#when I sat there and had to do dead to life math I am like 167 years sir that's a while

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

The boy reading with Halo font

I expect him to vanish behind closed doors with "someone" and we'll see him if he's hungry....

Or wandering.

[r0se1111]

Stan Pines x Reader

Hello! I haven't posted any writing in like a month rip... I had midterms BUT I survived and have returned to bring you some angst/comfort Stanley stuff!

Also my inbox is still very much open for requests! I am itching to write but lacking inspo I would appreciate requests for any one of my fandoms!

Loosely based on this (only like the last paragraph lol). You and Stan got married when he was technically legally Stanford Pines and Stanley Pines was technically legally dead. Ford comes back and you want a divorce and to really marry your real husband. Enjoy :)

The realization that you were married to Ford hit you in the middle of a quiet night watching movies. The kids had moved back home for the fall, and you, Stan, and Ford were determined to get through a painfully poorly acted black and white horror film. You were snuggled next to Stan, your legs swung over his lap and his hand firmly and affectionately squeezing your knee, reminding you of his gentle strength that made little sparkles catch in your chest.

A flick of gold caught your interest, your eyes abandoning the grainy television screen to watch Stan's hand in its movement on your skin. More specifically, his wedding ring. The one that matched yours, a simple gold band because you thought a diamond would be too impractical (and because the two of you were dead broke when you'd gotten married). You smiled warmly and your heart filled with light and unfiltered adoration as you took one last peek at Stan's ring, then turned back to the TV, comfortable in the utter security of being his.

A soft rustling of fabric on fabric caught your ear and you saw Ford adjusting in his own seat next to you and your husband. You blinked absentmindedly as you watched him get comfortable. Then you realized. "Oh my god." You sat up and Stan's hand halted in its gentle exploration of your exposed knee.

"What? You shocked by that extremely predictable plot twist? Oh, but who could have guessed that the murderer was really the father the whole time!" Stan joked, jostling you lightly with a chuckle.

"No-I. Oh my god." You grabbed his left hand and held your own up next to it, displaying your matching rings. "Stan. We aren't married."

"What-huh? I think the last 30 years would say differently, hun." He chuckled again, but you could see a note of concern in his eyes. Even Ford had paused the movie and tilted his body towards you two in curiosity.

"I'm legally married to Stanford Pines. Because technically, Stanley Pines is dead." You clarify, looking between the two brothers and watching the gears turn. "And that worked out perfectly fine before. But now you're back and- well- no offense but I think we need to get divorced." You grimace awkwardly as you address Ford, moving to swing your legs off Stan's lap. Another thought enters your whirling mind as you turn back to look up at Stan, who looks a little like he's trying to do some very complicated mental math. "And you need to legally come back to life." You jut your finger into his chest with a pointed expression.

Stan watches your finger prod into his chest and sputters, "I can't just un-fake my own death. Why don't we just go on like we've been doin'?" He lifts his hands placatingly to you before pointing to Ford accusingly. "But you are divorcing her."

Ford flushed a little, "No problem there."

"Hey! You would be so lucky to be married to her!"

"Do you want us to get divorced or not?" Ford looked tiredly at his brother.

Before anymore squabbles could break out between the two, you interrupted with a question of your own. "What do you mean go on like we've been doing? Why don't we really get married?"

Stan's eyes darted around your face like a cornered animal and you watched him consider your words. "I just mean-" He leaned back into his seat defeatedly, "we already live together, you know how I feel, I know how you feel, what's the big deal?"

You heard Ford suck in a breath and cough something about refilling the snacks before he quickly shuffled from the room, somehow sensing the oncoming storm.

You frowned and jolted your head back a little, leaning out of Stan's space. "The big deal?" You asked weakly, the sharp sting of unexpected hurt making your voice small. "I want." You swallowed to steady yourself. "I want to marry you. You." You reached forward and took his hand with the ring, enforcing your sentiment emphatically.

Stan stared down at your hand on his, suddenly mute and devoid of his usual joking air. For a horrible moment you thought, maybe he doesn't want to marry me. Maybe I'm asking too much, maybe I'm scaring him off. You bore these doubts with shaky confidence as you continued to watch Stanley's expression, trying to read something there that would let you know all those thoughts were wrong.

His hands are trembling.

You feel it before you see it. Those big, strong hands of his, usually so firm and reassuring on your arms, knees, jaw. They're borderline quivering under your touch. "Stanley?" You all but whisper, afraid of shattering the quiet tension that filled the air.

Stan worked down a swallow before replying, in the softest voice you'd ever heard him use "You really wanna marry me?" And the way his voice croaked from his throat, the raw vulnerability it revealed in him, you physically felt your heart ache at his words.

"Oh. Oh, Stanley. You're so. I-" You took a shaky breath, maneuvering your hands to intertwine with his and provide a steady anchor. "Of course I want to marry you. I love you. I've loved you for 30 years."

Stan sniffed roughly and flickered his eyes up to yours for a moment, and you saw the conflict there. The years of self-doubt and loneliness piling up, making him think this kind of life wasn't for him. His hands moved to trace up your hands, wrists, and settle on your forearms where they flexed and tickled the sensitive skin there "You good?" You ducked your head to make full eye contact with him, hoping your expression all but radiated the love you feel for him. Hoping he could somehow feel it all just from looking at you.

He chucked wetly and nodded. "Just makin' sure you're real s'all." He squeezed your shoulders for emphasis, making you giggle. If you thought your smile to him was bright, his returning grin was all but blinding. He always loved making you laugh, turning to your joy like a sunflower to the sun.

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the way he secretly really likes it. He claims to enjoy those deep, passionate, dramatic kisses the most, but you can tell from the stutter of his hands and the hitch of his breath that these gentle touches mean more to him than he'd admit. He's starved for it. You think. I wanna give it to him, until he's not hungry anymore.

Bringing your head back, you bask in his warm gaze and take advantage of his silent state. "Stanley Pines." You reach down and work his ring off his finger, holding it up in the few inches between your faces. "Will you marry me?"

This gets you an exhale turned into a real laugh that you all but melt at, so relieved at his happiness. Stan reaches his own hand to remove your ring and holds it up next to his. "Only if you marry me too."

Giggling like a couple of teenagers, the two of you slide your rings back in place, whispering little yeses between hushed breaths and chaste kisses, as if the word is holier if only heard by two.

"Are you two decent? Please don't tell me you’re having sex on the couch." A very concerned sounding Ford calls from the kitchen, just out of view.

"No, we're both very naked and sweaty all over the family couch. Don't come in." Stan shouts back, bringing your legs back over his lap and pulling you close by your waist. You can't help the flutter in your stomach at this casual display of strength and possession, shuffling your body to get even closer to the man.

"Don't listen to him, we're fine!" You yell, holding back a giggle as you elbow Stan.

Ford enters slowly, and the relief on his face is palpable. Whether it's because you and Stan have resolved your little moment or whether it's because you are not in fact having sex on the family couch, you don't know. He relaxes back into his seat, pressing play on the remote. Things are quiet and calm for a moment and you bask in the domesticity and comfort of it all.

Then you feel Stan's hand wandering dangerously high on your thigh, circling inwards. "Stan!" You hiss, slapping his hand away playfully.

He's about to respond when Ford interrupts "Stanley, really. Keep your hands to yourself, that is my wife after all."

You smile affectionately and bite back your laugh at Stan's indignant "why yOU-"

In between squabbling words and some very rude hand gestures, you can't help but think how lucky you are to have this love, and this family, in your life.

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Ten

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Madam Despoina gives you a little more insight, as well as a significant gift.

Warning: language, alcohol, smoking, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 10: Curses

This tired old machine is a-rumbling (oh my, oh my). Singing songs to the secrets behind my eyes (oh my, oh my). All my aching bones are trembling, and I may yet fall apart. Won’t you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart? Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust. The devil’s after both of us. Oh, lay my curses out to rest, make a mercy out of me.  — Curses, The Crane Wives

“His name was Dimitris.”

You frowned at Madam Despoina’s first words to you after she entered the caravan. 

“May I sit?”

Instead of replying, Tommy moved to grab the chair against the wall and sat it next to the fireplace, offering his hand to assist her down. 

The old woman thanked him as she sat, lifting her head back to you. Her worn voice was solemn, tired even, as she went on. 

“Dimitris joined my camp some odd years ago, having traveled from the old country. For most of his time with us, he was a good man — hard worker, good soldier, did what he was told. Recently, he became more aggressive. First it was with the women, then fighting amongst the men. When I discovered that he’d been selling information and stealing… well, I displayed a lapse in judgment with my punishment. He was banished, with a threat of death if he returned. Apparently, he still has friends in the camp. They informed him of your arrival, of your importance. I believe he snuck in during the bustle of preparation—”

“He escorted us into the camp,” Tommy pointed out, interrupting. “He escorted us to your wagon.”

The Madam’s face remained unchanged, her eyes not leaving yours while addressing Tommy. 

“A breech that I am investigating with serious severity, Mr. Shelby, I assure you.”

“He dead?” His question made your gaze move from her to him, causing you to inhale sharply. 

What the hell had your life become where conversations about gypsy fortune telling and gangster murders had become just another Sunday night?

Tommy’s eyes flicked to yours before returning to the Madam’s. For an insecure moment, you wondered if he considered you weak for your reaction. 

“When we find him, he will be.”

The woman’s reply felt like cold water as you realized the creep was still out there. Her eyes softened as she held on to your gaze. 

“I apologize, mikrí mou màntissa. This was not what I envisioned for our meeting.”

You swallowed the irony, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. 

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “May I ask — what did he want from you?”

You took a deep breath before shrugging. You had no idea how long ago the event had occurred, could have been an hour or ten, either way you just wanted to push it as far from your brain as possible. It didn’t help that you were on the tail end of your buzz — that and the adrenaline (and your newfound ability to disassociate and compartmentalize) made the memory feel fuzzy. 

“Um, well,” you began, speaking for the first time since the Madam entered the caravan. “Originally he thought I was Anastasia Romanov,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you said it. 

Tommy’s brow creased, “Who?”

You missed the way Madam Despoina watched you answer his question. 

“The Romanovs? The Russian royal family that was just killed like—” you paused as your brain tried to do the quick math. “Holy shit that was just this year,” you muttered to yourself, though the other two in the room could certainly hear you. 

“We heard somethin’ about that in France. A revolution, ya?” Tommy pondered, reaching into his jacket pocket on the hanger to grab a cigarette while shrugging — as if hearing one of the biggest historical events ever was just no big deal. “Who was she, exactly?” 

Realization of just how disconnected you were from the rest of the world began to set in. You’d been here for more than three months, and the only real news you’d been privy to had been the war end. And that was only because Ada had shoved the newspaper in your face. 

You made a mental note to start saving enough to purchase newspapers when you got back into the city. If you were going to be here, you wanted to know what was going on. 

“She was a daughter of the tsar,” the Madam answered for you. “A princess. When the family was taken to be executed, it was rumored that the princess escaped.”

You nodded, “Creep-o said he thought that’s who was coming to the camp when Madam Despoina said they had special company.” 

The Madam hummed her understanding. “We’ve often had queens and princesses come to bargain for good fortune. Dimitris thought you were the princess.”

“He said he knew I wasn’t Russian though due to my accent. I may have implied with my tone that he was an idiot for believing the rumor… he didn’t like that.” You grew angry at the memory of him grabbing you, instinctively wrapping your own arms around yourself. “Still, he said that you thought I was someone important. That he could use me somehow to make him money.”

Somehow was beginning to feel a lot like selling as you said the words out loud. The words sat bitterly at the tip of your tongue as your anger began to bubble. 

“What did he think he was going to get away with, huh? Kidnapping me and holding me hostage? Handcuffing me to a table and forcing me to give seances? The nerve—“ you fumed as you grew lost in your own imagination. “What psychopath thinks he can do that? I can’t even tell fucking fortunes! I’m not important! I can’t—“

The tears surprised you as your anger began to catch in your throat. This was the second time today you’d began to cry out of frustration, exhaustion, everything. And you hated yourself even more for it. 

You felt weak again. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your breathing, and suddenly you felt two hands cradling your face. Expecting to see Madam Despoina, who’d been sitting closer to you, you were surprised when you opened your eyes to see it was Tommy who was kneeling in front of you, his own face inches from yours. 

You felt ashamed again for your weakness, dropping your eyes and trying to push him away. But he held on to you and forced you to look at him again. You prepared to see disappointment or pity in his eyes, but instead you saw the same reassurance that you’d almost come to rely on in the depth of his crystal blues.

“That won’t ever happen,” he said confidently. “You’re not a doll, remember? And you are strong. If the Delphi don’t find this fucker, the Peaky Blinders will. Either way, you’ll never see him again, you understand me, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, the tears no longer falling as he wiped what remained off your cheeks. 

“I have a second reason for coming by,” Madam Despoina’s words broke the spell between you and Tommy, who stood up and resumed his original position between you two women and the doorway. She reached inside her baggy skirt pocket and pulled out a small wooden box, extending it to you. “I wanted to offer you this gift.”

Your brow furrowed as you took it. 

In the Madam’s hands, it appeared to be an ordinary box. But when you ran your fingers across the edges and held it toward the light of the fireplace, you could just make out the intricate carvings. It reminded you of the inside of this caravan. On the lid of the box was the Delphi symbol — you couldn’t help the way your pointer finger moved from the trunk of the tree upward, through the branches and down one side of the circle, across the roots, and up the other side until you completed the path. 

“It’s beautiful,” you couldn’t help but breathe out as you finally lifted the lid. Your brow furrowed again as you examined a pouch of leaves and small vile of water inside. 

Madam nodded. “Boil some water and let the leaves soak, then pour in the water from the vile before drinking the entire cup.”

“Tea? You want me to make tea?” You looked between her and the box. “Um, why?”

She smiled. “My gift. It’s one final conversation with your mother.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, the words falling out absentmindedly, “What? You’ve got to be joking.” You looked down at the box suspiciously. “What is this then, drugs?”

