the little bit of groceries. He was wearing a black t-shirt and athletic shorts, his face flushed, leading you to believe that he had been out at the gym before. You would've loved to have watched that show. 

“I don't think I would have,” he replied honestly. 

Funny how your cheeks immediately warmed with a blush. You appreciated the candor, but what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

No, please, Noah. Completely ravish me. Ruin me. Make me take it. I want to feel it for days. 

Yeah, you didn't think that was the right route to take. Not when he was clearly on edge and you had people out there set on killing you. 

“I had to tell Jolly about what happened.” 

Your heart skipped, silence befalling you both. 

“I'm sorry,” Noah continued, his hands pressed into the kitchen island he was leaning into. “I know I promised you I wouldn't but with what happened last night…I needed the extra support.” 

You were trying your best to ignore the flexed muscles in his arms, as well as the reddened and split skin that was his knuckles. Nope, you weren't going to let him unknowingly distract you with his body. The same body you had dreamed about, the one you desperately wanted to feel on top of you. 

Fuck! No! You were supposed to be mad at him for going back on his word!

“Extra support?” You repeated, your voice small. 

“As much as I would like to be, I can't be with you at all times. So, some of the trusted guys that work for me will also be keeping an eye on you.” 

You grimaced at his word choice, head slowly shaking. You could practically see the Nocturnal mask slipping down over his face. 

“I'm not a toddler at a water park, Noah. I don't need people watching me.” 

“It's happening whether you want it to or not.” His words were stern and direct, the muscle in his jaw fluttering beneath the strain he was placing on it. 

When you said nothing after crossing your arms over your chest, he continued. 

“Someone will drive you to and from both of your jobs, as well as anywhere else you need to go. You'll stay here until I can get a safe house sorted, where a guard will also be stationed.” 

What the fuck was happening? Why was Noah suddenly talking like some secret service agent? 

“Safe house?” 

“I know it's asking a lot, but I'd also like for you to check in with me if I'm not around to see you for myself. Can you do that?” 

You stared at him, the expression on your face reading as utterly dumbfounded. 

“Who the hell are you?” Although you didn't really know Noah, not as much as you should to feel the way you did about him, this was the first time you truly viewed him as a stranger. 

He blinked a couple of times before his face softened and he pushed away from the island to close the space between you in record time. The usual confidence remained in his movements but you could see the concern written in his eyes. 

“No,” he lowered his voice to a near whisper while taking your face into his hands. “Please don't look at me like that. You've never looked at me like that.” 

Was Noah worried that you were scared of him? That's all that you could think of as you gazed up into his eyes while his thumbs brushed your cheeks. You wanted to tell him that you weren't but the words wouldn't move past your tongue. His forehead leaned down against yours, strong hands still encasing your face and keeping you close. 

“Why are you doing this for me?” You managed to finally speak, your voice now as soft as his had been. Your hands lifted to circle his wrists though not so you could push him away, but because you wanted to be closer. So, so much closer. 

Noah took in a deep breath and remained silent for a long moment. When he did speak up again, you were no more enlightened than you had been.  

“I don't know.”

X X X 

Six days had gone by and you barely saw Noah. He was busy with work, muttering something about having to receive shipments and make deliveries, but he was gone more so than he used to be. You thought it was odd that Nocturnal’s head of security was on delivery duty, but you found it best not to question him about it. Noah obviously had secrets and you weren't so naive to believe that you were meant to know them. 

You stared blankly at the dark blue backsplash of Red’s stove, condensation from your use of a burner and boiling water forming along it. You had opted to stay later than you usually did because it was better than going back to Noah’s quiet apartment. Sure, you had whichever guy was assigned to you that night, but it wasn't the same. They never talked to you, never really paid you any mind except for when Noah called and they had to verify you were okay. 

So, you were “working” late, which consisted of you making a box of macaroni and cheese for dinner. Red had long gone to bed, or so he said, though you could occasionally hear the creak of his floorboards above. Oh well. Whatever he did in the comfort of his house was his business. 

“Something smells…processed.” 

You looked up from where you were mixing the powdered cheese in with butter and milk to see Nicholas standing in the kitchen walkway, trusty Zippo lighter in hand. His bright eyes were set on you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Got enough for two?”  The opening and closing of the lighter trailing his words. 

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes before releasing a long exhale. You didn't yet respond as you reached up into the cabinet to bring down another bowl, a silent acceptance to his desire to join you. 

“I don't want to hear one complaint about it,” you exclaimed, eying him for a brief moment. 

“Why would I ever do such a thing?”

You began to spoon the yellow coated noodles into both bowls, being careful to make each one equal. “Because I know you were raised on truffle goat cheese macaroni and bottles of wine that cost more than my rent.” 

The sound of metal scraping against the hardwood told you that Nicholas had pulled a chair out at the massive island. Followed by another because apparently he was kind enough to prepare a seat for you as well. 

“Do I sense a bit of a judgy tone?” 

“Me? Judgy? That doesn't sound right at all.” 

Since you had been spending more nights at Red’s house, you had managed to run into Nicholas way more than you would've preferred. It was awkward at first because he gave you the creeps, which he still kinda did, but at least he was willing to talk to you. You had no idea why he was at the house so often nowadays, but once again, it was just one more thing that wasn't your business. 

Were you just cursed to be around mysterious jackasses your entire life? Probably so. 

“For the record,” he spoke after you had handed him a bowl and dropped down into a bar chair a couple down from his, “I never ate anything with goat cheese. That shit is disgusting.” 

“Yeah, it tastes like two goats fucking in your mouth,” you snickered. 

Nicholas laughed along with you before the sounds faded away and all that could be heard was your tandem chewing and forks hitting the bowl. 

“Can I ask you something?”

With a sound of acknowledgement, Nicholas nodded. 

“How do you know Noah?”

There was no way the two of them knew each other just from the club because you could've felt the tension between them from another room. You knew history when you saw it. 

“We were friends as kids,” Nicholas revealed. His focus remained down on his food, the fork he held stabbing into individual noodles before bringing them to his mouth. 

“He was always pretty chill, even at a young age. Always the type to problem solve, y’know? But I was the opposite of that, so we didn't really mesh.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Were you just a problem Noah was aching to solve now? 

Nicholas pushed away from the island, the chair again making a piercing sound as it slid across the floor. He went to the large fridge and retrieved a couple of waters, one for each of you. 

“The word ‘insane' is used a lot to describe me, medically speaking. I don't see it but I'm also not the one with a PhD. But I caused the problems instead of fixing them.” Shrugging, he dropped back down into his seat and returned to his food. The way he was speaking so nonchalantly was shocking to you, especially when he was divulging so much information that you hadn't even been forced to pry from him. 

“And Noah doesn't like that sort of thing. He needs order and control. I'm sure you've realized that by now.” Nicholas flashed a devilish grin as he looked at you, his eyebrows playfully wiggling. 

Well, that surely was something you didn't want to talk about with him. 

“Either way, our families clashed and we stopped being friends.”

“Clashed?” You felt bad for asking question after question but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. Every answer he gave only produced more curiosity. 

Nicholas shifted in his seat, that repetitive amused grin overtaking his features. You were getting the same sense that you would from Noah, like something was being kept from you. Something important. 

He didn't speak again until he was done eating, the bowl in front of him thoroughly cleaned of every noodle. You were impressed, to say the least. 

“I'm going to be honest with you because I like you, okay? So listen to me very carefully.” 

Turning in his chair to face you, he leaned in closer, almost too close for comfort. If there hadn't been an empty chair between the two of you, then he would basically be in your lap at this point. You gave a slight nod, that damned curiosity noticeable in your eyes. 

“Do not trust anyone. Not me, not Noah, not Red. No one. Do you get me?” 

You opened your mouth to speak because the confusion you felt was on the verge of bubbling over, but promptly closed it when you figured nothing would quench your hunger for answers. Fuck, you were so tired of dealing with this bullshit already. It was always something. 

“I can tell that you're smart. When I say ‘no one’, I mean absolutely no one.” 

“Why should I believe you now then?” You challenged, brows raised. 

Nicholas smirked, slowly nodding. “See? I knew you were smart, just as I said.”

X X X 

Some Top 40’s pop song drifted through Melinda’s apartment a couple of nights later. You sat on the floor of her living room with your back propped against the couch, a pink coffee table in front of you which held a couple of different wine bottles atop the surface. A wine glass was also within reach but you had pushed that aside after the first pour and started drinking straight from the bottle. Melinda had arched a brow at you but hadn’t voiced her concerns. At least not yet. 

Your nerves were causing your fingers to tremble to the point that not even alcohol could calm them. Why? Because you were on the verge of telling Mel everything. The confession had been right on the tip of your tongue for the last hour but you'd always chicken out at the final second and drown out your words with the overly sweet wine you preferred. 

You didn't want to drag her into this. You'd never forgive yourself if she was harmed because of you. But you needed someone to lean on that wasn't Noah. Not because you didn't appreciate his willingness to help, but because he was edging dangerously close to the line in the sand you had created. Plus, Melinda was your best friend and you desperately needed her. 

“Whoa there, tiger,” Mel laughed as she made to reach for the wine bottle you were currently tipping back. “Why don't you take a breather and tell me what's wrong?” 

Damn, where were you even supposed to begin? You were on the run from your own father, had been forced to change your identity, and now had a few unknown men hunting you down to kill you. Not to mention the fact that you were involved with some James Bond secret service type of guy who had a killer smile, was a great kisser, and also gave you butterflies. Oh, and how could you almost forget to add that you had killed your ex-boyfriend? 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You looked up from where you had been heavily focused on the pattern of the brightly colored rug beneath you, just to see Mel staring at you with wide eyes and her mouth dropped open. 

Wait…had you said all of that out loud? 

Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth but the damage was done. The words had been vomited out. Melinda heard every single one. 

“What?” You finally squeaked out, though your voice was muffled within your palm. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?” 

Hesitantly you shook your head, your hand slowly lowering back down to your lap. You had to clamp your hands between your thighs to stop them from noticeably shaking. 

“Your dad always gave me the heebie jeebies but what the fuck? What. The. Fuck.” 

“Why do you think I showed up on your doorstep with barely a day’s notice, asking you to call me by a different name?” 

Melinda’s brows pulled together as she briefly fell into a deep consideration over your question. “I don't know!” She finally exclaimed, her hands thrown up in defeat. “I thought you had finally just cracked or wanted to be someone else here for fun!” 

“Thank you for going along with that, by the way,” you hiccuped, now smiling at your best friend despite the deadly serious topic. 

