#to send his men before him so he could make a quick escape when things inevitably went wrong

[smilerri]

people really have the audacity to claim odysseus isnt the most unlikable character in the entire odyssey?? when his whole personality is being a lying bitch?? yeah its funny sometimes but he still sucks

[sanjifucker42069]

Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Sanji x Reader

Word count: 854

We gender-neutral and short af today boys. This is crack treated semi-seriously lmao, and an actual drabble. I love idiot!readers, there isn't enough rep for us dumbasses. This is written with OPLA!Sanji in mind bc I dig the super effective suave vibe

Suggestive, there's swearing, the word cock is used once. Brief description. (Ha! Brief!)

Let's be real...Sanji might wears shirt stays....and that's hot as fuck

It was midday when you found yourself outside the men's quarters. You had been lounging around on the upper deck when Usopp had asked you to grab a wrench he'd left in his room. Fair enough, you weren't doing anything, wouldn't hurt to help. And so you padded off, making your way to the bedroom. It was the middle of the day, no one should be in there. You'd passed Zoro napping against some bags, you could still hear Luffy. Sanji definitely had to be in his domain of the kitchen. Still, you offered a quick courteous knock as you flung open the door to the men's quarters, wandering into the space with no preamble.

"Sorry boys, I gotta grab Usopp's- Holy shit!"

Sanji's head shot up to stare at you, cheeks lightly pink. He was stooped over, pants pooling at his knees. Sure, his thick thighs were enticing, and his position stuck that gorgeous ass out at a delicious angle, but your eyes were fixated on the crossing fabric that adorned his upper legs. Was that…a garter belt? You felt lightheaded at the view before you. He looked delectable. The cook quirked an eyebrow at your staring.

"See something you like, love?" He drawled, sending you a cocky grin. Sanji felt his ego swell when you tripped over your words. Had you actually paid attention, you'd notice how his usual clothes were covered in flour, but you weren't exactly the most perceptive.

"I…thighs." You spoke dumbly, causing you to mentally smack yourself. "I mean, sorry. I didn't think anyone would be in here at this time." 

With great hardship, you tore your eyes away from the garment. It looked like a garter belt, had to be! You always knew Sanji liked fashion, and that he could be a pervert, but you didn't expect him to be unembarrassed at being caught wearing lingerie. As if they were possessed, your eyes trailed their way back to his thighs. The elastic was biting into his thigh meat, bulk deliciously spilling over the edges. Saliva flooded your mouth. What you wouldn't give to touch them. To bite them. Fuck what if you-

Wait. 

Sanji had said something.

"Wha?" 

Nice going idiot.

Sanji had abandoned his grip on the trousers, gracefully dropping them and stepping out of the puddle of fabric. Your breath hitched as he turned to you.

Abort mission! 

Fuck you didn't even look at his underwear. Shit, fuck, that…that was clearly the outline of his cock, a pair of grey boxer briefs doing a horrible job at hiding his silhouette. You were thankful that the length of his dress shirt covered the majority, or you'd be due a visit to chopper from fainting.

"I said can I help you, love?"

An awkward cackle escaped your throat and you blushed. Oh, he could help you alright. Instead, you opened your dumb mouth again.

"Is that…why are you wearing a garter belt?"

Sanji froze. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

Oh shit! Oh fuck!

You opened your mouth to apologise when that bell-like laugh permeated the awkwardness. 

"What?" He laughed incredulously. "They are shirt stays."

Sanji felt his heart squeeze when you cocked your head confused. You really had no idea how cute you were, did you? Trying to be polite and stop laughing, he coughed into his fist.

"They keep my shirt tucked in sweet thing. Can't be looking unprofessional around you cuties." Sanji winked, smirking with satisfaction as your face grew redder. He expected an 'oh' or a 'sorry'. He certainly didn't expect a;

"I'd call having no pants but lingerie on unprofessional."

"You were the one who bust in here!" He argued. "And it's not lingerie!"

"Ah…sorry about that. I meant to grab a wrench Usopp left in here. I…uh…I should go."

"Mmhmm." 

You wandered stiffly to where Usopp slept, finding the tool with ease, and trying desperately to not look at the cook. Sanji watched you, amusement clear on his face at your robotic movements. Wasting no time, you rushed back to the door. 

"Oh, uh, Sanji?" The man hummed in response. "I, uh, I'm sorry for thinking you were wearing lingerie. Not! Not that there's anything wrong if you were, you'd look hot in it. I mean! I….uh…no, you'd definitely look hot in it. What was I saying?"

Silence. Sanji was staring at you with wide eyes, face now red from your comments. You clicked your fingers.

"Right, right! You should probably put some clothes on. Don't want you catching a cold ha ha." You forced out a robotic laugh. "Sorry again."

You slammed the door shut, leaving a confused and slightly aroused man in your wake. Sanji sighed, making his way back to his sleeping area to change into clean clothes. The door creaked back open. Sanji groaned quietly. Who now?

"You have to admit, they are kinda slutty though, right? Sorry! Bye again!"

You were gone before Sanji could even process your words properly. He groaned audibly this time, raking his hands down his face. He needed a fucking smoke. You were going to be the death of him.

[irisintheafterglow]

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)

summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded

note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 

“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 

“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 

“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 

“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”

“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 

“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 

“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”

“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”

“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”

“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 

“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”

“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 

“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 

“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”

“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 

“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 

“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 

“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[firelilyfox]

Taking Advantage

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: fluff / angst / hurt reader / teasing

Words: 1.3k

you came home from battle injured & Paul wants to make sure you are alright

_____________________________

„That was awesome!“ 

The Fremen men and women were cheering in agreement as your group coming back to Sietch Tabr with the sunrise early in the morning. Every step you take, sends little painful impulses through your muscles. The whole night you were fighting against a Spice harvesting ship that belonged to the Harkonnen and although you made a bunch of them pay for their brutal regiment, you came back badly bruised. But you are doing your best to hide the pain your in in front of your friends. It would be even more embarrassing to see their faces covered in pity over you, when the mood is as good as it is right now. The Fremen had another win and kicked some Harkonnen asses. That’s all that counts right now. 

„I’m a little drained. Go on and have a drink for me, while I’ll be having a good rest“, you said to your best friend Chani, who is giving you a suspicious look but then nodded. 

„You did good today, y/n. And I know for a fact, that Muad’Dib is thinking the same“, she wiggled with her eyebrows, mocking you again. Your eyes darted to the back of the tent, where Paul was sitting with Stilgar. He was already looking at you, not breaking the eye contact once yours met his. Paul was frowning a little, wich made his worried expression even more noticeable. Maybe Stilgar was telling him some bad news or something. You didn’t really care, because all you could think about was the pain that was feeling like needles beneath your skin. 

„I don’t care what he thinks. He fought well. And everything else is not important“, you murmured shrugging your hurting shoulders. Big mistake. Your almost flinched because of the pain that was send trough your body again. 

You quickly waved Chani goodbye and make your way outside the big community room, back to your private stone cabin, that was placed further away. When you finally reached it, a sigh of relief escaped your throat. Carefully you sit down on the bed out of soft fabric and you close your eyes for a second to calm your thoughts. Today was hard and nothing sounds more tempting than getting this suit off and washing the dirt off of your irritated skin. But the thought that you have to move yourself to make that happen, was like your personal nightmare. 

The sound of someone clearing his throat hollowed back from the stonewalls of your room. You quickly turn your head around to catch Paul standing in the doorframe, holding the curtain open. He looks even more worried now than back downstairs. 

„Can I come in?“, he asked. 

You let out a annoyed sigh. „Sure. What is it, Paul?“ 

He makes his way up to you, stopping not even two feet away from the bed you were still sitting on. „Are you alright?“ 

„Obviously. Today was a big win.“ 

He frowned again. „That’s not what I meant.“ 

„Then what are you talking about? Speak up.“ Your tone was annoyed, because the last thing you wanted right now was him seeing you in this pathetic state. 

„You fought like a demon out there. I have never seen someone so … so passionately killing the bad guys. But … I saw you falling down that cliff. For a second I thought you were dead“, he swallowed hard. „I saw you getting hurt. You must be in enormous pain right now.“ 

The fact that he had an eye on you while being on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, made your chest tightened up. He was really looking out for me? 

You tried to sound unimpressed. „Well, thank you for your concern but I’m perfectly fine as you can see.“ You stood up and wanted to make him leave your room, but the sharp pain came back like a lighting bolt and you tripped over your own feet. Paul had quick reflexes and catching you before you could hit the ground. „I’m fine“, your voice cracks and burning shame blushed your cheeks. 

„No you are not fine, y/n. You need help“, Paul whispered. His arms still wrapped around your waist to hold you up. His eyes right in front of you. So blue you could probably drown in them … although there were little brown spots you never noticed before. 

You swallowed. „I don’t need …“ 

„Oh for fucks sake! Shut up and let me help you“, he demanded. You were so surprised about his little outburst, that you could only nod to give him the permission. 

Paul smiled slightly. „Good. You are so stubborn.“ 

You rolled your eyes on him, not saying anything. He was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. 

With his help, you turned your back to him. He begins to get rid of the many closures of the suit and with every unbuttoning your face feels even warmer. His direct presence was making you nervous and you were not sure how you feel about that effect he has on you. 

„You need to relax. Otherwise I could hurt you even more“, his voice was low and for a second you thought you heard a light crack in it. Is it possible that you have the same effect on him? 

„It is kinda hard to relax in this … situation“, the words slipped out before you could think about the meaning of them. You bite your tongue as he chuckled softly. 

„And why is that?“, you could feel his warm breath on your neck. It sends goosebumps over your drained body. Before you could give him a sassy answer, his fingertips touched the bare skin on your shoulders, gently pulling down the suit. You could feel his hands on your back while Paul was making sure that you didn’t need to move a muscle to get rid of the Fremen desert suit. Underneath you are wearing an thin layer of fabric, cut in the form of a dress that barely covers your butt. 

„Are you taking advantage of an helpless and wounded woman, Paul Atreides?“, you say with a strangled voice. Still facing the wall. But Paul was so close, that you could feel his chest touching your back. 

Paul gently strokes your hair over one shoulder. His lips almost touching your ear, while he speaks with a breathy voice. „I would never take advantage of you. I know for a fact, that you could kick my ass and slit my throat in no time, even wounded and blinded. But you haven’t done such thing.“ 

He places a soft kiss on the sensitive skin right beneath your ear and your breathing stops. Your whole body reacting to him like a firework. Just because of a litte stupid kiss. What is happening? 

„Did I hurt you?“, he asked as he noticed your reaction. „If you want me to stop, you just have to say one word and I’m …“ 

„You didn’t hurt me“, you interrupted. 

Paul chuckles softly. And you almost hoped, that he would keep on doing where he stopped, but instead you feel how his warm body disappeared from your back. As you peak over your shoulder, he looks at you with deep satisfaction. 

„I’ll see if I can get you something to eat and drink. And then I will send you a healer to make sure you’ll get better in no time.“ 

Your mouth snapped open in disbelief. This jerk just teased you like a champion and now he was looking at you like a little boy, who is more than proud to make fun of you. 

„You’re an asshole, Paul Atreides“, you said smiling. 

He raises his hands defensively. „I’m just making sure not to take advantage of you.“ 

[eymie]

Hello! Can you write a Billy the Kid x fem reader smut where they're friends but she works at the brothel or something. He hates the fact that she works there and one night when she's moaning about how none of the guys know what they're doing, billy shows her that he knows exactly what he's doing? Maybe some cocky billy?

BETTER THAN THEM !

warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap it), grinding, choking (kinda but not really), prob more but im tired

You’d known Billy for a few years now, meeting as young teenagers. He had a few friends but you were his closest. His free time was spent with you, he watched other men fall at your feet. Begging for just an ounce more of your attention.

He hated when you got a job at the brothel in town, he could've found you a job or his mother could've. You had heard from a few girls in town that it's the easiest way to make quick money and you had jumped at the chance. Your family wasn't well off and you knew you needed this.

He heard men in the saloons talking about you. The wat you writhed under them, whining their names. He knew it was so you'd get a tip but he couldn't help but feel his body tense up. A few of those men leaving with bloody nose and black eye.

Billy couldn't escape the echoes of saloon gossip about your actions at the brothel. The visceral reactions of those men stirred conflicting emotions in him – a mix of discomfort, protectiveness, and an unsettling tension. His response, defending your honor with fists, became a silent testament to the depth of his feelings for you.

He knew he could please you better than any of those grimy men paying for your attention. He had your attention for free. Now here you were sitting in his room complaining to him about these men.

"Billy, they don't even feel good." You groaned, shoving your face into your hands. "At least the money is."

Billy's hands clenched into a fist as he tried to process your words. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"None of them have ever made me... you know." You admitted, looking down at your hands. You fidgeted with your hands, looking back up into his pale blue eyes.

His eyes bore into yours.

You continued, pacing around your room frustrated. "They're all so sloppy, and aggressive."

He swallowed hard, taking a step closer to you. "I can make you cum." His voice was low and husky, filled with desire and determination.

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

Billy held your gaze, his eyes burning with passion and conviction. "I can make you feeling things that none of them ever will."

"But Billy--"

"I'm the only one who knows how to touch you just right." His heart was racing as he took another step closer, their bodies almost touching now.

"Billy." You tried again, barely knowing what to say.

"I promise you won't regret it," he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers against your cheek. The touch was gentle but electric, sending shivers down his spine.

"We're friends." Best of friends, you didn't want to ruin it one bit. You didn't want to break the bond of the closest friend you've ever had, as bad as you needed him.

"We can be so much more than that," Billy replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in closer still, his lips mere inches from yours now. "Tell me you don't think about me."

"Wait." Your hands pressed against his chest but you didn't push him any further away. Your fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, almost pulling him in with intense urge.

Billy took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto yours. He could feel the heat rising between them as they stood there in silence. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer; he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You lips moved against his, tongues sliding against each other. You ignored any other concern invading your thoughts as you pulled him closer. His hands slid under your dress, nothing underneath.

"I didn't--"

He ignores you, hands finding the flesh of your ass. His hands groping at your ass, squeezing your flesh. You lips part against his, letting out a soft gasp. His hands so close to your shamefully wet folds.

"What pleases you?" His voice was a low whisper against your ear, wetness pooling in your undergarments. Your breath hitched as your mind raced trying to think of an honest answer.

You took a breath, then asked him. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you feel good, pleasures you." His lips brushed against your ear, hot breath fanning against your flushed skin. His hands traveled to your wetness, brushing his finger tips along it.

You hid your face in his neck, squinting your eyes shut as his fingers spread your folds apart, wetness coating his long fingers. Your chest heaved, your body begging to be released from it's clothed restraints.

"I-I don't know..." You stuttered, your was voice low and barely audible. You didn't know what pleased you, what you needed to feel good. His lips pressed against your neck, teeth grazing skin.

His words were hot against your skin, "How do they fuck you?”

In the intense moment, your astonishment mirrored in widened eyes as you gazed at him, his expression remaining stoic, a genuine sincerity cutting through the bluntness of his words. You slowly began to utter, “Billy I-“

He pulls his hand from underneath your skirt, pushing his long fingers into your mouth allowing you to taste yourself. Your tongue pressed along his fingers, your taste invading your taste buds.

HIs inquiry hung in the air, “It doesn’t matter, does it?” Yet, his fingers in your mouth rendered you speechless, creating a moment where words were stifled, leaving the question unanswered.

He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, unveiling a momentary pause that echoed.

His hands travelled to your corset. His fingers deftly worked at the laces of your corset, each gentle movement unveiling a layer of intimacy and revealing a vulnerability that seemed to heighten the intensity of your tension.

Your dress fell to the floor along with the rest of your clothing, undergarments including. His gaze bore into yours, cold air causing goosebumps to your skin, worse under his touch. You closed yours eyes as his hand slid back down between your thighs.

He slowly pushed you down against the bed, hands spreading your thighs. He ran his thumb down your slick folds, collecting your wetness on the tip of his fingers. A sharp breath coming from your parted lips as his rough thumb pressed into your sensitive clit.

"Do they touch you this way?" He asked, pressing your clit harder under his thumb. You shook your head, knowing they just paid to fuck you and not foreplay.

A sense of confidence surging through him, he couldn't help it knowing he was the one making you feel this way. Knowing not another man could make you feel like this one just his fingers.

His finger pressed past your folds, pushing through your gushing entrance. Your hips rose off the bed to meet his hand as he slipped a second finger inside you.

"Moaning on just my hand?" He teased, thrusting his fingers back inside you. You wetness coating his thick long fingers. Your mind raced, never feeling like this by just a mans hand before.

Soft moans leaving your part lips, thighs clenching around his hand. His fingers curled inside you, pressing into your g-spot. You let out a gasp, bucking your hips. His hands were relentless, thrusting his fingers back inside you faster than before driving you towards your orgasm. The wire inside you had tightened, begging to snap.

"Billy-- I'm gonna--" You whined, your hand grabbing his wrist in attempt to stop him. His free hand and pried yours away, pinning it to the bed beside you. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as his hands fucked you closer to your orgasm.

"Do it, cum on my fingers." He encouraged, continuing his thrusts until you writhed under his hands, crying out his name. He kissed along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone leaving purple blemishes. "I bet they don't have you whining like this, crying out my name like it's not just my hand."

His thumb continuously rubbed your clit, fingers curling inside of you. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, your body sensitive with overstimulation. He felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he could brink you over the edge with just his fingers. He couldn't just stop there.

His fingers were relentless, the way they continuously thrust into you. Moans slipping from your lips, begging for him to slow down just for a second. Your whines falling to deaf ears. His teeth grazed your erect nipples, slowly running his tongue around them.

"Billy, oh--" You hips lift off the bed, his fingers thrusting inside you in attempt to draw out another orgasm. His hands pressed against the fat of your breasts, groping them as he sucks your nipples into his mouth. "Gonna--"

His other hand helps you arch your back off the bed, hips grinding into his hand as you juices coat his fingers. Your jaw going slack as he takes you through yet another orgasm, slowly pulling his fingers from your slick.

"None of those men could make you cum?" He asks again, spreading your thighs apart. You shake your head in response, leaning back on your elbows. You watch as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, groaning at your taste in response.

"Not one of them, Billy." He pulls his fingers from his mouth, wiping his saliva off on his pants. Your legs clench shut watch his fingers slowly unbutton his pants, sliding down his zipper.

"What a shame."

Your lips part as you watch him pull down his pants, an evident bulge in his underwear. Your felt your cunt clench around nothing, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt revealing his chest.

His strong hands turned you over onto your stomach, helping you up onto your hands and knees. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your wet cunt, hips slowly grinding into your cunt.

"Do you want it?" He asked, thumbs rubbing at your flesh. Your slick soaked through his thin fabric, bulge pressing harder into your wet cunt.

You nod, pushing your hips back to try and get more friction. You whine at the way his bulge presses harder against you, fabric rubbing against your sensitive nub.

“Say it.”

“Yes, I want it.” You begged, overstimulated and out of breath. Your hands clench into the sheets wishing he'd just fuck you.

”Will you quit?” His voice was stern, yet you knew he had no sense of anger. He was needy, he needed you and needed to prove himself. He needed to convince you that he was more than anyone else, more than any amount of money.

“What?” You asked, voice cracking. You turned your head back trying to catch a sight of him. He leaned back, hands still holding your hips against him.

“If I can prove I’m better, then you quit.”

“But—“

He was quick to cut you off, “You don’t need that money, let me show you.”

You close your eyes, the sound of his hands pulling down his undergarments filling the silent room. Your fingers grip the sheets, preparing yourself for the stretch.

The tip of his cock pressed into her cunt, swearing her slick around. He slides his cock down to press against your clit making you jolt.

“Don’t tease—“

He cuts you off by pushing his tip past your folds. A moan leaving your lips, whining at the way his cock stretched you open. His large hands pulled your hips back as he slides himself inside you.

“Shh, taking me so well.” He praised, cock breaching as far as it can inside you. He watched as your pussy is spread wide, embracing his cock.

Small whimpers fell from your lips as he pulls back, thrusting back in. He promised himself he’d start off slow, he couldn’t.

“Billy—“ You whined, his thrusts were relentless. Constantly thrusting back in faster than before, unable to hold back your loud moans.

As much as he wanted to hear your noises, the walls were thin and you were loud. His large hand clasped over your mouth muffling your moans.

Your eyes rolled back, moaning into his hand as he brushed your cervix. His free hand slid to pinch your nipples and fondle your breasts. Your cunt stretched wide, insides bullied by his thrusts.

You cried his name but it was silenced by his hand. Your legs shook, holding up your weight as you were overtook by pleasure. His fingers slid from your breast to your clit, overstimulated and sensitive.

His finger pressed into your clit, eyes rolling back in return. Your walls closed around his length, a groan escaping his lips. The wire inside you once again tightening signaling your soon to come orgasm. Your arms giving out under you, your chest and face pressed into the cheap sheets.

His hand released your mouth, silent moans now all that came from it. His hand pressed down on your back, pulling your ass up into the air.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He felt the way your cunt clenched around, drool smearing into your pillow case. The loud sound of clapping skin filling the room, along with muffled moans and Billy’s held back groans.

One harsh thrust sending you into your impending orgasm. Mouth falling wide open as your cum coated his thick cock. His hands pulled your hips further onto his cock, hips grinding into yours as he pushes you through your orgasm.

“Billy— too much!” You whined, pushing your hand behind you against his abs trying to push him back. He grabbed your wrist, holding it tight before thrusting in quicker than before.

“No, not enough.” He argued, letting go of your wrist that fell back beside you without any fight.

He was holding back his own impending orgasm, hoping to fuck you into another one. His hand wraps around your neck, not too tightly but just enough force to pull you back. He pushed his face into his neck, teeth grazing your skin.

"Better?" He asked with a sense of cockiness in his tone. His tongue pressing over your deep purple marks decorating your skin. The way he thrusted into your made your head spin, his finger rubbing your sensitive clit making it worse.

"What--" You moaned, he was quick to cut you off again.

"Am I better?" Billy asked again, this time his tone more annoyed, annunciating his words. You knew what he meant, better than the other men at the brothel.

"Yes," You assured, placing your hand over his own that decorated your neck. Your nails pressed into his hands, scratching his skin as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"All of them?"