“These are passed from our ancestry, they’re very valuable and once designated cannot be transferred to another. The water is from the original springs of Delphi, the leaves are from the gardens of the temple.”

“The leaves that gave the priestesses epilepsies?” you questioned, raising your brow as your suspicions were confirmed. “You want to drug me and pretend like whatever hallucination I might get is some divine vision from my dead mother?”

The woman gave you a smile, “You still disbelieve, don’t you, young girl?”

You set the box down on the bed next to you and shook your head. “I mean no disrespect, Madam Despoina—“

The old woman lifted swiftly from her seat and reached for your hand. Out of surprise and instinct, thinking she must have fallen, you jumped off the bed and squeezed her hand, matching her firm grip with your own. 

The room flashed white. The Madam before you was all you could see, but as your eyes adjusted, your vision began to shift. 

Her face — it began to change. You recognized the woman’s face, something ancient and beautiful, with eyes that glowed that brilliant gold you’d seen in your dreams. Another flash, and the face began to morph into so many faces, one after the other. Hundreds of women, all unrecognizable and yet something familiar pulled at your gut. 

Suddenly the shifting stopped as you saw your mother’s face. You gasped, taking a step forward before your mothers face morphed again. This time, your foot moved backwards as you looked upon your own reflection. 

Snapping your hand out of the old woman’s hold, your vision cleared. You were catching your breath as you found the familiar brown eyes of Madam Despoina, the caravan surrounding you again, a knowing smile pulling at her cheek. 

Your eyes found Tommy’s, who had taken a few cautious steps toward you both and was looking at you concerned. “You okay?”

“I saw— I, I thought I saw—“ you breathed out, your eyes moving back to the Madam as you held your hand to your chest. 

“Drink the tea. Talk with your mother. She will be able to tell you now what she could never before.”

She turned to leave before stopping. When she turned back to you, she reached out for your hand again. You flinched at her touch, expecting the same thing to happen again, but nothing did.

“During these winter times, our camp retreats back to our home ground to prepare for the cold. We drink and dine as is tradition during these darker and colder months until it is time to travel again. But this year I knew we had to wait — that we were waiting for you.” 

She squeezed your hand as she held yours between both of hers. 

“Today I have felt closer to our god than I have in many years. I had nearly forgotten what his light felt like, but with you, I can feel his warmth again. Won’t you stay?”

“We can’t,” Tommy answered for you, his voice stern. “We promised we’d be back ‘fore Christmas Eve.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that was a lie. Tommy had already told you he’d prepared for you both to be gone for as long as a week’s time. But you didn’t dare question him now. 

Besides, you felt as though her question wasn’t just a courtesy to stay tonight, or even for a few days. The question felt like an invitation — to stay with the Delphi family. 

For a split moment, you considered her offer. You were already a time traveling fish out of water, and you’d bet money that she knew more than what she’d even revealed tonight. Maybe you were here to find them — maybe this is where you were meant to be. 

But your eyes instinctively looked to Tommy at the thought, and your chest tightened. 

Maybe it was a mistake, but that stupid part of your brain or hormones or whatever it was controlling you couldn’t leave Birmingham. 

The Shelbys. 

Tommy. 

Madam Despoina hummed an understanding, her eyes watching your internal struggle. “Then you should leave now. There are some here who are under investigation of helping Dimitris, and it may not be as safe as I’d have wished for you here.” Her eyes dropped in shame. 

“If you thought we may be in danger, why would you ask for me to stay?” 

“I’m an old woman, mikrí mou màntissa.” She repeated the foreign words again, and her soft smile made you sense they were a term of endearment. “Sometimes I’m more selfish than I’m proud of. I will see you again someday, Cassandra. Until then, remember what I told you —“

“Stay true to myself.”

“Aye. You will feel like you can’t use your second sight for fear of alteration, or alienation. But it will be your asset in the times to come. And it can save those around you, if you let it.”

She looked to Tommy then, whose brow creased at the conversation. 

The Madam smirked. “Our god is closer to you than you think.” Her attention moved back to you. “Listen to your mother. Break the cursed chain.”

She turned again to leave. 

“Wait,” you stepped forward as she paused. “Why are you giving me this now? You told me before that it wasn’t the time. What’s changed?”

Madam Despoina let out a humored hum. “You’re not the only one who gets visions, love.” At the doorway, she stopped and turned to Tommy. “Remember what I told you as well, Apollon.”

With that, she left the caravan. 

Tommy ran his hand through his hair as he let out a breath. “We’re leaving. We’re gettin’ in our wagon and gettin’ the fuck out of this nut house.”

He began to get dressed, throwing on his gun holster over his shoulders before putting on his jacket. 

Your brain was processing the name Madam had called Tommy. “She called you—“

“Get dressed,” he instructed, ignoring you and handing you the bag and your shoes before grabbing the rest of his clothes. 

You pulled out one of the clean skirts and pulled it over your nightgown. You grabbed your jacket and threw it around you before shoving your feet into your shoes. Stuffing the rest of your items in your bag, you gingerly picked up the box Madam Despoina had given you and set it on top before latching it closed. 

Tommy returned, offering you his hand to lead you out of the caravan and through the dark, clutching the bag close to your chest. The wagon came into view, Johnny Dogs hustling to secure Midnight. 

“Tommy, she called you—“

He shushed you, his eyes flashing down at you before making a quick scan around you both. “Not now.”

You huffed. “Never now.”

“Soon,” he reassured, giving your hand a squeeze before jumping in the back of the wagon while Johnny appeared at your side. “All clear?”

“Aye, Tom,” Dogs replied. His usual jovial vibe was gone tonight, serious as he addressed his friend. 

“Good. Up ya come,” Tommy offered you his hand as he stood in the wagon. 

Your brow furrowed, expecting to sit with him in the drivers seat like you had earlier. 

“There’s a bed in here, and some blankets. It’s the middle of the night and you’ve had a long day. You already fell asleep once today, I don’t need you fallin’ over on the drive back.”

Your instinct was to fight back, prove him wrong. Before you could reply, he squatted closer to you. 

“I won’t have you sitting like a fuckin’ target in case we run into trouble on the road. I don’t expect it, but I’m a cautious man, ‘member? Get in the wagon, and let me keep you safe.”

“She called you Apollo,” you whispered, looking between his eyes. 

It felt like you were standing in a room with thousands of puzzle pieces, and every time you thought you’d found a connection, thought you’d gotten a handle on the full picture, a new piece would pop up and throw you off your track again. You felt like you were slowly losing your mind. 

He softened his look, grabbing your hand and lifting you into the wagon. You let him walk you toward the front before gently pushing you down onto the small mattress pad. “Rest. Once we’re safe, you can explain to me why.”

You swallowed as he stood back up and climbed through the front flap of the wagon and sat on the bench. Johnny Dogs wished you a small farewell and you gave him a sympathetic smile before he secured the back of the wagon. 

Despite everything that’d happened to you tonight, you’d enjoyed the man’s company and hopped to see him again. If Tommy allowed. 

You could see Tommy settling in his seat from your spot, grateful for the secured tarp on the side your head rested against to cut the cool night air as the wagon began to move forward. 

The wheel hit a bump, causing your bag to jump against your leg. You picked it up and secured it against you, not wanting anything to happen to the box inside. 

The box filled with the magic drugs, that is. 

What were the chances that the leaves and water in that box were actually from the Temple of Apollo in Greece? Was it old? New? There’s no way something like that could have survived all this time, and there was definitely no way that if it had, someone would just hand it over to a complete stranger for nothing. 

And the flashes that you saw — was it the drinks you had tonight? You had a hard time believing that the woman you just left would have you drugged without your knowledge — but the cynical side of you, the cautious side as Tommy might say, couldn’t exclude the possibility entirely. 

No, you shook your head, trying to reason your way out of that thought. Why would a woman who already had you drugged offer you more drugs and tell you what they were? If she’d done it once, what was stopping her from doing it again without your knowledge? She could have made the tea herself and fed it to you easily at any point during the night. But instead she gave it to you in pieces, as a gift, and told you exactly what it was (more or less - you still weren’t entirely convinced). 

So if you weren’t drugged, then you had to have just been ole fashioned drunk. 

You shook your head at yourself again, getting more comfortable on the mattress until you were laying down, the wagon wheels continuing to move along underneath you. 

Nothing like that had ever happened to you after a night of drinking before. And there were definitely nights you’d been way drunker than you had been tonight. 

The only time you’d seen visions like that before, with the white flash and everything, was the night you traveled back and saw Tommy in the mud. 

But why Tommy? was the last question you asked yourself before your eyes began to drift closed and you wrapped the blanket around yourself. 

And why did Madam Despoina call him Apollo? 

——

“Cassandra.” 

Your god reached out to you, his once ice blue eyes had now returned to their brilliant gold, his look was full of concern. 

“You just said—“ your breath was short at the previous feeling of dread as you grasped at the front of your dress to steady your heart. 

He cupped your face with his hand, “I said that I didn’t expect to fall for you, Cassandra.”

No, you thought. There was rage, there was anger. He said he cursed you… didn’t he? 

But as you looked up at him now, the face you saw was the same face you’d been gazing upon night after night. You hadn’t intended to fall for the palace gardener. The first night you’d come out here was the day you pledged your allegiance to priesthood. You’d sought solace, a place to sit with your thoughts to ensure that you were making the right decision. 

The gardener had surprised you, his voice soft and kind as he asked if you were okay. After that, you’d come to rely on the man as a confidant. Eventually, you were spending most of your day awaiting the hours until you could see his sweet face again. 

But now, everything was different. He wasn’t a man at all — he was a god. He was your god, confessing his affection for you. 

And yet still, you touched your lips at the memory of his cold blue eyes, his angry words, his curse. 

His brow creased as you pulled your face away, turning back to the garden ledge as you looked out to the sea. Your eyes focused on the horizon line, where you saw ships sailing toward your kingdom. Thousands of ships - an armada. They were racing forward, growing closer and closer to the shoreline, launching hundreds of arrows into the air.

“We’re under attack!” 

You turned back toward your lord and pointed, but he only shook his head. “There’s nothing out there.” 

Whipping your head back toward the sea, your eyes searched for the sight of the ships, but they were gone. The seas were calm once again.

“But—“

An explosion caught your attention, pulling your gaze back down toward the square of the city. It was on fire — people were screaming, children crying. Men in foreign armor raced through the streets on horses, swinging swords and axes, killing your citizens. 

You blinked — they were gone. 

‘You’re cursed, Cassandra! You’re cursed!—‘

“Y/N!”

You jumped at the shout, turning to find Harry standing at the end of the bar with his arms crossed. 

“I don’t pay ya to daydream. We’ve got a packed ‘ouse now snap out of it.”

“Sorry, Harry.” You flushed at your absent mindedness, picking up the rag and moving to give the counter a good swipe before heading toward the first man with his arm reached forward. 

But through the monotony of the job, your mind couldn’t help but wonder back toward your dream in the wagon. 

Tommy had woken you up the same as he had on the drive to the camp. Clinging to his arms, you found yourself gasping for air and your cheeks damp from tears. Embarrassed once again for waking up in a panic, you began to wonder if you’d ever have a normal night’s sleep ever again. 

Despite the nightmare, you’d somehow managed to sleep through most of the drive back into town. You rode up front for the remaining drive back while Tommy hit you with the realities of going back into society. 

“There’s something we need to discuss before we get back to Small Heath,” Tommy had started in his serious voice. “Only Polly knows where we truly went yesterday. Arthur, John, and Ada know a version of the truth — they know we were lookin’ for a gypsy clan that might have had some of your last surviving family members, but we’re gonna tell ‘em we were unsuccessful in our journey. That they were supposed to be outside the fairground, but they were nowhere to be found, so we came back and you decided to give up the search. Got it?” 

You had nodded. “And Polly? What are we going to tell her?” 

“That’s up to you,” he surprised you with that response. “But one thing I want to make clear. That we saw Johnny Dogs and what was discussed with him will be told to no one, ya?” 

“Can I ask why?” You threw the question out as a tester — it wasn’t a no to his confirmation, but you were curious if he’d shut you down or trust you. 

Tommy didn’t respond right away, staring straight ahead at Midnight pulling the wagon forward. You swallowed, ready to admit defeat, when Tommy cleared his throat. 

“Most of what we do is illegal. To make any real money, to gain any real power, we need to expand into some legitimacy. It’s the only way to break out of Birmingham.”

“And Billy Kimber has something to do with that?” 

Slowly, Tommy nodded. “Think so. Still working out the details, but it starts with Johnny Dogs. That’s all I’m willin’ to say now.” 

You thought about the words exchanged between the two men, about what Tommy said on Saturday about domination. You wondered if his ambition extended further than just working with the racetrack owner, or if he wanted to control it. 

Tommy didn’t seem like a man who limited his ambitions. 

“Got it. Not a word, then.” 

You paused, contemplating what you were going to say next and deciding to just go with it. What the hell, right? 

“I still think you should look into running alcohol into America. The probability of a prohibition is higher than you’re estimating.” 

“Thought you said you weren’t a fortune teller,” Tommy rose his brow up as he looked at you. Beneath you, the dirt roads had transitioned into cobblestone, indicating an end to your ride. 

You’d shrugged, “I’m not. I’m just a woman on your payroll, who sometimes knows things, offering you business advice.”

Tommy watched you for a moment more, but chose not to push you on it further. Neither of you said anything as he made his way to your doorstep. You’d mentioned wanting to change and then head over to the Garrison, hopping to mend the nagging feeling you had of Harry being angry with you and offering to work a shift that evening. 

“I’ll see you later then,” Tommy had said as you turned to leave, watching as you clung to your bag and ascended the stairs. 

To his promise, Tommy walked through the doors of the Garrison some odd hours later, an entourage of men behind him. Harry hustled to shoo people out of the snug before escorting the men into the private room. 