“Hold on. Hold up. You killed Vane? Like…dead? He's gone?” 

You sheepishly nodded as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. How did you justify what you did without fully going into all the details? 

“He wasn't a good person, Mel.”

“Did he hurt you?” She quickly cut in, her jaw clenched in preparation for an outburst they both knew she was about to have. 

Heavily sighing, you gave a single nod. “Everyday.” 

Sexual, emotional, and plain ole physical abuse had been your day to day life not so long ago. A waking nightmare you had no choice but to endure. It was honestly amazing that you hadn't thrown yourself off the Golden Gate Bridge instead of escaping across the country, although you had contemplated it more than once. The abuse had ended but the scars remained, most mental but some physical. 

Tears began pooling in Melinda’s eyes, her lower lip wobbling. “Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have left you. I would've…I would've taken you with me. What the fuck? Why would you hide that from me? How did you even hide it?” 

Well, your buzz was officially gone. 

“You know how Vane was. He never would've let that happen.”  Yeah, that pretty much summed it all up. 

While Melinda wasn’t unfortunate enough to spend extended periods of time with Vane, she had still noticed how horrible of a person he was. He never tried to hide it, no matter who was around. Vane was proud of the fact that he could scare people. He found his power within it, just as your father did. 

“Your dad…” Mel shook her head, all the information being too much for her to process so suddenly. Though her sadness had quickly flipped to anger. “I'm going to fucking kill him. I'd do the same to Vane if you hadn't already had the honor.”

“My dad doesn't know where I am.” You paused, your lips twisting in thought. “Well, he didn't. I guess he does now, though. Y’know, considering the guys that are after me.” 

While you were sure those were Vane’s men, you could assume your father now controlled them since their previous leader was dead. That probably made it worse. They wanted to avenge their beloved late boss while also following the orders of one of the most corrupt men you knew - a bad combo. 

“Noah has been helping you though?” 

You snorted a laugh as you brought the wine bottle to your awaiting mouth again. “Yeah, just look outside.”

Sitting in a dark SUV directly in front of the apartment building was Jackson, the guy Noah had put on the rotation of keeping an eye on you. He had requested to come into Mel’s apartment with you but you threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't sit in the car and wait. You must've been somewhat convincing since he obliged. Reluctantly, but you still considered it to be a win. 

“Okay, I'm seeing a guy smoking and staring at us. Should I be worried or?” 

“No, it's his shift to watch me. Noah is very…thorough apparently.”

Melinda looked back at you with a wicked smirk, her tears now long gone as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. “Just how thorough are we talking?” 

You groaned as you rolled your eyes and held a middle finger up to your friend. “I wouldn't know about that. We haven't done anything more than kiss.” 

“Are you suddenly the Virgin fucking Mary? What's the hold up?” 

You stared at Melinda with an expression that read ‘are you fucking serious?’. A few seconds passed as you waited to see if she would see the error of her question but your best friend was none the wiser. 

“I've kinda been distracted with the big as fuck target on my back, Mel.” 

“Shit, you're right. Sorry.” She shook her head after lightly hitting the side of it with the palm of her hand. “Okay, but you've at least felt it, right? Because I just know that man is working with something great.” 

How the hell had you gotten onto this topic? 

Your response to Melinda was in the form of a side eye and a shy smirk as you brought a newly opened wine bottle up for a swallow. “Maybe,” you shrugged. “Let's just say he's very proportionate.” 

It would've been impossible for you to not feel exactly what he was “working with” the night he had you pressed up against your apartment door. You still thought about how hard he had gotten and the way it felt when he rolled his hips between your open thighs. The sounds he had made were the perfect cherry on top. It had actually been on repeat in your head that very morning when you were showering while your fingers just so happened to be assisting in getting you off. 

“Fucccckkkk,” Mel groaned as she tossed herself onto the couch behind you. “I love a tall man. And he's, like, soooo tall. Those hands? You're lucky.” 

“We aren't talking about it!” It was already bad enough that Noah was still holding out on you. You were willing to bend over for him anytime, any place, but he still hadn't even kissed you since that night. Maybe there was a flirty comment here and there, but that's where it stopped. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't interested anymore. You couldn't say you blamed him considering all the baggage you came with. 

Just some thoughts you were doomed to have again and again. 

“When did you become such a prude?!” Melinda teased, lightly poking the back of your head. 

“I'm not a prude!” You quickly defended as you shot a glare at her from over your shoulder. “I just don't want to talk about his dick!”

Well, you hadn't wanted to until you finished off another glass or two worth of wine. Once that happened you were completely free to blab about anything. You leaned over Melinda’s coffee table not even half an hour later, a fit of giggles constantly escaping you as you doodled yet another comically large drawing of a dick. Mel was doing the same on the opposite side of the table, but she had opted to place a little cowboy hat on the head of her dick picture. Scattered on the tabletop were other little drawings of cocks, each one with their own personality. 

“Oh god, no!” You gasped, feigning terror and covering your eyes as your best friend held up her newest creation for you to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over. “I'm just imagining it saying ‘yeehaw, buckaroo’ when I get down on my knees for it and that's terrible!” 

“I would dry up like the goddamn Sahara.” 

You erupted into a fit of laughter that had you falling back and grabbing your stomach. It was like you had never seen or heard something so funny before and you had all the alcohol to thank for that. 

Somehow you managed to hear your phone ringing over both yours and Melinda's cackling which sent you stumbling across the living room to grab it from where you had dropped your things hours ago. You didn't even look at who it was before you were answering in a sing-song voice. 

“Hellooo?”

Noah’s voice came through immediately, his tone stern as he said your name. 

“Where are you?” 

“Well, Mr. Grumpy Pants, I'm at Melinda's still.” Laughter cut through your response as Mel turned the drawing vertically and pretended to make it dance amongst the sea of other crudely drawn dicks. 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Maybe…just a little bit.”

Noah could be heard heavily sighing from the other end of the call and for some reason his annoyance had you giggling to yourself. 

“I'm coming to get you,” he stated after taking a deep breath. 

“What? No! I'm fine here. Plus, your little watch dog is still outside.” Steps were taken to the window so you could look down at where Jackson still sat. He was in his car now but his eyes were looking up at you. If you thought Noah was annoyed, then Jackson was on the verge of blasting off to the moon with only his aggravation fueling him. 

“It's after two in the morning. I'm coming to get you.” 

Noah parroted himself which only let you know that he was holding back what he truly wanted to say. It was a good thing you found it kinda hot when he got angry or else he really would've been killing your mood. 

“Don't be such a fun sucker!” You laughed, both at Noah and the newly drawn dick Melinda was holding up to you again. This one looked like a mermaid, complete with a seashell bra. 

“I'll be there in ten minutes.” 

The call then ended and you could only roll your eyes. 

“See?” You motioned to your phone as Mel arched a questioning brow. “I told you he's always so tense.” 

True to his word, Noah was knocking on the apartment door ten minutes later. Jackson was no longer posted outside, more than likely relieved of his duty as soon as Noah had pulled in. 

Melinda answered the door wearing a large grin and holding up her drawing of a princess cock so it was the first thing Noah would see. You could barely make out the furrow of his brow from behind your friend, but just that was enough to send you spiraling into another fit of laughter. 

“Welcome!” Mel beamed with glee. 

“Is that…a dick with a crown?”

You were then on your feet and approaching your best friend, your own amused smile seen from over her shoulder. Noah’s eyes shifted to you and you briefly felt bad for how tired he looked. The long hours at Nocturnal were clearly getting to him. 

“It's actually a tiara,” Mel corrected. 

“Do you not like it?” 

“It's…great,” he sighed, figuring that agreeing would help move this along faster. “Are you ready?” 

“No,” you shook your head, eyes once again rolling as you turned to grab your things. “But I guess I'll have to be.” 

Okay, so maybe you turned into a bit of a brat when you drank too much. There wasn't really much more to it than that. 

Noah stepped into the doorway and immediately began to assess his surroundings. His eyes squinted when he found all the dick drawings on the coffee table, as if trying to make sure he was really seeing it. 

“Is this what girls do together? Draw dicks?”

“They do when they're not getting any,” Melinda murmured under her breath before sending a wink your way. 

Your eyes widened slightly but you ignored her comment and instead slung your bag over your shoulder in a dramatic show. Noah’s jaw was clenched as you approached him, again wearing a wide smile all thanks to your beloved wine. He was very much unamused but you knew he wouldn't be able to stay mad at you for long. 

After saying your goodbyes you were trudging along beside Noah, only slightly struggling to keep pace with his long legs and eager steps. Your humming was all that sounded between the two of you, the silence becoming a bit of a concern. Maybe he was actually mad this time. Fuck. That made you feel like a teenage girl being picked up from a party by her dad. 

Gross. 

“You know,” you began after hitting the ground level and Noah made sure you were secure in the passenger seat of his overpriced car. “I didn't ask you to come get me.” 

“Can we not do this? It's been a long night and I just want to get home.”

You had never been good at keeping your mouth shut when you were drunk, so his plea was met by deaf ears. 

“I told you that I don't need a body guard. I would've been perfectly fine staying over at Mel’s.” 

Noah’s jaw further tensed and his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he pulled out of the apartment complex and drove down the road at a much higher speed than the posted limit. You didn't even want to look at him but you couldn't stop yourself because, well, he was always a sight to behold. His sleek all black clothing told you that he had only just left Nocturnal despite going in before noon, so that explained his heavy lids and the dark circles forming beneath his eyes, as well as his less than desirable attitude. 

Man really needed some time off. Maybe a nice vacation where he could get some sun and relaxation. You held onto the fantasy of being right there with him on a beach, both of you with a coconut cocktail in hand. Maybe you would even get him to rub sunscreen on your bo–

“And then I wouldn't have been able to sleep because I would've been up all night worrying about your well being.” 

Well, there went that perfect fantasy. Normally his words would've made you swoon, but with your drunken state you were borderline furious. Again, you hadn't asked for any of this. All you wanted was for him to keep your secret. Noah was the one all gung-ho about keeping you safe as well. So why did you feel as if you were being punished for it? 

“But why? I've managed to keep myself alive before we even met, and I'm sure I can continue to.” 

Noah huffed a chuckle while shaking his head. “You have no idea who you're up against.” 

“Oh, I know exactly the kind of men that are after me. Did you forget that I was surrounded by them for years? Believe me, King, I fucking know.” 

His head was quick to whip around to stare at you, fury flaring in his eyes. You knew you were being an idiot for pushing his buttons but you for some reason couldn't make yourself stop. Maybe you were just a glutton for punishment. 