Your cunt squeezed him, his breathing got heavier as he neared his own high. The way your soft warm walls fluttered around his length, spasming as it neared your orgasm.

"Yes, all of them"

Your fourth orgasm ripped through you, your cunt clenching him like a vice. His name falling off your tongue, loudly being moaned into the room.

Your words came out in a jumble of words, stuttering mess. "Billy... please-- inside!"

His brows furrowed, already too late before he understood your begging pleas. He pulled his cock from your tight entrance, seed spilling from his red tip coating your plush skins. Your cunt was raw and used, clenching around nothing.

"Sorry," He mumbled, out of breath. He grabbed a nearby rag, wiping down your skin from his hot seed. Your body collapsed onto the bed, out of breath and tired.

"Billy?" You asked, turning onto your back. Your chest heaved, soft breaths leaving your parted lips. You felt his weight beside you on the bed, the mattress sinking down next to you.

"Yes?"

"I'll quit."

[rose24207]

The heir‘s weakness

Summary: there is only one person who can crack Lando’s shell infront of his men

Genre: Mafia!Lando AU, fluff

TW: Mafia, mentions of guns (I think)

A/N: Not really happy with it :( English is not my first language. I hope you like it though! Requests are open and welcomed!

Masterlist

Lando Norris was known for many things—his calm demeanor, his sharp mind, and his ability to strike fear into anyone who crossed him. As the heir to one of the most powerful mafia families in Europe, he had everything under control. His men respected him, his enemies feared him, and anyone who dared to stand in his way learned quickly that it was better to stay out of his sight.

But there was one person who had completely undone him. One person who made him lose his composure every single time. And that person was you.

You hadn’t planned on becoming involved with a man like Lando. Hell, you didn’t even know who he was when you first met. You had just moved to the city to escape a mundane life and had ended up working at a little coffee shop near one of the wealthiest parts of town. It was a chance encounter, a quick conversation, and then Lando was gone. But he came back the next day, and the next. And the next. Eventually, he became a regular, ordering the same black coffee every time, and giving you the same charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

At first, you thought he was just a guy with a lot of money and a bit of arrogance. But then, one day, when the cafe was dead quiet and you found yourselves alone, Lando had said something that made your blood run cold—“I’ll make sure you’re always taken care of, love. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

You had no idea what he meant at the time, but over the next few weeks, it became clear: Lando Norris wasn’t just some rich guy who liked his coffee. He was someone—someone dangerous.

His men were always around, in the shadows, looking at you with eyes that seemed to watch your every move. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away. There was something about Lando—the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel special, like you were the only one who mattered.

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was already obsessed with you. And no one, not even his loyal men, had any idea just how deep his feelings for you ran.

It all started on a cold Friday evening, when Lando invited you to one of his “business meetings,” which you quickly learned was his way of pulling you into his world. It was a private affair, held in one of his family’s most luxurious properties, and you couldn’t help but feel out of place in the sea of expensive suits and cold, calculating stares.

But when you entered the large room, filled with his men, Lando’s eyes locked onto yours. The corners of his lips twitched upward into that signature smile you’d come to know all too well.

“Ah, there she is,” he said loudly enough for the room to hear, his voice warm and inviting, though there was a darker undertone that sent a ripple through the group. “The most beautiful woman in the room, as always.”

The men, who were normally stoic and unwavering, exchanged confused glances, their eyes darting between you and Lando. They weren’t used to him acting so openly. His usual composed nature had always been something that earned their respect—and his control over his emotions was something they admired. But now… now they were seeing something entirely different.

You smiled awkwardly, but before you could respond, Lando was already making his way over to you, his tall frame cutting through the crowd effortlessly. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours lightly, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth through your chest.

“You look stunning tonight,” he whispered, leaning in just close enough for only you to hear.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and for once, you weren’t sure how to handle his attention. There was something about the way he said it, something in his eyes that made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

As Lando led you to a table in the far corner, all eyes in the room remained on the two of you. His men were no fools; they watched every movement, taking in the way Lando spoke to you with an affection that was foreign to them. They were used to seeing him in complete control—calm, collected, and untouchable. But now, with you by his side, everything had shifted.

Lando took a seat, and without asking, pulled the chair next to him out for you. “Please, sit,” he said, his voice low and almost possessive.

You hesitated for only a moment before you sat down, trying to steady your nerves. But then, something caught your attention: the men.

They weren’t looking at Lando the way they usually did. Normally, when they spoke to him, it was with a level of respect and reverence. But now? Now, they looked confused, almost flabbergasted. Some of them glanced at each other, muttering under their breath, while others stood with their mouths slightly agape. It was as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Lando was never like this. No one made him blush. No one made him lose his cool in front of his own men. But you? You had completely undone him.

One of the men, a towering figure with a scar across his face, leaned in to whisper to the person next to him. “Is he actually blushing?”

The man he was speaking to, clearly just as taken aback, gave a small shrug. “I’ve never seen him like this before. She must really mean something to him.”

Lando heard the whispers but chose not to address them. He couldn’t bring himself to break eye contact with you. You were everything he wanted, everything he’d been silently watching from afar for so long. And now that you were in his world—his real world—nothing, no one, was going to tear you away from him.

The meeting carried on, but you could tell that it wasn’t the same for Lando. Every so often, he would glance your way, his gaze softening when he saw the way you fidgeted nervously in the chair, trying to fit in with a world you never asked for.

And then, in the middle of the meeting, something happened that no one could have anticipated.

Lando, completely uncharacteristically, reached out and gently placed his hand on yours. It wasn’t an act of power. It wasn’t to assert dominance over the room. No, this was something else entirely.

His hand rested on yours for just a moment, and you could see the way his fingers tightened around your skin, his lips curving into a subtle smile.

“You’re safe here,” he whispered to you, just loud enough for you to hear, but the men in the room were still looking on, stunned.

One of them, a grizzled veteran with years of experience, cleared his throat and muttered, “This is different.”

Lando’s men were beginning to understand: You weren’t just another fling. You were his. And that realization hit them all like a ton of bricks.

But for you, the evening had only just begun. You were still trying to process what was happening, still unsure of just how deeply you had gotten tangled in the web that was Lando’s world.

But there was one thing you did know: You were under his protection. And when it came to Lando Norris, that meant you were untouchable.

The men may have been shocked by the way he looked at you, but Lando’s feelings were crystal clear. He didn’t care what they thought. You had completely captivated him, and for the first time in his life, he was willing to let them see it.

And no one—no one—was going to take you away from him.

Thank you for reading!

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 1 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 2.6k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Y/N stepped off the transport bus, eyes squinting against the harsh midday sun. Her eyes scanned the area in front of her. Up, down, left, right and then finally straight ahead. In front of her was the largest prison she had ever come across with in her life. However, she knew one thing which Sebastian warned her about…no one got out of Fox River.

            She glanced up at the towering gates of Fox River Penitentiary – a fortress of steel and stone that swallows hope whole. Taking a deep breath, she glanced down to her cuffed hands and feet before glancing to the guards around her.

            Calculating…she was calculating everything around her.

            She could hear the shouting of prisoners echo faintly from inside, a sharp reminder of what lies ahead. However, as much as she could get over going to prison…she did go to summer camp growing up and both were so similar in her opinion. It was the fact that the judge ruled to send her to a male prison due to her crimes.

            Fucking Sebastian… There was one thing she knew for certain, and it was she was going to get her revenge on him.

            Him and his lack of loyalty to her because she was a woman even though she showed her loyalty since the age of fifteen when she used to run drugs at school for him. Now, he needed to get the Feds off his trail and dropped her name. As well, as an argument.

            Charged with six murders, all first degree and even if she did do it…they deserved it. It was a secret she was going to bring it to the grave – even if she did not do it. She would never tell anyone that the knife that slit the throats of those six men was her. She was loyal to Sebastian and his organisation – had been since fifteen.

            A officer stood by the entrances, arms crossed, is face twisted into a smirk. His beady eyes scanned over her figure which was not much as she was wearing a male prison suit. However, still a shiver ran through her.

            Y/N’s eyes darted from his twisted face to the tag on his uniform – Bellick. Noted, a pervert.

            “Welcome to your new home, sweetheart. You’ll learn real quick that this ain’t no country club. A woman in a men’s prison…can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

            Y/N doesn’t respond. She holds her chin high, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes.

            “Not my first rodeo being stuck with a bunch of boys, Officer Bellick,” she responded. “There’s a science to it.”

            “Smart, witty. I read your file, Y/L/N. Did you seduce them before you slit their throat?” he remarked.

            Y/N’s smirk fell, glancing down to the floor then retorting, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

            “Cockiness is going to get you no where.”

            Behind her stood two guards that pushed her forward and through the heavy iron doors. Once inside, Y/N noticed instantly how the air was stifling, a mix of sweat, grime and despair. The clanging of cells doors slamming shut reverberates through the halls, each sound making her stomach knot a little tighter.

            ‘Do not be afraid,’ she kept telling herself. ‘You’re stronger than this.’

            Y/N kept her gaze straight ahead, her heart pounding in her chest as they lead her deeper into the belly of the prison. She came into the main holding area which was three floors of cells and instantly, eyes were on her.

            Inmates began to holler, whistle and remark her gender as she was a woman in a male prison. She was baffled at the fact she was here and probably they were too.

            ‘Stay strong.’

            It was all Sebastian’s fault. Every little thing was Sebastian fault, simply because she was loyal to him.

            Her eyes glanced down to the long-sleeved shirt and dark pants that did not fit her well enough but made do. However, as her eyes focused on the men around her, she could not help but know that every man in her was a criminal.

            And now she was too.

            The guards behind her were talking and she chose to tune it out, but she could not help but listen in when they said, “She won’t last a week.”

            Bellick came around and stood in front of her. “This is your cell. You’re part of gen pop even though your crimes should send you to ad-seg. Don’t go thinkin’ you’re special ‘cause you’re new, a woman or known as one of world’s deadliest assassins. You’re caught, you’re here, therefore you follow my orders. Rules here are simply: stay in line, keep your mouth shut, and do what you’re told. Got it?”

            Y/N nodded. “Yes, boss,” she stated.

            “Your lawyer did well with arguing you to get your own cell in the name of you being a woman and the several outcomes that lead from that. However, you will join the rest of the men in here for everything.”

            She nodded, though her mind was racing. She needed to stay focused, to keep her wits about her if she was going to survive this place. Additionally, she needed to figure out how everything worked if she was going to survive. Everything has a solution, an equation and a situation.

            Every cell was identical. However, hers seemed extra cramped, even though it looked like every other. The steel doors slides open with a loud screech before she was uncuffed and thrown in.

            “Cell 39. Home sweet home. Get in,” Bellick said.

            Y/N stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as the bars slammed shut behind her with a finality that sends a chill down her spine. The space is claustrophobic – bare walls, a narrow bed, and a toilet in the corner. It was completely different to her penthouse in New York City where she called home since twenty-one.

            She stood in the centre of the cell, eyes scanning every corner. This was it. This was Fox River…her new reality.

            “Hope you enjoy the view. Yards’s in an hour. Try not to piss anyone off before or during then.”

            Y/N simply nodded, mumbled her reply and watched how Bellick and the guards turned and left her standing there, alone. The sound of their footsteps fading as they disapper down the hall. Y/N slowly lowered herself onto the bed, the thin mattress not giving her justice as the weight of prison settling in.

            She was here until Sebastian could get her out. She had faith because she knew, being in a men’s prison for twenty-five years was not in her cards. She pissed Sebastian off and he threw her in jail.

            Her own husband threw her in jail because he cared about the mob over her. Even if she did or did not kill those men.

            Y/N sits on the edge of her bed, trying to remain clam despite the lingering stares from the other inmates. It’s clear that being a woman in a men’s prison makes her an immediate target. The guards may have brought her to her cell, but she was on her own now.

            There would be a hierarchy and naturally it would turn into a patriarchy unless she made this place her bitch.

-

The clanging of metal doors echos through the hallways as a guard stood in front of her doors.

            “Yard time. Try not to get yourself killed,” he said. The guard gave her a half-hearted smirk, but Y/N ignored it, rolling her shoulders back and stepping out. She won’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing fear on her face.

            The alarm went off and her door opened. She watched as inmates walked by and Y/N followed at the tail end. As they followed down the corridor, the murmurs and hollering started. Whispers growing louder, snickers turning into open taunts.

            A inmate in front of her turned around, spotting her following behind him. “Well, well, well…what do we have here? Fox River’s new toy?”

            She rolled her eyes.

            “Watch where you’re going or you might trip,” she responded.

            “Oh, she has a mouth. I know better ways-“

            “Mind your damn business,” Y/N barked. “I am not here to make enemies, lovers or friends. Now move on.”

            The guards around her barely react, only nudging her forward. The inmate’s voices swell as they approached the yard doors.

            “Bet she won’t last a day in here,” she heard from beside her.

            “I call dibs,” another one said.

            Y/N simply rolled her eyes.

            The door opens and Y/N stepped out into the yard. It’s crowded with inmates milling about in groups, playing basketball, lifting weights or just lounging around – until they see her. The air seems to shift, every eye on her.

            She scanned the crowd and shook her head, heading to the benches in the corner. As she walked across the open space with her head held high, her footsteps slow and deliberate, refusing to speed up. Y/N scans the yard, already calculating escape routes in her mind if something does go wrong.

            Where was the nearest exit?

            Her eyes circled until she found it. However, the murmurs grow louder, more aggressive.

            As she walked by inmates, she heard remarks. “Hey, sweetheart, you missin’ your girly magazines? Getting your hair done?”

            Y/N’s lip twitched, her fists clenching slightly, but she kept walking. No need to waste words on them.

            When she made it to the bleachers, a man appeared in front of her, blocking her with his greasy smirk, arms out wide like he’s welcoming her. The tension snaps tighter. Everything about him screamed disgusting or even perverted. He was skinny and almost malnourished and then he smirked, and a shiver went through her.

            “Look what we got here…Fox River’s newest little plaything all ready for someone to play with. Must be my lucky day.”

            His words hang in the air like poison. She rose a brow, stopped herself from saying a remark and then locked her gaze on this man, who was unflinching. Her eyes were cold, assessing. She could not afford to show weakness, but she knew exactly what to say.

            “Funny, I didn’t take you for the type to run is mouth without backup. I guess I was wrong.”

            The yard falls into a tense silence, a ripple of surprise at her response. The man’s smirk falters for a second before returning with even more malice.

            “Oh, sweetheart, you’ll find out soon enough. Ain’t nobody here to help you. Not like the women’s wing where it’s all about girl power, is it? You’re the prey here and we are the predators. Now,” he came closer, “you’re a pretty thing and someone like you needs protection in a place like this. T-Bag is the name-“

            “I think I will be quite alright,” Y/N said, getting up from the bleachers but he cut her off.

            “Girl, you’re on my side of town and I do not take no as a answer.”

            “Obviously then you’re a rapist,” she whispered to herself.

            However, he heard that. “What was that, girl?” he said lowly. “Speak louder and to my face or don’t speak at all.”

            Suddenly, a figure stepped out of the crowd that was beginning. He moved quietly but with purpose, standing in front of T-Bag, his back to Y/N.

            “Walk away, T-Bag,” he said lowly.

            T-Bag sneered, but there was something in this man’s eyes when he turned around to look at Y/N with a solemn look. He had kind eyes, she recognised, which was rare in this world, let alone in a prison.

            “Now go,” the man said.

            “Fine,” T-Bag stated with passion, “but we’ll see how long she lasts on her own. This is not a place where you fly solo especially if you’re a woman.”

            As T-Bag disappears into the crowd, the man with the buzzed head and sharp features turned to Y/N, his expression calm but concerned.

            “You ok?” he asked walking over to her and sitting next to her.

            Y/N pushed herself away from him. “I don’t need rescuing.”

            His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the intensity in her voice. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

            “I wasn’t trying to-“

            “-I can handle myself.” Her tone was firm, but there was something in her eyes – a flicker of vulnerability she can not quite hide. She was strong, yes, but she was also exhausted. The constant weight of being in a place where she was always the target is heavier than she lets on.

            This man does not push, he just nods.

            “I know. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back.”

            “The last time I had someone looking out for me, they made sure I got in here,” she quipped. Their eyes met, the distance between them a half metre, but enough to hear one another. She studied him like she was trying to figure him out. There’s no threat in his eyes, no ulterior motive, Just quiet understanding.

            “Betrayal hurts especially from someone you love,” he responded.

            “What do you want from me? Mock me, a conversation with me?”

            He shook his head, leaning in slightly, his voice low so only she could hear. “Nothing. Just…be careful. This place has a way of testing you in ways you don’t expect.”

            For the first time. Y/N’s anger softened, just a fraction. There’s something about him – calculated, calm, but with an undercurrent of sincerity that makes her feel…safer than she had since she arrived.

            “Y/N,” she said, putting her hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

            His smile came up lightly as he took her hand. “Michael Scofield.”

            She nodded, not saying anything at first, but simply processing.

            “Michael, I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she told him. Michael tilted his head, offering a small smile, more an acknowledgment than anything else.

            “I believe you.”

            Y/N glanced at him, surprised by his response. Most men would’ve pushed, tried to prove their strength or dominance. But not him.

            Y/N had studied men for the longest time. She knew how they acted, moved, whispered, purred and what motivated them. They were predictable and easy to read, but him…this man in front her. He was not open book rather he was a locked library.

            She exhales slowly, feeling the weight of prison and its dangers pressing in on her again.

            “Thanks,” she whispered, then glancing up from looking at her feet, “for stepping in. But next time, don’t. I don’t need a man to fight my battles when I am completely able to fight my own.”

            Michael nodded, his expression respectful, as if he was already learned to read her boundaries.

            “Understood.”

            Y/N finally cracked the tiniest of smiles, something she had not done in days. “You’re different, aren’t you?’

            Michael just shrugs, his eyes full of quiet understanding. “Just trying to survive. Same as you.”

            Y/N nodded. “Then can I propose we survive this together then? Because you Michael Scofield…are a different type of man and I know men quite well.”

            He nodded. “Deal.”

-

I hope you enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this.

Let me know your thoughts, opinions and comments! :)

Lots of love,

Ava <3

-

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars

[oleanderscorner]

Fallen Sapphire Tears (Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine)

My last little post got me thinking…who else would share?

Then I decided I can force people to share for the fun of it! I figured it’d be interesting to see the striking balance between Sunday and Aventurine—both so vastly different characters, and figured out they’d fit one soul quite nicely—so, enjoy!

Spoilers for the new 2.2 quest up ahead and general yandere content trigger warnings! Oh and pregnancy allusions.

Aventurine and Sunday would both enjoy a justice-oriented darling—not just any justice either, but lawful and distinct justice, the kind casts away nuance in favor of the black and white stance and hope.

Aventurine obviously notices you first in this sweet dream and wishes to indulge you in a wager—it only gets him more antsy when you decline on principle, a wager so large means either he’s an addict, or can surely win, right? So what point would there be in playing…

He stands still in that answer—certainly not the first time he’s heard a no or been called an addict but it’s the first he’s been called an addict while saying no. In your eyes, too, it seems like you vaguely care about the former. He laughs it off then.

But continues to think heavily.

When you come back—it only intrigues him more.

Too bad he has to take a quick curtain call.

Sunday met you after, much later once you and Aventurine become close acquaintances almost friends. He notices your looks first—beauty to him, not in how orderly you look per se but…in how your clothes all fit a distinct role and place, how the style of your hair even if not particularly styled balances out this order of roles. Even disheveled homeless men have a certain look to them determined by the roles of their clothes—and you encompass that to him.

It kept his eye on you enough so that when you chose your answers…when you spoke of justice behind your choice in every section. To save a bird is just, to let the law catch a man willing to send his own children whom we don’t even know exist, and to support his dear sister despite him not..it all was quite eye opening to him on the justice his order needed.

He wouldn’t kidnap you immediately only because he would take great care in making your cage—only to then find Aventurine having found you and offering you to leave this place.

They should have killed eachother right then and there—but somehow, a word became a conversation and they came to an agreement.

Of course, they would keep you in the cage together—Aventurine could find and exploit every weakness in the cage crafted to before you had the chance to, and hide information about you from anyone else who would ask. Sunday keeps the cage crafted and gives instruction as needed. Even if it means a bitter false defeat to keep a hidden you.

Aventurine spends most days with you—when he isn’t working you two play games, even if you don’t want to he still tries to play with you, and he often orders take out—can even do a little cooking if you ask. He’s almost moldable—doing as you ask as long as it isn’t escaping related or not keeping an eye on you.

Sunday spends nights with you—sometimes there’s idle chatter with a dinner or late night snack and conversation of the world—but oftentimes it’s silent cuddling as he holds you. Perhaps even Aventurine too if that’s what it took to hold you.

Everything quickly becomes boring and mundane with them—and they know how to keep it that way.

You have a list of small chores while housekeeping does the rest, which is a light dust in some areas and tidying up basic things. It’s so domestic that it almost feels like you’re a rich housewife without a care to actually clean…

Funnily enough, being the last of a kind is gettting to Aventurine and of course Sunday is rather…family-oriented.

Perhaps it is time for another discussion.

AN: Ik it’s short and scattered but I’m thinking of writing like an actual fic for this one so it’s going to stay like this for now.

[ineylesian]

hey sable babe! for your event can i just request a lil blurb with simon? maybe getting back from a mission and cleaning his eye makeup off? just some fluff with him <33

LINGER

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X READER

— AO3 | MASTERLIST | SPRING 2023 EVENT

— WORD COUNT | 1.2k

— WARNINGS | petnames (lovie, dove), kinda ooc ghost?

— SUMMARY | you’re always looking out for ghost, even in the little things.

— AUTHOR’S NOTE | okay this is a lil ooc but it’s the best i can do on a drabble, trying to keep it short and sweet <3

It’s been 16 hours and 3 refills since you took off.

An elongated sigh pushes through Price’s mouth as the pilot announces you’re about to land, lightly coating over the static bicker of Soap and Gaz over what type of crackers are the best. They cease only at the shrill whistle of his fingers, mildly annoyed glances molding to excitement when they see the ground.

“Back to the motherland.” Soap manages through a stretch, earning numerous questionable gazes from those around him. “What’a you say about hitting the bar?”