This had been a part of the deal Tommy had made with Harry, apparently. The Garrison was not only protected by the Peaky Blinders, but now it was officially the pub of choice for the gang. That meant that any time a Peaky boy was in the premises, the snug had to be available. It also meant that anything a Shelby man ordered was on the house, no questions asked. 

Tommy still dropped a coin at the snug window when he asked for a bottle of whiskey and six tumblers. 

“Irish or Scotch?” You asked, a smirk playing at your lips as you watched him attempt to stop his own smile. 

Without his response, you grabbed the Irish Whiskey and glasses, circling the bar and turning into the private room. Tommy was taking his seat as the men around him grabbed for the cups, Arthur electing to grab the bottle and open it. He poured himself a shot first, then Tommy, then John, before passing it to the other three in the room. 

You vaguely recognized the three non-brothers from the betting shop, and part of you wondered if any of them were the book men you audited as you began to wipe down the table.

Arthur was patting John on the shoulder, sounding already drunk as he went on about the boy finally getting out of that house. You took a quick look at John, who looked tired as he mumbled something about the kids driving him mad. 

You smiled at that, silently wondering if John being out meant that Martha was starting to feel better. You made a note to ask Tommy about her later as you asked aloud if anyone needed anything else. 

“That’ll be all, Y/N,” Tommy answered for everyone. 

You gave a friendly smile, eyes scanning the room before landing on one of the non-brothers, who was watching you quite intently. As a barmaid, you were either invisible or the subject of lustful attention, so a part of you was used to the creepy looks and just bid your time until the man either hit on you or lost interest. Not expecting this kind of attention here, with Tommy around, you felt caught off guard. Awkwardly, you nodded and left the room, leaving the doors open behind you. 

Some time passed as you worked the room, the crowd slowly beginning to lessen as the night went on. You were working on the pub books, taking advantage of the lull, when the man who’d been watching you from the snug approached the bar.

“You’re Ada’s friend, ya?”

You couldn’t stop the quick look through the snug window, noticing that the other Peaky boys were still in there, working on their second bottle. “Um, yeah,” you answered, offering him a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Need something?” 

“Ya, a mild.” 

Trying to control your annoyed face at having to pause your book work — seriously, there was no way you could ever leave Harry in charge of the books ever again — you rose from your seat to prepare his drink. You could feel him watch you as you worked. 

“I’ve seen ya round the Shelby house with Ada and Ms. Polly. I work there, with the boys. Names Benji.” 

Benji — you recognized the name as one of the bookkeepers at the betting shop. He was one you’d been suspicious of for a while now. 

The first couple big offenders of stealing from the shop had disappeared some time after you brought them to Polly’s attention. At the time, your innocent mind believed they’d just been fired and moved on — but now you knew better. The chances that those men were still breathing were slim. 

With Benji’s records, his error rate decreased after the first few men were outed, and you always suspected that he was biding his time before he began to steal again. You just had to wait until you had more evidence. 

For a paranoid moment, as Benji’s eyes scanned you over, you wondered if he knew about your secret employment. He was a Peaky boy, after all. He lifted his hand over the bar counter as an offering when you set his drink down. 

“Y/N,” you offered out of ceremony, your smile still not quite genuine as you shook his hand.

“Y/N,” he repeated, donning his own smile as he looked at you again appreciatively. He wasn’t unhandsome, so you imagine that smile worked on most girls. But after what happened to you last night and your suspicions about his bookkeeping, you felt yourself taking a step back out of caution. “Next time you’re in the shop, say hi.” 

You watched as he took his drink and swaggered back into the snug. Part of you was slightly surprised at his boldness. You were a friend of Ada’s — his employer’s sister. Plus, you and Tommy—

You scoffed at yourself. You and Tommy what? You weren’t a couple — you didn’t think so, anyway. He hadn’t gone to kiss you, or even offer to walk you to your apartment door when he’d dropped you off. What’d happened last night before Madam Despoina interrupted had been… hormones. A mixture of adrenaline, alcohol, and an attempt to grasp onto some kind of sanity after a series of crazed events. 

He hadn’t spoken of the moment since — hell, he hadn’t spoken of any of it since, something that was also making you anxious.  

Out of instinct, your eyes moved to the window of the snug where you could see Tommy sitting comfortably in his chair. As if feeling your gaze, his own eyes moved to meet yours. You jumped slightly, feeling as if you’d been caught, and proceeded to go back to checking on the other patrons in the room. 

You’d settled back to working on the inventory, almost finished when the Peaky boys loudly made their exit of the pub. Surprised, Arthur shouted a drunken goodbye to you, even using your name as he waved and stumbled out the doorway with his arm around John. Benji turned and gave you a wink before following the group out the door. Tommy stood back, watching the whole thing before walking over to the counter. 

“What was that about?” He asked, gesturing over his shoulder to the doorway. 

“What? Arthur saying goodbye? Not sure, but it’s a big improvement over him calling me a whore or just grunting at me—“

“Not Arthur, Hancock.”

Your brow creased. “Who?” 

“Benji,” he added, and you realized Hancock must be his last name. Tommy poured the last of the bottle into his drink. 

You stood up from your seat again and walked over toward Tommy, taking a scan of the room. There were only two young men in the corner finishing up their last round, but you still kept your voice low. “Who knows about me?” 

It was Tommy’s turn to furrow his brow. “‘Dya mean?” 

“My job, at the house.” 

Tommy nodded, understanding. “Just immediate family — me, Pol, Arthur, John, and Ada.” 

“And before you guys returned?”

He shrugged, “Just Pol and Ada, I believe. What’s this about?” 

“I was just paranoid, I guess. I thought for a moment Benji may have suspected me, but now I think he was just coming on to me.” 

Tommy’s back straightened at your comment, lifting his glass for another drink. “And is that somethin’ that you want?”

“No,” you answered immediately, watching his shoulders immediately relax. 

“Good,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to your lips. “Let me walk you home?” 

You smiled at both his response and his request, wondering if maybe you were wrong about what exactly you and Tommy were. 

“I can’t go until those two leave,” you said quietly as you gestured to the corner. 

As if realizing for the first time that the two of you weren’t alone, he turned to the other guests. “Oi! Time to go!”

The young men jumped from their seats and scattered out the door. You couldn’t hold in your surprise at the immediate obedience. 

It’s good to be the king, you found yourself quoting Mel Brooks in your head at the action, not yet confident enough to say your quip out loud. The thought still made you smile though, and you were again surprised when Tommy offered you a smile in return. You knew how rare a Tommy smile was. 

“Fine, but I still have to put the book away and sweep the floors. Harry mentioned something about putting in an ad for another barmaid — I’m not about to further piss him off and have him replace me.”

Tommy scoffed. “I’ve seen the receipts, you practically saved this business. He’d be a fool to replace you.”

Your pride swelled at the compliment as you lowered your head to hide your blush. 

Luckily, it’d been a rather tame night, so your cleanup was minimum, allowing you and Tommy to leave soon after everything was put in order. 

Tommy lit a cigarette as you locked the door, wrapping his coat around you tightly and cursing to yourself how right he’d been about it getting colder. 

“Come to dinner tomorrow,” he said, breaking the silence on your walk. It didn’t sound like a question, but his gaze down toward you implied that he was waiting for a response. 

“To your house?” You asked, curious if this was just a regular dinner or a date dinner. 

He nodded. “Aye, Christmas Eve dinner with the family. Ada made me promise to ask.” 

You deflated slightly at his follow-up. Was Ada’s insistence because Tommy didn’t actually want you there? God, listen to you — sounding like a pathetic teenager again overanalyzing everything your crush said. 

“Okay,” you said instead. 

“Good.” 

He stopped and faced you when you got to your apartment. Gently, he lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, pulling your face upward until your lips met his. It was a soft kiss, but it still left you breathless as he pulled away. 

“After dinner, when everyone’s distracted, we’ll talk, ya? About the dreams, about what Madam Despoina said, and about why when I was waking you up this afternoon you kept saying that you were cursed.” 

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

tag list: @cillixn @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @swordofawriter @sweetmilkshakeluminary @ttae-yong @topstory21 @cole-silas @moral-terpitude @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reallysparklychaos @enrapturedbythemoon @bat-shark-repellant @kpopslur @ilovestrngrthgs @musicsweetie21 @invisiblexcth @lovelydivs @whoisf4yryl0v3r @itscheybaby @laylasbunbunny @lordofthunderthr @luvstylesz @roseanimelover @lostgirl219 @berarenado @akemiixx01 @mulletmcghee @jasminxts @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @piceous21 @xoprincessmel @arcanebabe @booktvmoviefangirl @cillmequick @nataliewalker93 @the-blueatlas @regatoni1 @goblinjnr @litteltourtius @xxbeckybeexx-blog @tanyaherondale @sometimes-i-sing @littlewhiterose @ja-4-leyvam @rubyxx16

[neevblanc]

this is a req for your cafe event! 🩷 15/Dark Era dazai x reader word: hm.....sick (like the kind of sick after you drink too much) bar lupin shall be the death of me🥹 If you need a name: April

a/n —hiii april! :D ty for sending this in! i've never tried my hand at writing dark era dazai so i hope i can do our little funky guy justice lmao :P

blanca’s cafe event!

this event is now CLOSED! feel free to leave a normal old ask, though!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Dazai Osamu x GN!reader

Tags— dark era dazai, he's a little mean but what can ya do, regular dazai suicidal antics (help him), killer hangover (sort of), bullying him into being cared for seems to be a theme amongst the ppl in his life (looking at you, kunikida)

CW/TW— drinking, underage drinking, mentions of vomiting, dehydration, suicidal themes

please keep yourself safe.

note — i ended up modeling what reader is to this dazai as something similar to what higuchi is to akutagawa. not exactly, of course, since all four of these characters are complex and very much different but the premise was...inspired, i think. it's interesting. dazai is interesting!

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Dead to Me by Kali Uchis"

00:34 ━━●─────── 03:19

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

"i don't know what you've been told. see i am not your enemy."

The walk up to the roof is familiar. The stairway is damp, and the stairs creak under your feet; the building is one of the older ones left in the city and, therefore, made of wood instead of the metal you were used to seeing.

You open the door to the roof, biting the inside of your cheek as you step out into the open and let it shut behind you. The soft night wind bites at your face in greeting as soon as you are entirely on the roof. Your eyes dart to the right, and you find what you’re looking for in the exact place it always is.

“Are you done now, Dazai-san?” You ask, approaching the man. He’s sat on the ledge of the building. Despite seeing him in this position more times than you could count, unease still seeps into your stomach and pools at the bottom. You stop just beside him, and without thinking much of it, you do the math to make sure you’d be able to catch him if anything happened.

You shuffle a foot closer. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks.

“Yes.” Dazai’s response is clipped, but he takes a deep and visible breath before speaking. You know immediately he’s had too much to drink.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, despite knowing that Oda-san and Ango-san wouldn’t have let Dazai up, and Dazai wouldn’t have been on the roof if Oda-san and Ango-san were with him.

“None of your business.” He huffs, almost clumsy, as he swings his gangly legs back toward the roof and stands slower than usual. You frowned but kept your hands to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a steadying hand. You turn first, keeping track of his footsteps that sound quietly just after yours. You hold the door to the stairwell open for him, and Dazai passes you without the slightest acknowledgment. 

He heads out of the building without another word, and instead of following his steps back to his…room, you quickly round the corner and head down the steps to bar Lupin. Two steps at a time, your breath comes out in cloudy puffs due to the cold. The bar door creaks ever so slightly as you open it, and the man at the bar gives you a strained smile when he sees you.

“Got him?” He asks, putting down the glass he’d been drying. You nod, sighing lightly.

“Could I have some of those bread rolls you sell? Put them on Dazai-san’s tab, please. I’ll be back to pay it off later in the week anyway.” You say, leaning on the bar. He smiles gently at you and packs the little rolls into a box for you to take. He hands them over and tilts his head toward the door.

“Now get going. It’s too damn cold and late for you kids to be out.” He shoos you away, and you hurry back into the winter air again.

Fortunately, Dazai has slumped against a building wall not too far away. A flickering streetlight shines above him, keeping his form visible to you despite the layers of black he insists on wearing.

You walk to him quickly, and as you near, he straightens and doesn’t bother to look your way. You do him a favor and pretend he hadn’t been slack-jawed a second ago, half coherent and entirely too relaxed in public.

You fumble the take-out box open and hand him one of the rolls, ignoring the hazy way his eyes roll over your entire form as he takes it. A Dazai this plastered doesn’t have much of the subtly everyone might expect from him.

“These are cold.” He huffed, demolishing half of the roll in one bite. You smile tightly at him.

“Unfortunately, they’re not kept fresh for 18 hours, Dazai-san. We’re lucky Lupin had any leftovers at all.” You sigh. Dazai busies himself with the rest of the roll in his hands, so you don’t get much of a response.

The walk to the shipping yard isn’t too eventful. Fellow drunks and the shady people that populate Yokohama’s streets at night become less and less as they tread deeper into Port Mafia territory. For all the fear that the PM no doubt instilled into Yokohama’s citizens, they weren’t the type to break promises. Shop owners paid their protection fee monthly, and they were dutifully kept from any damage caused by the (admittedly desperate and exaggeratedly large population caused by the Port Mafia) local criminals.

Despite his inebriated state, Dazai’s unsteady feet lead him toward the container he calls home- which you’re grateful for since you couldn’t ever remember which was his in the sea of containers the Mafia had come in and out of the shipping yard.

You watch him fumble with the latches, managing only to flip those over. Dazai had never been the strongest, so when he goes to pull on the handles and pop the container open, he stumbles backward and just barely manages to not fall flat on his ass.

“Um.” He slurs, blinking at his hands. They must have let go without him trying to. You bite back a laugh and pull the handles, only slightly staggering with the weight of the door once it pops open.