“What did you just call me?” 

You heavily exhaled through your nose, your lips pursed and your eyes set forward on the mostly empty road ahead of you. “You heard me,” you shrugged. “You want to wear your Nocturnal mask outside the club? Then I'm going to call you by your Nocturnal name.” 

It was rather obvious that he was fed up with your antics but he continued to press. “What are you talking about?” 

Noah stepped a little too hard on the brake as the car approached a red light, sending your body jerking forward ever so slightly. You cut your eyes at him and adjusted your position in the seat before answering. 

“The fucking mask you wear when you're at the club. King and Noah are not the same.” 

He laughed. He actually fucking laughed, the kind of laugh that had him gripping the steering wheel tight between both hands as he leaned back to lessen the pressure on his stomach and rest his head against the seat. You didn't know why it was so funny to him but you didn't currently care enough to ask. 

“We're very much one in the same, sweetheart. You don't think ‘Hot Neighbor’ would shoot a man through the head to keep you safe?” There was now a devilish - yet also mocking - smirk pulled across his lips and you weren't sure if you were scared or turned on by it. What the hell was wrong with you? You knew Noah was dangerous. He had probably killed more people than you could count on both of your hands and while you didn't like to think about that side of him, you still knew it was him. That wasn't lost on you as he seemed to believe. 

And if they were one in the same, as he claimed, then why was he so taken back by you referring to him as his Nocturnal persona? 

“King would and so would Noah, both without a second thought. Know why?” 

With the red light still glaring through the windshield, Noah reached over to grip your chin. His fingers were gentle despite the argument you were having, but he still used enough force to turn your head to look at him. It was nothing like the brutal jerk Vane would've used and had many times. Back then you would've flinched from Noah just extending a hand towards you, but now all you wanted to do was lean in closer to him. 

“Why?” You murmured, his eyes staring directly into yours with an intensity that made you press your thighs together. 

“Because I'm Noah and I'm King. There wouldn't be one without the other. You know what else?” He was slowly closing the distance between your faces, his hand releasing your chin only to trace down your neck before loosely securing his long fingers around the base of your throat - something he had a habit of doing. The gesture was possessive and you knew immediately that your panties were soaked. 

Noah didn't wait for you to respond before he handed you the answer. “I care about you and my main mission right now is to make sure you. Are. Safe.” 

His lips were then crashing against yours in a hard kiss that had your heart pounding and your breath stalling in your lungs. This man definitely didn't half-ass anything. The sensations that coursed through your body from a mere kiss were electric and practically made you putty in his hands. It didn't last for long, though, because the traffic light was soon turning green, but Noah still gave your neck a squeeze before he was pulling away and focusing his attention back on the road. 

Well, fuck. 

An hour later you were freshly showered and sitting up in Noah’s bed. Neither of you had spoken since your argument in the car except for when he asked if you were hungry upon entering his apartment. You declined his offer of food, leaving him to fix whatever he was in the mood for as you opted to stand beneath scalding water instead. 

Noah’s words kept replaying in your head on an endless loop that was causing a headache to form behind your eyes. Well, maybe it was all the wine you drank too, but that was beside the point. Was he truly willing to shoot someone for you? Not just to wound them, but actually shoot to kill? The thought alone made you shiver and you pulled the blankets up over your legs to help rid yourself of the chill. 

Vane never would've killed someone for you, but he surely would've because of you. He looked at you as property with his name branded everywhere, whereas Noah wanted no harm to come your way because he cared. While you were aware of their similarities, they were still drastically different and you hated that your mind kept wanting to compare the two. 

“Just going to grab some clothes and shower.” Noah softly spoke as he entered his room and immediately went for the dresser. He retrieved a random graphic tee from the top of the pile and then a pair of gray sweatpants, his eyes shifting to you when he slid the drawer closed. 

“Okay,” you barely whispered, your fingers twisting around strands of your wet hair. 

“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asked from where he stood in the doorway between his bedroom and the bathroom. He had almost closed the door separating the two but turned around at the last second to blurt out the question. 

Lifting your gaze to meet with his, you gave a hesitant nod. 

“I know the sooner the better but I'm exhausted and need to sleep.” 

“It's okay,” you sheepishly smiled. “Talking tomorrow is fine.” 

Honestly, you hated “talking” but you weren't going to deny Noah of what he wanted. You also didn't know what he wanted to talk about and that obviously piqued your curiosity. Could be your living situation or whatever this relationship was you two shared, or possibly even things about Nocturnal. No matter the topic, you had no reason to turn him down. 

With a single nod, Noah shut the bathroom door and a few seconds later you heard the water to the shower cut on. Taking in a deep breath, you turned off the side lamp and shimmed down into his bed, shifting around until you were comfortable. Or as comfortable as you could get. You still felt odd with Noah sleeping on the couch and it had been so long since he was in his own bed that it didn't even smell like him anymore. The comfort you previously held onto when wrapped in his blankets was gone and you feared you missed it. 

“I can hear you tossing and turning from the bathroom.” Noah was tugging on his shirt from the now open doorway, allowing you a quick glimpse of his heavily tattooed torso. You didn't try to avert your gaze elsewhere because that would've been a travesty. He deserved to be admired. If only you could do it with both your eyes and hands. 

How much time had even passed since he went to shower? You could've sworn it was only a couple of minutes but it must've been much longer than that judging by how steamy the bathroom was. Noah clearly liked his showers extra hot just as you did. 

“Will you sleep in here tonight?” You dropped your arms down to the bed with a defeated sigh and gave him the saddest look you possibly could. 

“I really don't thin–”

“Please, Noah?” You cut him off, the desperation heavy in your voice. It wasn't because you were going to try anything - you already knew having sex the first time and being drunk was off the table - but because you needed him close. You hated that he spoke to you as if you were the most important person to him currently, but then constantly distanced himself. 

It fucking hurt and had your mind reeling in all directions. 

Noah didn't respond, but he did step forward and lift the blankets enough for him to slip beneath. You slid over to the right side of the bed, allowing him ample space so that you weren't crowding him. Once he was settled, you were both laying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling. Silence again drifted between you. 

“I fucked up,” you then admitted. 

The first time you were sharing a bed with Noah and you were not only drunk, but you were also going to ruin it by spilling your guts. Hopefully only in a metaphorical sense and not actually. Thanks, wine. 

“I told Mel about…what's happening.” 

“Shit,” Noah breathed out. You didn't have to look at him to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He had a way of doing that when he was frustrated. 

“I just…was tired of keeping it from her and I needed someone to talk to about it. No offense.” 

“No, I get it. She's your best friend.” His fingers drummed along his chest, soft thumps that you could barely make out. “I can't be upset with you when I did the same thing.” 

Yeah, you were still a little irritated about him telling Jolly, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. Maybe it would be for the best in the long run. 

Needing to talk about anything else, you opted to change the subject. “Do you work tomorrow?” 

“No, it's my one day off since we're closed on Sundays.” 

“Maybe we can go by my apartment? There's things I need to get that I forgot.” 

For example, the thousands of dollars beneath the floorboards of your closet. You didn't know how you were going to explain that to Noah but you didn't like just leaving it there. You needed to have it within reach. 

Noah yawned, but you could see him nodding his head through the darkness. “Yeah, that's fine. We’ll swing by.” 

You were tempted to say something else just so you could hear his voice a bit more, but the sound of his breathing evening out let you know that he was drifting off to sleep. Turning your head to look at Noah, your eyes now mostly adjusted to the dark, you were transfixed by how perplexed he appeared. How could someone still be so tense even when sleeping? 

Frowning to yourself, you carefully turned onto your side so that you were facing him. Your upper body angled just enough until your cheek was ever so slightly resting on his shoulder. There were a few seconds where you thought maybe this was an odd thing to do - cuddling up to Noah as he slept - but the shift of his hand onto your bent leg immediately caused those thoughts to dissipate. Your heart skipped a beat, a fluttering starting in your stomach that you could only blame on those damned butterflies. Weren't you too old for those? Your body clearly thought otherwise when it came to him. 

Finally, the calming scent that was just so Noah eased you back into what you could only consider to be tranquility. An intoxicating mix of mint and pine. Your thoughts slowed, the weight on your shoulders lifting, even if for just a night. Whether Noah was truly asleep or simply faking it, you didn't care. If it was the latter then that meant he wanted to comfort you however he could in the moment. But if he was actually asleep? Well, that only meant you eased his mind just as he did yours, so much that he was seeking you out while unconscious. 

X X X 

Don't trust Noah. Don't trust Noah. Don't trust Noah. 

Trust no one. No one. 

Nicholas’ warning was what swirled through your brain the following morning. You were silent as you stared down at a sleeping Noah, his head somehow finding your chest in the middle of the night, that being where it currently still rested. You never would've pegged him as a cuddler, but alas, he was cuddling you. 

If you were to trust no one, then how were you expected to trust what Nicholas had said? It bothered you that he hadn't given you any reasons as to why you shouldn't trust Noah or Red, specifically the former, but since Nicholas had known both much longer than yourself, then maybe you should heed his warning. Or at least take him seriously enough to be on the lookout for yourself, right? 

It was just so hard when Noah was like this. His body was radiating a heat into yours that you only wanted to dig deeper into, his scent still clouding your senses and easily becoming your new favorite indulgence. He was your favorite indulgence. Fuck, you were so screwed. Allowing your eyes to drift away from him, you instead focused them briefly on the ceiling. You had only been awake for maybe ten minutes and Noah hadn't moved a muscle since. This didn't surprise you considering how utterly exhausted he had appeared the night before. He was clearly due for some sleeping in. 

Just as you were closing your eyes to attempt another hour or so of sleep, you felt Noah’s fingers gently massaging into where they rested at your side. Was he awake? Or simply dreaming? You remained unmoving, opting to wait to see which option it could be. Only when you felt Noah shift a bit did you realize he was awake, but barely. He took in a deep breath, his shoulders rolling into a stretch, though his fingers continued to gently squeeze and rub down to your hip. 

“You're awake,” you whispered through the silence. You had expected Noah’s hand to stall but there was no hesitation in the way he touched you. How he was always so confident in everything he did, you would never know. But damn did you want to learn from him. 

“Mhmm,” Noah barely hummed a response. His cheek nuzzled into your chest, the warmth of his breath wafting across your breast and immediately causing your nipples to harden beneath the shirt you wore. One of his again, which Noah seemed to like. He had stared at you for far too long the first time you emerged wearing his clothes, explaining that you had forgotten to grab pajamas in your haste to pack a bag. He had zero objections. 