Cheers follow, and your eyes shut at the uproar that starts the moment the aircraft touches the ground. You flatten yourself against the wall as soldiers pass, berating your ears with plans of what bar to go to as they walk.

When your feet finally do meet the soil, Soap is already coming your way, expectant gaze joined with a bright smile. Price manages to still a hand on your shoulder before he can reach it, and you silently inhale in relief.

“Comin’ along, lass?” He questions, head nodding toward the mass of your squadron heading for the streets. “Looks like you could use a drink or two.”

“Bloody Hell. Get lost, Johnny.”

A second presence settles at your side, and you can already sense the annoyance radiating off of him. Ghost holds a squint to Soap, glancing to you after a round of silence passes.

“Yeah, uh, John.. I think I’ll stay in tonight.” You smile, lightly patting the hand Price slipped off your shoulder. “Captain will keep you company, yeah?”

Price sighs once more, waving Soap off with a flick of his finger.

“You know the hotel we’ll be checking in at?”

Ghost nods, and you follow suite. Your luggage sits encased between his arms and chest, with a tiny bag of his own strung over his back.

“Right, then I’ll see you two later.” Price turns around, steps dragging as he takes off after his men. “If I’m even alive by then.”

He waves, and soon enough, the two of you are the only that remain on the airstrip. Silence encompasses your ride to the hotel, with your taxi driver holding a near bewildered gaze at the sight of Ghost. You’re even forced to send him up to your room to stop the hotel workers from shivering while checking in.

It’s still quiet when you unlock the door. The sight of relief that escapes you is smothered by his presence, and you decide to leave him be, offering a light squeeze to his arm as you take your things. He ducks down while you string his own bag from your fingers, mask lifting up to peck you on the cheek.

“Cheers, lovie.”

You smile, stealing a quick graze of his lips before he can pull it back down.

“I’ll get some towels from the lobby.”

Once the bags are set, you head out. To your dismay, one of the same workers that helped check you in earlier is in the area, and they greet you with a rather particular smile that has you nearly running back to your room. The shower is off once you return, so you slip one of the towels in your stack through the door.

Just as you start to unpack, a string of curses falls privy to your ears. Worry settles in your gut, and you quickly make your way back to the bathroom, only to gape at the sight before you.

Ghost stands in front of the mirror, fully dressed. However, the towel you had given him less than a minute ago is stained black, as is his skin. Dark, watery streaks leak from his eyes, dragged down to his collarbone likely from putting on his shirt. He sighs before setting the sodden towel down, glancing at you through the mirror’s reflection.

“Rubbish.” He scowls, running a hand through his hair. “Ran out of wipes.”

Wipes?

You nearly gasp, leaving Ghost and returning within a matter of seconds. He turns toward you at the sound of the bathroom door closing, eyes widening as you hold a pack of makeup wipes against your chest.

“You mentioned how you hate scented ones, so I got the fragrance free kind.” You’re practically grinning now, fingers pointing to the label on the bottom of the package. “And they’re family size!”

He’s quiet. It feels like his breath is caught in his throat, wrapping around his tongue and choking him. Darkened eyes gaze at you, slightly wide with shock. Nearly at a loss for words, his mouth slowly parts, and he blinks.

There’s a warmth that pools in his chest, consuming all that he is. It’s unfamiliar, and he wants to be scared. But it’s you, and the reminder makes his fingers twitch.

“Lovie..”

“Ah ah-“ Your spare hand reaches out, poking his chest as your head cranes away from him. “You’re not kissing me until your face is clean.”

Ghost grumbles lightly at your objection, picking you up and set you on the counter. You set the wipes down, gently clasping your hands together. He’s nearly level height with you now, caked eyelashes darting from their hold on your gaze to the mirror once they’re caught.

You fold the first wipe in half, starting at the base of his collarbone. His skin is warm to the touch, holding the urge to dote on him tightly behind your teeth. That wipe, along with three others, are completely used by the time you reach his jawline.

“Halfway there.” You declare, tilting his chin with your fingers. “Okay so far?”

Ghost hums, bringing his hands up to your thighs to steady himself. He’s still, entirely compliant as you drag wipe after wipe against the filth, slowly unveiling the skin underneath. A sigh escapes him as you graze over his eyes, rebuilding the contrast set by umber irises. After a few more, you toss the last wipe in the trash, swiping your hands together with a nod.

“All done.”

He’s looking at you, eyes glazed over with a mix of longing and harrow. He can’t speak. He still can’t believe you’d paid so much attention.. watched him so closely— done something out of the kindness of your heart just for him.

Ghost is pulled from his thoughts at the brush of your fingers against his cheek, and his eyes come into focus. He feels your lips next, and you taste exactly like that lip balm you offered him when he was grumbling about his lips chapping.

And suddenly, he gets it. From this, to the time you offered to share a bunk with Soap so he could have space to himself. You’d always done so much, even when he was undeserving of your kindness. Just having you around seemed to be a gift from the heavens itself.

“I owe ya, Dove.” His voice is just above a whisper, fanning over your lips in warmth breaths. “Wish I could give you the world.”

He knew he could never truly pay you back, but he could damn well try.

“Stick around, Simon.” You manage between the latch of his lips, offering a smile that would linger in his mind until the his last breath. “That’s payback enough.”

[anna-hawk]

Running Hot

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Summary: After running into Frank while fighting the enemy of the night, Matt notices that something about Frank has changed. Something that would have Frank almost tearing one of the criminals apart with his bare hands had Matt not intervened. As Frank flees, Matt follows him to get to the bottom of the story. After everything that has happened around the world recently, he shouldn't be surprised about what he ends up discovering.

Rating: E 🔞 // WC: 11k

Tags and warnings: Werewolf!Frank, feral!Frank, very short self harm scene, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, heat, smut, everything is consensual, biting, soft ending

A/N: Please check out @rivlin8781's art created for the fic. It's everything 🧡

Also read it on AO3

Jumping over the roofs of Hell��s Kitchen, Matt followed the sounds of police car sirens and radio calls to a large pharmaceutical building. There had been a break in roughly twenty minutes ago, and the security guards had only had the time to call law enforcement before they were overtaken by the intruders. The closer Matt got to the building, the more he could pick up the noises of a fight; gunshots firing, people shouting. As he stepped onto the rooftop of that building, Matt took a moment to further establish what was going on, focusing on more details. Eight of the criminals were running upstairs now, shooting off range after range of shots as they shouted to each other about an escape. Ready to intercept them, Matt frowned as his hearing picked up a particular heart beat that belonged to a ninth person running upstairs, but was further below the others. It had a familiar tattoo to it, but it was unusually quick for a human. One thing was certain, however, whoever that was, the criminals were clearly running away from them. A second later, the door to the rooftop burst open, letting two men out at once, before they were followed by the others in quick succession. As soon as the door was open, Matt could make out several scents. There was a mix of pharmaceutical products, gunpowder, blood, and sweat, as well as the anger and fear coming from the men. They came to an abrupt halt as they noticed Daredevil standing in front of them. Before they could all reach for their weapons, Matt let his billy clubs fly through the air, hitting the two faster men in the side of the head with them when they aimed at him. As he ducked and rolled out of the other’s bullets’ paths while catching the billy clubs, Matt almost froze in his move as his nose got a whiff of the ninth person, which had him finally realizing who it was. 

Frank Castle came barreling out of the door like a bull at full speed, crashing into one of the men and sending him flying a few feet away with the force of the impact. Not winded in the slightest by running up several flights of stairs and knocking someone over, Frank turned to the closest guy and punched him in the side of the head, sending the man to the ground, before he aimed his gun at a third one. Fortunately for the man, he managed to avoid the bullet, but his maneuver sent him straight into Matt’s path, who hit him with a hard round quick to the face. As he went down for the count, Matt returned his attention to Frank. He threw one of his clubs into the line of fire of a bullet directed at the former Marine, deviating the trajectory and sending it into the thigh of one of their opponents instead. How could he not have recognized Frank instantly? They’d fought against or with each other so many times by now, that Frank’s heartbeat was now as familiar to Matt as the ones of the people closest to him. He always made Frank's heart beat out long before he was close enough to smell Frank. Not tonight, however. He’d recognized him by his scent, but it had taken for Frank to almost be on Matt to know it was him. There was something different about his scent as well. It had gotten… stronger. It was still most definitely Frank, but there was something else to it that Matt couldn't quite figure out. Something wilder, which said a lot, considering how Frank usually behaved in a fight. Something… animalistic. The notion was only highlighted as Frank growled and snarled as he viciously attacked or countered, swiping out with his fists and feet with a brutality that left bones and teeth broken in their wake. Frank’s form was easy to make out in between the men who weren’t already lying on the floor. His body temperature was unmistakably higher than normal, which made him more apparent to Matt’s senses than the others. Was Frank fighting with a fever? This wouldn’t surprise Matt, since neither of them stopped fighting even if they were almost ready to pass out. Taking out another criminal while also tripping the one Frank was going after with a billy club so Frank’s bullet wouldn’t be lethal, Matt almost thought that Frank hadn’t even noticed Matt’s presence. Clearly he’d been wrong, as Frank growled menacingly after Matt took the kill away from him.

“Keep outta my business, Red.” 

They usually engaged in some form of conversation while they fought; exchanging some jabs and banter. Mostly the same things, like Matt remarking on Frank’s latest killing spree, and Frank subsequently calling him the classical altar boy or the likes. It was all done in good spirit nowadays, which was why Frank’s aggressiveness towards him surprised Matt. Tonight, there was no humor, no jibes. Just ruthless silence coming from Frank. 

Matt’s train of thought was interrupted an instant later, as Frank slammed into him, making Matt believe for a split second that Frank was actually attacking him. That’s when he heard and felt the air whistle over his head as Frank got him out of the way of a round of shots. They rolled to the side, with Frank falling on top of Matt. Despite his suit, with how their bodies touched in several places, Matt could still feel just how much warmer Frank was running. He didn’t get the chance to reflect more upon it, since Frank was up and throwing himself at the one shooting Matt in the following second, running right into the line of fire but avoiding the bullets at the last second as he swerved to the side and ran the man over before landing a vicious hit to the temple. Meanwhile, Matt took the last man out quickly, sending him unconscious like the others, before he turned towards Frank as he heard the shriek of pure terror and pain coming from the man Frank was fighting with. Frank was standing at his full height and holding the other man up by the throat like he weighed nothing, his fingers uselessly scrabbling at Frank’s hand, until Frank pulled him down and put the criminal's back against his chest while keeping him in place with his hand still over the man’s throat. As Frank's fingers formed into a claw, Matt’s heart lurched in horror because he suddenly knew, without an ounce of a doubt, that Frank was about to rip the man’s throat out. 

“Frank, no!” Matt bellowed, throwing himself forward, although he knew that he was too far away to get there in time if Frank didn’t listen. 

Thankfully, Frank’s head snapped into Matt’s direction, like he was suddenly coming to his senses. With a snarl, Frank let go of the man’s throat and, to Matt’s shock, sank his teeth into his own forearm, ripping through the barrier of the shirt. Blood instantly began soaking the sleeve, before it started running down the length of Frank’s arm and dripped to the ground in thick droplets, permeating the air around them. Finally, Frank jumped away from the criminal, who crumpled to the floor in fear, while Frank landed on the edge of the roof in a crouching position. Before Matt could reach him, Frank was suddenly jumping off the roof and landing on the fire escape that was several feet below, hurrying away at a fast pace. Extremely fast pace. Matt frowned, bewildered. 

Gritting his teeth and stopping himself from going after Frank immediately, Matt turned around and knocked the whimpering man out cold. He made sure that everyone was still out, listening as the police, who had secured a perimeter around the building, were progressively making their way upstairs. Matt kept his senses focused on Frank all the while, before he finally began trailing him over the roofs of the city, the task made easy by the heavy scent of blood. 

It didn’t take him long to find Frank. The scent of blood had lessened, but Frank’s intense scent led Matt to an old apartment building. Carefully climbing down the flight of stairs that took him to the basement, he felt Frank’s presence in a storage room, the door surprisingly unlocked and ajar. Was Frank so out of it that he’d forgotten something as basic as locking a door? Matt could hear Frank’s heavy breathing and soft growls as he nudged the door slowly open and took in the room. It had been transformed into a safe house, with the necessities like a cot, a sink, and a dresser in it, along with cases of ammunition and other military paraphernalia. Matt’s attention drifted towards Frank as he greeted Matt with a low snarl from his huddled position on the cot. It was a clear warning. Matt stood in the doorway, head cocked to the side. 

“What happened to you, Frank?”

“Get the hell outta here,” Frank spat through his teeth. 

Breathing out softly, Matt did the exact opposite and walked into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. He noticed the way Frank shifted away even more into the corner of the little bed. However, Matt knew that it wasn’t out of concern for himself, but clearly out of concern for Matt with how Frank’s body seemed to almost vibrate with holding back from attacking. Matt stopped a few feet away from the cot. 

“Tell me what I can d-?”

“There’s nothin’ to do, Red. Just leave me alone,” Frank hissed, baring his teeth this time. 

Matt frowned and tightened his jaw in thought. Finally, he removed his helmet and placed it on one of the crates of weapons, feeling like actually talking face-to-face might help, while also showing that he wasn’t going anywhere. He propped himself against a crate and tilted his head back, letting his senses roll over Frank. 

“I said, get-”

“What happened to your arm?” Matt suddenly cut in, leaning his head back forward and tilting it curiously as he realized what had been bugging him since he’d stepped into the room. 

He’d felt Frank bite into his own arm on the rooftop earlier, had heard the tearing of the shirt and skin, smelled the blood as it poured over Frank’s skin and onto the ground. There was no trace of an injury now, however. Only drying blood on Frank’s skin and shirt. 

“The hell you talkin’ about?” Frank grunted shiftily, his breathing still quick. 

“You bit into your arm earlier. I know you did. I could taste your blood in the air there was so much of it. So explain to me why there’s no wound now?” Matt asked carefully, pitching his voice low. 

Frank froze at the question, and Matt heard him grinding his teeth together hard. He didn’t answer, however, trying to retreat more into the wall at his back, his fingers twitching in agitation. 

“Listen, Frank, I don’t know what’s going on, but I know someone at the hospital and-”

Matt was roughly cut off by a loud and harsh laugh that held no trace of humor in it.

“I ain’t hurt, Red. Said it yourself, didn’t ya. I-” he panted and stopped, clearly trying to keep his body under control. “Nothin’ a doctor or anyone can do.” 

Matt’s brain was working overtime as he attempted to figure out what had happened to Frank. He knew that the injury Frank had inflicted on himself had been serious, enough for a large row of stitches. Whatever Frank was going through wasn’t something normal, of that Matt was convinced. Although he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what was going on, Matt had witnessed enough things recently to know that something supernatural had to be at play. For one, how could the tear in Frank's skin have just gone? And for another, how could he be as inhumanly fast and strong as what he’d shown on the rooftop? 

Squaring his jaw, Matt took the last steps necessary to be in front of Frank, who growled, the sound so low it almost seemed like one of a large animal. Feral. It had every hair on Matt’s body standing on end. Matt didn’t back down, however. They might not always see eye to eye, but Matt cared and refused to leave Frank in this condition. He might hurt himself or someone else, and Matt couldn’t let that happen. He could almost hear his friends calling him out on his savior complex, but he was unable to turn his back on Frank. As he knew that Frank wouldn’t have left him either. The few times they’d teamed up, they’d protected each other. As they’d done tonight. Frank had jumped into action to push Matt out of harm’s way and nearly gotten hit by a bullet for it. 

Matt crouched down right in front of Frank, listening as his already quick heart beat sped up the closer Matt was coming, while letting out small, apprehensive growls. Heat emanated from his body, and like earlier, Matt wondered whether Frank had a fever. 

“Don’t,” Frank warned, uttering a whine this time, which surprised Matt as the other man dug his fingers into the bedding and ripped the sheets as Matt moved closer again.

At the back of his mind, Matt knew that he was treading uncharted and dangerous territory, but since when had that ever stopped him from doing anything? That, and Frank was clearly in some form of pain and reluctant to hurt Matt; otherwise he would have already been on Matt. 

“Just here to help,” he said softly, as if talking to a wild animal, which didn’t seem like that much of a stretch as far as comparisons went.

“Told you, you can’t,” Frank croaked, closing his eyes, the defeat in Frank’s tone making Matt’s gut clench as Frank’s breathing seemed to escalate.

“Frank,” Matt almost whispered, as he pulled off one of his gloves and tentatively stretched out that hand towards Frank’s neck, wanting to feel Frank’s temperature. 

As soon as his hand made contact with Frank’s burning skin, Frank’s eyes flew open and he pounced. Despite his quick reflexes, Matt wasn’t fast enough to pull away from Frank as the latter grabbed Matt’s wrist in an iron hold. In a flash, Frank twisted them around until he was on top of Matt, his thighs bracketing Matt’s hips. Winded and dazed by the rapidity of Frank’s movements as well as by his strength, which had already been considerable before, Matt was about to block any attack coming towards him and retaliate, when Frank stilled for a short second before he suddenly pressed his whole face against Matt’s neck. Matt froze, his balled fists stopping in midair as Frank lay his whole body on top of Matt’s and breathed in deeply. As the initial shock abated, Matt held perfectly still while Frank… While Frank sniffed at him? Frank was running his nose along Matt’s throat and shoulder with little growls and sighs, his body still tense, but the tension felt different now. His heartbeat had gone down a notch, as had the aggressiveness in his movements. After some seconds, Matt hesitantly placed his bare palm over Frank’s nape. Frank stiffened briefly, before his body turned lax and almost melted into Matt’s touch. Surprised, Matt left it there for a minute, until he pulled off the other glove with his teeth and placed that hand on Frank’s shoulder blade. The contact had Frank groaning and pushing his nose deeper into the crook of Matt’s neck as Matt gave him a little squeeze.  

“I got you, Frank,” he gently rumbled against the side of Frank’s head. “I got you.” 

Keeping his hand over Frank’s nape where it was, Matt began drawing slow circles over Frank’s back with his other hand. Through the shirt, he felt the bumps on Frank’s skin from old scars as his hand moved soothingly, earning a deep rumbling sound from Frank. There were gunshots and knife wounds, some just slashes, while others went deeper into the skin tissue. As he came to Frank’s shoulder, Matt found a different scar. It was neither from a fire arm nor a stab wound, and clearly one of the most recent ones. Matt frowned to himself when he recognized what it was as his fingertips danced over it. A bite mark. It was large, and the deeper parts showed that it wasn’t from a human, but something with fangs. If Matt had to guess, he would go with a large dog or… a wolf. His stomach clenched in trepidation as he pieced together everything he’d found out about Frank’s situation. Super human strength and speed, accelerated healing, high body temperature and quicker heartbeat. Feral behavior. The last piece of information, and the one bringing those other details together, was something that he’d found out earlier today while listening to something Foggy had been telling him. They were two days away from the full moon. Matt wanted to laugh hysterically at the word that entered his mind. No, this couldn’t be… Right? 

“How long have you had this scar?” he finally ventured, trying to keep his voice neutral. 

Frank’s reaction to his question as well as the light touch against the bite mark told Matt what he needed to know. Frank froze and shuddered, before he turned his head into Matt’s neck and actually whined. Matt forced himself to remain calm, knowing that Frank would be able to tell if Matt panicked in any way, and Matt didn’t want to put him on alert again. Especially as Frank had kept relaxing under Matt’s touch and scent. So Frank might be a werewolf. Matt just needed to wrap his mind around that idea…

“You’re okay, Frank,” Matt spoke gently against the side of Frank’s head, squeezing the back of his neck like earlier since it had seemed to soothe Frank. “Who did this to you?” Matt continued, deciding that finding out more about Frank’s situation was the most important thing in order to figure out how to help him. 

Frank growled menacingly, the sound going through Matt, who, for the first time, didn’t feel like berating Frank for taking out whoever or whatever had done this to him. Matt made a sound of understanding and shushed Frank gently, sliding the tip of his fingers into Frank’s hair. A full-body shudder ran through Frank, who leaned further into Matt’s touch with a grunt. Matt smiled to himself at that and let Frank settle again, doing the same as his mind adjusted to what he’d discovered. 

After a few long minutes of utter silence in which Matt continued his slow petting, and had Frank rumbling softly against his neck, Frank began slowly moving again. His nose stroked lightly up and down Matt’s skin, from right under his ear, to halfway down his throat. His body tensed up again, but it was different from earlier. Matt kept one hand flat over the middle of Frank’s spine, while the other one stayed at the base of Frank’s head, his fingers stilling in Frank’s hair as he realized what was different this time. The scent of panic and anger had all but gone, leaving Frank relaxed, but now it turned into something warmer, flowing down to the base of Frank’s lower body as his hips started rocking back and forth incrementally. Matt gasped faintly as Frank nuzzled him under his ear and felt the beginning of an erection against his hip. This he hadn’t been expecting. 

As if finally noticing what he was doing, Frank let go of Matt like he’d been burnt and rolled off and against the wall side of the bed. Matt picked up the scent of embarrassment that was also shown in the way Frank’s face glowed warmer than before. He obviously couldn’t bring himself to fully break the contact with Matt, however, because didn’t get up like Matt had anticipated, but remained where he was, both men lying side by side on the tiny bed, arms and legs touching. Matt didn’t mind, figuring that Frank’s reaction to him just now must be part of the whole werewolf thing. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Frank mumbled after a beat of silence as they both sat up against the head of the bed. 

Not sure whether Frank was talking about the pouncing and scenting or about getting aroused, or possibly even both, Matt only smiled lopsidedly and turned his face in Frank’s direction. “It’s okay, Frank. I’m glad if I could help in some way.”

Frank grunted in acknowledgment, but fell silent again. 

“How long?” Matt tried slowly a minute later, once Frank’s body had finally calmed back down. 

Frank sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. 

“Close to four months,” he said, finally confirming Matt’s suspicions, then laughed without humor and clearly at himself. “Big bad punisher, huh? Guess you were right. Finally went after that one thing I couldn’t come back from.”

Matt’s heart clenched at the self loathing, his lips twisting sadly. “Frank-”

“Save it, Red. I hate what I’ve become, but I ain’t sorry I went after them. Ain’t sorry I killed ‘em all. Not after what I found on ‘em.”