Dazai huffs softly and heads in, leaving you to close the door behind you by a cable he had fashioned to the door. You secure the door and turn to flick the lamp in the corner on, illuminating the space in a warm glow. The lamp was an addition you insisted on. Eventually, Dazai allowed you to drag in the thing (along with a semi-quiet-enough generator to keep it running). You had a feeling it was only ever turned on when you were in here.

Dazai had collapsed onto his mattress, worryingly quiet and face down. You put the container with the rolls down near the makeshift bed and gently roll him over, making sure he settled on his side to avoid choking on his own vomit in the night. His face is startlingly blank when you can see it again, and he eyes you with contempt.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” He says lightly, though you know better than to think he wasn’t bothered.

“Sorry, Dazai-san. You wouldn’t enjoy dying in a pool of your own vomit, I think.” You answer lowly, slowly reaching for a bottle of water that had clearly rolled away one night and hadn’t been picked up since.

He gives you that same withering look and brings a hand up to rest over his eyes. You imagine the headache he’s sporting must be killer- Dazai was not one to be nice to himself, especially not with something so destructive as drinking.

You gesture for him to take the bottle in your hands, shaking it lightly as if he were a toddler who needed the visual cue. He huffs and takes it.

“You should leave.” He mutters, haphazardly bringing the bottle’s opening to his mouth and drinking messily. You ignore the way some of the water overwhelms him and dribbles down the side of his mouth.

“I should, but it wouldn’t do to have you die by choking. Even asleep, I hear it’s a horrible way to die.” You hum, finally shifting into a comfortable sitting position next to the mattress.

A sober Dazai might’ve stared you down until you left, and a particularly pissy one would’ve shoved you out himself.

As he was, he grumbled and let the bottle fall back into your waiting hands and promptly went to sleep, sagging like a corpse into the bed. You place the bottle next to you and sigh as quietly as possible- Dazai could be one hell of a light sleeper.

His breathing deepens quickly, and it’s startlingly quiet despite his inebriation. Dazai was always like this, somehow- walking the line between alive and dead. He was your superior by multiple clearance levels, sure, but not much older than you and not all that physically impressive. His strength was in his demeanor, of course- in his sharp tongue and quick-witted mind.

He was still young, though, and despite being a bit younger than him you were always a little taken aback by how other members treated him when his face was still round and soft like a child’s. The only people who really treated him like a kid you could count on one hand, and one of them was his age.

You’d keep these thoughts to yourself, of course. You’d seen people get shot for much less let alone question their superiors power.

The lamp flickered in the corner. The yellow light made him look sickly. The floor of the crate was rigged and unforgiving, but you preferred to stay where you were. In case Dazai needed anything.

And if it meant you got to settle the tightness in your chest by watching his own move steadily throughout the night, then no one else would have to know.

[empressofmankind]

On My Silent Days

I Miss You A Little Louder

[Crocodile x female!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 7k / 15 pages

A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.

Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.

You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.

What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.

Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.

My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."

Yes. That's it. That's the plot.

She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.

screams into a pillow

Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.

ON MY SILENT DAYS 

I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER

The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen. 

Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.

The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.

Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?

Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank. 

The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”

She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.

“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket. 

Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.

Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.

"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.

"No."

"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."

"I have changed my ways."

Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse." 

Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."

"Hah." 

The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."

She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.

She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.

They were very good.

Always had been.

Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.

Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.

She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.

Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."

He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.

"Or a dud's haul." 

He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.

"The entertainment isn't half bad."

“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”

Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”

She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.

“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?” 

Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.

"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.

Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note. 

"And if I do?"

She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.

He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.

Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.

She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.

He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours." 

Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke. 

“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend. 

Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’. 

She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.

Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response. 

Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.

Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.

She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.

She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.

The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.

“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.

Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in: 

“Yes, Sir.”

The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.

Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.

She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.

She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.

Almost. 

Almost there.

And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled. 

Look. No hands, motherfucker.

Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.

“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”

Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.

His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.

“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.

 “Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office. 

Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.

She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.

He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders. 

Shivs met his gaze, panting.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”

He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.

“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.

The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”

“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.

Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”

Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.

“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar. 

And lord, if she wasn't tempted.

“You share ‘em these days?”

His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet. 

“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.

Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”

Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”

“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.

She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”

He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand. 

“Come here, doll.”

It would have been too easy.

She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.

“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.

He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”

“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”

The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.

He pressed a kiss against it. 

“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.

Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”

Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.

Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.

“You still have those.”

He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?

“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.

“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.

“For now?”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips. 

“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.

When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.

“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.

“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”

“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”

“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

“Don’t tempt me- ah!”

Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.

“Like what you see?”

“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.

A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.

His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.

She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace. 

Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.

A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.

He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.

She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.

Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.

Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”

“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”

He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.

“Am I not a good girl, sir?”

“Yes, you are.”

Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.

“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.

Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.

“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.

“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.

The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain. 

“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”

He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her. 

“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"

Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.

“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give. 

“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”

“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”

Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.

“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”

All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.

“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”

“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her. 

“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”

“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.

When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.

“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”

She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”

“Beg. For it.”

“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him. 

“Please what?”

“Please, s-sir.”

The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.

“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again. 

“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”

“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”

“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.

“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…

He knew it, too. Remembered it.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”

She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.

They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.

“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.

Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”

A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.

She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.

He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.

Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.

Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.

He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”

Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.

“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”

Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”

A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”

Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.

“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.

He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.

“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.

“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.

“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.

“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”

Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”

Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.

“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“I, what? Why?” 

Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked. 

Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.

“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.

“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.

Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

A quiet sob escaped her.

"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”

~

Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite

(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.

If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??

[myemuisemo]

What Was the Fair Lady's Game? (a brief Hound of the Baskervilles post-action fic)

This is for @penig who suggested in response to my last Baskervilles post that Beryl and Laura should go into business together. I was bored in a meeting and had an idea of how it would happen.

The chill fog of the moor crept into Beryl Baskerville’s heart, wrapped itself like cotton around its chambers, and dwelt there, casting gloom over the simplest activities.

Standing on the edge of Grimpen Mire, beside kindly Dr. Watson and the genuine Sherlock Holmes, she had laughed at the prospect of her husband consigning himself to a muddy grave through his own hubris. When the visitors had undone her bonds and pulled away the towels that stifled her breath, the night of the great disaster, she had felt as if she might float away without them. 

Now, the weight of widowhood pressed her into her cold, empty bed. She missed Rodger—or Jack, as she’d come to call him. If she thought of his sneering eyes, or his hand striking a blow against her skin, or the shrinking humiliation of allowing Henry Baskerville to court her, she could push aside that sentiment for an hour, or even a day.

It was the memory of Jack smiling when he courted her under the sweet flowers of her home country, of Jack promising fortune and happiness in England, that hollowed her soul. All these years, as her husband’s perfidy had revealed itself, she had lived with the hope that someday, he would be wealthy, he would be satisfied, he would be honest. Now Jack would never better himself. His body would rot in the mire while his soul burned in hell… and she would starve in England.

She forced herself to choke down food, to take her daily walk, to breathe air thick with dirt and despair, to read the correspondence with Jack’s solicitor. Dr. Mortimer, Dr. Watson, and Sherlock Holmes had put their heads together with the local constabulary to see that Jack was declared dead, so everything he had was now hers.

If she rented a room somewhere, if she lived frugally, it might be enough. She, who had been Maria Magdalena Garcia Montealegre, the belle of Cartago and San José, must look forward to a life of re-sewing her dresses inside out to get another use of the fabric!

The one thing she would not do is put on mourning for the man who had abused her. She would not forgo future security to buy widow’s weeds. Nobody here in Devon knew her to be a widow anyway. They knew her only as the sister of the man who’d murdered Sir Charles Baskerville, beloved of the village and the countryside.

Every afternoon, in the little morning room that some prior tenant had papered in cheerful pink flowers, she sat at the escritoire, took pen in hand, and tried to write to some relative who might take pity on her. Her family in Costa Rica had approved the match on the condition that Jack become a citizen and enter the family business. His promises had been lies. Her choice had been a disgrace. Even if her mother were soft-hearted, her grandfather might not be. Could she bear to read a letter telling her that she could never go home?

The solicitor had also given her the addresses of family in London, all connections of a maternal cousin who’d brought an Englishwoman home as his second wife. Watching weak sunshine right the fog as her tea grew cold next to a blank sheet of paper, Beryl could almost laugh at imagining how that letter would go.

Dear Distant Cousin I’ve Never Met,

You don’t know me, but we are related through my mother and your uncle-in-law, the deposed President of Costa Rica. He is long gone to California, but I am stuck here in England. The small matter of my English husband having stolen, embezzled, and committed murder has left me in straitened circumstances. However, there is some hope that my social disgrace has spread no further than Devon. 

I am fluent in Spanish and English. I can sew, play pianoforte, and dance moderately well. My math is passable and my manners, excellent. If offered a position as a companion or governess, I promise to be modest and discreet, as well as to educate your daughters on the foolishness of following a man without fully knowing his character.

Yours humbly.

It was no use, and she knew it. Yet every day, she trod the grim path of her routine, never letting her steps stray from safety. One or two steps into the deceptive sweet green grasses, and she would die the way the wild ponies did, only in grateful silence. Yet, she did not.

On the seventeenth day of pacing the prison that a failed marriage had penned her in, the ancient butler announced: “A person is at the door to see you, miss.”

Curiosity poked at her weariness. Even a farmer coming to complain that his sheep had done something stupid on her land would be a diversion, for a moment. “Send them in.”

He returned, a long moment later, not with the expected stumpy man in overalls, hat in hand, but with a woman. The stranger was neatly dressed in a sensible brown suit, with a spray of matching feathers in her hat. Beneath the hat were tidy golden-brown curls, large golden-brown eyes, a straight nose sprinkled with freckles, and an expression so somber that Beryl knew this could be only one person. 

“Laura Lyons.”

“The same. I do not mean to intrude on your grief—”

“And yet here you are, to gawk at the widow of the man you sought to wed.” Had good manners not forbade her from slapping this interloper, Beryl might have risen from her chair and done it. As the banked flame of her anger flared, she felt herself come to life with it.

“I’m here to see if I can be of help.”

“Your help would have been to refuse the advances of my husband.”

“He called you his sister. Can you imagine how it would go if, every time a man introduced a woman as his sister, we all assumed she must be his wife? It would be nothing but scandal.” Laura Lyons paused, tugging at her gloves. “I know more than I’d like to about scandal. It’s a tedious way to live.”

“You think so?” Beryl’s fingers itched to throw the ink well. The splatter of dark liquid would mark that immaculate suit to match its wearer’s soul.

“I know so.” This time, Laura Lyons’ irritatingly confident voice was interrupted by the reappearance of the aged retainer, laboring under a tray with a fresh teapot and a plate of depressing little biscuits.

The routine of pouring tea, redolent of jasmine and gun powder—a better tea than Beryl had been offered since that terrible day of reckoning—cast a strange glamor of respectability over this encounter with a woman she must surely hate. Amidst the niceties of offering milk and sugar, Laura Lyons seated herself in an arm chair, as comfortable as a cat on a cushion.

Abruptly, Beryl missed the cats in her old home. Orange striped, brown striped, and plain black, they used to wind around the ankles of her gentleman callers. When they’d given generous berth to handsome, pale Rodger Baskerville, she’d joked that even the cats respected him.

“You don’t wear black either,” she blurted.

“It would be conspicuous.” Laura Lyons peeled off her gloves to sip her tea. “When would I put it off? What is the proper mourning period for the man who would have been one’s husband, save that he was already married and also, in passing, a murderer?”

“Surely you English have an etiquette manual for that.”

“I have looked up proper forms of business letters in Hill’s Manual more times than I can count. The book is comprehensive, yet that specific matter is not covered. Did Mr. Holmes mention that I am the daughter of your neighbor, Mr. Frankland?”

Beryl blinked at a fact as seemingly irrelevant as whether there’d be partridge for dinner. “I don’t recall.”

“Right. It would seem the least of your worries. I married foolishly, was disowned, ran away from the man once I learned better, and have since endeavored to make my own way, as far from him as possible. Your brother—your husband—meant to help me with proving my own husband’s brutality and infidelity, so that I might be free of him. Had I known he—your husband—was cut from the same cloth, I would have counted myself lucky to have been tied by law to only one scoundrel.”

The neatness with which Laura Lyons wiped overflowing tears was so very English. Beryl would have wailed and torn her hair—except that she hadn’t, not in seventeen days since that single day of disaster. She had feared and fought so long that now, she felt both too exhausted to weep and too fragile to be sure she could stop weeping once she started.

“Why are you here?”

“I want to know if you can type.” When Beryl stared blankly, Laura Lyons flexed her fingers as if she were playing pianoforte. “On a typewriter. Typing.”

“I have never.”

“You could learn.” Laura Lyons leaned forward, her eyes bright. “If you’re left comfortably, pay me no mind. But Jack—your husband—always talked as if there was little money to hand. I mean no insult to you, but I would be surprised if he left you well-placed. Perhaps your family is kinder than mine about forgiving your choice of a husband. But if they are not, if you are concerned about your future, I’d like to offer you a partnership.”

A knot of stubbornness formed in Beryl’s throat. She forced tea past it. “A partnership. With my husband’s paramour?”

“Is that any more scandalous than being your husband’s wife?”

Beryl’s belly shrank within the confines of her corset. Her clothes had begun to hang loose, and now she felt as if her very skin would shrivel and leave her bones. “People will talk. His death must be all over Coombe Tracey.”

“The Barrymores can count on a free pint at the pub every time they tell the story of how they served dinner to a murderer. I pray they never learned my name or part in the matter, but—I cannot be sure. I wish to relocate to London.”

“And you think I will go with you?” There it was again—that weightless feeling. When Jack had dragged her to London, fearing to leave her in Devon, she had feigned distress at the noise and filth, but she had imagined, over and over, slipping into the crowds and never reappearing. In a city of over five million, it would be easy to lose herself.

“If you have somewhere better to go, perhaps you would have gone by now. Two women typists together can earn enough money to rent a respectable flat in London, particularly if we have the patronage of Mr. Holmes.”