With your heart beginning to pound within your chest, you blushed. Noah without a doubt could hear the effect he had on you and maybe that's what urged him forward. The hand he had on your hip slipped beneath the fabric of the t-shirt to begin rubbing slow circles across your bare skin, working his way up at a tantalizing pace that had you pressing your thighs together for even the smallest amount of relief. 

“H-how did you sleep?” Fuck, that was embarrassing. You were already stammering over your words just from him touching you. Obviously you were touch starved, especially from someone you actually wanted to feel, but you didn't want it to be so embarrassingly obvious. 

Chills formed along your skin in the wake of his wandering fingers. He stroked along your stomach and over your waist, up to the valley between your breasts, and then over to tease the only one he could reach in this position. Your eyes fluttered closed as a fingertip circled your nipple before giving it a small pinch, just hard enough to force a whimper from your lips. Already your body was on fire with the need you had for him. An anticipation that had been building up since the very moment you laid your eyes on him only a few short months ago. 

Shit, was this how you were going to have him for the first time? Your hair a mess and with unbrushed teeth? At least he wasn't trying to kiss you, though you were sure you wouldn't be strong enough to reject it if he were to try. Not to mention how stopping him so you could go brush your teeth would completely ruin the moment. So, you were going to try not to think about it. Just as you were trying very hard to get Nicholas’ voice out of your head as well. 

Noah deeply inhaled as he palmed your breast, gently kneading into the mound. His short nails pricked your sensitive flesh, just enough to have you arching up against him in a desperate yet silent plea for more. As if being able to hear what you wanted, Noah released you, but not before giving your nipple another pinch and a firm tug. His hand was then traveling back down your body, curving over your hip to find the band of your panties. The shirt you wore had been long enough to cover everything, so you never even thought to further clothe yourself when Noah had crawled into bed with you. You were thankful you hadn't because you didn't currently want to deal with awkwardly shedding the layers. 

A shiver raced down your spine when his fingers dipped lower, making a slow trail between your thighs, but still over your panties much to your dismay. On instinct your thighs fell open and Noah immediately cupped your pussy with enough pressure to make your clit throb and your hips roll into his touch. You swore you could feel the way he smirked, obviously pleased with the reaction. 

I can't get enough of the way your body responds to me. Isn’t that what he had said only hours ago when he had you pressed against your apartment door? 

“Please?” You whimpered as he began to stroke his fingers along your pussy, pressing up against where he knew your clit to be every time he made it back to the top, only to return to featherlight touches again. Your head was already spinning and you were going to go crazy if you didn't have some sort of release soon. 

Noah, on the other hand, seemed like a patient man, the type who wanted to draw out your pleasure, but you could sense he was just as eager as you right then. Was that also his hard cock you felt pressed into your side? 

As silent as ever, he merely pushed your panties to the side and finally touched you in the ways you had been fantasizing about. He actually groaned when he felt how wet you were for him and his hips jerked forward slightly, but it was more than enough for you to have your answer. That was definitely his cock you felt and you swore it was even harder than it had been mere seconds ago. 

He began to circle your clit slowly, every slip of his fingers making you softly moan and your chest rise and fall faster. Already you could feel the pressure building within you, your hips writhing under his touch, seeking out more. You had one hand gripping his shirt in your fist at the middle of his back, the other doing the same to the sheets. You were trying your best to keep your body under control, but it was impossible when Noah was touching you. He made you feel things no one else ever had, and to think he had barely even had his hands on you. 

The sudden pressure of his fingers sinking into you broke your train of thought. Your head fell back against the pillows and your hips rolled into his hand, forcing those two long fingers of his even deeper. You didn't want to control yourself anymore. No, you wanted to fall headfirst into Noah and whatever this was between you. You could trust him. Nicholas just didn't know what he was talking about. 

As your thighs trembled around his hand, you opened your eyes so you could glance down to watch his tattooed fingers disappear again and again. He pumped them into your pussy at a steady pace, curling them just right to have you begging for more. “Don't stop,” you gasped, your hips twitching every time the heel of his hand ground against your swollen and needy clit. 

Noah was reaching depths in your cunt that your own fingers couldn't and you felt nothing but bliss because of it. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and tightened more the closer you were to your orgasm. Even Noah’s own breath was coming in soft pants along your chest, his cock rubbing against your side. You so badly wanted to reach into his sweatpants and have him cum in your hand, but he had made it clear that this was about you. 

You pouted when he pulled his fingers from you, just so he could play with your clit some more. He pinched and rubbed the nerves, just as he had done to your nipple, though now with more vigor. You gasped and moaned his name, the tight circles he made nearly sending you into a frenzy. Right when you felt your end coming, he stopped, forcing his skilled fingers back hard into your dripping pussy. It was all too much. The pressure was becoming almost painful as you chased your release. 

Noah kept his fingers buried deep inside of you, no longer thrusting, but instead stroking along that golden spot in a way that had you seeing stars. Your body tensed and your thighs closed around his hand the very moment you shattered. Every nerve in your body went off at the same time, your pussy convulsing around his fingers and tightening like a vise to keep him in place. You scratched at his back, your nails sinking in deep, uncaring of the wounds he'd be left with. 

You were sure you also yelled out his name in the midst of your release. Possibly a few times. 

How the fuck was he so good with just his hands? He didn't even stop as your orgasm raced through you, his fingers still working you to the brink of insanity so you could ride out the pleasure. Your body trembled and your legs shook, your hips still moving against his hand so you could rub your clit along his palm in the most intense way. When your legs finally stilled and loosened from around his hand, Noah then slowed the pumping of his fingers. He eased out of your still fluttering pussy and you whimpered in response, every inch of you now overly sensitive. 

Noah raised up over you, his eyes finally greeting yours. He studied your face, which you knew was flushed, your eyes heavy but bright thanks to that amazing wake up. His lips formed into a faint smirk before he looked away to instead admire his fingers that were glistening with your arousal. You again felt his cock twitch against your side but he seemed unconcerned by it. 

“Good morning,” Noah said for the first time while carefully untangling himself from you and slipping off the bed, his fingers at his mouth as he cleaned you off of them with casual yet hungry swipes of his tongue. 

That image would forever be burned into your mind. 

“Morning…” you breathlessly murmured, watching him disappear into the bathroom. Not before noticing the rather large tent that was in his sweatpants, though it wasn't like he made any attempts to conceal it. God, he was always so confident. And from what you could see, he had every reason to be. 

You weren't sure how long you stared at the halfway closed bathroom door, but when Noah finally emerged again, the tent in his sweats was gone and he looked your way with a well rested smile. Unfortunately, you couldn't return to the smile, because you had grown more and more confused the longer you had sat alone with your thoughts. 

“What was that?” You were no longer shaking, finally, your body settled back into its natural state. This meant you weren't tripping over your words anymore when trying to exude even an ounce of the same confidence Noah had. 

Noah arched an inquisitive brow while pulling his anime graphic tee from his body. With his sweats sitting low on his hips, you were graced with the perfect view of his bare torso. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, your gaze slipping down his body without shame. You wanted to trace every tattoo he had with your tongue and find out which one made him shiver the most. Fuck, he had ruined you just from making you cum once. 

“What was what?” He went to the closet to retrieve a plain black t-shirt from the mass of other black clothing. You assumed this is where he kept his Nocturnal clothes. On the opposite side of the room from his regular day to day clothing…interesting…

“That,” you motioned back towards the bed behind your shoulder, your voice stern since he wanted to play dumb for whatever reason. “You're just going to finger me and then act like everything is normal?” 

Noah’s brows knitted and he paused, the black shirt he held still clasped in his hands. “Are things not normal between us now?” 

He seemed genuinely confused and, okay, maybe you felt a little bad about it but you were also confused. Weren't you? No way were you making this weird…right? That was a damn good question he had asked, though. 

“No. Yes…I don't know.” 

Setting his shirt aside, he took light steps until he was standing in front of where you still sat on the bed. Noah extended a hand out to gently stroke your jaw before his fingers shifted through your messy hair and then stalled at the back of your neck. Your eyes were set up on his, your heart again beginning to race due to how close his half naked body was to yours.  

Noah leaned down, his lips barely brushing yours with every word he spoke. “I'm not going to act like it didn't happen, if that's what you’re worried about,” his eyes searched yours. “Believe me, I wouldn't be able to ignore the way your tight pussy squeezed around my fingers even if I wanted to.” 

His nose lightly brushed yours before he captured your lips for a tender kiss. It didn't last for nearly as long as you would have wanted, but you knew it was for the best so neither of you got carried away. You already wanted to rip his clothes off and have your way with him after the way he just spoke to you. It made your thighs clench and your lower stomach do a flip. 

“And the way you taste?” A groan rose to the back of his throat, both of his hands firmly holding your face again. “So fucking sweet and perfect.” His lips again fell to yours, the pressure behind the kiss easily would've made your knees give out had you not been perched on the bed. Your fingers danced along the bare skin of his chest and stomach, just as you had dreamed of doing, as your tongue moved in tandem with his own. His mouth still tasted just as amazing as it had the night before and you were immediately addicted. You needed more. 

Unfortunately, Noah had other plans. He slowly pulled back, both thumbs ghosting over your cheeks before he released you completely. A small step back was taken, giving himself enough room to pull his black shirt on, as well as black jeans after losing his sweatpants. 

“I have to do a couple of things and then I'll be back. You'll be okay, right?” 

Of course you would be. It wasn't like you really had a choice, though. 

“I thought we were going to my apartment?” 

You stood from the bed and stepped up to him, your fingers trailing the length of his arm. You didn't want him to leave, but you knew he had something with work to do despite claiming it was his day off. 

“I'll only be an hour or two and then we’ll go. I promise.”

Nodding, you allowed Noah to pull you in closer so he could then press his lips to the top of your head. You responded with a gentle smile because while you didn't want him to go, you weren't going to be childish and beg him to stay or ask if you could tag along. There had to be some separation. You knew this. 

“Jackson will be outside, okay? He’ll be here in seconds if anything happens, especially if you don't answer his check ins.”

Yeah…you were pretty bad at that, but only because you had a terrible habit of leaving your phone lying anywhere and everywhere. 

Noah called out his goodbye to you after you had flopped back against his bed with full intentions on going back to sleep. What better way to pass the time than that? Unfortunately, sleep never took you. Not completely. You had dozed off here and there, but eventually you awoke after only half an hour and decided to shower. Also, you couldn't believe you had let Noah kiss you without you first brushing your teeth. Ugh. 