Matt nodded slowly a few times. He wasn’t going to ask Frank about what and how things happened. It wasn’t like it would change the outcome, so he chose to let it go unless Frank decided to tell him. 

“Does anyone know?” he asked instead. 

“Yeah, didn’t have much of a choice really… The first time I transformed, I was in an old safe house belonging to a friend of mine. Thankfully by myself. When I woke up the next mornin’, the whole place was trashed. I wasn’t able to escape, only ‘cause I’d already locked the place down.” 

Frank paused as he thought back to that night, his heart beat picking up for a second, but Matt placed a hand on his arm, which seemed to ground Frank. 

“That place got security cameras… That’s how I found out.” 

Matt could only imagine Frank’s shock at watching himself transform and virtually destroying a place in an effort to get out. And then having to explain it to someone else without seeming crazy. 

“Got two friends who know. They helped try and figure out how to deal with this, but we only got some half answers. Basically, no take backs… They helped secure each place I got, like this one; made sure I couldn’t get out.”

“Shit,” Matt breathed, as he took it all in. 

“Yeah.”

Then Matt frowned at what Frank had just told him.

“You left the door open on purpose, didn't you? You knew I'd come after you.” 

Matt should have known. No matter the situation and how badly hurt or mentally altered he was, Frank was still methodical to a fault and never did things randomly. He would never have left the door open if he hadn’t expected Matt to show up and want to know what was going on. Frank smiled, small and one-sided, but it was the first smile he'd made the whole night. It wasn't exactly that he hadn't wanted Matt here, but rather that he had been worried that he’d hurt him. Frank hadn’t liked the prospect of potentially injuring Matt and that’s why he had tried to play the situation off, but he knew Matt well enough to know that he’d be too stubborn to let things go after witnessing what had happened on the rooftop.

“Ain’t my fault you’re too stubborn for your own good.” 

Matt huffed out a short breath of a laugh that Frank emulated, and shook his head at himself. It seemed like Frank did know him as well as Matt knew him. 

“Fair enough,” Matt admitted easily. 

A second later, Matt frowned as Frank’s lifting spirit evaporated again as something seemed to unnerve him. 

“You gotta know… When you told me to stop earlier… your voice, it… I dunno… it snapped me out of it… The closer I get to the full moon, the harder it gets to control myself. The wolf part is closer to the surface, I guess, and it ends up like tonight. I shouldn’t have been outside, not with how angry I already was, but I was after that group for weeks and I just couldn’t let them leave.”

Frank's heart began pumping harder again, and he seemed visibly nervous. “What happened with you just now, Red… Your scent was throwin’ me off earlier, and I didn’t know why. But we were fightin’ anyway, so I couldn’t really focus on it… But… When you touched me, I didn’t think, just acted. I dunno. I know it’s fucked up, but nothin’s been able to calm me down until I had you underneath me and could really smell you.” 

Matt let that information slowly sink in. 

“Maybe the wolf inside you realized how charming I am,” he quipped, as he leaned his head back against the wall, trying for humor despite the situation and wanting Frank to get rid of that new bout of unease. 

The amused snort frank uttered made Matt’s smile broader.

“Yeah, maybe he did,” Frank amended, clearly relieved that Matt wasn’t disgusted by his behavior tonight.

And Matt wasn’t. Sure, the whole situation was a bit crazy, and he knew too little about it to really know what to make of how Frank reacted to him, but Matt didn't mind if touching or smelling him helped Frank. He hadn't felt uncomfortable under Frank, and Frank's sudden arousal hadn't bothered him either. He wasn't sure if it was solely because of him or because of the approaching full moon, but it was alright either way.

“Do you think you’ll be alright now?” 

Frank didn't say anything for a couple of seconds as he considered his answer.

“Yeah, guess so. Feelin' much better than I have in a while. So close to the full moon, anyway.”

“It’s not all bad all the time, then?”

Frank sighed softly.

“No, not really. I'm … actually feelin’ pretty good for a good three weeks in between each shift. The days leadin' up to it and the days just after are the worst, though. I'm either going crazy runnin’ around, or I'm completely drained afterward.”

Matt hummed in understanding, feeling quite a bit of relief that the state Frank was in tonight didn’t last for more than a few days. 

After they were silent for a couple of minutes, Matt’s head snapped to Frank as the latter uttered an amused chuckle. 

“You can go home now. Promise I’ll lock the door as soon as you’re out and won’t try rippin’ anyone’s head off.” 

Matt tilted his head to the side with a small frown. Did Frank think that Matt was only staying because he was worried that Frank might run amok again? 

“Didn’t have any doubts about that,” he said simply. As much as Matt hated how easily Frank could resort to killing, Matt also knew that Frank would never jeopardize innocent lives by walking around outside when close to a shift. 

Matt could feel Frank’s eyes on him as he observed him quietly. 

“I’ll be fine, Red,” he said at last in a quiet voice, finally understanding that Matt was staying because of him. 

Matt let his senses purposely roll over Frank one more time. His heart was still beating quicker than normal, but it seemed to be Frank’s new regular cadence. He could still detect the residual agitation that had to come from being this close to the full moon, but Frank was a far cry from the wild and rampaging creature that Matt had encountered on the rooftop just an hour earlier. Nodding slowly, Matt shifted on the cot until he could get up and retrieved the helmet, sliding it under one arm. Frank stood as well and followed Matt to the door. As Matt put a hand on the door knob to open it, Frank suddenly pinned him against the door with an unhappy growl, sending the helmet clamoring to the ground. Surprised by the yet again unexpected reaction from Frank, Matt gasped as Frank slid his nose along Matt's temple and down the side of his face until he reached the dip in his throat. He grasped Frank's shoulders, but stayed still, going as far as tilting his head back. Frank growled once more, the sound lower as the notes of arousal surrounded them again. 

However, as fast as he'd been on Matt, Frank jumped back with a vicious snarl directed at himself.

“Fuck, sorry. I… my wolf doesn't want you to leave,” he sighed at the last part and rubbed his palms over his face. “You gotta go.” 

“You sure?” Matt questioned, wondering whether leaving would set the wolf part inside Frank off again. 

“No,” Frank huffed with an exasperated bark of a laugh. “But you gotta… I’ll be okay, yeah? Just need to calm the fuck down, and he — I won’t as long as you’re here.” 

Nodding again, despite the tendrils of arousal still drifting over to him, Matt picked up the helmet and opened the door this time. There was a new growl, but Matt ignored it as he turned towards Frank again. 

“Come find me if it’s getting too much again.” 

Frank huffed. “Like hell I will.” Then he slammed the door closed before Matt heard the row of large bolts locking into place.

The following day, Matt’s mind kept going back to Frank, wondering whether the effects of scenting and touching him were still working or if Frank was restless and worked up again. Matt stopped himself from checking in on Frank at least three times, knowing that Frank wouldn’t appreciate it. And besides, Matt had been honest when he’d more or less told Frank that he trusted him to stay put if things took a turn for the worse again. Or, at least, until he’d gone through the full moon. What he was concerned about was that Frank might not ask for his help if he was in any pain. Frank had called Matt stubborn, but he was just as bad as Matt, and asking for help wasn’t something either of them really liked doing. At the end of the day, as he lay in bed well after midnight while listening to the sounds of the city, Matt decided to check on Frank the morning after the full moon. 

Several hours later, Matt was suddenly woken by the sound of loud banging. As he jolted into a sitting position while his senses quickly tried to tell him what was going on after being ripped out of sleep, Matt soon realized that the banging was coming from the door leading to the roof. The wild heart beat that reached his ears told him who the visitor was. Hitting a button on the clock that was sitting on the bedside table, Matt’s eyebrows rose as it informed him that it was just a little past six in the morning. Between the early hour and the erratic heart beat, Matt knew that Frank had to be in quite the state. Quickly extricating himself from the bedsheets, Matt hurried through the living room and up the stairs to unlock the door. Frank burst through the door and across the threshold as soon as the lock was open, the heavy breathing that Matt had been able to hear from downstairs now sounding louder and harsher. As Frank rushed past him, the scent of anger, frustration, and need swept over Matt, who was surprised that Frank practically ignored him and instead bolted down the stairs in just a few long strides. Matt followed him at a more measured pace, coming down the stairs slowly as he took in Frank’s bright silhouette, which told him that Frank’s body temperature had risen again. Frank began walking up and down in front of the coffee table, huffing and growling in frustration, giving even more the impression of a wild animal. 

“Frank?” Matt tried calmly, as he reached the main floor and walked to the couch. 

“Didn’ wanna come here,” Frank gritted out without ever stopping in his stomping. “Tried my hardest to stay put, but that fuckin’ mutt just kept pushin’ and pushin’.”

“I told you you could come to me if it got any worse again,” Matt said soothingly, stopping at the couch as he kept his attention on Frank’s movements. 

“Yeah, but I ain’t your problem, Red. I can’t come runnin’ to you like… like… like some…” Frank huffed and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. 

“Maybe, but I already told you, if I can help, I wanna do it.” 

Frank finally paused and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting to keep himself in check. “You don’t get it, Red. The things he wants… the things I want… I just… how can you be okay with that?” 

Frank sounded both frustrated and desperate, clearly holding on to the last shreds of his control as the cloud of anger and need got thicker around them. Matt didn’t even hesitate as he stretched a hand out towards Frank. 

“Come here,” he coaxed softly, while sitting down on the couch. 

“Red…” Frank started before he trailed off, his voice a rough whisper, his knees buckling as he still fought against the wolf.

Matt only smiled and waited. Maybe he would be able to soothe Frank like he had last night, perhaps even enough to make it bearable to get through the transformation. Finally, Frank moved and, to Matt’s great surprise, knelt at Matt’s feet, head bowed. Slanting his head to one side at Frank’s unexpected show of submission, Matt slowly slid a hand to the back of Frank’s hot nape. Frank tensed briefly, but instead of relaxing into the touch, he moved as swiftly as the night before and slammed forward, which had both men falling sideways in a tangle of limbs on the couch. As soon as Frank was on top of Matt, whose head was reclining on the armrest, Frank pressed his nose against Matt’s neck, bringing them back to the same position as the previous night. Having expected it this time, Matt let his head fall to the side as Frank instantly began scenting him, emitting a rumble of satisfaction at Matt’s gesture. Yesterday hadn’t been a coincidence then; something about Matt’s scent did something to Frank. It did seem to soothe him, seeing as how Frank’s breathing slowed, and his heartbeat lost its erratic thumping. The arousal, however, which had been running through Frank among the anger and frustration, was only getting stronger while the two other emotions were settling. Last night, Frank had only gotten aroused once he’d calmed down and all anger had fled his body, but tonight it seemed to be part of the reason why Frank had caved and sought Matt out in the first place. 

As if Frank were aware of Matt’s thought process, a hot tongue against his neck had Matt gasping and gripping at Frank’s Henley. The reaction got a growl out of Frank, who gave the neck more attention for a few licks and sucks before he suddenly slid all the way down Matt’s body. He began nuzzling Matt’s groin, which was only covered by a thin layer of pajama pants. Matt took in a sharp breath of surprise, from the action and from the rather tender way Frank was rubbing his face against his crotch. It was so different from Frank’s otherwise agitated behavior. He gently combed his fingers through Frank’s hair and grasped it lightly. Frank made a rumbling sound and pressed his head into Matt’s hand. Licking his lips, Matt kept his hand there as he thought. He’d wondered whether Frank’s arousal last night had only been due to the full moon’s approach, but taking into account everything that had happened until now as well as what Frank had told him about his reaction to Matt, maybe there was more to it. 

“You said your wolf wants me… But do you want me, Frank?” Matt asked in a low voice, pulling at Frank's hair until Frank was staring up at him while his cheek rested against Matt’s inner thigh, his breathing ragged.

Because that was the real question, wasn’t it? Wolf and human might be one and the same person, but Frank was still fighting his new side. The wolf clearly wanted Matt, and as much as Frank and Matt might get along nowadays, Matt refused to give Frank more if the man wasn’t fully on board as well. He couldn’t have Frank regret anything. This was too important.  

“Yes,” Frank rasped through deep panting breaths, clearly struggling to get that one word out when all he wanted to do was let his other side take over.

Nevertheless, there was no uptick in Frank’s heart beat. Not an ounce of hesitation as he spoke. There was nothing but the absolute truth. 

Somehow, this little word and Frank making the effort to say it, had Matt’s throat going dry as he allowed the heat of his own arousal to wash over him. Having Frank kneeling between his parted legs, looking so eager to please, was something that Matt found really turned him on. Frank made a deep appreciative sound at the back of his throat as Matt’s cock, which had gotten half hard despite himself thanks to Frank rubbing his face over it, filled out further. He pressed his face against it again, breathing in and mouthing along Matt’s covered balls, which caused Matt to groan and lift his hips into the contact. Breathing harder, Matt slowly slid a hand down his body until he caught a thumb in the waistband of his pajama pants and tugged them down. Frank repositioned himself on the couch to allow Matt to lift his hips and slide the pants off, which left him in only a threadbare tee shirt, then Frank laid down between his legs. Frank’s breathing got harsher and faster again before he whined in anticipation, his lust filling Matt’s senses. Taking himself in hand, Matt gave himself a slow pump before he angled his cock towards Frank’s mouth. 

“Go ahead.” 

There wasn’t even a fraction of a second of hesitation as Frank burst forward and slid his lips around the head of Matt’s cock. Frank didn't stop there, he pressed forward and took Matt's entire length into his mouth, the head going down his scalding and eager throat in one slide.

“Fuck!” Matt cried out, while his head bowed back over the armrest as his hips reflexively jerked up and his hands fisted inside Frank's hair. 

Taking Matt’s hips in a tight grip, Frank shuddered and groaned deep in his throat, which had Matt uttering another curse at the intense vibrations along his dick and balls. Panting, Matt felt Frank squirming around, until he realized, as another scent reached his nose, that Frank had just come inside his jeans from going down on Matt. The smell of Frank's release had another wave of heat curling inside Matt's belly. He stroked his fingers through Frank's hair and hummed out a pleased sound. 

“You're being so good,” Matt voiced softly, going along with Frank's obvious need to please Matt. 

Frank whined and popped off Matt's cock, licking along the ridge on the underside as he started to rub himself against the couch again. He'd just come, but his erection hadn't seemed to have gone down at all. As Frank took his time exploring Matt’s length with long and meticulous passes of his hot tongue, Matt wondered if Frank was either just pent-up or if the short refractory period had anything to do with the werewolf side. A minute later and Frank was coming again, whining and grunting against the soft skin of Matt’s balls that he was busy sucking on. Matt moaned from the feeling and the sounds that Frank was making. Frank breathed deeply against Matt’s hip, licking and nibbling at the skin at random before he was suckling at the tip of Matt’s cock again. After barely a whole minute, Frank was back to sucking enthusiastically and taking most of Matt’s cock into his mouth. Matt lost his focus for a few long seconds at the tight suction on his length and carded his fingers through Frank’s hair as he bucked his hips up. However, as Frank began humping the couch again just a few moments later, Matt knew that there was more to it than Frank only being pent-up. 

Frank kept Matt on the edge for the next ten minutes, since Frank came three more times in that same time frame, which had him stopping in his ministrations each time. Matt panted, as Frank went from taking him down his throat and almost making him come, to just dropping open-mouthed kisses along the length again as he began shaking for a fifth time. But this clearly wasn’t enough for Frank. The sounds he was making now were of absolute frustration, but it also seemed like he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if he would keep going and going until finally satisfied. Which clearly wasn’t happening. At least not by only sucking Matt off, no matter how much Frank enjoyed giving Matt all the attention. Getting a good hold on Frank’s hair to get his attention as he tugged on it, Matt cut off a groan of pleasure as Frank lapped at his balls. He might have an inkling as to what could be missing for Frank to get there. 

“Do you need to fuck me, Frank?” Matt murmured in a low tone. 

Frank startled and whined deep in his throat, the sound pitiful and needy as the question hit its mark. Matt licked his lips, while his dick twitched at the words he was about to say. 

“Then do it.”

Surprise poured off Frank at Matt's words, but the sound that followed was between human and animal; a groan turning into a deep growl. Before Matt could say anything further or move an inch, Frank sprang into action. He rose to his knees and grabbed Matt by the waist, easily manhandling him until he was on his knees, face over the armrest and his ass in the air. Breathing heavily while Frank knelt behind him as he practically ripped his jeans open, Matt felt a mild sense of concern that Frank might try to go in without any preparation. But Frank caught him off guard once again. Feeling two hands on his ass, Matt only had the time to open his mouth in surprise as he understood Frank’s intentions right before Frank leaned in with a snarl and dove, mouth first, between Matt's ass cheeks. He showed as much enthusiasm for opening Matt with his mouth and tongue as while he’d been blowing him. There was no sign of restraint as Frank sucked and licked around Matt’s entrance, the vibrations of his hungry growls running down Matt’s taint and making his cock leak onto the couch. With his forearms braced on the armrest, Matt buried his face into them as he moaned and groaned, while pressing his ass back into Frank’s mouth and fingers. Matt had been surfing the edge of release for so long now, that as Frank’s scruffy chin rubbed against his tightening balls while he finally slid an inch of his tongue inside, Matt suddenly came with a muffled shout. He gasped loudly as Frank growled in satisfaction, and felt Frank’s hand run over his length to cup the tip and catch the remainder of his release. His senses followed the way Frank shuffled back on his knees and brought his hand to his face to run his tongue over the come covered palm. Matt shivered at Frank’s low hum of contentment about having pleased Matt. A second later, he was using that same hand to grip his own erection and jerk himself quickly, whining as he gathered the traces of his previous orgasms to mix their essences together. Frank uttered a raspy sound of need and let go of himself to rub his slick fingers around Matt’s hole before pushing a thumb inside. 

“Oh, God,” Matt croaked out, his head pressing into his forearms.

Despite feeling slightly sensitive now, Matt still felt the new stirrings of arousal from Frank’s ministrations. He relaxed into the touch and hummed in encouragement as Frank went deeper, having switched to index and middle finger now. As wild and erratic as Frank’s behavior might have been so far, Matt was still impressed by the restraint that Frank was showing by not just shoving into Matt right away. Especially since Frank’s hard length was twitching and continuously pumping out small pulses of pre-come. However, as he moaned when Frank went in with a third finger, Matt finally realized something. Reaching behind him to grab Frank’s wrist and stop what he was doing, Matt turned his head towards the other man and squeezed his wrist.

“Fuck me,” he whispered fiercely, knowing that Frank had been waiting for him to give the go-ahead. 

As expected, the two words catapulted Frank into action. He whined deep in his throat as he pulled his fingers free to a small gasp from Matt, and leaned his body over Matt’s, holding himself up next to his shoulders with one hand. With his panting breaths hot on Matt’s nape, Frank shifted around until Matt could feel the blunt but burning tip of Frank’s cock pressing against his entrance. Matt pushed back with a grunt as Frank shoved forward, which had the head slipping inside. Frank had barely moved in a few more inches, when he came with a sound that had all the hairs on Matt’s body rising, the growl so deep that it ran through Matt’s entire being. Liquid heat coated Matt’s walls as Frank filled him with his come, which eased the way as Frank already began moving again after only a few seconds of stillness. Frank whined against Matt’s nape in a clear apology, but Matt was quick to reassure him, his body gradually accepting Frank’s girth. 

“You’re good, Frank. Keep going… you're good,” Matt rasped breathlessly, his cock now back to full hardness at the welcoming burn of Frank settling fully inside him. 

As if spurred on by the praise, Frank whined and thrust again. And again. And again. Matt took it all, letting his body sink into the couch as he focused on Frank's pleasure to build his own. With his dick starting to leak as Frank’s powerful thrusts kept passing over his prostate, Matt snaked a hand down his body to stroke himself quickly. He shivered at the sudden feeling of Frank’s lips brushing over his shoulder, but uttered a sharp gasp as the lips pulled back to reveal Frank’s teeth. They wrapped around the muscle where shoulder met neck, and while the hold was loose, Matt knew what Frank needed. As Frank pounded into him, his jaw tightening ever so slightly over Matt’s shoulder while barreling towards a seventh orgasm, Matt knew that if he agreed, this time it would be enough to satisfy the wolf as well. Matt didn’t hesitate, since, if he had to be honest, he wanted it too.

“Do it,” he said firmly at Frank’s whine, and cocked his head to the side in invitation. 

Frank growled that deep, animalistic sound again, then sank his teeth into Matt’s shoulder. A second later, his hips locked against Matt as he erupted deep inside him. Matt cried out at the sharp burst of pain zinging down his spine, and came with a long shudder all over the couch again. His breaths were quick as he felt Frank’s orgasm going on for longer than the others before, hot splashes pulsing inside him repeatedly while Frank jerked faintly for long seconds. He growled around the tender flesh between his teeth, but he didn’t break the skin. Thankfully, it was in a spot that was usually covered, since Matt would most definitely be sporting a large bruise later on. 

After a while, Frank’s jaw finally loosened and let go. He snaked an arm around Matt’s waist, and after a few pulls and tugs, Matt found himself lying on his side with Frank behind him, his dick still lodged inside. Matt felt the stickiness of his come against his skin from the wet spot he’d created on the couch, but with Frank’s warm presence at his back, he found that he didn’t mind it too much. Frank curled his arms around Matt’s chest and waist, and pressed his forehead against the back of Matt’s head. His breathing was still fast, but it was slowing by the second, as did his heart beat. Matt closed his heavy eyes since his sleep had been interrupted, and focused on the feeling of Frank’s body finally relaxing. It was long minutes of silence later that Frank’s hand moved from Matt’s chest to lift to his neck instead. A small shiver ran through Matt as Frank stroked a gentle thumb over the bite mark. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. You told me to go for it, but…” Frank said, voice rough with disuse, before he trailed off and shook his head. 

“Don’t be. I wanted it too.”

Frank exhaled a short and soft incredulous laugh, as if, until now, he’d still been unable to believe that Matt had been completely on board with anything that had happened. 

“Just so you know, it wouldn’t have turned you if I’d actually broken the skin,” he said at length. “Only if I’d been transformed.”