“The patronage?”

“I propose to ask his help in setting up a typing bureau staffed by women of respectable appearance and behavior, who are escaping terrible marriages. Typists see all sorts of documents which might help him in his cases, and we are entrusted to the point of seeming invisible. If he will give us a little help at the beginning, we might do him a great deal of good in the end.”

Beryl met Laura Lyons’ level gaze. To fall in with this plan, she must rip off the last rags of her love for Jack. She could not put her trust in this woman while thinking daily of what Jack must have said to her, how Jack must have wooed her, whether Jack kissed one of them while his lips were still warm from the other. It would be an absolute ending to her marriage, more permanent than Jack’s plunge into the Grimpen Mire.

“How did you do it? How did you decide not to hate me?”

“After Mr. Holmes told me what Jack had done, I hated everyone, including myself. That was exhausting. On the fourth morning of putting cold compresses on my red eyes, so nobody would know I’d been weeping for a man with no conscience or morals, it struck me that not one of our problems would exist if Jack had possessed a single scruple or shred of decency.” 

Laura Lyons plucked a sad biscuit from the plate, looked it over, and set it on her saucer without taking a bite. “Perhaps it was that I’d scarcely slept or eaten for days, but feeling guilty because I’d believed a man who set out to be believable no longer made sense. By the same logic, I could not blame you for being deceived, nor for existing.”

“Jack chose to court you, knowing he was married.” Beryl said it as if she were reciting an English lesson to her long-ago governess. The cow stands under the tree. My aunt goes to the ball. My husband is a liar and a cad. Her hand in her lap clenched.

“I thought it miraculous. I had no hope of finding love again with an honorable man. In that, it turns out I was right.”

Beryl looked over her visitor again, slowly. Laura Lyons was a pretty woman, certainly, all burnished gold in coloring. She was poised, confident, professional—a creature of offices and shop counters, not the kind of butterfly Beryl herself had been raised to be. 

Laura set down her tea cup and lifted her chin. Her frank gaze now seemed less a challenge and more a vulnerability. Jack had seen that vulnerability and chosen to exploit it. He had taken the poise Beryl now envied—a woman able to make her own way in the world!—and twisted it to his own ends.

“I’ll do it,” Beryl said. Her deep breath cracked some bond that her rescuers had not seen nor unwound. “I’ll learn to type and go to London with you.”

She held out her hand to shake on the deal as she burst into tears.

#

There's an actual President of Costa Rica who has the surname I allocated Beryl from her mother. I gave her an entirely different Christian name because "Beryl" is positively not Spanish, and the nearest translation, "berilo," doesn't work as a girl's name.

The typing bureau is also inspired by Miss Climpson's typing bureau in the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries.

Way back when I was seven or eight years old and read the Holmes stories for the first time, with mixed and spotty comprehension, I felt inspired to write a story about two teenage girls who lived upstairs from Holmes and Watson and had adventures. My mother got wind of this plan and was appalled at the idea of fanfic. While I've since written fic on other properties, I felt the time had come at last to do a little story where two women hatch a plan that could have them living upstairs from Holmes and Watson, while having adventures.

[emeraldart]

We need more swap AUs with Willow as the human so I made one myself. Everyone stays the same but Willow and Luz switch places. The first episode is under the cut — it’s pretty long. I’ll probably be doing comics and and other random eps later!

Willow Park sat in the principal’s office, crossing her arms. Principal Hal briefly addresses her parents. She blew some dyed blue-green hair from her eyes, eyeing her science project wearily. So what if her robot malfunctioned? This wouldn’t have happened if she just got to study botany as she’d wanted. 

“Mr. Parks, your daughter’s project went disastrously wrong. Again,” Principal Hal said, bluntly, “Her grades have been slipping lately. I fear that if her grades don’t improve, we’ll have to send her to summer school.”

“That seems awfully drastic,” Papa defended.

“I don’t know, Gil, we do want her to succeed in life,” Dad countered.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Willow declared. 

“This is the first of many incidents, Willow,” Papa said, “I think you should really consider this.”

Before she knew it, Willow was staring outside her house, waiting for the bus to summer school. She fiddled with her small cactus. She took her plants everywhere with her, despite her fathers protests that botany wouldn’t open nearly as many opportunities. 

“Don’t worry, Will,” Dad comforted, “You’ll be so busy learning mechanics… and doing math, the time will fly by!”

“But I don’t like any of that stuff!” Willow protested. “I like working on my garden and being outside!”

“This is all so you get better opportunities,” Papa said, “You’ll make so many friends, but you have to try and let this gardening stuff go.”

“Ok…”

Willow threw away her cactus, frowning. Her dads left and she immediately started to dig through the trash for her beloved plant. It was gone. Willow looked up, spotting a small owl holding the little pot in its mouth. Owls weren’t supposed to be out during the day… and they definitely didn’t fish plants out of the trash. She chased it, following it through the old shack near her house through an odd door with an eye on it.

“Get back here you adorable little owl!” 

Willow paused when she realized she was in a tent. She fingered a strange blue plant. She’d seen weird plants before, but never like this. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a voice.

“Finally, you’re back.” 

Willow peered through the flaps of the tent, seeing a strange, old lady. She had gray hair and gold eyes. Her skin was so pale it was practically white. 

“Now, let’s see what we got here.”

The owl flies to the top of her large stick, and the lady spun it around. The owl turned to wood. Willow held back a gasp, readying herself. For what, she was not sure. 

The lady took out a phone. “Garbage.” She took out a ring. “Garbage.” She took out some brilliantly shiny chalice. “Garbage.” 

She took out some joke glasses with springs. “Now this…” The lady put them on. “This will make me rich!”

Willow gasps quietly as the woman grabbed her plant.

“This… eh, I don’t really have a use for this,” the lady gestured to throw out the plant.

Willow ran in and grabbed it, nervously mumbling an apology before making a break for it. She pulled the flap of the tent aside, running up to the weird door. It proceeds to fold up, disappearing into a small briefcase. Willow turned around, facing her strange pursuer.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she threatened.

Willow held in a shriek and dove under the tent. She skidded to a stop as she found herself at the edge of a cliff. Dragons flew through the air. Giant bugs functioned as buses. Disgustingly fascinating beasts roamed. Willow screamed.

“This… this is a dream, right?” she laughed, nervously. A fairy flew up next to her. “Oh… uh, nice fairy…”

“Give me your skin!” the fairy cried.

Willow yelped and swatted the fairy to the floor, flinching.

“Am I dead? I’m dead, aren’t I? This is the bad place then, I guess,” Willow rambled.

“You wish,” the same woman from before grabs Willow’s shoulder and drags her back to the tent, sitting her down on a stool. Willow clenched her fists, ready to fight back if she had to.

“I’m just here for my plant. Please, don’t eat my skin. And if you try… you’ll uh, regret it!” Willow threatened or at least tried to. 

“Eat you? Why would I eat… a potential customer?” Willow tilted her head, confused. 

“Can I offer you a human foot filled with holes?” she took out a green croc. “A bar of green human candy? Oh, oh! How about this black shadow box that reflects only sadness?” She grabbed a bar of deodorant, followed by an old-fashioned television. 

Willow laughed. “It can do waaaay more than that.”

She looked around the table before finding some batteries. She took the television from the lady and placed the batteries in, turning it on. An old exercise video starts playing. A crowd immediately gathered. People started to bid higher and higher amounts of money for it, asking unusual questions. 

“What did you say your name was?” the woman asked.

“...Willow, Willow Park,” Willow told her, hesitantly.

“Well, Willow, that was pretty clever… for a human,” the woman said.

“For a human?”

“Oh, dear child,” she began, removing her bandanna to reveal two pointy ears. “I’m not like you.” She jumped onto the table. “I’m Eda the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles!” 

“A witch?” Willow asked.

“I am respected, feared-” she continued before she was cut off by a masked stranger smashing the T.V.

“Busted!” the guard said, as customers started to scatter. “Eda the Owl Lady, you are wanted for misuse of magic and demonic misdemeanors.” Willow gasped. “You are hereby ordered to come with me to the Conformatoruium! 

Eda freed her arm. “Will you guys quit following me around? I haven’t done squat.”

The guard ignored her. “And you’re coming too,” he grabbed Willow, who yelped, “for fraternizing with a criminal.” 

“Hey!” Willow flailed around, uselessly. 

“Oh, all right, all right, you win,” Eda conceded. “Just let me get my stuff.”

She rummaged under the table, grabbing the staff from earlier. She swung the staff, hitting the guard. He hit the floor with a thud. Eda spun the staff, making all the contents of her stand float before drifting into a bundle on her staff. Willow shakily got up.

“Whoops, can’t forget this.” Eda pulled a key out of her hair, pressing a button. The door-turned-briefcase vanishes. 

“Follow me, human.” 

Willow ran after her. “This is crazy! I’m gonna die here!” 

“Ha! I won’t let them hurt you,” Eda said, cocky. “A human like you is more valuable to me alive than dead.” 

“Are you trying to be suspicious? I can’t believe-” Willow yelled as Eda cheered, pulling them both onto the staff and taking off. 

The guard ran in, seconds too late. “You won't get away with this, Owl Lady! Yeah, all right. You did. You got away with it. She got away with it, everybody! Typical.”

Eda flew through the skies, Willow keeping her eyes screwed shut.

“You can open your eyes now, human.” 

Willow gasped when she saw they were flying. “Okay, it’s just a flying staff, some monsters, and a witch. That’s a normal Earth thing.” 

Eda laughed. “This is the Boiling Isles. Every myth you humans have is caused by a little of our world leaking into yours.” 

Creatures flew by, including a strange lion with the head of a pigeon. Willow vaguely recognized it as a griffin from folklore, although more grotesque. It proceeded to breathe out a stream of living spiders, falling from the sky.

“Eww…” Willow murmured. 

“Yep. Griffins, vampires, giraffes-” Eda listed before Willow cut her off.

“Giraffes?” 

“Oh yeah, we banished those guys. Bunch of freaks.” 

Eda landed the staff and jumped off. Her hand remained. It moved, causing Willow to jump off the staff in shock. 

“Oops,” she said, screwing it back on, “That happens sometimes.” 

“Well… this has been, uh, interesting,” Willow said. “But I really have to get going. Mind helping me get back home?” 

“Only if you help me first,” Eda chuckled. “Ah, now come along, human.” 

Willow gasped as a peculiar house came into view. Owls flew around, laughing. She didn’t know owls could do that. The house itself was reasonably tall, with a tower and a large window resembling an eye. 

“I won’t have to fight off any guards, will I?” Willow worried. 

“Nope. My house has a state-of-the-art defense system.” 

A strange… owl… sits on the door, tilting its head. It was round with large eyes. 

“Hoot-hoot! Password, please!” it (he?) bellowed. 

Eda poked his eyes, making him shout.

“We got no time for this, Hooty. Let us in,” Eda grumbled. 

“All right, all right! Geez! You have let me have any fun! Ow! Hoot!” Hooty complained. 

Hooty opened his mouth to encompass the door. Willow winced as they walked in, although fascinated.

“Welcome to…” Eda snapped her fingers, “the Owl House!”

The candles lit up and Willow looked around in wonder. 

“Where I hide away from the pressures of modern life. Also the cops. Also ex-boyfriends.” 

“I really respect that,” Willow said, “So do you live here all alone?” 

“Actually,” Eda replied, “I have a roommate.” 

A shadow loomed from the hall. “Who dares intrude upon I, the King of Demons?” The creature stepped out to reveal a small, dog-like creature with a skull on his head. He squeaked a rubber duck. Willow scooped him up.

“You’re so cute! Eda, who’s this little cutie?” Willow cooed. 

“I’m not cute!” King whined. “Eda, who is this monster?” 

Eda pulled Willow away from King. “Oh, this is Willow, the human. She’s here to help us with our little… situation.”

“Oh, hooray!” King cheered. 

“Wait. I definitely don’t like the sound of whatever your situation is. I just want to get home,” Willow said. 

“Just… let me explain,” Eda sighed. “King was once a mighty king of demons, until his Crown of Power was stolen, and became… this.” Willow cooed at King again. “The crown is being held by the evil Warden Wrath and locked away behind a magical force field only a human can break through. A human like you. If you help us retrieve his crown, we’ll send you back to your realm. So whaddya say?” 

“It doesn’t seem like I’m being given a choice here,” Willow grumbled. 

“Nope. We got no time to lose,” Eda grabbed Willow’s arm and they walked off.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere super fun!” 

The group found themselves at an ominous building, lightning crackling around them. A selection of wanted posters covered the wall as the group stared up at the castle-like structure. 

“The Conformatorium. A place for those considered unsuitable for society,” Eda deadpanned. 

Willow peeled Eda’s wanted poster off the wall. “Woah. These guys really are after you, huh?”

“Yep. But we’re never caught because we’re too slippery,” Eda said with a wink.

“Try to catch me when I’m covered in grease. I’m a squirmy little fella. You and I will sneak up to the top of the tower, where they’re keeping my crown,” King squealed.

“And I’m gonna make sure the Warden’s distracted,” Eda added. 

“I didn’t bring a disguise,” Willow said.

“Eh, I don’t think you’ll need one,” Eda reassured her. “Just punch anyone that gives you trouble.”

“You get me, Eda, you get me.” 

Eda slammed her staff onto the ground, creating a disk that lifted them up. “Hang on tight. See you guys at the top of the tower!”

The disk floated up to the window, letting Willow and King reach the inside of the tower. The duo moved through the hall, eyes catching the cells.

“Hey, lady, how’d you get out of your cell?” a prisoner asked. 

“Oh, um, I’m not a criminal,” Willow replied. 

“Neither are we,” the prisoner grumbled. “The stupid warden likes to lock up people who don’t fit in. Like, I write fanfics of food falling in love. I like food, I like love… Just let me write about it!” 

“I’m here because I like eating my own eyes,” another prisoner added. 