After your shower, you dressed in black leggings and another one of Noah’s shirts. You had clothes to wear out and about, but there was something about wearing his that made you feel safer. They were also extremely comfortable and smelled like him - two of your favorite things. Dropping back onto the couch, you let your mind melt away for a bit without whatever television shows you could find. You even attempted one of Noah’s animes he loved so much, and although you didn't understand what was going on, you still found it entertaining. 

Nearly two hours had passed when you looked at the time on your phone for the fifth time. Not even a text from Noah? That was odd. 

Pulling up your messages, you went to the one labeled “GUARD DOG 1” and began to type. 

YOU: Nothing from Noah? 

A few seconds passed before the gray circles appeared to indicate Jackson’s typing. 

GUARD DOG 1: He got pulled away again. He should be leaving shortly. 

Ugh. So much for getting to spend a day with just him. 

GUARD DOG 1: Need anything? 

YOU: No, I'm good. Want a mini pizza? 

GUARD DOG 1: I've got a PopTart and some chips. I'm set. 

The couch is where you remained for another hour. Then another. You were becoming angry at this point. Mostly because he couldn't even spare a second to message or call you himself, but had Jackson doing it every half hour. You kept telling yourself to not be mad because he was working. But what the fuck could be so important at a nightclub that he left you for so long after making you a promise? 

When another thirty minutes drifted by, you had had enough. You pushed away from the couch and slid your shoes on, then began to rummage through your bag until you found the keys to your apartment. If Noah wasn't going to take you, then you would take yourself. The only reason why you had asked him to in the first place was because you knew he wouldn't want you to go alone. He never wanted you to go anywhere alone anymore. 

Simmering in your anger, you exited the safety of his apartment and made a beeline for your own. There were two routes you could take: outside across the small courtyard that connected to the sidewalk that separated your buildings or you could go up a few floors and take the breezeway. You opted for the latter because it didn't run the risk of Jackson seeing you. You had put that guy through enough already. 

You politely smiled at other tenants when they passed, a few with familiar faces and some not, though they didn't appear to be any sort of threat. You hated that this was how you thought of people now, constantly wondering if they were employed by your father and after you. Maybe you should leave the city. Wouldn't that make it easier for everyone? Something told you Noah would never allow it now, though. And if you ran away in the middle of the night, wouldn't he just be able to find you? That thought caused your stomach to flip again. Something about it made you shiver, but not with fear. 

Pushing all of those thoughts aside, your steps began to slow as you approached your apartment. It didn't take you nearly as long to unlock the door as it had the night before, simply because you didn't have Noah pressed into your back and kissing your neck. Honestly, that was kind of a bummer. Taking in a deep breath, you held it in as you gently nudged the door open. The disaster remained just where you had left it, the creeping silence making it all the more terrible. 

“Fuck,” you murmured to yourself during the first step inside you took. You opted to leave the door cracked, just because that connection to the outside world for some reason made you feel safer. You knew it was ridiculous, but what did you care? 

“Ignore it all,” you continued to whisper to yourself. You weren't here to inspect the damage or wallow in your pity. You came for one thing and you needed to remain on task so you could get in and get out as quickly as possible. It would be a few minutes before Jackson would call to check in again, so your goal was to be back in Noah's apartment by then. 

Rushing back to your bedroom, you flung your closet doors open and immediately went for an overnight bag on the top shelf. Quick. You had to be quick. You dropped to your knees, fingertips grazing the hardwood until you found the floorboard you had pried up many times before. You dug your nails beneath the wood and repeated the same motions until the wood edged up enough for you to slip your fingers beneath it. It was hollow in this area, for reasons unknown to you. Maybe another tenant had hidden things in the same spot in the past. 

You lifted another board to give yourself enough room to retrieve the opaque container you had the money stashed away in. $300,000 to be exact, money you had stolen from Vane after your fight to the death with him. You always thought large amounts like this would be impossibly heavy, but the bills fit easily into your overnight bag and weighed no more than seven or eight pounds. Who would've thought? 

As you were loading the money into the bag, you heard the creak of a floorboard. The sound immediately had you on alert. Your motions stalled, your eyes wide, ears listening out for any other sound. No other noise came, so maybe you were just imagining it. It was your anxiety getting the best of you. Shaking your head, you continued with the task at hand as fast as you could. Bundles of fifties and hundreds were shoved into the bag one after the other, again and again until your fingers were brushing the bottom of the container. 

Finally, you had it all. 

You carefully placed the container back beneath the floor and replaced the boards to their rightful location. The last one had just slid into place when you heard the same creak again, followed by what sounded like shards of glass being stepped on. 

“Hello?” You called out, your heart pounding within your chest. It was from both the adrenaline and the fear you now felt. “Jackson?” 

No answer. Just another piece of glass scraping against the floor in the living room. 

“Noah? Is that you?” 

No, he knew better than to sneak up on you like this. He would never do that. He would've yelled your name as soon as he stepped into the apartment. 

With shaky hands you hauled the bag over your shoulder with all intentions of running to the front door. When you looked down the hallway, though, there was a tall, dark figure in your path. You froze, fear coursing through your veins. That wasn't Jackson or Noah, but instead a person you had wished to never see again. 

This man was taller than Noah, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He was bald, which you were easily able to make out even in the distance that separated you, intricate tattoos covering his head. His name was Hawk, one of Vane’s right hand men that did all of his biddings, no matter how horrible. He had been present for many of Vane’s atrocities against you and now there he was, standing in your apartment. 

“You're a very hard girl to find,” he breathed, the joy he got out of this evident in his tone. 

“That's typically how it goes when trying not to be found,” you shot back while reaching for your phone in your pocket. 

“I wouldn't do that,” Hawk took a step forward. “Or else your little guard downstairs is going to get a bullet through his head.” 

“Don't you dare,” you spoke through gritted teeth, your eyes narrowing at this monster of a man. 

Hawk laughed, a few more steps then taken towards you, which you took the same amount backwards. It wasn't like you had anywhere to go unless you wanted to jump out the window. It would surely end in your death but that was better than being at the hand of Hawk and whoever else was waiting for you. 

“What do you want? The money? You can fucking have it.” You shrugged the bag off your shoulder and dropped it to the floor, allowing him the chance to snag it. Hawk didn't even look at the bag, though. His sights were set firmly on you. 

“You think he gives a shit about that money? No, baby, he wants you.” 

Of course your father didn't want the money. He had enough to last multiple lifetimes and then some. 

You fell silent, both you and Hawk staring each other down, daring the other to make the first move. It would be easier for you to escape now that you didn't have the money on your shoulder, but fuck, it was going to hurt having to leave it behind.  

Without a thought you ran for the mountain of a man, your body easily dipping below the height of his arm as you squeezed by him. Hawk reached for you, one large hand securing around your waist and pulling you down with enough momentum to send you falling to the ground. The wind was briefly knocked out of you and you remained on the floor, desperately trying to gain a breath while ignoring the pain in your back where you had landed. 

“You should've made this easy for both of us,” he snarled, his large form standing over you, a foot on either side of your hips. 

You coughed a few times as your lungs ached to expand, your eyes frantically searching for anything littering the floor that you could protect yourself with. You figured it would be simple since your apartment was a mess, but what were you to do with little pieces of glass and pillow stuffing? 

“I have to bring you in alive, but he didn't say anything about unharmed.” 

Hawk leaned down and gripped your shoulders to force your body up. You then quickly shoved your hand into his face, a palm full of broken glass pressed into his skin. You twisted and turned your hand, ignoring the pain that you were inflicting on yourself at the same time, all to embed the glass as deep as you could. Hawk yelled out, blood now dripping down his face, but it wasn't enough to make him fully lose his concentration. 

No, he was still coherent enough to send a fist flying into the side of your head. Your body met the floor again, blackness dancing before your eyes on impact. You were briefly dazed, just long enough for Hawk to find his bearings and begin reaching for you once more. 

“No!” You yelled, your hands hitting against his, your legs kicking beneath him. You needed to fight him off however he could, even though deep down you knew he was going to take you. That didn't mean you were going to make the task simple. “Get away from me! He's going to kill you!” 

Hawk tossed his head back and laughed as soon as he had your wrists pinned down above your head. “Who's going to kill me? That pretty boy you've been spending your time with? I can't say I'm scared, baby.” 

The sound of your phone ringing cut through Hawk’s laughter and you both paused. It only took a couple of seconds for you to begin squirming again, desperately trying to pull a hand free so you could answer the call you knew had Jackson on the other end. It was time for your check in. 

Your knee collided with Hawk’s crotch, leaving him stunned. He huffed out a heavy breath and his body tensed, giving you just enough time to force your foot into his knee with a crack, sending him rolling to the ground. You grabbed your phone from your back pocket, the screen broken from the fall you had taken, but you didn't care. You could still see that it was Jackson. 

“Jackson!” You yelled as soon as you accepted the call while trying your best to pull yourself to your feet. Hawk was right behind you, though. His hand secured around your ankle and you again met the hardwood floor with a loud thud. 

“I'm coming up!” Jackson hollered. How did he know where you were, though? He would go to Noah’s apartment under the assumption that you were still there, unaware of your little field trip to your home. By the time he realized it, you knew you'd be long gone. And what about the threat Hawk had made against him? Was it a bluff or was there actually someone downstairs with his gun trained on Jackson? 

Before you could warn him, the phone was ripped from your hand and thrown to the ground. Hawk ground his boot into the device, rendering it completely useless. You could feel tears welling within your eyes, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the blood you could taste in your mouth or because you were about to be kidnapped. Maybe it was a nice combo of both. At least you knew your father wouldn't kill you…or so you were hoping. 

“You fight back more than you used to,” Hawk taunted with an evil smirk as he turned your body over. “He's going to love that.” 

Before you could make another sound, Hawk’s heavy fist slammed into your face again, and you were left with nothing but a shock of pain and then overwhelming darkness. 

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[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

my lovely, please ⌛⌛⌛ some snippets!

I GOTCHU BB

⌛ #1 Buck starts saying what he means!

“I had hoped that you'd want to try again,” Tommy says, and Buck nods vehemently. “Now that the competition—”

Buck’s hand is over Tommy's mouth, and they're both looking at each other with wide eyes at the gesture. He's only done this when they're joking, but this isn't one of those times.

“There's no competition,” Buck says, taking his hand away just in time to see a little twist to Tommy's lips that ignite that anger and hurt again. He steps back and swallows hard. “Who could compete with how I feel about you? Huh? Because from where I'm standing, every single day since you left has been hell for me. I thought I'd gone through this before, but I didn't have to start using coping mechanisms to deal with Abby leaving me. I didn't cause an actual flour shortage at a grocery store because of her or anyone else except for you. I haven't ever been afraid to pick up my phone because I can't trust myself not to call someone day in and day out for months. So who the fuck is your competition, Tommy?”