“I know.” Matt smiled lightly at the frown he felt forming on Frank’s brow after Matt’s statement, his confusion evident. Matt continued before Frank could inquire further. “You would never have bit me if you knew it could turn me.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve been mostly runnin’ on instinct since yesterday. What if I’d just lost control ‘n-”

“Would you though?” Matt countered, turning his head slightly towards Frank. “You might have been running on instinct, Frank, but your wolf clearly also doesn’t want to hurt me either. It wanted to please me… The both of you did.”

It was a bold statement, but not less true. It showed in how Frank’s face and chest glowed with warmth as he flushed. He also didn’t contradict Matt. 

“You always got too much faith in people, Red. Gonna get you killed one of these days,” Frank grumbled, but the arm around Matt’s chest tightened. 

Matt chuckled. “I’d rather say I have faith in the right people.”

Frank scoffed, obviously unconvinced. They lapsed into silence, until Matt felt Frank’s heart slow as he began to nod off, the man even more exhausted than Matt. 

“As nice as this is, how ‘bout we, huh, clean up a little and take this to the bedroom? My couch’s not bad, I’d know, but my bed’s much better.” 

To Matt’s surprise, Frank hummed in agreement. He’d thought that Frank would choose to make a quick exit and lock himself away now that his need had settled, despite having all day before the moon rose. Instead, they moved together, Frank’s soft dick slipping from Matt’s loose hole and bringing with it a gush of come. Matt was silently glad that the couch was made of some kind of leather like material, which made it easier to clean than some other fabrics. 

“Christ,” Frank rumbled, as Matt got up and come slid down his thighs. 

There was a deep wave of contentment coming from Frank as a flicker of heat lit in his groin and chest. It stayed that way, however, only a flicker, and Matt supposed that the wolf was satisfied to have left its mark on him. 

Throwing Frank a small smile over his shoulder, Matt walked towards the bathroom, his ass feeling a little sore, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. He could tell that Frank’s eyes followed him as he stripped off the tee shirt and entered the bathroom, leaving the door open in invitation. However, he felt Frank move towards the kitchen to find what he needed to clean the couch. He did join Matt a few minutes later as Matt stood under the spray, letting the hot jets of water hit his lower back. As he stepped into the shower, Frank stood unmoving for several seconds, until Matt raised a hand towards his neck, his fingers light over the warm skin. He smiled as Frank sank into the touch and took a step closer to Matt, his eyes falling shut. Matt maneuvered him under the water, and from there it didn’t take them long to finish cleaning up and step out of the shower to dry off.

“I should head back,” Frank said quietly, as they stood naked at the foot of the bed, having those thoughts that Matt had expected of him earlier. 

“Later,” Matt insisted, slipping under the covers. “You’re about ready to pass out, and so am I.”

Frank hesitated, although he yawned widely, confirming Matt’s words. 

“C’m ‘ere, Frank,” Matt beckoned, hand stretched out like earlier. 

Frank licked his lips nervously, but put a knee onto the bed and moved up until he was lying behind Matt under the covers. Matt smiled to himself as Frank automatically pressed his front to Matt’s back, one arm wrapping around Matt’s waist as he sank his nose into Matt’s neck, breathing in deeply. 

Matt wasn’t surprised that Frank was asleep within the next exhale, but he wasn’t far behind.

Matt jerked awake to Frank jolting into a sitting position, his heartbeat frantic as panic poured off him. 

“Wha — what time is it?” Frank barked, trying to extricate himself from the sheets, but Matt grabbed one of his arms while simultaneously hitting the bedside clock with his other fist. 

“Two forty-seven PM,” the electronic voice announced. 

While Matt was shocked to realize that they'd ended up sleeping for such a long time, there was still more than enough time for Frank to return to the safe house before moonrise. Frank didn’t seem to come to the same conclusion, however, since he kept trying to get up. Huffing, Matt rolled until he was leaning over Frank and fighting to push him down. 

“Frank, stop, you’re good. It’s not even three yet,” he grunted, as he strained against Frank’s superhuman strength.

Frank finally seemed to understand what Matt was telling him because he fell to the bed again, which Matt was thankful for since he wouldn’t have actually been able to stop Frank if he hadn’t relented. 

“Moonrise isn’t until another four hours,” Matt added, since he’d checked the exact time the previous day. “Take a sec and then we’ll go.”

Frank went completely still underneath him at these words. 

“We?” he barked.

That at least seemed to fully snap Frank out of his spiraling thoughts. The panic got a furious twist to it, though. 

“What d’you mean we? You ain’t comin’, Red. Ain’t no way you’re gonna stay while… while…” Frank pushed Matt off and got up, completely oblivious to the fact that he was still naked, before he started pacing at the end of the bed. “I ain’t gonna attack anyone on the way back,” he mumbled with an irritated grunt that was supposed to hide his worry at the thought of Matt following him to the safe house. 

Matt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You know I’m not worried about that,” Matt told him exasperatedly, before continuing without being able to hold back from sniping back in the face of Frank’s reaction. “Although, considering how agitated you’re getting, maybe I should be.” 

“Oh fuck you. Whose fault’s that, huh? Comin’ up with dangerous ideas that could get you killed?” Frank snapped, stopping in his pacing and facing Matt with a finger pointed at him. 

Matt rolled his eyes and climbed off the bed to join Frank, whose quick heart beat thudded louder as Matt, just as naked as him, came closer. Satisfied by Frank’s momentary distraction, Matt shortened the distance between them and slid a hand to the back of Frank’s neck. Frank’s shoulders slumped and he instinctively leaned into the touch as his eyes closed. 

“I won’t stay,” Matt said softly, stroking his fingertips along the short hairs at the base of Frank’s head. “I just want to make sure you’re okay before you shift.” 

Frank sighed deeply and pressed his forehead against Matt’s. 

“I dunno how it’s gonna go after… everythin’. But even though it ain’t gonna be a walk in the park, I know it'll be okay,” he fell quiet for a second. “I feel good, Red. Better than I have since this all started.”

Matt’s grip on Frank’s nape tightened for a second, before he released a long breath and nodded. If Frank was so sure, why should Matt push him about it? 

“‘Kay,” he relented. 

Matt thought that Frank would take a step back and quickly move around to get his clothes and leave, but Frank ended up with his nose buried in Matt’s neck instead. Smiling as Frank loosely linked his arms around Matt to pull him closer as he breathed him in, Matt closed his eyes and let his hand slide into Frank’s hair. After a minute of scenting, however, Matt smelled the beginning of Frank’s arousal. Frank took a few steps back though when his cock twitched with interest against Matt’s hip and cleared his throat. 

“We should get dressed,” Frank suggested with a tinge of embarrassment highlighting his face. 

Matt grinned because, this time, it wasn’t the wolf’s need at play, but the man’s proximity to a naked Matt. 

“Oh, shut up,” Frank huffed at Matt's smirk, but his lips were quirking up as well. 

Once Frank was dressed and ready to leave, Matt led him to the entrance door. 

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” Matt informed him decisively. 

Frank opened his mouth as he reached for the door handle, but closed it again after a second. 

“Right,” he ended up saying, and Matt knew that he’d been about to tell Matt that he didn’t have to come, but he was also aware that Matt wouldn’t listen anyway. 

Frank regarded him for a few quiet seconds as he stood in the open doorway, then ducked his head. 

“Right… see you later, Red.” 

Matt gave him a one-sided smile and nodded, just hoping that tonight would be alright. 

“Yeah.” 

As Frank walked away, Matt listened to his heart beat for as long as his hearing could follow. 

That night, Matt slept fitfully. He wasn’t particularly tired since he’d slept in so late, and he kept waking, wondering whether Frank was going through the shift okay. He shook his head at himself as 2am rolled around and he lay on his back, eyes open and thinking instead of sleeping. Frank had gone through this several times before, and while the experience had been highly unpleasant, he’d been alright all the same afterward. He’d also told Matt that he felt better than the other times after spending the day with Matt. But it didn’t stop Matt from feeling the itch to get up and head over to Frank’s safe house anyway. After another hour of sleeplessness, Matt got out of bed with a huff and got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie before heading out of the apartment. He made his way through the city, until he reached Frank’s safe house and slowly went down to the basement. The closer he got, the better he could make out the sounds inside the locked room. He swallowed thickly as he felt the huge form on the other side of the metal door, growling and prowling around like a tiger behind bars. Despite everything, it was still wild to think that the creature was Frank. 

“Frank?” he tried, putting a palm against the door, feeling the vibrations of the growls through it. 

There was instant silence on the other side, which was followed by a small whine a second later. Yeah, this definitely was Frank. The large form came closer to the door, until its head thumped against the metal. Matt smiled at the huff Frank made as he sat against the door. It sounded annoyed and so much like Frank. Could it be that Frank was conscious inside the wolf this time? From what Matt had understood after Frank’s description of the previous transformations, Frank wasn’t in control during the full moon. 

“I know I said I’d stay away, but…”

Another huff, which sounded like a snort this time. Matt laughed and sighed, turning around to lean against the door and slide down its length until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“Maybe I could’ve stayed with you in the end,” Matt mumbled while reclining his head against the metal. 

Frank growled menacingly, which only had Matt chuckling because he could hear Frank’s voice saying “Don’t be an idiot.” in his head. 

“Okay, okay, fine.” He was silent for a minute as he thought. “Are you in any pain?” 

This time, Frank made a low rumbling sound that Matt understood to be a no. 

“Good,” Matt said softly, as his eyelids began to droop, finally feeling tired now that he knew that Frank was okay. 

They stayed quiet for a while, as both of them seemed to finally relax enough to rest. After a while, there was another soft grunt from Frank and a thump against the metal, but Matt was already falling asleep with his head against the doorjamb.

He woke some time later, to a crick in his neck and a stiff hip from the awkward sleeping position he’d been in, but that wasn’t what had pulled him out of his sleep. Soft growls of pain and loud snapping sounds echoed from the storage room, which had Matt on alert instantly as he ignored the discomfort of his own body. He followed with a grimace of sympathy as the wolf morphed into a human again. Once the noises stopped, there was only labored breathing from the other side of the door. 

“Frank?” Matt asked softly, as he rose to his feet. 

No answer. 

“Fra-”

“Go home, Red,” Frank cut in, his voice rough and strained from pain and exhaustion. 

Matt’s jaw clenched. “Open the door, Frank.” A beat of silence. “Please.” 

A weary sigh met Matt’s ears, but the bolts slid free one after the other until the door opened. Frank was already walking away from the door as Matt stepped inside, slipping on a pair of sweatpants he picked up from the cot. Last night, Matt had been too focused on Frank to check on the state of the room, but it looked like Frank hadn’t broken anything, nor tried to, unlike the time Frank told him about. That had to be a good sign. Without a word, Matt made a quick detour to the tiny adjacent bathroom before he joined Frank again, sitting down next to him on the edge of the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Frank shrugged as he stared at his clenching and unclenching fists. 

“Fine… Tired ‘s all.”

“The shift’s painful, then?” 

They hadn’t talked about it, but from what Matt had heard as he woke up, it certainly seemed that way. Frank shrugged again, then turned his head to stare at Matt. 

“Wasn’t as bad as the other times, though.”

Matt nodded, understanding that being with Matt had also helped Frank with that part of the transformation. 

“And you were able to stay in control too, right?”

Frank huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah… Up until you came, the wolf was takin’ up most of the space, but he wasn’t angry this time. And when I heard your voice, he just… I dunno… mellowed out completely.” Then Frank pointed at Matt with a serious expression. “But don’t think ‘bout stayin’ next time. Ain’t gonna happen.” 

Matt snorted loudly and patted Frank’s thigh soothingly. “Maybe we could find a way where-”

“Not. Gonna. Happen. Red”, Frank growled so deeply and menacingly that Matt sighed as the smile slipped from his face. 

He knew that Frank was worried that he could end up biting Matt if he ever stayed around.

“I know,” he amended gently. 

What Matt didn’t say was that he was willing to bet that he might not have to fear anything from Frank while transformed if things went on like they had last night. But after what Frank had gone through these last few months, Matt also understood Frank’s worry and knew that it was too soon to really have that conversation. 

Frank visibly relaxed at Matt’s acceptance and started leaning sideways to lie on the bed. What Matt didn’t expect was for Frank to wrap an arm around Matt’s waist and pull him down along with him. Matt made a sound of surprise but allowed Frank to push him into the position he wanted. They ended up face to face, with Frank’s arms wrapped around Matt as he pressed his nose against Matt’s throat. Like he’d done several times now in the last three days, Matt curled his fingers over Frank’s warm nape as the calm thumping of Frank’s heart took over his hearing. 

“Does that mean you’ll keep doing that even after the full moon?” Matt asked with a light chuckle, as Frank breathed him in. 

Frank grumbled at the question but didn’t pull away, which only had Matt grinning broadly. Frank smelled so relaxed and content that Matt couldn’t even begin to mind. Instead, Matt slid his fingers into Frank’s hair and pulled his head back. Frank grunted in annoyance, but went still as Matt kissed him. It was only a soft press of lips at first, but Frank responded a second later, leaning into the kiss as he rolled halfway on top of Matt with a low growl. 

“So the wolf likes this too?” Matt grinned through soft pants, as Frank eased up again. 

Frank hummed while nosing along Matt’s jaw, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Guess he and I are finally startin’ to understand each other.”

[arkhamabyssfiles]

Loading FILE...HUNTRESS_MEMORY_06 ALFRED PENNYWORTH: AGE, 57 BRUCE WAYNE: AGE, 37 HELENA WAYNE: AGE, 15 JASON TODD: AGE, 17

“You look a little pale.”

“It’s the light,” Jason answered as he bit into a sandwich.

“Is it?” Helena asked taking a sip from her cappuccino.

Meanwhile, Alfred gets on with dinner in the background, but Helena knows by experience how keen the butler’s hearing is when it comes to anyone showing the slightest sign of sickness. It got one to know one. So when Alfred turned briefly to reach for a spatula they exchanged “the conspiracy look” as Dick had dubbed it.

“You don’t look as enthusiastic about your pre-dinner as you usually do either.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I’m always looking at you.”

“Well, don’t be the first one to admit you are a pervert.”

Helena smiled all teeth and leaned her chin over her entwined fingers, “Only for cute growling knightly boys.”

Jason's glare intensified and he chomped down in two bites the last of his sandwich. He took his plate and went to wash it, Alfred didn’t make anyone wash their plates, but whenever someone did, they earned his approval and a quick glimpse of the cookie stash. In any case, Jason would have managed to escape them successfully if at the last minute he hadn’t sneezed, not just a ‘a little dust or pollen got in your nose sneeze’ but a rather violent one that was immediately followed by another. A pair of cats awaiting for a mouse to come out from behind a shelve wouldn’t have jumped on top of it quicker than they did on the unfortunate teen.

Alfred put his hands on both his shoulders while Helena was already reaching for the thermometer in the “medical shelve” of the kitchen.

“I’m fine. Really. No need to make such a fuz—” Jason couldn’t finish when the glass thermometer was shoved into his mouth.

“If you take it out I’ll make you regret it.” Helena pointed at his face warningly.

Jason raised an eyebrow but didn’t take it out. He was made to sit down on the kitchen table again by Alfred and if he was intimidated by the old butler and her looming expectantly over him he didn’t show it…much. The time passed and Helena pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, Helena and Alfred looked at it critically behind his back.

“See? I’m fi—”

Helena ignored him completely. “He has a slight fever.”

“Indeed. The start of a cold, most likely.”

“No. I’m fine.” And to prove his point he sneezed.

“Your idea of fine, Master Jason, is one I’m afraid we do not share with you.”

Jason sighed, “Ok, I might be feeling a little off. But it’s nothing serious. I have to go out tonight.”

“No, you don’t,” Helena answered. “What happens if you sneeze right when you’re on top of a building? Whoosh and splat.”

Jason laughed and Helena’s heart suddenly had some minor arrhythmia. “You got the wildest imagination, Princess.”

The door to the kitchen opened and her Dad came in, probably searching for a sandwich or something before going out for the night. Jason immediately sent threatening glares at her, Helena just smiled at him, smugness filling her insides.

“Jason has a cold.”

Her Dad closed the fridge and looked back at them, Alfred nodded, confirming the sentence.

“Stay for tonight, Jason.”

“But I’m feeling fine—” And he sneezed again. How unlucky he was, Helena thought passing him a napkin to blow his nose, those sneezes came in the most unfortunate of timings. Jason snatched the napkin from her hand and glared at her as if it was her fault he got sick.

“It’s normal to get sick, Jason. And it’s a good opportunity to take a rest.”

Helena truthfully couldn’t understand how he could want to go out and run around in the cold and dangerous streets of Gotham when not feeling good. Was it a men's thing? Or simply of edgy people? Thinking of a certain redheaded girl who had taken to this kind of thing as well.

“You are under sick arrest,” Helena said bending down and tapping his nose, he sniffed and still continued to send daggers her way, too bad she was immune to it. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in shape in no time!”

“Hell no. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

“Don’t be so shy~ I’ll make sure to cuddle you in your sickbed.”

The horrified look he showed made her go into stitches of laughter.

“Bruce. Really, I’m fine. Just don’t leave me with her!” Jason resorted to pleading, even if she knew it hurt his pride.

Her Dad wasn’t helpful, just finishing filling a glass of milk and receiving a plate with a sandwich from Alfred. “I’m sorry, boy. There’s nothing I can do, I’m legally impeded to interfere in the realm of colds and the flu.”

“Legally? How’s that a thing?”

Her Dad shrugged. Yes, she had made him sign a contract over colds –which had no real validity–. 

“Good luck,” Dad said as he was about to leave the kitchen and probably head into the Batcave and eat while reading or reviewing something in front of the Batcomputer, when two coughs erupted from his throat.

Everyone froze for a moment.

“Dad.”

“I’m fine. Just choked.”

“That didn’t sound like choking. Does your throat ache?”

“No.”

It was too late, Alfred had stepped in to block the door. He was trapped.

“A routine check of your temperature won’t hurt you, Master Bruce.”

Helena glanced briefly at Jason who now had a gleeful aura around him with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning back into his chair. While she passed behind him, she let her finger trace the back of his neck, he shuddered and rubbed it but didn’t say anything. Which was a little odd, but she let it go focusing instead on the attempt at negotiation between her Dad and Alfred. If anything that was a dead giveaway that he was starting to feel off—Helena skipped a step joyfully knowing she’d have them at her mercy for a couple of days.

END OF MEMORY... For more FILES check previous entries...

[holly-fixation]

Seraphic and Sinister: Ch 2

Summary: Sephiroth learns that he has a child, a lab made specimen existing under the same terrible conditions he was raised in. In a moment of pure rage, he rescues his child. However, his fate has long been sealed, but the child’s fate is unknown. 

Never did he expect the cadet that killed him to take responsibility for the heir of His planet. 

Inspired by various asks to @rottenpumpkin13 

Chapter 2: Adaptation

The badlands. Midgar territory. The land between the thriving metropolis and the small town of Kalm.

For all his time in SOLDIER, this was his first experience in the so called ‘badlands’, not a digital recreation or the scenery of a transport. Missions not far from Midgar were considered too elementary for First Class. He couldn't argue with the decision because he fully agreed with it. Why send him to exterminate a wild pack of overgrown rodents when he could take down a behemoth? 

Or an army?

Maybe ‘use’ was more accurate than ‘send’. Yesterday, he would’ve ignored that thought.

This was his first time acknowledging the decay of massive mako pipelines and the withered life around them. 

Now he had a new life to protect. No bullet grazed her skin, no blade reached her hair, no enemy flame warmed her during their escape. He guarded her against his chest as she held him and her blade, barely making a single sound. His strength far exceeded security's mechs. His tactics kept thousands of his men alive. The simple security officers and the army of a never invaded city could not take him down, and could not find him. 

However, Hojo could. 

Hojo trained him. Hojo taught him. Hojo knew his every string of logic. His every thought and countermeasure. He only hoped his decisions were too backwards to be predictable, for hope was all he could do. 

Like his decision to avoid the Grasslands.

He defeated as few fiends as possible, collecting only the most valuable pieces. They weren't worth much, but too many corpses would lead even the newest cadet straight to him. 

For now, they rested in an old chocobo stop far off the main road. The decaying mako pipes made for good shelter if necessary. The young chocobo warking at their side shouldn't give them away. They were out of sight. For now.

Seraphina had not noticed the Fluffy creature yet. Despite the sun rising in the sky, her eyes were falling closed. She needed rest, but he needed to take the risk of Kalm before nightfall. They needed supplies. At very least, she needed food. Formula. The lab notes said something about protein shakes…

He really didn't know the first thing about caring for a child, much less raising one. He should've run back to his apartment and gathered supplies before breaking her out. He should've grabbed some MREs so she wouldn't starve to death before Shinra lost their scent. He should've looked up how to at least change a diaper. He should've-

“Dada…” the baby in his arms pulled at his chest straps, suddenly wide awake. “Dada…”

He tried to soften his expression, a stern mask despite his melting heart. “Yes? What is it, Seraphina?”

“Potty…” she answered quickly. 

He was confused. Wasn't she-

“Potty. Potty.” She pointed down harshly, fussing and wiggling. 

He was already placing her on the ground, his confusion locked to his face. 

She slipped out of his grip and ran as best she could behind the chocobo stop. 

Sephiroth assumed the child wanted privacy so he kept watch. Well, at least diapers wouldn't be necessary. Maybe just a couple hours here to see Shinra’s next move before they-

He winced. That smell. He’s moving her the moment she’s ready. He dealt with far worse in Wutai, but she shouldn’t have to stay around it. He heard shifting scrapes before she returned. A quick glance confirmed she buried the source, the potency decreasing in the air.

“All better?”

She nodded.

“Come on.” He stretched out his arms to her length, “We need to keep moving. Just a little longer.” 

She pointed to the little yellow bird. Well, little to him. The creature itself was multiple times larger than her. 

“That's a chocochick,” came his short explanation. “It won't hurt us.”

Seraphina slowly approached, the limp in her step making the creature tilt its head of spiky feathers to the right and left. She raised her hands and slowly pushed against the plumes. 

Sephiroth watched the involuntary crushing of her fingers in feathers as she pressed her entire face into the plumes. The chocochick warked happily as it flapped its tiny wings. She didn't make a sound, and she was shaking but refused to move. He should find her a soft blanket as soon as possible. 

“Don't hold back. It's okay.”