“We are agents of fwee expwession! They will never siwence us!” a small prisoner cried.

“Yeah, she’s really into conspiracy theories,” the first prisoner groaned. 

“The world is a simulation! We are but playthings for a higher being!” 

“That’s… that’s not right. You guys just… want to be yourselves. Like me,” Willow murmured. 

Willow was briefly distracted by some footsteps, running into a cell and pulling the bars in front of her. She covered her mouth as a man, the Warden, she assumed, thundered in. His emotionless mask met the prisoners. 

“I can hear you,” he said. “Just what are you fools whispering about?” He picked up Eda’s fallen poster. “Ah, the Owl Lady.” The Warden’s arm warped into a hammer, slamming into Willow’s cell. “I’ll get my hands on her soon enough.” 

He briefly glanced into Willow’s cell, where she held King protectively. The small prisoner shouted defiantly, causing the Warden to open to cell and grab her. 

“Let this be a lesson to all of you. There’s no place for you in society if you can’t fit in.”

Willow waited as he stomped away, before clambering out of the cell. She approached the other prisoners. 

“I can still get you guys out… at least,” she smiled, weakly, opening their cells. “Good luck!” 

Willow ran off, reaching Eda. She flew through the halls on her staff. She told Willow the Warden was distracted. Willow grew uneasy at the thought of him torturing the prisoner she failed to rescue. They eventually reached a large door labeled “Contraband.” King eagerly ran up to the door, cheering about power. Eda laughed at his antics.

“Why are they locked up here? They’re just being themselves…” Willow said, more to herself than Eda. 

She snapped out of her thoughts to find King attempting and failing to break through a glimmering barrier. Willow took a breath before walking into the pillar, finding piles of confiscated junk. At the top, she saw a glowing crown. She winced. That couldn’t be it… Willow groaned as King eagerly grabbed for the Burger Queen crown.

“That crown doesn’t give him any powers, does it?” 

“Uh, no. Oh, look at us Willow. King and I don’t have much in this world, we only have each other. So if that dumb crown is important to him, it’s important to me. Besides, us weirdos have to stick together.”

Willow got caught off guard by the comment. She was used to avoiding her weirdness in an attempt to keep her grades up and keep bullies away. She always kept her head down. 

“Well, we owe you one. Let’s get out of here before the Warden finds out and loses his head.”

The Warden stormed in. “Too late.” 

With a sharp swing, he cut off Eda’s head. It fell into Willow’s arms, who shrieked in shock. 

“Ow. I hate it when that happens.” Willow fought the urge to retch. 

“Normally I’d question this but…” Willow groaned, “This really isn’t the weirdest thing to happen today.”

The Warden proceeded to give a speech to Eda, ending with… asking her out? Willow commented on the misogyny of holding someone hostage to ask them out. Wrath grabbed her, yelling to stay out of it. Guess he didn’t appreciate social justice. Willow wriggled to get free as Eda spit in his face. Taking the opportunity, Willow grabbed Eda’s staff and slammed it over the Warden. She grabbed Eda’s head and bolted. Eda’s body freed King and they all climbed onto the staff.

“How does this work exactly?”

“Gun it, magic stick!” Eda commanded. 

Wrath gave chase as they flew through the halls. Willow reached out and pulled as many levers as she could freeing the prisoners. Wrath’s tentacle-like arms got closer, and they all fell to the ground outside the Conformatorium. Willow tried to help but they waved her off, telling her to return to the human realm. She found the prisoners from before, but they had no desire to escape. 

“Don’t you get it?” Willow asked, “It doesn’t matter if you’re weird, or unconventional, or just do things differently. Sometimes success is being happy, not just doing what you’re supposed to be doing.” 

“Why are you helping us?”

“Because us weirdos have to stick together,” Willow cheered, “And no one should be punished for who they are!” 

The Warden had Eda and King cornered. Willow and the other prisoners tackled him, Willow using Eda’s staff in an attempt to knock him unconscious. The prisoners tied his tentacle arms together, rendering his attacks useless. Humiliated, he ran, and Willow cheered. 

They flew back to the Owl House, where, as promised, Eda got the door ready. King and Eda waved goodbye, and Willow looked at them wistfully. A magical world was right here. Summer school was back home. 

“I don’t know,” Willow began. “My dads want me to be happy, but I don’t want to keep learning stupid engineers. I want to study plants and learn how to help them grow. This place is full of magic to do stuff like that here.”

“What exactly are you proposing, kid?” Eda asked.

“I want to stay and become a witch, like you.”

“That’s ridiculous, humans can’t become witches,” Eda smirked.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

King climbed onto Eda’s shoulders. “Let her stay! She can make us snacks.” 

“All right. I could use some help keeping this goofball out of the cupboards,” Eda conceded. “I can teach you anything about spells or whatever plant nerd stuff if you work for me.”

“Deal.”

So Willow found herself getting ready for bed in the Owl House. Her sleeping bad uncurled fully as she hit the ground and yawned. Her phone buzzed. 

Dad: How’s summer camp?

Papa: Are you having fun?

Willow looked up, to where King had entered the room.

“Your sleep cocoon looks fluffy,” he said, awkwardly. Willow patted it, gesturing him to come to sit. He curled into a little ball next to her. She smiled warmly.

Willow: I think I’m gonna like it here.

[bullshit-bulltrue]

☆ hawk talk 8/16/23 ☆

i was waiting at the front of the school with the rest of the entire school for them to open the doors

and what happened?

all the girls were screaming because of a fucking cicada.

my ears have hurt less from listening to death rock at max volume.

I. WAS. NOT. PREPARED. FOR 40 GIRLS SCREAMING THEIR LUNGS OUT.

oh and uh it was funny bc at one point delgado started jumping up and down to catch the cicada lol

oh and speaking of him, when the staff let us in the school building we had to still wait in the quad(i think that's what we call it) for an other 20 minutes and it turns out i was sorta close to him and his friends while waiting and we made eye contact and he waved at me <3

and his friends kinda just like,, looked at me and i'm like uh hi?

LIKE TF

yeah uh

delgado is really cool but i don't think his friends are too fond of me *awkwardly zones out and questions life bc i haven't been mean and i don't want real chill people to hate me bc that has happened way too many times*

SO ANYWAY-

oh yeah i forgot something

HOW THE HELL DO I ALWAYS END UP WALKING BEHIND DELGADO?? LIKE BITCH RESPECTFULLY MOVE OUT THE WAY I CANNOT SEE OVER YOU YOU'RE LIKE AT LEAST 3 INCHES TALLER THAN ME AND I AM ALREADY BLIND AS IT IS

but like it's better than all the taller people being behind me and me almost getting trampled

so.. yeah ig...

nothing much happened in history

it was boring

but my desk buddy was acting pretty cool

i still don't like her but i don't necessarily hate her rn

um math was the same ??

oh we learned a way easier way to solve a particular kind of equation!!!!

IM REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THAT!

OH AND THEN WE HAD ENGLISH!!

AND OMG SO THE TEACHER HAD BEEN PRONOUNCING BASEBALL GUY'S NAME WRONG FOR A WEEK AND A HALF OMFG

AND LIKE I KNEW SHE WAS PRONOUNCING IT WRONG BC THERE WAS NO WAY HIS NAME SOUNDED THAT STUPID

Y'ALL I CAN'T-

AND THEN THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED HAPPENED:

Mrs. k: *road call* *says baseball guy's name*

baseball guy: here

mrs. k: i'm not pronouncing that right, am i?

baseball guy: nope.

mrs. k: *waits for him to pronounce it right* ... *guesses and actually gets it right*

baseball guy: *still don't fucking say anything*

(he's jut like this when it comes to the english teacher so the whole not talking thing isn't like strange behavior or anything)

oh and delgado's short bestie had to do testing still so he had to go to another classroom

and like

we have a new student. she sat at our table. so uh,, yeah

it was like kinda awkward cus any time i tried engaging in conversation with her she didn't answer me and i was like okay you're probably not a bitch and ur just shy that's fine but like i wanted to scream

BASEBALL GUY IS QUIET TOO BUT AT LEAST HE SPEAKS WHEN SPOKEN TO GODDAMN

so it was awkward just having someone literally just watch me and my friend speak for a while but then i was like fuck you and completely tuned her out

AND WAS NO ONE GONNA TELL ME HOW PAINSTAKINGLY AWKWARD IT IS FOR YOU AND SOMEONE ELSE TO GRAB THE SAME SHEET OF PAPER MULTIPLE TIMES BC LIKE ALL THE PAPERS WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESK AND ME AND BASEBALL GUY KEPT REACHING FOR THE SAME PAPER LIKE FIVE FUCKING TIMES AND AT ONE POINT I WAS LIKE NAW BESTIE I'M JUST PUTTING MY HAND DOWN AND I JUST WAITED FOE HIM TO GIVE ME THE PAPERS BC HOLY SHIT I WANTED TO SHRIVEL UP AND DIE (let it die, let it die, let it shrivel up and die! was written about me actually)

oh and like we used this one program to measure our lexile and like i was the only student who's never used it before

so i'm like hha idk what to do <3

and mrs. k explained it and basically you read and get quizzed and that's it and like i didn't know where to find my test score so like i wrote down the wrong answer on my log 😭😭

AND THE NUMBER FOR LIKE A CERTAIN PART OF THE THINGY WAS 8 PLUS 20 BONUS POINTS

SO I WROTE THAT DOWN

AND THEN DELGADO SAW AND HE'S LIKE [INSERT DEAD NAME) THAT AIN'T RIGHT 💀 SMTH AIN'T ADDIN UP

so then i was like WHERE TF DO I LOOK FOR MY SCORE THEN

and yeah when i gave him my chromebook to show me where tf to look i just had to scroll down 😭😭

and then he was like "oh you got a hundred, good job!" and then i mentally started doing a happy dance <3

and then we like did our english journal thing to where we had to glue shit and put tabs in our notebook and stuff and it was actually fun !!

and then we had to number a bunch of pages and i treated it like a race in my head bc i'm like that and even tho nobody technically knew i was racing, i WON, bitches

so then i decided to bother delgado at lunch again 🙃

well idk if i bothered him per se, or his friends 💀

so like my mom has been packing me dragon fruit everyday for lunch and i got burned out this week so i gave it to delgado's friend Alex

and he's like "why you keep giving me this 😃" and he's like naw i still want it but like why

and i'm like "because i'm fucking nice 🙂"

nah i just said that i was burned out and shit

so yeah

and brO-

DELGADO HAS THE BEST CURSED IMAGE COLLECTION I HAVE EVER SEEN LIKE I SERIOUSLY NEED TO UP MY GAME Y'ALL

I SWEAR I ALMOST CHOKED ON MY POZOLE THREE TIMES

oh and like i also gave delgado the tortillas my mom packed me bc i wasn't that hungry and i did not think that him eating the school good was a good idea bc it's on a prison level of shitty ngl

so then this bitch takes the tortillas, and him and alex start slapping each other in the face with them 😭😭

ALEX THROWS THE TORTILLA ACROSS THE FUCKING MESS HALL DUDES

AND THEN DELGADO TAKES THE 3RD TORTILLA AND CRUMPLES IT UP AND WRAPS IT INTO A BALL IN THE TINFOIL AND THROWS IT AT SOMEONE'S HEAD

THIS BITCH IS A MENACE

oh and yo i found out that Alex is of puerto rican descent and i'm like so glad that the group i hang out with is all latino

except lanie, she's the token gringa, but that's alright, it's not her fault <3

so then from the mess hall, me and delgado are headed the same way bc our lockers are sorta close to one another

and THIS BITCH

so i put my stuff back in my locker, right?

well now i'm having to exit the hallway for our grade and it's loud as fuck and then all a sudden i hear delgado yelling my name and he's running up to me and is like "HEY! WE NEED OUR CHROMEBOOKS!"

wait let's format it like this:

okay from the top:

d: *running up to me and yelling bc it's loud asf* HEY! [INSERT LEGAL NAME] WE NEED OUR CHROMEBOOKS!!!"

m: WHAT?? (m stands for Me) AGAIN???

d: YEAH

*runs to my locker to grab it*

random ass teacher: hey! go around!

(we have a system where you enter the hallway one way, and if you need to go back, you have to exit and start all over. it sucks ass. i hate it)

m: *running to catch up with d after getting my chromebook bc we have PE in the same period*

my gym coach: oh no, only the boys need it bc they didn't do the form yet

m: *ready to lay on the gym floor and cry* oh, okay! *acts happy bc i ain't bout to be a weak bitch infront of her*

m: *runs like my life depends on it to my locker to put my chromebook back and runs back to the gym* (THE GYM AND MY GRADE HALLWAY ARE NOT CLOSE TO EACH OTHER, AT ALL Y'ALL)

(LITERALLY RUNNING TO THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE SCHOOL)

I WAS ALMOST LATE BUT I BARELY MADE IT BEFORE THE TARDY BELL RANG AND I SWEAR I DID A FUCKING MILE SINCE I RAN BACK AND FORTH LIKE 4 TIMES SO ME THINKS THAT COUNTS FOR ENOUGH PE

and then we had to do like fitness testing and we did:

push-ups, sit ups, crunches, shuttle runs, a lap around the volleyball court, and then basketball

AND WE DO THE MILE ON FRIDAY, IF IT DOESN'T RAIN!!!!!

I'M SO EXCITED FOR THAT !!!!