⌛ #2 A few minutes later after confessions

“So now I have two questions for you,” Buck says, stepping back to hop up on the counter. “One: what are you doing Saturday? And two: I know you probably spent, like, thirteen bucks on those eggs, but do you think we could reheat them?”

Tommy steps between his thighs and looks at Buck’s eyes and then his lips. “Why? What’d you have in mind?”

“For the first or second question?”

“Either. Both.”

Buck crosses his wrists behind Tommy's neck and feels his belly flutter when Tommy's hands go to his waist. “Thought we could do dinner. Not Micelli’s until we know there's not a curse there, two bad dates feels like a sign. And I really want to have ‘I just told someone I love them’ sex.”

Tommy smiles, moving closer until their chests touch on every exhale. “There's no such thing as curses, but fine. I was thinking of that Thai place by my house, since I finally got to try it and it's really good. And most people call that ‘making love.’”

The term always seemed cheesy and dumb to Buck, but what does he know? Tommy's the romcom expert. “There is such thing, that sounds great. And, fine: Tommy, will you make love to me on my bare mattress on the floor?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” Tommy says, pulling him close and smiling into their next kiss.

⌛ #3 They just had sex and Buck thinks they should celebrate!

Buck grins and raises his arms above his head, his wrists crossing over each other on his pillow, because it always makes Tommy's pupils dilate a little. “Sounds like something worth celebrating. Got anything for that?”

His boyfriend's incredulity shifts to exasperation and then mild embarrassment. “Saw that, did you?”

“I did,” he confirms happily. Actually, it's another piece of evidence that he either had the world's most lucid prophetic dream or he somehow went back in time. So he should maybe be more concerned. But Tommy's still inside him, and his head is shaking and he's grinning and there's deep lines around his eyes. He'll worry about it later.

“That's supposed to be for mimosas.” Tommy kisses his nose and carefully, carefully pulls out. “But I'll open it now. Do you have any champagne flutes in an easily accessible box?”

Buck snorts softly. “I don't think I even have them in an inaccessible box.”

Tommy hoists himself to his feet and walks unsteadily toward the door. “I'll get you some. As a housewarming gift.”

He grabs his tank top to wipe himself off and grins. “Pretty sure you already got me a gift. Twice.”

“Actually,” Tommy says, smirking over his shoulder. “Three gifts.”

“Three gifts,” Buck agrees, because there had been that blowjob to take the pressure off the night before. Or the night before that? Whatever.

He lays on the bed and makes a face when he realizes he has cum leaking out of him onto a bare mattress and feels retroactively guilty for the at least three times he'd done this same thing to his exes.

[cwritesforfun]

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader: Bodyguard Part Two

Link to part one - here!

Part three - there will be one!

Y/N = Your First Name L/N = Your Last Name

*I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters. The plot is completely different here!

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

After the Los Angeles show, where you and many fans almost lost your lives, you didn't want to keep making music. You felt lost and scared.

Your manager posted notes crafted by her, the band, and you, talking about how we felt following the concert. We refunded every concertgoer their money back and first come-first serve on our next concert.

Your manager started putting together a benefit concert to host 1 month from the date of the Los Angeles show. All money would be sent to the victim's families and a charity to support mental health. We would give free tickets to those who attended the Los Angeles show, and then the rest of the tickets would be $50. We invited some fellow bands to play and help raise money as well.

Your recovery process would take over a month, so your band's performance would be exclusively acoustic. Your band had never done that before, so you started practicing and putting together a setlist that would work.

Your recovery required monitoring medications and getting lots of rest. The good news is that after your mom left, Rafe took over as your "caretaker." He was always there and even moved into one of your spare bedrooms. He cooked for you, opened up more, and helped you change your bandages. You found yourself starting to enjoy his company more and relying on his presence to have a better day. His days off were always sad, but he never seemed to take the full day because he claimed he didn't need a full day of rest.

One night, you're in the kitchen eating ice cream, and you hear someone knock on the door. You hear someone open it and hushed tones. You get up and slowly peek your head around the corner to see Rafe talking with what looks like his sister from the photos you've seen. She makes eye contact and waves. You wave back and she pushes past Rafe into the house. She walks over and exclaims, "Hi I'm Sarah, I'm Rafe's younger sister." You shake her hand and reply, "Nice to meet you, Sarah. Your brother has told me great things about you. I'm Y/N." She smiles widely and replies, "Oh I know who you are. I'm a big fan and I begged Rafe to take this job. Wait, what did he say about me?" You answer, "I'll tell you if you want to stay for some ice cream." She smiles and replies, "Deal." She makes herself a bowl and Rafe walks back into the room. He says, "Sarah, what are you doing? I thought you weren't staying." Sarah replies, "Y/N asked me to stay for ice cream." You add, "And besides, I haven't seen many new people recently. It'll be nice to talk to someone." Rafe bites his lip a little, sighs, and replies, "At least sit on the couch, Y/N. I don't think you should be sitting upright this much for recovery." You reply, "You're probably right. Sarah, follow me."

You sit with Sarah on the couch and Rafe asks, "Is it cool if I let you two just talk? I need to make a call." Sarah quickly replies, "Take as long as you want, brother. I can watch and protect Y/N... We can have a girl talk." Rafe turns to you and you say, "I'm fine, Rafe. Go ahead." He nods and leaves the room.

Sarah turns to you and exclaims, "First things first, tell me do you like him?" You ask, "What? Who?" Sarah looks at you with a deadpan expression and says, "Don’t play dumb. My brother." You scoffs, "Rafe? No. Absolutely not. That’s ridiculous." She smirks, "Right. So you just stare at him like he hung the moon for fun? And you both care for each other's opinions." You reply, "I do not—" She replies, "Mhm. Sure. Look, I’m not judging, I just don’t get why you guys are making this so complicated. If you like each other, just… kiss already. Or, I don’t know, date in secret." You groans, "Sarah." She asks, "What? It’s a solid plan! The whole 'forbidden romance' thing? Super dramatic. Super hot." You rub your temples and say, "You make it sound like a teen drama." She asks, "Isn’t it, though? You’re a superstar, he’s your bodyguard who saved you from nearly dying?" You say, "Exactly. He’s my bodyguard, Sarah." She asks, "And?" You answer, "And that means he’d lose his job. His whole career. Everything." She shrugs and says, "So? He can get another job. You can hire him as your full-time, I don’t know, boyfriend bodyguard." You laugh and reply, "That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard." She smiles and replies, "Thank you."

You exhale, leaning back against the pillows. Your smile fades slightly.

You exclaim," It’s not that simple, Sarah. Your brother is the best at his job. He's really freaking great. And, he takes his job seriously. And I… I don’t want to be the reason he loses something important." Sarah asks softly, "But what if you’re the important thing?" You swallow, looking away. Sarah watches you for a moment, then nudges you playfully. She says, "Just think about it, okay? And if you do kiss him, I demand to be the first to know even if he's my brother." You laugh and ask, "How is this the first time we're talking? You're so easy to talk to." She answers, "Oh, that, yeah, my brother keeps his work life pretty separated from his personal life. I always ask him questions about you because I love your music, but like you said, he's pretty serious about not revealing much. I love him, though. But he could at least get me a concert ticket or something." You ask, "Have you never seen my band live?" She shakes her head and says, "No, it sold out last tour. I really wanted to go and Rafe refused to get me any tickets."

Rafe walks into the room with a smoothie in hand, slides into the spot next to Sarah, and asks, "What are you girls talking about?" Sarah answers, "What a bad brother you are." He gasps and you say, "We'll have to get her tickets to my next concert. Will you be needing a plus-one?" Sarah answers, "Oh that would be great." You reply, "Great! I cannot wait and I hope you have the best time." Rafe says, "You'll regret that. She'll be a bigger fan now." You laugh. You keep talking with them for a while before Sarah has to head out.

As Sarah leaves, she says, "Both of you, think about what I said and act on it." She winks and you wonder what she said to Rafe.

You wash your bowl and start to climb the stairs to your bedroom. Rafe catches up with you and asks, "Need any help up the stairs?" You answer, "No, I feel okay today. I do want to switch my bandages though. I also think I need to apply some anti-itch cream." He replies, "Ok, yeah I'll help."

We go into the bathroom where you lay down and Rafe helps you with your bandages.

After you are in bed, Rafe asks, "What did my sister tell you to act on?" He's facing away, and he's looking at the photos on your wall. You answer, "It's actually kind of personal. What did she tell you to act on?" He glances at you and answers, "Something personal." Could you both be thinking the same thing? Who will be the first person to make the move if so?

The next few weeks as you prepare for the benefit concert are brutal. Your body is pushed every day, and you feel drained.

One night, as you sit in bed, you find yourself humming a little tune, and you start writing out song lyrics. It's about falling for a crush and wanting to make a move but fearing rejection.

You write another song the next night about needing and wanting to feel protected. Your mind is still on the last Los Angeles show and how you could've died. These lyrics come quickly to you.

You want to play the songs for your band and see what they think - maybe they could be debuted at your benefit concert?

PART 3 - BEING WRITTEN NOW

[starwrittenresources]

✨— 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ✨

quotes from the 1975 Monty Python and the Holy Grail film. feel free to switch around pronouns, diction, and the like to make them more suitable for your muse.