She suddenly tried to wrap her arms around the creature, touching as many of the feathers as her size allowed. 

The former soldier gave her a moment to enjoy the feeling before interrupting, “We have to go.” 

She gave him a sad look. 

“Don't worry. We'll see him again. Come on.” Without missing a beat, he scooped her into his arms. If he remembered correctly, they weren't too far from a vantage point of Midgar. They could at least keep an eye on the sky, see if Kalm was safe yet. 

She tried to look around, deliberately keeping her eyes on monsters she must've deemed too close. But she never tried to leave his grasp. Even when they reached the open patch at the end of the forgotten pipe. 

He had no idea the northern badlands held any sense of life, much less an unattended flower patch. Distinct colors of daisies covered the ground overlooking the city, almost a deliberate distinction between the reds, yellows, blues, and whites. 

“Dada?”

“Yes, Seraphina?”

She pointed at the colors and then tilted her head at him. 

“Those are flowers. They’re plants beginning to grow seeds. It’ll be safe here for a bit. Go take a look.” 

When her feet touched the ground, she fell forward, crawling as cat-like eyes widened like saucers as she investigated each and every limb of the flora before her. 

Sephiroth found his focus more split than on any battlefield. Even when transporting injured, he was less worried about every shift of the air, of the sand, of even the insects. He needed to watch for Shinra. He needed to watch for monsters. 

But he also needed to watch her. 

A glance at his men was all he required to know they were safe, but his instincts forced his eyes to her constantly. What if she hurt herself? What if she ate a rock? That's something kids did, right? What if she got stuck or tripped or fell? Monsters he could handle, but what was he supposed to do about everything else?

If he made enough Gil from the spoils of his limited monster regulation, he should buy a parenting book with the supplies. A tent would be an absolute luxury. 

From the look of it, all aircrafts leaving Midgar either headed south to Junon or east beyond Kalm. There was a chance the small town was safe for now, and if he stayed by the entrance he could get them out before a blockade sealed them in. 

He scooped some loose dirt into his gloves and smeared it onto his hair and face. 

Seraphina looked up and grabbed the ground too. 

“Stop.” 

Her hands opened instantly.

“No one will see you. Don't worry.”

His daughter’s stomach suddenly growled and she let out the smallest of whines. 

Sephiroth lifted the corner of his long coat and summoned his blade. In an instant, he held the remaining fabric, and the uniform frayed with unsown edges. He scooped his daughter into the new sheet, wrapping both her body and her hair. “When I tell you, I need you to close your eyes and keep them closed no matter what. I'll tell you when to open them. Okay?” 

She nodded. 

He began walking, passing a few of the mako pipes before catching his own reflection in the chocobo stop. It wasn't enough. “One moment.” He placed her back down and detached the pauldrons from his uniform before sending them to the very same place as his sword. He brushed his fingers through his bangs to his shoulder and began separating the strands into three sections, the pressure collapsing his recognizable bangs. 

Seraphina held her palms out, opening and closing them. 

He chose to kneel down to her height. “What is it?” 

She gestured to his hair. 

“You can touch it later. I have to-” 

Sharper movements. More deliberate gripping. 

He sighed. “I don't understand…”

She huffed before kneeling on the ground. She put her index fingers in the dirt and dragged them, making a shape appear. Right over left. Left over right. Right over left. Left over right.

His brows knotted. “You know how to braid?”

She nodded again. 

He was about to ask ‘how’ when he remembered who he was talking to. He gave in and lifted her up again. “Can you braid while we walk?”

She had already begun weaving the strands. 

“...I guess so.”

While his daughter continued, he latched every remaining buckle on his coat. With his flattened bangs blocking his eyes, maybe he'd buy them enough time to retrieve a meal. Or at least let her have a meal tonight. 

His nerves spiked as his boots made contact with the asphalt between Midgar and Kalm. He took a breath, knowing the gates were close despite not being in sight. He tightened the wrap around Seraphina as she held onto the end of the untied braid. 

“Eyes closed, Seraphina.” 

She obeyed, leaning her face toward him.

Kalm was no different than every story he heard. As the rest spot and short vacation destination, Shinra employees littered the crowds. Few and far between but enough for him to know they were there. Kids ran through the carless streets. People shopped and smiled through their casual conversations. No one spoke his name. Shinra valued him highly, and he hoped their pride would prevent them from spreading word of his desertion. 

Desertion. The word never crossed his mind. 

He kept a normal pace as he made his way through the crowd, stopping at the very first convenience store near an alley. He grabbed a reusable bag from the entrance. “Can I sell items here…?” 

Such a basic question seemed to throw the clerk off, especially with his voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah, just come up at the end to make it easier on me.”

He nodded once and wasted no time, skimming the aisles for supplies. Ramen noodles, water bottles, even cheap protein shakes. He knew he didn't have enough to afford clothes for both of them, so one fluffy gray hoodie would have to do. He found himself thankful this tiny corner shop had everything they needed. 

 At the counter, he lifted the bag. 

“Ah ah ah! What are you selling first? Makes my life easier if you tell me now.”

He placed multiple beast talons, beast bones, and ether onions on the counter. 

The cashier lifted and searched each item, rubbing each imperfection before inputting numbers into the machine. “Alright, what are you buying?”

He placed the bag on the counter, watching the same process unfold product by product. 

“Hey, lucky you!” The employee handed him one hundred Gil in cash. “Just enough to cover your bill and then some.”

A hundred Gil. He should buy a potion. Maybe it will help his daughter's- “Are there any bookstores nearby…?” The question left his lips before his mind caught up with the task.

“The best bookstore in town is Maghnata books. Dead center of town, can't miss it. And they always have good sales!”

He nodded and retrieved his items. “Thank you…”

The center of Kalm was a big risk. Too many vantage points. Too many people to find him. Too many distractions. But he wanted Seraphina to have a normal life, and it started with learning what that meant for someone her age. He needed to learn how to raise the child in his arms, so he left the shop, kept his head down, and entered the square with the raised mako tanks.

It didn't take long to find the purple library, ornate decor lining every inch lacking a book. 

“Welcome to Maghnata books! Are you searching for anything specific today or just taking a look around?”

Sephiroth adjusted the girl in his arms, the smallest of fuss leaving the leather. “I need some advice…”

The woman gasped, holding her hands over her mouth. “Oh my gods, she's adorable! How old is she?”

“Half a year…” He debated deliberately giving the wrong age, but he couldn’t risk inaccurate or invalid information. 

“Oh a six month old, eh? That’s when they start moving. No wonder you came to us! Here-” The lady ran out from behind the counter. “What’s your budget?”

“A hundred Gil…”

She grabbed her chin. “Hm. I don’t know if we have any parenting books that cheap... Let me ask my manager.”

He should leave. He didn’t have time for this. He’ll just figure it out on his own. “We’re on a tight schedule…” 

“Just one minute! I insist!” She rushed to the back without another word.

The man let out a sigh, counting the seconds in his head. The bundle in his arms made more noise. “Shh. Not now. Soon, okay?”

She nodded, her lids scrunched tightly.

“FOUND IT!” The door busted open, the cashier holding up a thick, dusty volume titled: So you're a PARENT now, huh? What to expect from your little ones from first light to the terrible twos. ‘PARENT’ was written in the SOLDIER font. “My manager’s been trying to get rid of this for years. Not a single yard sale worked! That’ll be eighty five Gil, please.”

He immediately made the exchange, tucking the remainder of the cash and the book into the reusable bag. 

“Have a pleasant day!”

“Thank you…”

He slipped through the entrance without another word, immediately spotting Shinra troops on the other side of the square. He didn’t have a lot of time, keeping his head down and maneuvering through the crowd until he completely lost sight of them. 

The badlands were safer than any town. Instead of risking the same location, he immediately veered off the road, climbing the steep cliffs on his left. An owl hooted and flew past him. Once he saw the chocochick return to his side and urge him up the plains, he knew it was safe. 

“Okay, Seraphina. You can open your eyes.” 

He was immediately struck with her gaze, her brows nearly furrowed and her face squeezed. 

“What's wrong?”

She curled in on herself, small whines leaving her lips.

He didn’t know what to do as the whines only grew louder. Was she in pain? How? From what? He spotted a crevasse in the cliffs and dashed. The owl once again circled and hooted, and he followed the glowing creature within. 

A lifespring, a font of Lifestream too useless for mako, and too useless to Shinra. The cliff surrounded all but the sky directly above. They were safe. No one should find them here.

“Seraphina.” He wasn’t sure how well she could speak, but he needed to know what was happening. 

“H-hurts…” She kept grabbing and gripping at her own chest. “H-hurts!”

Sephiroth dropped the bag and wrapped his arms around her. “Where? Where does it hurt?”

Tears dripped down her cheeks. She cried, covering her mouth tightly. 

He removed the bandages around her leg and found a fresh scar. The fabric rubbed against her and left raw skin in its wake. She didn’t need them anymore. Why didn’t she try to remove them? He held her close and she pressed her face against his coat, her screams muffling against him. 

…Signs point to lingering [REDACTED] in child’s body...

Minutes passed before the flare up finally fizzled, his child resting her head against his body and closing her eyes. 

“Dada…”

He didn’t know what to say. He just knew her pain. He knew he never wanted her to feel that again. “Better?” The single word was all that left his lips.

Another nod. 

He reached into the bag and grabbed a bottle, shaking it quickly. “Can you drink from a cup?”

She gave him a weird, tired look. Her stomach growled and she groaned again. 

He sat and placed her in his lap. He had to try, opening the cap and removing the inner seal. “Here. Drink.”

Seraphina placed her hands on the sides and tried to hold it. 

He lifted her back before adjusting the angle, slowly giving her a taste. 

Her eyes widened. No- not just her eyes- her pupils widened to saucers and she suddenly took desperate gulps.

He had to take it away so she wouldn’t choke. “Slowly.”

She pointed at the bottle and stared at him in confusion. 

“It’s a protein shake. Chocolate flavored.”

He may not have known much about children, but he knew the baby in his arms definitely wanted more. 

She drank half the bottle before her exhaustion caught up with her. Sephiroth did not miss a beat and took out the hoodie from the store. He slowly laid her inside the fuzzy lining, reducing his shard of coat as a pillow for her.

Despite everything, the peaceful look on her face brought a warmth to his heart he could never describe.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!

.

To be continued...

Chapter list here!

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 17 - Girls Just Want to Have Fun

IN THIS CHAPTER: A short roadtrip, blackmailing a jock, and Lady Di sends a signal [7.7k]

WARNINGS: andy the bully makes an appearance but nothing serious happens! lots of foreshadowing tho lol

A/N: shout out to my beloved @justahappycloud for vibechecking andy and dot's conversation for me! you're absolutely wonderful and i honest to god cannot believe i'm gonna hug you in a couple of days. i love you so so much, and i can't wait to tell you that in person. having said that, i'm gonna take a break from posting because i'm going on holiday! i'll still be around if you want to talk and i might leave... a couple of extras for you... you'll have to see! regular updates will return on friday, june 30th!

masterlist - prev - next | main playlist - chapter playlist

Oh, daddy dear, you know you're still number one But girls, they wanna have fun

Friday, May 23rd - 1986

Dorothy Burke couldn’t remember being this fucking angry in her entire goddamn life. She was pretty sure that if she were a cartoon character, steam would have been coming out of her ears the minute she heard Andy fucking Humphrey brag about getting an A in his latest AP Spanish pop quiz. She’d been watching him all week, eyes always stuck to his back during class, ears perking up when she heard his obnoxious cackle in the cafeteria, hands turning into fists when he’d “accidentally” tripped a quiet sophomore on his way to the bathroom. So when Mr. Lorenzo returned last week’s pop quizzes to them on Wednesday and praised him for “finally deciding to take his studies seriously” after she saw him cheat on the entire test, Dottie began plotting for revenge. Not because of the test, she didn’t give two shits about that and, of course, snitches get stitches. No, this one was for Gareth, and Dustin, and Donny, and Jeff, and any of the times he thought being Hawkins High royalty absolved him from sin. She’d make him pay. Not right now, but eventually he’d get what was coming to him. And it all began that Friday before finals week.

Her last class on Fridays was, thankfully, AP Spanish. Dottie planned everything to perfection, tested her escape route on Wednesday in case she needed a quick getaway, and asked her friends to wait until her Dad came to pick her up so she wouldn’t be caught alone in the parking lot if everything went to shit. Hellfire had been canceled because the boys had tickets to see Poltergeist II: The Other Side at 6 pm, but the props room they used as headquarters was unlocked in case she needed a place to hide for a bit. When the final bell of the day rang, she hurried to get her things in her bag and approached Andy’s desk with a sweet smile and shy act that she’d successfully tried on Fred earlier that week. Nancy had, of course, asked her what that had been about, but Dottie had simply told her that the less she knew, the better. The blue eyed girl had grinned with a weird sense of pride and left her to her devices without any more questions.

“Hi! Andy, right?” Dottie asked, carefully crafted honey dripping from her tongue.

“Who’s asking?” he said without looking up, still gathering his things.

“We’re in this class together, I sit over there,” she said, waiting until his eyes landed on her to point to her desk. She could feel his confused eyes scanning her: cute little dress, frilly socks, no Hellfire shirt, pearls in her ears. He has no idea who I am.

“Yeah, of course! I’ve seen you around,” he said, trying to hide the fact that he actually did not know who the fuck Dottie was. Sadly for him, it wasn’t working.

“I saw you did really well on the last pop quiz and I was wondering if you could help me out,” she widened her eyes a little bit to look more innocent and saw the corner of his mouth lift into a half smirk. God, men are so easy, she thought, remembering how Fred had rapidly blinked three times in a row when she pulled that move on him. “Can I see your answers, please?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Andy stammered, extremely confused but not about to complain if a pretty girl was making goo-goo eyes at him. Dottie wasn’t the type he usually went for; he liked them better skinny, tall and tanned, but there was a certain kind of charm to the girl-next-door type. “I could, y’know- I could help you study for the final, if you want.”

“Really? Wow, you’re so nice,” she pretended to fawn over him until he got the test out of his binder and gave it to her. The classroom was empty now. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about…”

“Go on,” he said, sitting on his desk to flirt back with her. “Ask me whatever you want, babe.”

Babe. Oh, he was gonna get it now. She had him right where she wanted, and all she had to do was reel him in. Channeling her inner devil, she came up to where he was sitting to stand between his open legs, hand resting on his knee.

“Anything I want?” she smiled, and he nodded. “Well, how about… you leave my friends alone for the rest of the year and I don’t tell Mr. Lorenzo you cheated on this?” she waved the test in the air.

“What?”

“See, you might not know who I am, but I know you, Andy,” she dropped the sweet act instantly, hard eyes on his. He looked so confused. “And last Wednesday, you made the mistake of letting me see you cheat. You even smiled at me while you did it. I gotta admit, it was the first time I saw someone write down the answers on the inside of a water bottle sticker, that shit was clever.”

“Who put you up to this?” he asked, rage beginning to catch up to his bewilderment. She had to get out of there, fast.

“I know you egged Gareth Coleman on Thursday after class. It would be a shame if Mr. Lorenzo found out about your little water bottle trick, don’t you think? You really need this A if you’re gonna keep that Division II scholarship you got to, where was it? Indiana Central?”

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he got up from his desk, getting in her face. He was barely an inch shorter than Eddie, and while the metalhead’s height had always been comforting for her, Andy’s was downright intimidating.

“And you’re a lousy cheater,” she retorted, grabbing the strap of her bag, ready to bolt out into the packed hallway.

“You have no proof.”

“Don’t I?” she said, pressing on her backpack where she’d tucked in an empty plastic bottle. It wasn’t even the correct brand, but he didn’t know that, and his eyes burned when he heard the crackling noise. “Stay away from the boys in the Hellfire Club. This is your only warning.”

And with that, she bolted straight to the girls’ bathroom at the end of the hallway before he could even think about reacting. This particular bathroom had two exits, and she took advantage of that knowledge to sprint across to the other door, past the labs, turning the corner to the Art room and out into the parking lot, where she immediately clocked her friends hanging out between Eddie’s van and Donny’s car, Dustin and Mike leaning onto their bikes while they talked. All the way across the parking lot, was Jason Carver’s car, where its owner and his friends were clearly waiting for one Andy Humphrey to arrive.

“Eddie!” she yelled through gritted teeth, trying to get his attention. “For the love of God, Eddie!”

“Hey, what’s- woah!” she threw herself on him and stuck her hand in his front jean pocket, getting his keys out and opening the van’s back doors before jumping inside with the haste of a madwoman. “Dot, what’s wrong?”

“I fucked up- close the fucking doors! If Andy sees me, we’re all dead!”

“Wait, what? What did Andy do now?” Donny asked, climbing into the back of the van behind her. The rest of the boys looked at each other before they too got in and closed the doors, separating themselves from the rest of the student body.

“He didn’t do anything, I just- I threatened to tell a teacher that he cheated on a test if he bothered you guys again.”

“You did what?!” Eddie asked, eyebrows raising to his hairline.

“I know! I know I fucked up, I was just so fucking angry! He thinks he’s untouchable and it’s about time someone showed him he’s not!”

“Okay, back up. What exactly did you do?” Dustin asked.

Dottie took a deep breath and began retelling the week’s events to the six boys that were surrounding her in the back of the van. The parking lot began to empty and only a few cars remained by the time she had finished but her Dad was still nowhere to be found. An uncomfortable silence settled between them while they took in the situation at hand.

“She can’t be alone anymore,” Mike said, looking at Eddie for guidance.

“You really think he’s gonna hit her?” Gareth asked with worried eyes.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Dustin said. “Do you think he’s gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“I didn’t tell him my name,” Dottie remembered. “They might not even know who I am, I mean, he didn’t and we’ve been in the same class for months.”

“You told him to leave Hellfire alone, it doesn’t matter if they don’t know you. They know us.”

“Shit, do you think we’re all gonna be targets now?” Jeff looked scared.

“You say that like we weren’t before,” Mike argued.

“We have to move in groups, we can’t let them catch us alone,” Donny said.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough!” Eddie raised his voice, cutting the chatter short. “You good, darling?”

“I didn’t mean to make them come after you,” she put her head in her hands. She’d been so angry that she didn’t stop to think how she might be making things worse with her well-intentioned actions. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re so not an idiot, come here,” he tucked her under his arm, squeezing her protectively. “You meant well but that’s not how these guys work. They are meatheads, you can’t reason with them.”

“So what do we do?” Jeff asked him.

“Donny’s right, we move in groups from now on. No one goes anywhere alone for the rest of the school year. We’ve got three more weeks and we’re done. Avoid the basketball team, keep your heads down,” Eddie turned to Mike and Dustin. “If anyone does anything to you, you come to me. You think Sinclair can help you two out?”

“We haven’t talked to Lucas in months,” Dustin admitted, looking a little ashamed.

“We don’t need him,” Mike dismissed his friend quickly. “We’ll stick with you guys.”

“Carver’s car is gone,” Gareth announced, peeking through a side window.

“Get home now, take the backroads,” Eddie opened the doors and heaved Dustin’s bike up from the concrete for him. “We’ll figure out pairs on Monday.”

“I’m sorry,” Dottie tried apologizing again, but Dustin went in for a hug.

“It’s okay. We’ve been through worse, I promise,” the younger boy smiled reassuringly.

“Besides, this means you’re officially one of the freaks now,” Mike said, successfully getting a low snort from her.

They said their goodbyes and Dustin and Mike climbed onto their bikes, speeding off the parking lot with impressive alacrity. Donny and Jeff sat themselves on the back of Eddie’s van, surveying the area. Only a couple of cars remained, mostly belonging to teachers. Gareth’s bus had already left, and Eddie offered to give him a ride before turning to Dottie.

“You sure your Dad’s coming?”

“Yeah, he said he was gonna get off early so we could go to Indy. Maybe he got held up at the office?”

“What are you going to Indy for?” Jeff asked.

“Prom’s in two weeks and I still don’t have a dress so hopefully I’ll find something there today or else I’m going naked.”

“Auditioning for Playboy at prom? That’s bold,” Gareth joked, and she immediately kicked his leg.

“Don’t get cute with me, Gareth, I know where you keep your porn.”

“We all know,” Donny said, leaning back on his arms. “He’s not very good at hiding it.”

“I bet his Mom knows too, she just pretends she hasn’t seen it,” Eddie snickered.

“Shut up!” Gareth jumped on Eddie, trying to wrestle him down to the dirty floor.

“Hey, whose car is that?” Jeff asked Donny and Dottie, completely ignoring the other boys yelping while play fighting between their rides. “It’s been there for like twenty minutes.”

“Must be a teacher’s,” Donny guessed. “I saw a pregnant lady come out of it earlier.”

“There aren’t any pregnant teachers.”

“Yeah? Then who’s that?” Donny pointed to the school doors where there was, indeed, a pregnant woman waddling towards the mystery car, another lady behind her searching through her big purse, probably trying to find her car keys.

Nothing could have prepared Dottie for what she was about to see when she turned, because never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she’d see two of her aunts casually strolling through the Hawkins High School parking lot towards a car neither of them owned, as evidenced by its Indiana “Wander” license plate. What on Earth-

“Auntie Rachel?” Dottie raised her voice, and the woman going through her purse looked up instantly, keys finally in her hand.

“Hey, there you are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” the woman now known as Rachel said, quickly changing paths and power walking towards them, heels clicking on the concrete. “Your Dad said you get off at two!”

“I do, I just got held up,” Dottie hurried to wrap her arms around her Auntie. “What are you doing here?”

“Your Dad called for backup and we honestly needed a girly weekend,” the pregnant woman said, one hand resting on her belly and the other one at her back, her flowy floral dress swishing around her ankles as she waddled closer to them.

“It’s the last time Mary Elizabeth’s gonna be able to get on a plane until Rose arrives so we spent all my miles and we’re taking you to Indianapolis for a shopping trip.”

“You came all the way to Hawkins to help me buy a prom dress?” Dottie said, disbelief painted all over her face.

“It’s your senior prom, baby,” Mary Elizabeth said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you really think we were gonna miss it?”

“Are these your friends?” Rachel asked, directing her attention to the gaggle of boys that were staring up at them.