^^ this is genuine, y'all. i love running so much!! yk, except for when it's back and forth across the entire school trying not to be late

AND LIKE I WAS SO FUCKING PISSED AT DELGADO BC DEEP DOWN I KNEW I DIDN'T NEED MY CHROMEBOOK BC WE DID THAT SHIT YESTERDAY

but then i was like why am i mad at him? it's not like he knew or anything so i didn't yell at him or anything lol

and then at the end of school when i passed him in the hallway, we said our goodbyes and yeah since i have first lunch tomorrow –technically today but whatever– we don't have the same lunch schedule, but i'll probably eat lunch with him on Friday, so that's cool!

oh and also, since i hate broadcast with a burning passion, my mom is going to go raging bitch mode in my school until i get an elective in my grade hallway that i want <3

and i want an elective in my grade hallway so i have 3rd lunch so that i don't ever have to eat lunch alone bc i look like a sad girl with no friends when i have 1st lunch and my anxiety peaks so yeah

I HOPE YOU LIKED TODAY <3

well technically yesterday but whatever fuck off

it's now 3:30am and i need to sleep

i woke up at 1am for no reason so??

yeah lol

night <3

[occult-roommates]

Back to square one

A week had passed since the failed confession fiasco. Still, Dawud never came back to the apartment, except briefly that morning to gather his stuff in a suitcase. When he wasn’t at work, he wandered around the city, seeking shelters in various ways. He blocked absolutely everyone in his new life in San Myshuno, he did not want to see them, he could not handle it. Pretty much all of them or close are occults in one way or another, and he just out of nowhere went on this insane rant against them. Even if he was just pissed off and didn’t meant any of it, it’s pretty damn hard to apologize about that when he pretty much just said the same hateful rhetorics his occult roommates have heard against their kind all the time ever since they were little. If he were them he would not want an apology, they’d be dead to him. Hell, no need to pretend he’s an occult, if Daniele had called him a dirty Arab or a terrorist or something, he wouldn’t be friend with him anymore.

It kept on running through his head, that one question: why did he say that? He knows he didn’t meant it, he was just pissed and wanted to strike Daniele where it hurt, but why did he went there? Is this what he always believed deep down? He likes to believe he was raised to be a pretty open-minded guy, but you know, nobody is perfect. It felt a bit like as after spending years feeling numb, now all of his emotions were too intense for his own good.

So now, he was doing just like what he did the last time he fucked up massively, when he failed an assigment so hard he told himself “fuck it, I’m dropping out”. Cause not only was he avoiding the people he loved, he was now leaving everything, his new job, his new friends, his new life, everything, to live with Audrey and be a depressed mess. And in both case, it was kind of an impulse, an impulse for a complete rerouting of his life, but an impulse. Uh, he never really saw himself as the impulsive kind, but maybe he is deep down. Anyway, he still had to prevent Audrey he’s coming, so he was on the phone with her to tell her...the new. She took well the idea of him coming back, not so much the reason however.

Dawud: Assuming my flight won’t get delayed I should be there by around uh...Wait I’m taking the time zone into account let me do the math...Damn ok I should be here by...maximum 3 PM. Audrey: Ok but at that time I might be at work so I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. And speaking of time zone it’s like 6 AM in Strangerville so I’m going back to sleep before my alarm clock rings. See you later. Ralf: Dawud???

Dawud turned around and saw the tall man kinda run-walk towards him, before unexpectedly hugging him. Ralf was also one of the many people he blocked, luckily he didn’t came across him while at work that week, but you know, it was only a matter of time before he’d see him at the airport.

Ralf: Daniele told me what happened, he’s worried sick about you. All of us were.  Dawud: Why should he worry me, I hurt him deeply. It’s not logical, he should hate me. I would hate me if I were him. Ralf: Well, he’s still your friend. You might have messed up, but it seems like he’s still willing to give you a second chance if you explain yourself a little bit and apologize.

Well, that was reassuring. Still, he wasn’t backing out of his decision. First of all the plane ticket was already bought, second of all he has quit his job and he doesn’t have the patience to get a new one in San Myshuno, third of all Audrey is gonna be real disappointed if he tells her he’s actually not going back to live with her. And he’s been disappointing enough people as of late. So, he sat down with Ralf on a bench, the same bench they had their first conversation months and months prior.

Dawud: I really don’t know why I said that. It feels like I’ve been possessed but you know, saying “oh I wasn’t acting like myself” is such a bullshit excuse for shitty behavior. I am me, everything I do is myself, unless I’m acting. If I’m actively lying then that means myself is a liar. Ralf: Every time I talk to you Dawud, it seems like you’re just now finding out at 23 that human beings can be messy and complicated, and you’re absolutely floored by this fact. Dawud: And all of that because I got rejected, that’s so stupid! I mean, in my defense, I never got rejected before, but still, I feel like at my age I should be handling it better than that. Most teenagers probably handle it better than that. Ralf: I mean, I did even more moronic and life ruining things just for some spellcaster’s bussy.  Dawud: I...I...Please never say that word in front of me ever again??? Especially when we’re having a serious conversation. Ralf: Moronic?

Ralf started rambling that Dawud shouldn’t leave, the airlines he works at, Wind-enbair, doesn’t fly to the western United States. In fact, San Myshuno is pretty much the only destination out of Europe that they offer with the exception of some North African resort towns. That is pretty much only because San Myshuno is the world capital and has several European communities there, along with like every continents, but Wind-enbair is a German airlines. Dawud didn’t care. He’s wants to act as if the whole of 2019 never happened.

Dawud: But I swear I don’t actually hate occults. Like, I’ve been living with them for months and even before, Audrey is 1/4 fairy on her mother’s side...I don’t even know what point I’m trying to make anymore. Ralf: Hell, I could be an occult. You don’t know me...I mean, I am not. But I could be...  Dawud: A-Are you??? Ralf: Nah. You saw me touch water and I didn’t turn half-fish, I do not have blue skin and fangs like a vampire, I wish I had powers like a spellcaster or a fairy, and werewolves cannot be pilot. Dawud: Wait really? Werewolves can’t? Ralf: Yeah, that sucks for them. I know a guy who accidentally got turned into one, ruined his career and then pretty much his entire life. Awful...Anyway, on brighter news, I heard Akva had her baby. She’s pretty cute. Dawud: I didn’t know you were in contact with my ex-roommates to be honest like first Daniele and now her? Ralf: Well, I don’t really reach out to them, it’s always the other way around, and just them. I never met your other roommates. But like, speaking of Akva, I hope she’s ok. I remember when I had my first son, he too was an accident but he quickly became the best part of my life. He’d be around your age nowadays...I miss him. Dawud: What why? Why do you... Ralf: I need to go!

The older man stood up and started walking away, almost running from his younger friend. To be honest, Ralf was switching from topic to topic in hope of making Dawud change his mind about going back to Strangerville. But now, he had said too much, way way too much. In fact he’s been saying too much this entire conversation, but that was the straw that broke the camel back!

Cause to also be honest, there are many things about him that Dawud do not know, and he does not want him to find out about it. Maybe it’s better this way that Dawud doesn’t want to see him ever again actually...

Prev - Next

[scoriol]

over the course of my life i’ve learned that you never really forget people. from the guy you got with in a club when you were barely legal to the random kid in your math class when you were 13; you never really forget the people you once knew. its not like you actively remember them, but there’s always something that reminds you of someone. and every time i sit on a plane and hear the pilot make an announcement, i think of you. i think of 16 when you were dead set on flying and i remember being excited about the idea of me being on a plane that you’d fly someday. i always had this stupid dream of me sat in business class on SQ and you being the pilot. you’d give me a little shoutout and i’d be able to see you in the cockpit. i never pictured this particular dream as anything more than platonic; i feel like we’ve always just wanted to see the other do well.

i helped you with your silly graduation speech, you made stupid jokes about how i’m too smart for you (truth is you’re a lot smarter than i am). even when i was back in singapore last year all i really asked your mum was about you flying. when you called me you asked if i was happy, if i was eating better and if i was a lawyer yet (amongst many other things). i guess we never really stopped believing in each other. but why do we even care? why do either of us actually care? is it because we invested a decent fraction of our lives on each other? is it because we needed to hear that the other is nowhere close to where we thought we’d be when we were 16? idk are we just going through a really fucking crazy transitional period in our lives and felt this inexplicable need to relive simpler days? do we just remind each other of us at 16 and stupid? or is it not that complicated and did we just miss each other lol. i don’t know and i guess i need to stop wondering. all i know is right now i’m thousands of ft above the ground in an airplane and i’m thinking about you. i think of you and the dreams you had and i hope you never stop chasing them. because all those late nights we spent talking, all the polaroids we ripped, all the no contact only to be closer than ever 3 months later and all the heartache had to have meant something. we didn’t go through all that just to be nothing? and if our “friendship” is dead then the least we can do is keep those stupid dreams alive right? idk i just want us but more importantly me to actually chase those dreams. life hasn’t felt right lately. it’s good and ritik is amazing to me but i know i’m not where i’m meant to be right now. so here’s to believing in our 16 year old dreams as we forget each other.

[venomsvl]

- When i said I love you pt.2 Teaser

Summary: The reader learns to move on with her life after dealing with such great loses and later in her life reunits with her first love.

A/n: this is still in progress so please dont pressure me into finishing it because its currently exam season and i have a pure 2 math exam tomorrow

Part one | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were thankful that your parents understood your situation and didn't force you out of your comfort zone like most parents do. But you deeply regret not grieving the life that could have been with them around you.

You might be wondering what started? The disappearance. People from all shapes and sizes started to disappear out of nowhere.

You were bored, but you didn't want to leave the comfort of your bed, and lucky you, your bed was adjacent to the window. You sat there for who knows how long just watching people get on with their lives while you’re all cooked up into a burrito feeling miserable. You realized that the world doesn’t stop for one person.

It doesn’t care if you catch up or not, but you better do because that’s what our society expects us to do. To get better after only a small period of time had passed from the traumatic event. They don't care how big or small the event is; they just don't care. They care about you being up to their unbelievable standards. And if you move on too fast? Then you never loved them, or it wasn’t that big of a deal. There is just no pleasing them.

He broke your heart into pieces. He cheated on you and led you on. You shouldn’t care. But then again, he's always been there in your life ever since you got adopted and moved here. You have every right to feel that way after learning that he is presumed dead.

You didn’t know what to do, you were lost, while feeling suffocated. What do I do?? SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME! You screamed in your head, hoping that someone could just come and help you, guide you through this gut-wrenching situation. You let out a painful scream, one that was filled with grief and pain, one that was filled with rage and sadness, one that was hurtful to hear from such a young soul that has now been broken into pieces.

You returned to your apartment and sat in front of the news channel, trying to find an answer or solution to your problems. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay rent? How are you going to eat? But the main question was, "How am I going to survive this emotional agony? "

Taglist

@lovelysofiii , @sunflowerleii , @whatareyouhidingpeter , @musicalkeys-blog , @asuperspecialseahorse , @madame-ree , @spiider-girl , @past3lw1ngs , @sensaxtional , @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts , @thors-angels , @sucker-09 , @stefans-wife , @averyfosterthoughts , @ilovemarvel124 , @wolkiwolki , @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog

[waiting-for-cas-to-save-me]

Team free will x abused reader

Tw mentions of abuse

Yes i lived threw some ahit like this hence my therapy here fuxk off

You had been raised in this hellish life but it was all you know.you had the curse of being the youngest in a long line of Hunters so your parents wanted more from you,to be the poster child.You aren't like your parents who saw different angles and didn't believe everything you hunted had to be killed to put it lightly you wear the Sam Winchester of your family Your parents knew John so you kind of saw the boys once in a while and You grow close. You kept in touch with Sam and Dean as you got older and then at some point you just stopped talking to them I didn't like it but it happened let you leave that family home Because a family that slays together stays together way too many hunting families motto is that and that was yours You're a grown woman And yet you couldn't leaveThey had always been mentally and physically abusive the physical died down after Dean had threatened to slit their throats .it then became mental emotional financial everything they took your car keys and mind you you had paid for that card on your own you'd even spend the time with Bobby singer to fix it The title was in your name the whole nine yards But it was gone . Your father forced you to quit almost any job you had to try to make money and function Most times you didn't have a phone But one night everything changed a little Sam and Dean called you Said they had somebody that wanted you to meet in the case they needed to grow up with so you took him up on their offer and that's when you met the angel of Thursday CastielHe read you like a book He knew you were an okay he could see you the mental scarring All of it and over and gave you a hug which was weird Didn't say anything Just a hug a perplexed to the Winchester boys and yourself You got into the Impala He's out there looking at the floor Not wanting to acknowledge the song playing or the company you were in.you sat on edge in the motel room with the boys and hardly ateSam knew not to pry but he couldnt see on of the other hunter kids in paindeep down he knew he had to try to fix it.Getting you to open up was another story.so he left it alone for now.

After teh hunt you didnt want to go back home but deep down you knew if you didnt they'd come hunting you.you could beg Dean to hide you and he would in heartbeat you were like family to him.On the othe hand if you told him your family would end up dead and you didnt like that tought so you just let them take you home.Dean waited to leave the lot till he saw your head poke out of your window.  This was normal for you guys and he'd drive by every few days around the same time to check on you.

Casteel was to watch over you closely and he did most nights he'd listen in from the heavens till you'd rest your head for the night . Your sleep just got lighter and lighter.and you very rarely slept anymore . One Tuesday night you laid down trying to get some rest when you heard the wings fluter in you room .

On reflex you drew a knife from under the pillow . Cas just stood there hand out requesting you to stand down. The sunken checks the eye bags and the copious amounts of bruises you small frame  caused the angel to emit a white hot light.He turned to the door you grabbed is hand softly not wanting to see the after math of a smiting. "Cas please no . I earned the beating I swear I need to learn my place and just hunt like the rest of the family "the pain in your eyes and you tried to get him from going out that door. Knowing dawn good and well he could just Zapp out if the room.

Instead he reached in his coat pocket and grabbed his phone hit a contact and waiting for them to pick up..."Dean how fast can you get to (y/n's) place

We are breaking her out of this joint once and for all." He paused just for a moment then spoke once once more "yes Dean I know I am prepared for this if I have to do the extreme I will  just you Sam here asap  (y/n) pack a bag now please darling I am gripping you tight and rainy you from perdition "

Tag list

@french-vanilla-in-the-clouds @xoxo-bunbun-xo @gabrielslittleangel @smiling-girl I missed ppl sorry

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Yandere Bully Jasper Hale X bullied Male Reader

Warning: little violence, bullying, and a little smut. 