❝ Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony. ❞

❝ Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see. ❞

❝ What… is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow? ❞

❝ What makes you think she's a witch? ❞

❝ 'Tis but a scratch! ❞

❝ I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries! ❞

❝ Oh, stop bitching and let’s go have tea. ❞

❝ Those who hear them seldom live to tell the tale! ❞

❝ You stay in the room and make sure he doesn’t leave. ❞

❝ You’re not going to do a song while I’m here. ❞

❝ What I object to is that you automatically treat me like an inferior! ❞

❝ Guards, make sure the prince doesn't leave this room until I come and get him.❞

❝ Look, it's my duty as a knight to sample as much peril as I can. ❞

❝ We were in the nick of time. You were in great peril. ❞

❝ It's just a flesh wound. ❞

❝ Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? ❞

❝ In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right? ❞

❝ Will you go and tell your master that Arthur from the Court of Camelot is here?❞

❝ Come and see the violence inherent in the system. Help! Help! I'm being repressed! ❞

❝ Well, that's no ordinary rabbit. ❞

❝ Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer! ❞

❝ We are now no longer the Knights who say Ni. ❞

❝ It's only a model! ❞

❝ Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred quest. If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail. ❞

❝ Well, I'll ask him, but I don't think he will be very keen. Uh, he's already got one, you see. ❞

❝ On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place. ❞

❝ Bring out yer dead. ❞

❝ I'm not dead. I'm getting better. ❞

❝ You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do? ❞

❝ Oh, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you. ❞

❝ You must cut down the mightiest tree in the forest… WITH… A HERRING! ❞

❝ Oh, king eh? Very nice. And how'd you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers. By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. ❞

❝ What manner of man are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?❞

❝ I seek the bravest and the finest knights in the land who will join me in my court at Camelot. ❞

❝ You have proved yourself worthy. Will you join me? ❞

❝ I have no quarrel with you, good Sir Knight. But I must cross this bridge. ❞

❝ Now, stand aside, worthy adversary! ❞

❝ Is there someone else up there we can talk to? ❞

❝ No, now go away or I shall taunt you a second time! ❞

❝ Follow. But! Follow only if ye be men of valor! For the entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel, that no man yet has fought with it… and lived! BONES of full fifty men lie strewn about its lair! So! Brave knights! If you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth… ❞

❝ Look, if he was dying, he wouldn't have bothered to carve 'Aaaauuuggghhhh'. He'd just say it. ❞

❝ I seek the Grail! I have seen it, here in this castle! ❞

❝ Get on with it! ❞

❝ Please! This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who. ❞

[angelsdvsts]

"i could really tell that you like the unicorns one even more, something about the way you eyes glowed.. i hope you had many moments like that when i was gone," despite him not being there, he hoped that she still had special moments, not wanting it to be with anyone other than himself, but she deserved so much more. "well, is it working lanes? you melting in that booth? if not i might just have to up my flirt factor," finally say all the thoughts that he was too terrified to voice out when he was younger. sucking in his breath, he shook his head at her, "oh, you definitely think that i'm all talk.. well, lanes -- when you're ready i'll be sure to prove you wrong," gaze twinkles at he looks over towards her, slight seriousness forms, but slowly gets replaced by the lightheartedness of the conversation. though there was a piece of him that wonders if she was really serious, if she really wanted to see him preform in front of her. . . shifting in his seat, as lips wraps around the straw, sucking up the thick shake. "oh, is that so? are you going to give me your little tabbing codes, so i know exactly what's going through your mind while reading each part?" brow quirks and he wanted to -- smirk grows when she admits to her coloring system. little did he know that his innocent best friend had been getting off from steamy romance books, now understanding why her nose always seems to be deep in a book. watches as she takes a sip from the shake, his eyes takes everything in, from the second she gulps the shake down causing him to groan quietly. fuck, she was the death of him and she didn't even know it. "taste exactly like how it did all those years ago," he couldn't help, but laugh. it was amazing that after all those years things haven't changed much. "yes, lanes -- anything you want . . ." and if she wanted his lips around those perky tits, he'd happily wrap them around them. "all i care about is your comfort, especially when you're on your period," his mother told him multiple horror stories, understanding the full depths of it and was always nothing, but kind to lainey during those times. watching as pupils dilated, a charming smirk makes way across his lips, "mhm.. think it's the hottest thing ever.. then when she gets tired and i completely take over and ram into her."

"they were the cutest things! i mean the little bears they had were adorable too but the unicorns were the best hands down." and of course rhys had gone and bought them for her, as if he knew from her reactions alone how happy it would make her. "i mean, you did make me blush sometimes but nothing like this --- it's like you're on a mission to see how fast i can melt into this booth." and lainey couldn't say it wasn't fun, that her body didn't tingle and hum with energy when he tossed a particularly flirty comment her way. "i wouldn't say lying but . . . maybe hyping yourself up a little? no shame about it, but i'd like to see some proof so that i can be sure that you're being completely honest with me." her stomach flips as the words leave her mouth, wondering if rhys was being serious or if this was just another joking conversation between the pair. lainey knows what she hopes for, even if admitting it out loud would change their dynamic forever. thanking the waitress as their drinks arrive lainey sits up straight, leaning over to pop the paper covering off her newly designated straw. "tabbing is essential when it's a really good book", informs her friend with a firm nod, grin tugging at the edges. "and no, for your information red is for the hottest scenes and pink is for the ones that have me squirming." she really shouldn't be discussing this with him, especially not in public --- but since she's admitted to delving a hand between her thighs while reading it only seems fair to reveal the rest. like how those hockey romances impacted more than they should, how easy it was to imagine herself and him in the character's places instead. taking a slow sip of their shake lainey hums in delight, the thick milky liquid coating her tongue and teeth. "mm, this is so damn good", lips press together as she savours the taste, fingers holding her straw gently. "i could make you do anything? like, anything? because my period is due pretty soon and i'd really appreciate some help." thighs rub together beneath the table, such filthy thoughts rushing through her head. "i mean i shared mine, it's only fair you share yours", and when he finally does admit what gets him off lainey's throat tightens, hues widening as her teeth scrape her bottom lip. "ride . . . ride you?" god she's too hot, pupils dilating as she plays with her straw. "so you like when a girl takes what she wants?"

[pastafossa]

DDBA THOUGHTS, FIRST TWO EPS.

It's been roughly 90 minutes and I am still processing, jesus fucking christ.

Set behind a cut due to spoilers but my thoughts are pretty positive, even if that shit ran my heart over like a dump truck. Below you will find:

My frantic reaction thoughts I wrote down during or immediately after (character dissections will be marked)

My overall thoughts on the first 2 eps as a whole

Dissection of Matt and where I think he's at currently in this headspace

Yes that's right, I'm using the sad gif. Spoilers ahead. Feel free to skip down to whichever part you like!

I will have more thoughts tomorrow but I am still feeling fucking weird because I'm trying to process both the new series events and the fact that Our Man is back after 6 years in show format and I feel like someone who's gone from starving to suddenly full of food and my body is CONFUSED

The mood whiplash in the first 15 mins going from, yup we're all happy, to absolute fucking building dread and then horrified agony was, I won't lie, well done. You made me want to vomit, thanks writers.

Spent the whole fight with Bullseye just sobbing and whispering, 'oh no, oh no, oh Foggy, baby, no, Matt, no-', pretty sure some part of me inside is stiiiiiiiiill sobbing, it will always be sobbing, gonna relive that for days 😭

Matt crying on the rooftop? Him being so fucking distraught that all he could do was lean on Dex even though Dex was the killer? Just fucking gut me. Worst we've ever seen him, bar none.

DISSECTION MOMENT: He pushes Dex over the edge. I'd wondered if he'd try to kill Dex, with that being his, 'A Line Was Crossed', and tbh I think if any canon death could make Matt kill, it would be Foggy's. And he certainly tried. Matt's always walked such a fine line when it comes to murder, and he's come VERY close before, usually only dodging it because the baddie gets lucky or we can squint and say they did it to themselves. Welp, here we are again, and this time I think the only reason Dex is alive is because of all that technology we saw them packing into Dex at the end of S3. To Matt? To Matt, he killed. That Dex technically lived is a coincidence. Matt tried to break his rule. He tried.

Yes I am still parked in Denial Hill wondering if Foggy will come around somehow, I need some time to organize my thoughts, but even if he's dead dead, I'm going to wait and see if they pull an Elektra and find some way to revive him.

DISSECTION MOMENT: Matt's new apartment (RIP our beloved old loft cause someone's living there now from what I understand) is nice but something I noticed is it's... a little colder. And I think that's intentional. Matt's old apartment was rougher around the edges, warmer, and I'd argue a little more symbolic both of the Kitchen and who he was each night on the streets. Half the reason he chose that old apartment was the roof access. This new apartment is for a Matt who's trying very hard to be done with Daredevil and live life only as Matt. He's locked away from the streets with no easy way to go running, he's situated high and cool and distant, with all those floors to slow him down if he gets impulsive.

Matt just disassociating his way through his breakfast and morning coffee, yup he's totally fine, definitely not trying to block out all those screams.

DISSECTION MOMENT: EXCUSE ME, CARRYING AROUND FOGGY'S MEMORIAL CARD. 😭 Personal theory is he's not just carrying it to have a little of Foggy with him, but because he's trying to remind himself why he's not being Daredevil anymore since he thinks that doing that got Foggy killed.

Queenpin, good for her.

Really liked the touch of Matt cooking in the dark because he doesn't need light. And I liked the addition of the neon lighting flashing in his windows, a good callout to his old apartment.

I'm also digging both Kirsten and Heather, esp Heather who we get more of. There's chemistry there, and she rolls with Matt pretty well. I'm very interested to see how she handles the Shenanigans TM that I'm sure he'll get up to later. I'd love if he could have a healthy canon relationship for once but this is also matt soooo. And that KISS, damn, when is it my turn

THE DINER SCENE WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED, THESE TWO ARE SO FUCKING PERFECT IN EVERY SCENE YOU HAVE THEM IN TOGETHER, GD

DISSECTION MOMENT: No but I really do think this is something that would keep Matt out of Hell's Kitchen for a bit as he struggles with his identity, his trauma, his fear, and with the 'costs' of what he does. All that work and he feels like he failed. He couldn't save the one person that mattered most to him. On top of that? He crossed his line. He tried to kill someone and would have succeeded if Dex hadn't been built different. All of that trauma around what happened... yeah I could see him trying to hang the cowl up and move to a new neighborhood in hopes that he'd be able to escape. And he is trying to escape. He's pushing all that down, pushing and pushing and I'm Fine-ing like he has with every previous death in his life, holding up like a good Catholic boy, but the cracks are showing. He's a powder keg.

YET MORE DISSECTION: And holy fucking shit when he blows up does he go. That fight at the end of the 2nd Episode had me feral. Definition of FAFO. I know I've seen some mixed opinions on the opening fight, but that fight at the end of ep 2 is exactly what I wanted, that was perfect. Him begging them to stop because he's trying not to do this, trying not to fight, he's afraid of what he'll do if it gets out, but the second that blood droplet hit the floor (LOVED that shot), you knew that was it, ding ding, Round One. I loved how vicious that fight was, I need to rewatch it 10 TIMES.

That final scream. What's that Matt? You're saying you're not fine? You're not handling this well? Whoever could have predicted that you mashing all that grief and rage down would come out like that, not me it was me though i predicted that.

Intrigued by that Punisher tattoo the dirty cop had on him.