Gareth still had Eddie in a loose headlock, both letting go of each other instantly when the women approached with curious smiles and mischievous eyes on their faces. Auntie Rachel was a tall severe looking woman with thick rimmed glasses and a classy bob. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, and she wore stylish pants and low heels - she looked as sophisticated as she was independent and open-minded. She was an accountant and many of her clients included investors that dabbled in the theater sphere, making her the one responsible for Dottie’s intense love of Broadway and musicals. She’d gone through a messy divorce around a year ago, had two boys (Nicky and Peter, ages 14 and 10), and had recently realized that maybe all those times Dottie had begged her to go see Rocky Horror together had been more enlightening than she had assumed they had been at the time.

Aunt Mary Elizabeth - not Mary, not Elizabeth, Mary Elizabeth - on other hand was the poster child for the 70’s hippie movement. What Rachel gave off in casual formality, Mary Elizabeth matched in cozy comfort with her sleeveless prairie style dress and sandals, baby bump proudly on display under the soft flowery pattern. She was married to Uncle Johnny, the same Uncle that Dottie had gone to for advice regarding Eddie’s moldy ceiling, and Rose, who was currently softly kicking her, was their first baby. She hadn’t been born yet but was very much expected and hard fought for.

“This is Hellfire! Guys, these are my Aunts: Rachel and Mary Elizabeth. Plus Rosie,” Dottie said, excited as always whenever her worlds collided.

“Which one of you is giving my niece latkes with applesauce?” Rachel asked, looking at them over the rim of her glasses.

“Uh, that- that’d be me. I’m Gareth,” the curly haired boy said, nervously.

“You’re my fave kid,” Rachel declared, nodding once.

“She’s Jewish,” Dottie said, like that explained everything and to Gareth, it did. “She’s never cooked for me though.”

“You know I can’t cook, my kids don’t even let me make toast,” she laughed, and the boys smiled. So Rachel is the fun aunt.

“Okay, then who is the one that makes those great mixtapes you were talking about the other day?” Mary Elizabeth wondered.

“I guess that’s me?” Donny chuckled, the tips of his ears red. “I’m Donny. Congrats on the baby!”

“Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart,” she said. “He’s my fave.”

“Which one’s yours then, bug?” Rachel joked.

“Definitely Jeff,” Dottie said and the boy beamed.

“Hey! I’m right here!” Eddie complained dramatically.

“You’re Eddie, right?” Mary Elizabeth said; he nodded. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, you’re my husband’s favorite.”

“I am?”

“Yes! My husband was our DM, he thinks you’re very creative.”

“She’s married to Uncle Johnny,” Dottie told him. “The one that was in the bathroom picture from when I was a baby?”

“Ah, yes! Your Dad’s brother from a different father!” Eddie clapped once, knowing he got it right. “He knows about me?”

“Dorothy tells him about all your sessions,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Half of our friends don’t live in New York anymore so we haven’t played as much lately, he’s living vicariously through you guys at this point.”

“It’s great to meet you boys, but we should get going. We’re never gonna get to the shops in time if we keep dilly dallying,” Rachel said, ushering the girls towards the car.

“Okay, let me say goodbye first, damn,” Dottie got away from her insistent palms and headed straight into Donny’s arms. “I’m sorry about today.”

“Stop worrying about it. We’ll take care of each other.”

“You’re one of us, Dot. We got you,” Jeff said, joining the hug too. Gareth and Eddie looked at each other, shrugged once, and joined too.

“Go get your princess dress,” Eddie said, pulling away, not wanting to be clingy in front of her Aunts.

“Call when you get back?” Gareth asked as she walked away. “I wanna know what you got to see if we match!”

“When are you gonna be home?”

“Uhhh, around 8:30 maybe?”

“Gotcha. I’ll call around that time. Have fun, guys!”

“We’re still on for tomorrow, right?” Eddie wondered.

“Of course! Final stretch, Ed, you got this!”

Dottie got into the backseat of her Aunts’ rented car and waved to her friends as they sped away, Pat Benatar’s Invincible filling the air with girlish excitement. Andy fucking Humphrey didn’t matter anymore, not when Mary Elizabeth was singing along to the radio without a single care in the world and Rachel laughed like they were in their 20s again heading down to the beach in her brother’s old Jeep. All that was left, was to find the perfect dress and Dottie could finally convince herself that despite her major fuck up, everything would turn out fine.

They could not, in fact, find the perfect dress. They couldn't find any dress, actually, because if they were the right color, the size was wrong, and if the size was right, then it didn't come in Hellfire colors. Auntie Rachel had announced she was paying for the dress, and Aunt Mary Elizabeth and Uncle Johnny were paying for the shoes. But without the dress, there were no shoes, and without dress and shoes, Dottie couldn't spend the money her Dad had given her on accessories, and every minute that ticked on, she was closer and closer to auditioning for a Playboy centerfold at prom like Gareth had joked about.

Everyone was aware that prom was a sensitive topic for Dottie, and there wasn’t a single reason as to why it was that way. Past bad experiences coupled with the knowledge of yet another milestone she wasn’t sharing with her mother were bound to make anyone’s heart feel tender, so after Rachel noticed the decline in her niece's mood, she declared that they were taking a break from the prom-related shopping and instead let Dottie pick any shop in the immediate commercial area to explore. This wasn't an unusual activity for the girls; they had spent many afternoons browsing weird stores and open air markets, gathering silly little trinkets and handmade goods to bring back to their homes with tired feet and satisfied smiles. Dottie looked around mildly interested and clocked a big thrift shop with what looked like a comfy red couch in the middle of the store to her right, deciding to go in so Mary Elizabeth could rest her swollen ankles for a bit.

The shop was quirky, to say the least. Dottie loved thrift shops, having spent most of her early childhood browsing through rows and rows of clothes picking new tops and bottoms for the school year. Mary Elizabeth knew how to sew, and she'd taught Dottie basic skills like how to hem pants or how to tighten up the waistband on a too-big-skirt - a thrift shop was a treasure trove for creative and resourceful eyes. Rachel was distracted showing Mary Elizabeth baby clothes while the latter rubbed her growing belly on the couch when Dottie saw it. Red glittering chiffon, sweetheart neckline with delicate ruffles at the top and the bottom, and a full skirt that looked straight out of a fairytale.

A few years ago, back in 1982 when she was barely a freshman in high school, Dottie had seen in one of her Auntie Rachel's magazines a picture of one of the prettiest women she had ever laid eyes on. The woman was Lady Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales, and the magazine had run a full issue about her style and fashion choices, calling her an icon and praising her usage of patterns and bold colors. She remembered that in one of the pictures, Lady Diana had been wearing a red Bellville Sassoon dress during a night out at Covent Garden, and that she'd found it so beautiful she'd asked Rachel if she could keep the magazine because she wanted to wear a dress like that one day. That same dress, or one that looked very much like it, was currently staring back at Dottie from the very back of a rack full of poofier and tackier formal dresses.

"Found something you like, bug?" Rachel asked, coming to stand behind her with her hands on her niece's shoulders.

"I think... I think Lady Di is sending me a signal," she muttered breathlessly.

"What?"

Dottie walked up to the rack, almost scared to touch the dress in case it disappeared, but when her fingers buried themselves into fine chiffon, she pulled the dress off the hanger and pressed it to her body in awe.

"It's the dress, Auntie Rach. Remember? The Lady Di Covent Garden gown! With the black cape and silver shoes!"

"I can't say I remember, bug, but you like this one? Do you want to try it on?"

"I can't see a tag," Dottie said, frowning. "I don't know if it's my size."

"Go try it on anyway, we'll find an employee," Mary Elizabeth said, getting excited at the prospect of having found a miracle dress.

It was mere minutes later when both Aunts and an older lady that worked at the store wearing khaki pants and a name tag that said Cynthia heard a soft "holy shit" coming from behind one of the changing booth's curtains. It opened to reveal a dumbfounded Dottie, looking like a princess herself in the floor-length glittery gown.

"How does it fit, sweetie?" asked Cynthia.

"It's... it's perfect? The skirt is a little bit long but everything else is... yeah, it's perfect."

"Never mind the skirt, I can hem that for you in a couple of hours. And it's red, just how you wanted, right?" Mary Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, it's the shade of red I wanted," Dottie said. The dress was the exact same shade of Eddie's tie. "How much is it?"

"I don't think we put a price on this one yet," Cynthia said. "It came in late yesterday and I haven't gotten around to it. This woman came in and dropped three boxes full of stuff on us, said she was moving away and couldn't take everything with her. You’re a really lucky girl!”

“I think I am,” Dottie mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror while she lifted the skirt up to fit her better.

“Okay, how about we go see if there’s anything else you like while Rachel gets this sorted out for you, huh? Maybe we can find some cute shoes to go with it!” said Mary Elizabeth, staring pointedly at Rachel with a clear message: Get her the dress before she can overthink it and convince herself she doesn’t deserve it because the price isn’t right.

With the help of Mary Elizabeth (and Rosie, who was being very active today), a full outfit was put together rather quickly. A gold round sparkly handbag was added to the pile, along with gold kitten heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single white glittery stone. Dottie knew exactly what other pieces from her own jewelry box she was gonna wear: her Mom’s wedding ring and earrings, simple, classy, and meaningful. A way to keep Margaret close on a very special moment. Also on their checkout pile were a handful of baby clothes for Rosie, a Spider-Man backpack for Rachel’s youngest son, a couple of 70s loose dresses for Mary Elizabeth’s growing belly, and a pair of jean shorts and two new shirts for Dottie. She saved a bit of the money James had given her to buy more yarn for the blanket she was knitting for Rose, and after all that shopping, the three girls were hungry and desperately in need of a place to sit down. Rachel pointed to a nearby pub that looked fairly empty, and they made their way towards the building with happy hearts and spirits thoroughly lifted.

While Dottie was on her girls’ day out, Eddie was fidgeting in his theater seat. He knew that he was gonna have to share her with her Aunts all weekend, and he was scared about what they’d think of him constantly invading her personal space. They looked nice enough, and he was aware that Rachel herself was a bit of a freak - she had, after all, seen Rocky Horror live as many times as Dottie herself had -  but there was still some part of him that kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things were going entirely too well for him, and he wasn’t used to that.

During the week, he’d tested out a few more theories he had about Dot and was now more certain than ever that he had an opening with her. It had been rainy and cold on Monday, and he’d slipped the flannel he had tied around his hip on her shoulders before second period began; she’d worn it all day and he’d caught her burrowing into it during lunch while she waited for him to get his tray. On Tuesday, she’d brought Wayne homemade banana bread, and on Thursday, she’d asked Eddie to hang out in their spot at Lover’s Lake for a bit before bringing her home, saying she needed to clear her head. They’d sat side by side with legs dangling off the back of his van, and he’d tried teaching her to skip stones to no success. She’d snorted every time the rock sank into the water, and leaned into him when he stepped behind her and grabbed her hand to guide her through the correct motions. He would have kissed her right there and then, but he was convinced she deserved more than a lousy confession in a deserted clearing in the middle of the woods. So Eddie waited, knowing that graduation was only three Fridays away, and he was gonna sweep her off her feet while they wore their ugly black and green gowns and make her feel like the princess he thought he was.

Truth be told, he shouldn’t have been so worried, not when 45 minutes away Dottie sat in that Indianapolis pub, eyes glued to the small menu in her hands but mind in Hawkins, wondering what Eddie was gonna wear for prom besides the gorgeous tie Chrissy had gifted him. She was comparing pros and cons of him wearing a white or a black shirt when Rachel tapped the top of the laminated paper and brought her attention back to the table.

“Can’t decide?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dottie said, sheepishly. “Which one do you think is better, the cheeseburger with bacon or the chicken stripes with BBQ sauce?”

“The cheeseburger sounds good. I’m getting the buffalo wings,” Mary Elizabeth said, rubbing her stomach. “Believe it or not, this girlie likes spicy things.”

“She’s gonna run circles around all of us,” Rachel said fondly. “I’m gonna get the Reuben. And a glass of wine.”

“Okay, I’ll go order then. Lemonade?” Dottie asked Mary Elizabeth, getting up to head into the bar area.

“Oooh, please!”

Dottie left her Aunts at the table with their shopping bags, and got in line at the register behind a middle aged man while she glanced around the pub. It was a good size, probably even a bit bigger than The Hideaway where she’d gone to play pool with her Dad and Uncles Rob and Joe while they were in town for her birthday. There was a jukebox near the entrance, and a low small stage to the right with a lone mic and stool. A tired looking young man was putting up a poster advertising the weekend’s shows near the bar area. It was a cozy place, probably a cheap hangout spot for college students to relax at after a long week of studying and working. Behind the bar counter was an attractive young woman with wild, crimped raven hair and bold makeup.

“What can I get for you?”

“Hi! Can I get a cheeseburger with bacon, a Reuben, buffalo wings, two lemonades and a glass of wine? Red, please.”

“Uh, you’re not over 21, are you?”

“No, I’m 18, but it’s not for me. It’s for my Aunt, we’re sitting over there,” Dottie pointed at the two older women.

“Good. I’ll get a server to bring you your order when it’s done. Normally I wouldn’t care about the age thing, but it’s still kinda early, y’know?” the girl said, punching a few buttons on the till. “Gotta wait until the sun goes down to start ignoring IDs.”

“I imagine most college kids around here are grateful for that, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, it gets busy after 8. You don’t go to IUPUI?”

“No, I’m not from Indy. I’m going to Michigan next year.”

“State?”

“UMich. You?”

“Final year at Purdue. Forensic science,” she shrugged. “You look like an English major.”

“That was my second choice, actually. Decided on being an elementary school teacher.”

“Yikes. Good luck with that,” the girl laughed. “I’m the oldest of six so kids… not my jam.”

“I’m an only child so, kids? Totally my jam.”

“Figures. I’m Jessie,” the girl said, putting out her hand for a shake. Her dark apron moved revealing half of a logo on the front of her shirt Dottie would recognize anywhere: Metallica.

“I’m Dottie. I’ve got a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“How do I get a really cool band up on that stage?”

“You in a band, teach?” Jessie grinned.

“No, my friends are. They’ve got a regular gig in our town, I think you might like them.”

“Yeah? What’s their name?”

“Corroded Coffin. They play metal covers mostly, but they’ve got a few originals too.”

“You their manager or something?”

“Maybe,” Dottie smiled. “I know next week’s setlist if that helps convince you.”

“Go for it.”

Dottie began ratting off the list she’d heard them put together on Wednesday, which included Black Sabbath, Mötorhead, Judas Priest, Dio, and the lone Anthrax song Gareth had insisted on for ten minutes before they relented and said yes. She mentioned how they also played Metallica and Iron Maiden regularly, and were known to crank out a Mötley Crüe song or two upon request without admitting that she was the one doing the requesting, much to Eddie’s chagrin. Jessie listened, nodding approvingly with her arms crossed. She had a snake tattooed around her left upper arm peeking out from her black t-shirt, and Dottie thought it might be the coolest tattoo she’d seen in her entire life.

“Okay, teach. I’m convinced. Let me see when we’ve got an opening.”

Jessie grabbed a battered notebook from under the counter and pulled a pen out of her apron, quietly muttering to herself as she flicked pages. Dottie turned to her Aunts who were eyeing her with interest. The Dorothy they knew didn’t talk to strangers, at least not willingly. She hated small talk, only engaging in it if an old lady started it in order to not come across as rude, but had developed the ability to quickly direct the conversation to non-personal topics like the weather or the price of the bag of oranges the old lady was purchasing. Seeing their niece chit chatting like it was something common she did all the time was downright strange, even if it was a welcome sight. How much had living in Hawkins truly changed her? Did it have anything to do with the boys hanging out with her in the school’s parking lot?

“Earliest spot we’ve got is at the end of June,” Jessie said, grimacing.

“Oh, that’s perfect! That’s after graduation, we’re totally free during June.”

“Friday, June 27th is okay then?”

“Absolutely, yes!”

“We can pay $25 per performer and you can have free drinks all night, but we’ll cut you off if anyone gets too drunk. How many are there in the band?” she asked, writing Corroded Coffin under the aforementioned date.

“Just four. Two guitarists, one drummer, one bassist. We have to bring our own equipment, right?”

“Yeah, all that’s on you. Are you all under 21?”

“Yes, lead guitar is the oldest and he’s 20.”

“They’ve got one hour divided into two chunks with a ten minute break in the middle, shows start at 9:30 usually. You’re coming with them? We can pay you after the set’s done, I’ll keep a free table for you guys at the front. You can watch them from there, we don’t have a green room.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you, Jessie.”

“Here,” Jessie gave her a napkin with the bar’s info. “Call that number if you need to cancel or reschedule. If they tell you I’m not around, ask for Mark, he’s the day shift manager.”

“Okay, I will. See you in a month then! They won’t disappoint you, I promise!”

“I’m counting on it, teach!”

She came back to the table with an unprecedented giddiness, or at least, nothing her Aunts had ever seen in a long time. Dottie explained her conversation with Jessie the night shift manager while they waited for their food, and when it had arrived, her Aunts grilled her for more information about her friends and their band. She explained what each of them did within Corroded Coffin, taking the time to praise them separately for their skills, mentioning Eddie’s recent songwriting knack and Gareth’s future career as a trained percussionist. She told them in confidence that Jeff was thinking of joining a choral ensemble in West Virginia, excited about the prospect of traveling to perform around the States. Her Aunts let her talk as much as she wanted until the sun had gone down, the college students started showing up, and after a quick bathroom visit, it was finally time for them to leave. They were walking back to the car when Dottie spotted a payphone and began rummaging through her backpack.

“Hold on, let me- I gotta make a phone call!” she told her Aunts, speeding away towards the cabin with her coin purse in her hand.

“Do you get the feeling someone exchanged our Dorothy for a new one?” Rachel asked, following her niece at a much slower pace.

“She’s happy here,” Mary Elizabeth simply said.

“Did you ever notice she was that unhappy back in New York? What was going on under our noses? How couldn’t we tell?”

“That doesn’t matter now. Let her have this. She deserves it.”

“Hello, Mrs. Coleman? It’s Dottie!” the teen said into the phone, both Aunts trying to eavesdrop from outside the cabin. “I know Gareth is still at The Hawk, but could you tell him to come to my house as soon as he arrives? Everything’s okay, I just have good news I want to share with him. Yes, thank you! And could you please tell him to bring the guys around too? I think I’ll be home at around 9 probably, so- okay. Okay, thank you! Sorry to have bothered you at this hour, have a good night!”

“Your friends are coming over?” Rachel asked when she hung up.

“Yeah,” Dottie grinned, and for a brief second, they could have sworn it wasn’t her but Margaret the one who was smiling at them.

A girl’s road trip was never complete without gossiping, and Rachel was showing an incredible amount of restraint when she waited until they had passed the "Leaving Indianapolis - Come Again Soon" sign to lower the radio's volume; Mary Elizabeth looked at her with confusion in her eyes when Madonna’s Angel was cut short halfway into the song.

"So. We've got 45 minutes until we’re back in Hawkins. Gonna tell us what's going on with that Gareth kid or what?"

"Rachel!" Mary Elizabeth chastised.

"There's literally nothing going on. I don't know why you're even asking."

"You called last week to tell me all about the little sleepover you two had and you expect me to not be curious? You’ve been talking about him all day, bug."

"As you know, because I told you about it, we worked on a science project during that sleepover, which we got an A+ on. That's it, I don't see him like that," Dottie said. "Besides, we'd kill each other if we decided to date. He made me see The Exorcist last weekend, I would have murdered him if I didn’t fear prison."

"Hey, that's a good movie!" Mary Elizabeth said, and Rachel looked at her like she was insane. "What? Okay, yes, it's disturbing, but it's a good movie. It's well done."

"You worry me sometimes," Rachel told her before looking at Dottie through the rearview mirror. "You two had a movie night and he picked a horror flick?"

"It wasn't just us. Everyone else was there too, it was Eddie's birthday."

"Aw, that sounds fun. Did you have a good time?" Mary Elizabeth asked, turning in her seat to watch her niece's face.

"Yeah! I mean, the movie sucked and I think I had a panic attack for two hours straight, but we had ice cream later and saw Rocky Horror. That part was good,” she had a wistful look on her face as she looked out the window, remembering Eddie’s birthday.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Actually, everything's been really nice," Dottie laughed. "I just… I didn't know having friends was supposed to make you feel this good."

"Oh, baby," Mary Elizabeth reached out to grab her hand. "You really love those boys, don't you?"

"I do. And I really think they love me too. I don't feel lonely anymore when I’m with them."

"That's good, baby. I'm so happy for you. We were so scared after what happened last year, that awful girl was just-"

"It doesn't matter anymore,” Dottie shook her head. “I don't want to talk about that."

"So nothing's going on?" Rachel asked, but this time her tone was much more soft. “With any of them?”

"They are my friends. Best ones I've ever had," Dottie smiled. “I’d tell you if something was happening with Gareth, but there’s nothing there. I promise.”

“If you say so, bug,” Rachel said. “Johnny was once Mary Elizabeth’s best friend too, you know.”

“Oh, drop it, you nosy old lady,” Mary Elizabeth poked her.

“Who are you calling old?! We’re the same age, flower power!”

During the short trip back to Hawkins, somewhere between being grilled about one of her best friends and Rachel missing the correct exit, Dottie had dozed off in the back of the car while Sade’s Smooth Operator played in the background. Mary Elizabeth had taken off her sandals and propped her feet up on the dashboard, looking out at the quaint little houses and quiet downtown area, wondering if Rosie would like growing up in a place like this instead in the busy city she was so fond of. Rachel pulled into Dottie’s street and saw a familiar old van parked outside her home, four boys hanging out in the front lawn and James leaning onto the front door frame, all engaged in friendly conversation.

“Baby?” Mary Elizabeth called, rousing Dottie. “Your friends are here.”

Dottie opened her eyes, expression caught between drowsiness and excitement when they parked outside the house, all five men turning to look at them when they got out.

“Shopping went well, I see,” James smiled, looking at their bags dangling from their arms.

“Told you to leave it to us, Jamie-boy,” Rachel said, coming to hug her old friend.

“Everything okay?” Gareth asked, anxious. “My Mom didn’t tell me what was going on, just that you called from Indy.”

“Everything’s fine, something really cool happened and I didn’t want to wait until Monday to tell you about it,” Dottie yawned, locking arms with him and Donny. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you.”

The boys walked in behind her towards the living room where she motioned for them to sit. The adults headed towards the kitchen for a nightcap, keeping an eye and an ear on the kids. James had no idea what was going on, but Rachel had simply shaken her head when he lifted his eyebrow in inquiry and pointed at the teens. Mary Elizabeth busied herself making coffee for her two friends and tea for herself, smiling in anticipation.

“Okay, so. We went to this pub to get dinner,” Dottie began, taking the napkin Jessie had given her out of her pocket and giving it to Jeff. “It’s a really cool place, not too big, but I really liked it and the food was great.”

“What did you have?”

“Cheeseburger with bacon. They cut their own fries and leave the skin on them.”

“Sick,” Jeff nodded.

“I was thinking we should all go together soon. Maybe on Friday, June 27th.”

“Why?” said Gareth suspiciously. “What’s happening on Friday, June 27th?”

“There’s this awesome band that’s gonna play there. You might have heard of it, it’s called Corroded Coffin.”

The room was filled with an awkward silence for a few seconds while they processed what they just heard before all of them erupted in questions and screams at the same time. Dottie laughed, and held up her palms trying to contain the situation, but the cat was out of the bag and she was all too happy to share all the details with her friends.

“You got us a gig?” Donny asked, coming up to her in disbelief.

“I got you a gig!” she confirmed, and Gareth began hollering. “You’ve got an hour-long set, divided in two chunks. Drinks are free the whole night but you can’t drunk, and they’re gonna pay you guys $25 each-”

“They are paying us?!” Jeff asked while Gareth shook him. “They never pay us at The Hideout!”

“You’re the fucking best!” Donny declared, lifting Dottie up and swinging her in the air, making her laugh.

“That’s so cool,” James said in the kitchen, browsing his pantry for sugar to add to his coffee. “I’m happy for them, they are good kids.”

Rachel and Mary Elizabeth didn’t reply; they were locked onto the scene in front of them. When Donny put Dottie down, Jeff and Gareth immediately came to hug her too, each on one side. They all began talking at the same time, shouting songs they wanted to include in the set, things they needed to do before the big day arrived, planning how they were gonna go, who was gonna drive, how much money they needed to pool to pay for the gas. None of that was as interesting as what happened when it was Eddie’s turn to hug their niece.

He was so quiet as he came up to her, it almost looked like he was choking back tears. Without words exchanged, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her towards his chest where she instantly tucked her head into, her own hands ghosting upwards from his waist to the middle of his back where she clung to his shirt. This wasn’t an excited, celebratory hug. This was so much more, and yet none of the boys paid them any attention, like this was common enough for it to not be something to look at anymore. Eddie’s hand came up to cradle her head, and they pulled away for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes with matching elated smiles pulling at the corners of their mouths. For a single heartbeat, Dottie’s Aunts thought Eddie was going to pull her into a kiss but his lips collided with her forehead instead and stayed there like it was their rightful place. Dottie exhaled, melting into the rugged boy’s arms, their eyes closed, both of them savoring the moment. His hand moved from the back of her head to the side of her jaw, foreheads coming together and they saw her hand wrap around his wrist before the boy mouthed a quiet “thank you”.

Like nothing had happened, they unentangled themselves from each other and joined the festivities, him excitedly patting Donny’s back before they embraced with boyish roughness, her plopping onto the same armchair Jeff was sitting on to help brainstorm the setlist. Rachel turned to Mary Elizabeth only to find her friend already staring at her.

“Oh,” Mary Elizabeth said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, indeed,” said Rachel, and they both silently agreed to not speak of it in front of James until they’d gotten their chance to debrief later that night.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean

[ozrockbitway]

If it's not a bother to ask but do you have any like character headcannon's for older characters and new characters in Cfv?

(sorry if I'm bothering or anything.)

dont worry you're good!! idk what characters you wana hear from me so I will just. grab some favs. holds them at you.

OG

Ren - He's like...some wealthy rich kid. I like to think he's an heir and supposed to inherit some company but he's never taken the thing seriously. He'll never talk about his family tho, mostly his dad, his mother left him and Ren doesn't remember her.

tbh I don't think anyone knows he's like rich lol. Maybe Asaka and Tetsu but he doesn't really act the type?? Maybe he throws money around...at cards mostly but man does not live that lavish lifestyle.

Probably gets cut off some funds when he's an adult but idk I can see him saving money or finding a way to have cash so he's p set doing...whatever it is he does as an adult (pre branch chief).

I joked once that he could probably get away with working anywhere and I kinda believe it?? Man says he works here and can play it off like nothing but only works one day and is never seen again...

Would randomly crash into his homies places in the middle of the night. You're sleeping? No problem. Ren is there, maybe grabbing something from the fridge before sleeping on the couch or the bed. It's impossible to Ren proof your home.

Asshole would 100% pick a random box from a cardshop and it has the most expensive Shadow Paladin card in it. Doesn't even need Psyqualia this just happens naturally.

Aichi - He's good with speaking other languages like...he knows the words/phrases/whatever to say but thinking isn't the same as speaking. So he usually trips over his words. Can translate very well just give him a sec so he doesn't mess up words.

100% a lil bookworm. Didn't have a lot of friends in his youth so he turned to books. That was like his escape fantasy along with thinking of Vanguard.

No matter how much more confident he is in his older years...he still struggles with public speaking. Please don't make him go up and talk to the crowd...he's so nervous...

Likes to send Emi and his mom gifts!! Little things from traveling. Would send Emi ocean/mermaid related things and I think in a note somewhere his mom plays Vanguard too (I think it was something to do with hot men?? let it be touken ranbu...) he'll send her things related to what she plays and just whatever she wants lol

G

Kazumi - Hates his family lmao. He's on bad terms with his father and is a little better with his mom but not really. The only good one in his fam was Kazuma (pleading emoji).

Knows how to conceal his true feelings p well?? He has to in the business world and around his parents. So he'll bottle up things a lot. His more childish side peeks through usually during Vanguard or when he's around people he knows he can relax with.

Wants to learn how to cook and kinda be on his own?? He doesn't want to rely on his family's wealth and probably only uses it for housing, away from the main house, but he wants to be able to live on his own and not follow the family name.

Has a lil...dragon collection. Maybe it's cuz of Shiranui but I like to think he collects little dragon trinkets. Please don't let him go off about his collection because he will. Also is v proud of it.

Mamoru - He doesn't make dad jokes, other people make dad jokes for him!! He takes care of Ryuzu and just kinda...adopted him?? Yeah the whole association is supposed to take care of him but legally he is Mamoru's kid.

He needs to take better care of himself. Probably eats fast food or whatever the dragon empire cafeteria has that's quick and can be found sleeping at his desk, especially during the heavier seasons. Tokoha usually helps him out but he's gotten a little better at it.

Probably would have been like...a teacher or something in that field if he wasn't doing Vanguard. That wouldn't be his go to or something he aspired at first but that's what he would have settled upon.

Somehow knows everyone. Could say hi to someone on the street and has seen/spoken to them before. I like to think he's kinda famous cuz of his status and all the stuff he does but like...a lot of locals know him too. Support the community!!

Overdress

Yuyu - Ends up going to the student council because of Raika lol. I don't think he'd go for any of the president or VP seats but would do something like secretary or treasurer.

Would go out of state for college!! He wants to be a pro Vanguard fighter but wants to get a degree for his fam. His sisters all have degrees so baby boy has to do it to!!

Probably genderfluid. tbh? Doesn't mind dressing up as feminine but doesn't quite like the frilly dresses his sisters pick out for him. I think he'd like more of the androgynous stuff.

He's not into max rarity for his decks. He pulls like 1 SP/FFR and is like aight cool. At most he'd would make his sideline bling but wouldn't go insane over it. Also he's a high schooler so he has no budget for this lskfjds

Tohya - Got disowned from his fam. Or at least kicked out of his house due to dropping out of med school. Homie was on his way to the big doctor leagues and then...gives it up for silly cardboard?? Yeah no his fam ain't having that bye bye.

He didn't finish school yeah but tbh he could be like...a roaming doctor. I think he was the top of his class and he knows his shit (and probably studies up on the side but not that much) so he knows what's up. Charges you with a cardfight instead of money. help him.

Stopped eating ramen for a while. Man was traumatized by the ramen challenge. It's okay he got over it and he can eat cup noodles on his own now.

He travels a lot but I like to think he p much lives at Danji's old place?? So if you wana catch him he usually goes back there. He can't officially leave because he has to take care of the turtle. Granted some Blackout members do if he can't but!! turtle is his responsibility.

[fluffydavey]

a prompt thing!

davey is sick and doesn’t show up to sell (or modern au to school/work/etc)

i'm distracting myself with writing so feel free to send me any prompts and i will try my best to write them!! &lt;3

At first, they barely notice anything is wrong. Davey's back in school, but he's continued selling papes with the boys in the evenings and at the weekends. Although Davey had been a quick learner in the early days, he's becoming slower and he looks distracted.

It's brushed off with jokes, until Davey doesn't even have the energy to respond. "Sore throat," he musters, and Jack sends him home and promises to give their equal share to Les when he gets home that evening. He doesn't think much of it - the cold New York winters are harsh, especially during your first time selling in Demeber, and Davey looks like a strong gust of wind could knock him over on the best of days.

He walks Les home that night, refusing a dinner proposal again, and bids the younger boy goodbye and shouts out "make sure that brother of yours doesn't skip out on any more hard work!"

But Davey doesn't show up the next day, and neither does Les. Nor do they show up for three more days after that. Jack gets tired of waiting for the boys with no answer. He climbs up the fire escape to try and get into David's room, when he sees the outlines of tall figures looming in the background.

"He's burning up," one of the men say, leaning over Davey's bed. "Hot to the touch!"

He tries to make it through another window, when he's blocked by Sarah. "You can't be here," she says, worry dripping from every word.

"Davey?"

"They say it's scarlet fever," she says, and Jack's read too many headlines about how it's been killing children all over the world. His heart sinks, feeling utterly hopeless.

"Les?" he asks, clinging onto some hope.

"He's okay, he's with our grandparents. They wanted me to go too, but I told them I wouldn't go anywhere without Davey," she says confidently. "He'll be okay Jack."

"I..."

She places an arm on Jack's shoulder, giving him a sad, knowing look. "I know, Jack."

"What happened?"

"He came home from school, and ma caught him coughing up blood into a handkerchief. She told him to rest, but he only got worse. He was getting sick, kept complaining about pains. I've never seen him like that before Jack, it was scary. I haven't been able to see him since," she says, and Jack can tell she feels as lost without Davey as he does. "Go back Jack, they won't let you anywhere near him. I'll let you know when there's news."

Jack knows better than to argue with Sarah, so he lets himself wander off, walking back to the lodgings on autopilot. He doesn't say anything when he returns, not sure how to break the news to all of their friends who had been waiting for Jack to turn up with the Jacobs' boys behind. Instead, their eager faces begin to fall, and Jack runs straight up to the penthouse. He tells them eventually, and the lodgings don't feel the same as they used to anymore, not without the infectious laugh that follows the two wherever they go.

It's a long week, until finally Davey and Les join the line to pay for their papers. It's Crutchie who spots them first, and the boys run to crowd their friends. Les looks like he's eating up every bit of fame it takes, although Jack can see the protective grip he has on his older brother's hand.

"What? You miss me?" Davey asks, as Jack watches him smiling at the sight before him.

"Don't do that again," Race says, barging in to be the first to give Davey a hug. "You had us worried sick. I couldn't win a game of cards for days."

"I'm sorry that I through you off, your game" Davey says, as Specs is the next person to hug him, Les still holding onto him with a strong clutch. "Guys, I'm okay. I swear. Got it all out of my system."

One by one the Newsies say their hellos, and get on with their days, but before he catches up with the two, he watches Davey divide his share with Les, giving the young boy a few more papes than usual. Jack joins them then, puts his satchel around his arm, and he tells Les to run ahead to some women in the park talking.

"You really scared me Dave," Jack says, and watches as Davey's eyes wander from his excitable brother to his selling partner. "I saw you one night, when the docs were all crowded round you. And I just kept dreaming that I'd wake up and you weren't with us no more."

"Hey, hey. Jack, it's me. I'm here. I'm here and I'm okay," Davey says, grabbing Jack's hand. There's no one too close by, so Davey seemingly decides to risk such a bold move. "I'm really sorry that I scared you like that, but it's okay now."

Jack looks down at their hands, and wishes he could capture this moment with his new paint. Instead, he begins to trace the lines on Davey's hands. "I was afraid you wouldn't know just how much you mean to me."

"Jack -"

"You can't go anywhere, okay? Because I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me crazy. I was too cowardly to say it before, but you've been it for me. And I've been crazy gone after you from the very beginning."

"Okay," Davey says, and Jack watches him.

"Okay?"

"Okay, I'll stay. Here with you, for as long as you'll let me."

Les runs up to them, dime in his hand before he looks at them both. "Gross. Come on, these papes won't sell themselves!"

Jack watches the kid run off, proud as punch, and he wraps an arm around Davey's shoulder, bumping into him. "One day I'll have you selling like him."

Davey pokes him in the side, before laughing to himself. "Oh shut up. You're the worse."

"You love it though."

"Yeah," Davey says, staring earnestly into Jack's eyes. "I really do."

[shadowscrybe]

Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 3

Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none- canon typical content

A/N: <3 We love a bitch who doesn't take shit from men!

Her fingers drummed on the deep oak table stretched across her and the young heir in the drafty hall of the Spring Court manor house. The grand emptiness of the room swallowed the sound of her impatient nails on the table top. The sticky sweet aroma of perpetual bloom invaded her nose like the overly scented bouquets of funerals. Even inside, the scent was going to make her sick.

A Summer Court fae had led Rayven to the room she currently sat in. She had offered the beautiful female a smile and name upon entering, but she was quick to shake her head and lead her to the room they had been waiting in. The highlord of Spring was nowhere to be found. 

Rayven had never actually been to the spring court before, but Tarin’s grand manor couldn't be mistaken. Significantly larger than its surrounding ramshackle homes of the spring court’s lesser fae. Many fae found refuge here after the war, but suffered loss so great they had been stranded here. They had no homes to go back to.

 The heir across from her was blonde, fair-skinned, with the young- boyish look that suggested he’d not yet lived a full human life like the boys had. He lounged in the seat to the right of the head of the table which had remained empty. The lords of the seasonal courts had not seemed to hold punctuality to a high regard. At least, not the same as their flora. 

She sent Rahne out to scope the massive hall as she readjusted in her seat, not at all accommodating for winged guests. She still hadn't learned to hide them on command as Rhys could. He had tried to teach her to use Rahne to pocket them, but her shadow could never sit still long enough for the task. 

The sun behind the young heir’s shoulders was a blinding reminder of his father’s poor time management. They agreed to meet before midday, and the sun was soon to crest into its afternoon descent. She needed to secure this deal and be back before dinner or the boys would start looking for her. 

In Tarin’s correspondence with the Night Court emissary, they had not understated the gravity of this meeting. He was under the impression that this meeting would be with Rhys. She’d make it up to him later. It wasn’t her fault the males here refused to verify whether they corresponded with females or not. 

But Rhys wouldn't have sat there as long as she had. Tarin would have shown up a minute late with Rhys’ commands delivered on the mouth of his pretty heir. But Rayven wasn't supposed to be here, so she waited. Her time was running short, though. 

“Do you have a more pressing engagement?” the heir asked. The first thing said since her arrival. She only knew she had been sitting with Tamlin based on Eris’ description. His eyes kept scanning the long dining room, as if tracking movements along the walls. Rayven let out a bored sigh to call him away from her inspecting shadow. Green eyes slid to her checking my nails. 

“I wish to secure the details and swiftly report back to the Highlord.” She feigned blind loyalty to the Highlord. “Tamlin, I presume? We haven't been formally introduced. I’m Rayven.”

The Highlord would never allow the news of Rava to escape the Night Court, so her reputation was a disguise. Officially, the Night Court only deployed the princess when absolutely necessary. Shadow fire was rare and feared even more. The Highlord only sends the demon when you’ve pissed him off, or he wants his word to be law. 

Really, he sent her when the boys were otherwise busy and what she needed to do was fairly simple. None of the lords she’d met with were aware of being slighted by the Highlord. And if any became wise to the disrespect, none of them voiced it. The Night Court was notoriously cruel among the gossip of the other courts and the Highlord would have it remain so. If I were to only be used as a last resort then my lack of presence was easily excused. 

Except today. Tamlin didn't flinch when she said her name. Rahne didn't send any warnings of apprehension. Either he had incredible mental shields, or he had no idea who she was. 

He glanced towards the doors. “Well, Rayven,” he chewed her name out. “We were set to meet at the end of the week. Suddenly we get a request to move up the meeting, and now without the Night Court’s heir. Then you show up bright and early, well on time, when everyone knows no one actually meets at first light.” 

“The Highlord has ordered the cooperation of our courts. This deal is paramount to the security of the human lands.” She forced my mouth into a smile like Rhys would. “You’ll forgive me for any anxieties as we navigate this delicate potential alliance.” 

His eyes rolled as she finished her sentence. “You're not supposed to be here,” he translated. 

She waited for his eyes to meet hers after his hundredth glance at the doors, like he was seeing through them. “And you have somewhere else to be.” 

She recalled Rahne back to report. Shifter, she warned in whispers over and over. 

His mouth pulled to the side in what was an almost smile. “Careful. I’d like to part with a Night Court emissary safely returned and the dinner table intact.”  His green eyes flashed bright.

He started as if to threaten this emissary again when he suddenly stiffened upright in his seat. His elbows snapped off the table and his chin tilted parallel. It almost looked like Rhys in the Highlord’s office. The double doors of the hall opened unceremoniously as the highlord of the spring court strode to his carved head seat. 

“Well?” the thick man questioned as if she had been the one wasting his time.

Her power swelled in the pit of her stomach. She needed to be wise to get what she wanted, but her fuse was shorter than her patience. She had never seen the spring court’s highlord, but I suspected him to look like his pretty heir. The blonde hair is where the resemblance stopped. The eyes were green, but they lacked the light Tamlin had. 

Rahne started to pull tighter around her ankle, her warning sign of impending conflict. 

She attempted a smile at the reeking alpha male staring down at her. “Thank you for being so accommodating with the abrupt change of plans.” She attempted to rise to meet him. 

“Where is the boy?” he interrupted. Eyes locked on Tamlin.  

She attempted to move past his disrespect, nothing she hadn't witnessed in Windhaven. 

“You've requested the assistance of the Illyrian forces of the Night Court for supplemental border protection along the human lands. The Highlord acknowledges its position in our lands and the loss of spring court lands from the treaty, so we will help hold the line against humans.”

“A female came all this way to say yes?” he asked his son. 

Her power pricked against the back of her skin. “This female,” she ground her teeth together. “Has a name. And she is done being spoken over. I come to your court to inform you of the specific legions assigned to your lands and iron out any wrinkles in shift details.”

He doesn't ask her name, just waves his hands as if to say ‘go on.’ Tamlin’s eyes shift between her and his highlord, piecing together what Tarin could not. 

“There will be shifts between the Illyrian legions led between Lieutenant Cassian, Lord Devlon, and myself.” 

He laughed, loud and boisterous. Tamlin’s shoulders tensed. 

“The Highlord of the Night Court is sending females for sentry duties,” he said. “And sends a female to deliver the disrespect.” 

Males. Arrogant, ungrateful, entitled fucking-

Rage, Rahne called to her. Her shadowy form was trying to cool her master’s heating skin. 

Tarin wasn't done insulting her, though. “First he mates with a lesser fae, then sends one to do his business. At least the boy would’ve presented better than,” his dull eyes scanned up and down, lingering disgust on his face at her wings. 

“Rayven.” she finished for him. He seemed to understand what lesser fae sat at his table now. The Night Court only sends the princess when you’ve pissed the Highlord off. Tamlin may not know of her, but Tarin’s hatred couldn't be concealed. 

Tamlin met her eyes as her flames swelled, his head shook slightly, but the flames had already broken over skin. 

“So you do know who I am.”

Tarin’s eyes narrowed as she rose from her seat, unfurling her wings to their full span. She could slash his eye with the right flick at this distance. Then he wouldn't have to look at this female ever again. 

“You’re beginning to annoy me, Tarin.” Rayven inspected her nails casually. 

Tamlin’s eyes were glued to the invisible dust on the table’s edge. 

“I came as a courtesy to your people. We may discuss placement and rotations at a later time if you're going to be so irrational, but the Highlord has given his command. You will do well to remember this kindness. He does not like to repeat himself.” Her hands pressed into the table leaving marks in the oak. “And neither do I.” She let the tendrils of flame leak over the table to the roosting male, reaching into his mind to let him feel the temperature rise in the room. 

“You come to my court and threaten me?” He didn't rise from his seat, knowing Tamlin would take any blow meant for him. 

Rayven decided she hated this male. A highlord or not, she wasn't walking out of here without a command shift. “The Highlord remembers the females who died in the war. With this in mind, he has authorized females to take rank among the fae sent for border control. So you will be accepting of any commander sent to your court and you will treat her the same as you do any sentry sent in your aid.” 

The lord of the spring court found it wise not to speak. 

“I do not threaten, Tarin.” She pulled the flames back and extinguished them in a dramatic hiss. “It is your honor any Illyrian would willingly come to this garden to protect your court when, clearly, you cannot, or else you wouldn't be asking every other court to send aid.”  

The lord of the spring court and his heir stared at the demon, Tamlin’s mouth hung slightly agape, while Tarin’s eyes simmered with a fire of his own. 

“Don't piss me off next time I arrive. Or do and maybe I’ll let you speak to the Highlord yourself. As I’m sure he will be nicer to you than I was.” 

Fragile male, Rahne laughed, tucked behind her shoulder. She had to bite her smile back. 

Most fae had the wisdom to look scared in the presence of the demon princess. Tarin boiled with rage, but let her take her leave. Tamlin looked at her once more with devastation.

That's more like it. 

“And next time, don't be late.” She walked out the double doors letting the echo of her boot heels make their way back to Tarin. The urisk female who had led her into the chamber hall was in the foyer. She didn't meet her eyes as passed her, but one side of her mouth was raised.

Rayven walked onto the lawns of the deceitfully happy court and took off into the skies with her hands shaking.