OH MY GOD SHE'S THEIR MARITAL COUNSELOR, GOOD FUCKING LUUUUUCK

Man, Karen just fucking skedaddled and I'm wondering if this isn't because she's going to spiral out in CA like she does in the comics so she comes back having also gone through it (I realize it was because, in reality, they had to explain why she wasn't there because otherwise they'd have to rewrite and reshoot everything, but we're talking in universe here). Karen also has a tendency to run, much like she tries to do in S3. We know she'll be back though.

MY THOUGHTS OVERALL:

So.

(puts hands together and breathes because this was a lot and I'm still processing both the return of our man after 6 years and the show events themselves)

So.

So.

I'm obviously gutted over Foggy, I'll be crying over that for a bit even if I still have a lil hope, and am willing to just fix it in fanfic otherwise. But... I liked this. A lot. It's not exactly the Netflix show, which I'll always be nostalgic for, but quite frankly it was never going to be that show - too much time has passed, and batons have changed hands in terms of writing, directing, cinematography, etc. I'm ok with this being a little different. I'm ok with there being some small humps to get over, cause god knows S2 had its issues too (I love you, OG DD, but it's true). I'm really really optimistic about this.

I do think you can also see some slight tonal shifts between stuff that was salvaged from the original writing arc, and what Scardapane has added in during reshoots. And those moments Scardapane's got control are the best, even if I think they've done pretty damn good during the rest of it considering all the shakeups during production. I'm going to be very interested to see what happens in S2 where you've got a singular creator with consistent control, and I'm very excited for the final two episodes of S1 which are both all under Scardapane's hand. The best part is Matt is still Matt. The dialogue, what he's trying to do, even him pulling a, "that part of my life is over" is very him. His resistance to becoming DD again (though as my dad snorted when we were watching and Matt told Fisk that part of his life was over, 'HA! Horseshit.' Cue dad's smug 'HA! Told you.' During the ep 2 fight) feels... like a natural progression, and Charlie's playing it well.

MY THOUGHTS ON MATT, PLEASE STAND BY FOR ULTIMATE DISSECTION.

Oh boy. Oh boy. As predicted, our man is going through it and you can see it (God bless you Charlie, you're as wonderful an actor as ever). He's convinced, of course, that he's doing ok. He's holding down a good job, he's got a new apartment, he's managing to ignore the screams at night even if he has to drown it out with music and live up so high to try to muffle it, he's not laying in bed like a lump, he's not going out to fight, whatever you do, don't go out there, if I go I'll slip again. But this isn't a man who's ok. This is a man who's terrified and wracked with guilt because not only did his life as Daredevil (in his mind) lead to his best friend's death, but he broke his rule. He made the kill move, gave into his grief and his rage, and it was only through luck that Dex lived. It would only eat at him more that it was over Foggy, one of the people who regularly encouraged Matt to hold back from taking that final step. Matt knows Foggy wouldn't have wanted that for Matt.

He was warned that one day he'd kill someone. And he tried to do it.

Giving up Daredevil is what Foggy would have wanted. I have no doubt he's telling himself that.

But you can only cut away part of yourself for so long before it finds a way out. Matt will never be able to resist going to help those who need it. He'll never be able to fully turn away, and he enjoys those fights.

That's where that scream comes from at the end of Ep 2. He has done everything he's supposed to. He's given it all up, he's moved, he's focused on the law only, and he even fucking begged them to leave him be. He let them beat him and beat him and beat him, and still he didn't raise a hand.

Not until that gun came out.

And he snapped.

Everything done right, and still he finds his way here again, with blood on his fists and his adrenaline up and, I'm sure, no small bit of guilty enjoyment over suddenly being back in a fight that he won.

Our man is not ok, and I think he's going to realize that going forward.

This IS our man. There's some frayed edges here - there usually are in pilots, in shows that had this many production issues. But there is so, so much good here too to build on and I'm eager to see where Charlie and them take it even if it winds up crushing my heart a bit more in the process.

[elitadream]

Okay.

One more Bowser drawing and then I'll go right back to making Mareach fluff. Pinky promise. 😌💟

[arynnstjohn]

"No, but bet - I'm sure I've got a few simpler tomes I can lend you. If not, I'll jot you down some beginner's notes." Arynn offered. "Just be sure you have that lego set ready for me." He winked and laughed gently. Her question earned her a curious expression. "How does it feel?" He repeated and thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders some.

"I... don't really know how to explain it. Magic has been a part of my life for so long now that I don't really remember much of my life before it awakened in me." He explained. "I feel... connected. To people. To nature. To everything." He answered after thinking for a moment longer.

"My family - my mother's side of the family, the Bennett line - is comprised of several generations of very powerful witches. When I'm using magic, it almost feels like I'm connected to each of them. Even when I'm not directly channeling their ancestral power." He smiled at the thought. "Doing magic for others... I don't know, at first it was a way for me to more actively test what knowledge I learned from reading and stuff. Nowadays, I sometimes think it's more about just being able to share that gift with those that can't tap into it themselves."

"What an interesting way to live. Give me some of those books and I'll give you a sealed lego set." Nova said doing some corny finger guns. There was a smirk. "Silica Gel it is for this lovely flower." Nova said with a snort. Nova paused as she twirled the flower. "How does it feel?" Nova asked. "To do the magic?" She asked pointing the flower towards Arynn. "I want to know what makes me want to do it for money? Consider it feels so...." dangerous, choatic

[elizabeth-mitchells]

i love when characters i personally kind of hate are still interesting to think about and analyze. like that's the least you can do

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

ok literally all of these sound AMAZING and i want to hear about all of them, but i'm just going to limit myself to three:

🚂⌛🧑‍🧒

Ahhh thank you!

🚂 snippet that actually best explains the concept

It's after they've both worked two shifts and started their ninety-six that Tommy sits down at the kitchen island and slides a piece of paper over to Buck. He wipes his hands on the dish towel over his shoulder to get any lingering egg wash off and picks up the paper. It's a bullet-pointed list.

Terms and Conditions

We both hold veto power, before and during

Condoms

No drugs (us or them)

Not at home

No pictures, no video, no phones out period (ours are okay)

No uninvited guests

No kissing, no touching my neck or wrists, no restraining, no pulling my hair, no striking

No name-calling except by you

No reentry after they leave the space

Fucking only

Have to be able to see, touch, hear you

Buck’s lips twitch into a smile, and he nods. “Okay. I think we should also put some of this on a sign or something. Just in case.”

Tommy snorts and takes the list back when Buck holds it out. “‘Don't make me tap the sign’?”

“If it keeps you safe and happy, yeah,” Buck says, coming around the island to scratch his nails through Tommy's hair and kiss him. “Yeah, I'll make a sign. I'll bring one of those collapsible pointers. I'll do anything and everything to make sure no one makes you uncomfortable or hurts you.”

His boyfriend hugs him around his middle, his face going into Buck’s neck. “I love you.”

Buck smiles and kisses Tommy's hair. “I love you. And I'm really looking forward to seeing you strung out on dick. I opened my locker on my forehead yesterday because I got this flash of you all happy and hazy while some enormous guy is behind you just going to town.”

Tommy burrows closer to Buck and laughs. “Shut up.”

“I'm not joking. I'm really not joking,” Buck says, rubbing his back.

⌛ snippet that does not reflect my feelings on what happened in 8x11, but I think Buck might blame himself more than he should

He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up again and said the wrong things again without telling Tommy how he really felt again. It's like his brain is broken, and he hates himself for it.

Buck wraps his arms around himself and bends forward, knees bending almost in a crouch, and he sobs. He wants Tommy, wants to hear his voice and see his smile and feel his hands and his arms. He wants to go back and fix this, he wants it more than anything. He wishes that just once, he could fix something he'd broken.

When he collapses in bed, he pulls the other pillow to his chest and breathes in the phantom smell of Tommy's shampoo and cologne and deodorant and sweat until he falls asleep.

–

He wakes up, realizes it's too bright, that he's overslept, and he shoots to his feet. Except his foot catches on something and he almost slips and falls on his ass. Bending down, he frowns when he picks up his jeans. Except he'd thrown his jeans in the corner since he didn't know what happened to his laundry hamper.

“What the hell?” he mutters, tossing them away.

When he steps through the bedroom doorway, he smells bacon. And when he keeps walking toward his kitchen, worrying he's in another coma dream or having a neurological episode, he hears the sound of the freezer closing and sees Tommy step back.

“Hi,” Tommy says, smiling at him. Smiling like nothing’s wrong, like Buck hadn't dropped a grenade on their chances of getting back together, like the entire previous day hadn't happened. Smiling in the same clothes he'd been wearing.

“I-I thought you had a shift,” Buck says, and Tommy looks at him funny.

“Not until tomorrow,” he says. “Didn't want to leave without feeding you.”

And Tommy gently taps his stomach with the back of his hand before turning away, and Buck’s entire world shifts on its axis when he gets hit with an intense wave of deja vu. It's so bad that he worries, once again, that he's having a neurological episode. It intensifies when he sees the spread of food—the same spread of food.

🧑‍🧒

Okay so late in high school Bobby slept with a girl he was friends with and then her family moved her out to California to live with her aunt a few months later. His mom either meets Tommy's dad and passes the baby off as his or he agrees to be the father. In this, I have his father as more of a homophobic hardass than outright physically abusive or anything. In early 2002 when Tommy would be about 18, his mom dies (likely of cancer) and he's going through her stuff and he finds something that makes him argue with his dad, his dad reveals he isn't Tommy's real father. Tommy asks his aunt who his real dad is and she gives him Bobby's name. He tracks him down to Minnesota but it's really awkward and Bobby shows him a letter his mom wrote the year before when she got sick and says he was going to come look for him. Tommy's already enlisted in post 9/11 fervor and waiting to go to basic and then ship out, they promise to keep in touch.

The timeline of the show simply does not make sense, so we're embracing this being my AU. Tommy is in the Army for six years to learn to be a pilot and kind of keeps in touch with Bobby during that time. He still goes back to LA to join the academy and goes to the 118, but he came out during the immediate DADT days thanks to his relationship with Bobby. After the fire, he goes back to Minnesota to get Bobby into rehab. Bobby gets out and asks to transfer to LA to be near his only surviving kid, they find out about the opening at the 118 when the latest captain is leaving. Tommy's transfer to Harbor goes through. Hen and Chimney maybe have a weird feeling about Tommy and Bobby after they see how they interact at first and then they see them hug for like...a long time. And they'll think they need to make sure Tommy isn't being taken advantage of by the new captain and he just goes GOD NO that's my dad. Not long after, Buck joins. They would meet when Bobby relapses, they become friends, they start dating in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake. There's more in there but this is the CORE CONCEPT and setup.