Requested from Peramess. 

Background: In this world vampires and humans live together in peace but vampires still mistreat humans because they are weaklings. Then this brings us to Jasper Hale he is the king of H/S/N. He bullies those that weak he likes to pick on one kid specifically... M/n. this goes on for a while until a new boy arrives at school. Jasper doesn’t like how you and him are close. Jasper had to ‘deal’ with Elijah.

M/N: Male name

L/N: Last name

H/S/N: High School Name.

Disclaimer: I have never seen twilight so my knowledge of it low. All I know is its about werewolves and vampires and a girl named Bella.

sorry if this is bad!

Word count: 2026

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

*beep, beep, beep*

You heard your annoying alarm clock going off. “Ugh!” you turned off your alarm clock and got up. You see hints of the sun’s rays penetrating through the closed curtains. ‘New day, and more torture.’ 

You were bullied by Jasper Hale, the “Vampire King” of H/S/N. You didn’t understand why he was doing it, you weren’t weak like others. You do go to the gym and workout, but you weren’t strong as Jasper. 

After just staring at the corner for 5 minutes, you finally got up and began your daily routine. You emptied your blabber, bushed your teeth until they were crystal white, and you put on your uniform. 

After a few minutes some finalizations, you made your way downstairs, where you see your mother cooking her famous pancakes. “Good morning sweetie!” Your mother acknowledges your presence entering the kitchen. 

‘Hey mom,” you said with a tired voice. “You okay sweetie? You don’t seem excited.” Your mother asked worriedly. “I’m just tired. I just wanna go back to sleep.” you said, ‘If only she knew.’ You thought to yourself. “Oh okay, anyways breakfast is ready! Dig in!” your mother placed down a plate full of pancakes, bacon, sausages, and eggs with toast and milk on the side. Your mouth was salivating. “Thanks, mom.” 

After a few minutes of eating, you said goodbye to your mother and began walking to school. As you were walking, you began to take in the sights before entering prison- school. 

You began to the building appear in the distance. When you entered, you were met with a kick to the leg. “Ahh.” you fell onto the concrete floor, you looked you see the same blond-haired guy that made your life a living hell, Jasper Hale. (is that blond hair?) 

“Well, well, well look at what we got here.” you heard him say clearly mocking you. “Well, you need to get your daily beating.” You were now scared, nobody was coming to aid you. Everyone was afraid of what might happen to them. You felt pain spread throughout your body as they kicked. 

The bell ring and the kicking stopped. “I’ll be back later to finish what we started.” Jasper whispered into your ear before leaving with his gang. You stayed there for minutes before attempting to get back up.

While you were getting up, you see a hand in front of you. You looked up and see an unfamiliar person. ‘Who is he?’ You questioned. You just stared at his hand before finally taking it. 

“You okay? You looked pretty beat up.” this stranger said. “Yeah, I’m okay this happens daily,” you replied not caring about how he would respond. “If you say so,” he responded. “So are you new here or something? Cause I have never seen you around,” You asked curiously. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am new. And I was wondering if you knew where this class is?” he asked handing you his schedule. You looked over and he had the same classes as you. “We both have the same classes. I can show around if you want,” you offered him. “Okay, let’s get going!”

“By the way, what’s your name?” You asked wanting to get to know him, ‘He could be my first friend!’ you thought excitedly. “Elijah. Elijah Wilson. Nice to meet you. what’s your name?” he now asked you the same question. “Oh, umm M/n. M/N L/N…” you replied nervously since this was your first time having a normal conversation. “Nice to meet you M/N! Now I feel like we should get going.” He replied in a friendly tone. ‘Maybe he isn’t that bad.’ “Yeah, let’s get going,” you replied with a smile on your face. 

“So you have trigonometry for the first period! Come on let me show you where it is.” You said walking in the direction of both you’re first-period class. “Ugh, trigonometry?! Why is math my first-period class!” Elijah said annoyed, while you laughed at him.  

Time skip (4 minutes)

After walking for 4 minutes you and Elijah both made it to class. Once you open the door everybody stared at you. “You’re late!” your teacher said aggravated that you interrupted her class. In the corner of your eye, you can Jasper be chuckling and smirking along with everybody else. That was when Elijah made himself noticed after walking in. Now everybody’s attention was on him. 

“Ahh, you must the new student right?” “Yes, I am. my name is Elijah Wilson,” Elijah replied timidly. “Alright, class Elijah will be joining our class and treat him with respect. Do you need someone to show you around?” Your teacher asked trying to get this over with. “No, M/N said he’ll show me around,” Elijah replied. “Okay, M/N you will show him around! Now… take your seats.” the teacher demanded. 

You went to your seat while Elijah followed you and took his seat next to you since no one wanted to. Everybody was looking at you both, some with a look of pity, and the others just a look of fear of what was going to happen. Jasper was fuming at this and everybody could feel his anger, he just glared at Elijah the whole time. 

Time skip (30 minutes later)

The bell rang signaling that class is over and its time to move to the next class. You packed your things and waited for Elijah at the door. While you were waiting you got for Elijah, you got punched in the back and kicked in the leg, then you felt someone pulling your hair. You looked and wouldn’t you know it, it was Jasper with a furious look on his face. He was about to continue until someone stepped in.

“Hey stop that!” Elijah yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. “Or what? What are going to do, you weak human.” Jasper said with venom, he let go of your hair and began to walk towards Elijah. Elijah walked forward as well. Jasper was about to punch Elijah but he quickly dodges and landed a punch on Jasper. Then the fight happened, you were just standing there shocked. 

They were both beaten up but Jasper seems to be more injured. ‘How is he doing this?! Jasper is a vampire! He’s human?!’ You thought to yourself as you were confused. Jasper was the first to put out. “Gasp.” everybody gasped. ‘Jasper never backed down!’ you too were shocked. 

After it was over you got up and went to aid Elijah. “Come on we need to get to the nurse’s office.” You helped a very bruised Elijah up and made your way to the office. While you were walking, Jasper was just staring at your back. ‘You’ll be mine M/n…’ 

Time skip (5 minutes)

You knocked on the door. No one answered. You decided to just enter anyways. “Looks like the nurse isn’t here. Go get on the bed and I’ll get the bandages.” you got the bandages and the alcohol from one of the cabinets. You both sat there in silence until Elijah asked something personal… 

“Why don’t you have many friends?” you stopped what you were doing and just looked at him. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” Elijah apologize. “No don’t worry, you didn’t offend me.” it went back to being quiet until you man up and told him what happen. “If you’re wondering why I don’t have many friends… (you paused for a moment) My friends went missing. I don’t know what happened to them,” you said while tears began to pour out of your eyes. You felt Elijah hug you whispering, “It’s alright.”

Jasper was looking in through the window of the door. Jealousy and anger raged through his veins. 

Time skip (2 months later)

You and Elijah have grown close. Jasper for some reason stopped bullying you, now all he does is stare at you, but you paid no attention to it.

It was the end of the school day and you said your goodbyes to Elijah and began your walk home. While you were walking you felt like someone was watching you. 

You heard footsteps behind and you decided to walk faster the figure behind also began to walk faster. Before you know it, you ran trying to get away from this unknown person. But in the end, this unknown figure caught you and pulled you into an alleyway. 

This hooded figure pulled out a cloth with chloroform on it and put it onto your nose. You tried your best not to inhale it but failed. You passed out. 

You woke up and see that you’re chained to the wall. You began to panic, you looked around trying to see you’re surrounding. In the corner of the room you… Elijah chained up to the wall as well. “Elijah!” you called out to him but he didn’t respond. You heard footsteps coming down into the basement. You looked at the entrance and you see…… Jasper. 

“Jasper?! You did this!” You yelled with anger. “Watch that mouth of your sweetheart.” when he said you were flabbergasted. ‘Sweetheart?!?!’ “Sweetheart?! One, why are you calling me that, and two, what did you do to Elijah?!” when I said Elijah’s name, his face changed immediately. ‘Bipolar much.’ 

“Elijah, Elijah! It always about him! Why?!” He said with resentment. “Why?! Because you bullied me every day! Elijah was the only one who actually stood up for me and stood up to you!”  you yelled back at him. After you said that he just looked at you before making a move. “You wanna see what I did to Elijah?! Here have a look!” With that said Jasper throws the dead body of Elijah. You screamed at the sight, his eyes were ripped out and his fingers were ripped off as well. Also, his blood was drained. 

Jasper just laughs at your expression. “Wanna know why his eyes and fingers are ripped off? Because he looked at you. His fingers? He touched you.” you were screaming at how calm he was. While you’re crying out your tears, Jasper began to step closer. 

He grabbed the chains raising you up. He grabbed your wrist pulling you closer and tilt your head to the other side. Jasper began to lick your neck trying your sweet spot, he put his hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound. “Mmm.” you whimpering until…

“Ahhhh!” you felt fangs penetrating your skin. “Mmm.” Jasper was sucking your blood. He then stopped and began to whisper in your ear. “You taste delicious. Better than that scumbag’s blood. You taste so sweet,” Jasper whispered in your ear while also licking it and biting. 

He went back to sucking your blood in the same location. You passed out from blood loss but before you did, you heard him say something. “You’ll make the best bride.”

Time skip (5 months. 5 months since you went missing.)

“You may now kiss the bride.” Jasper immediately grabbed you and kissed you. “We are now married. Now you’ll be mine forever. Nobody will come to save you. Dead is the only thing that will divide us…”

How did this happen? It started off as Jasper bullying you, now it ends with your Bully marrying you. 

You’re his and he’ll never let you go. 

[ushiwakaout]

You can’t tell me Ushijimas love affirmation is touch but he hates being touched at random.

THIS BIG GOOF OF A MAN need touch but hates asking for it and hates it as a surprise....

When you had first touched him, it might have been in middle school. You tapped in his shoulder and he jolted just a little, “Sorry, do you have a pencil i can borrow?” He raised a brow at you, “You came to school without a pencil?” You shook your head, “I write with pen but it’s math and i always mess up.... So do you have a pencil?” That was the first of many of your shoulder taps, it went for six months until Ushijima arrived by just setting a pencil on your desk before you walked in.

At the last year you had become really close friends and shared love for volleyball (although you only watched him play). It was around the time he was supposed to get out of practice that you heard a small commotion of boys outside the gym gathering around. No more than three boys who where in your class, surrounding Ushijima, calling him a left handed freak. You thought it was strange, “Hey! Leave him alone five-head!” You chucked your backpack at the boy who verbally attacked your best friend. “Just because he uses his left hand doesn’t mean hes a freak. You’re the freak because i caught you eating your buggers during lunch you fucktard!” The two boys beside the bully began to giggle like school girls, before he stomped away.

You heard a faint laugh coming from ushijima, which was very rare. “What’s a fucktard?” He asked curiously, which made you burst into a fit of laughter. You’ve never heard him swear before either. “I don’t know, it’s just the first thing that popped in my head... Let’s go home, i’m hungry.” That was the first time you held hands with Ushijima. 5:30 pm on a spring afternoon

In highschool you got more touchy. Platonically holding his hand or jumping on his back with the intention of surprising him but Tendo always gave it away with his eyes.

The ushijima fan club hated you. Tried keeping you away from him until their leader faced you one day during lunch. “Can’t you see that he clearly doesn’t want you? Why are you always trying so hard? He hates physical touch and yet here you are smothering your hands all over him! Don’t you get it, he’s never gonna date you and he doesn’t love you.” It was a little surprising to hear those words. “I don’t want to date Ushijima.” You told the girl, she gave you a rude confused look. “He isn’t looking for a relationship, he’s so focused of being the best volleyball player he can be... So why would i want to ruin that for him. If you didn’t know that, than you shouldn’t even be the fan club leader. Wakatoshi-kun is my best friend... i know he loves me. He would have told me otherwise... He’s too blunt to have kept me around for so long. Now if you’ll excuse me, I id like to eat my lunch, with my friends.” Little did you know that a few doors down, hiding away from you, Ushijima and Tendo where on their way to find you.

It was Autum at 1:10 pm when Ushijima had slowly come to realize that maybe what he felt for you was more than a friendship.

The day he lost to Karasuno, something had just been off about him. He sat alone with his thoughts. Tendo was no where around and his dorm was empty. A knock came to his done and he sighed, Tendo must have forgotten his keys again. To his surprise red hair didn’t face his eyesight but the white wall of the hall, until he looked down and you peered up at him. “Tendo sent me.” Of course he did. You blushed him aside and made him sit back down on his bed before shoving a goodie bag into his hands. “Eat.” You told him. He thought he was a man of few words. “Have you eaten?” He asked you, opening up the goodie bag. You nodded and sat beside him. He took out the black bowl container and looked inside, “This is-”

“Hayashi rice... I made it from scratch. You mentioned it a few years back while having dinner with my family. I hope it’s still you favorite.”

He rose a brow, a few years back. The last time he ate with your parents was 10 years ago. How did you remember such a small detail? “It is...Thank you.” You smiled at him. “Of course Toshi.” You watched his eyes twinkle when he took the first bite, since the game you knew he was a little off. Your hand rested on his shoulder and replaced it with your head. “Are you okay?” You asked him. He cleared his throat, “I’m alright... What about you?” His question was hesitant, as if he wasn’t about to ask but asked anyways. “I’m alright if you’re alright. But you do know I know you better than you know yourself right?” You tilded your head an examinares his face, “Unclench your jaw-” You had skimmed under his chin, cupping his perfect bone structure, “-and relax... You don’t need to be so tense. You’re not in front of the team right now, you’re in front of me.” Ushijima didn’t understand what you meant, did you believe you weren’t apart of his team? Of course you are. You’re the sole purpose this team has been kept together so perfectly , Shiratowizawas perfect, smart, incredible manager.

“Earth to Toshi? Where’s you’re head at big guy?” You gave him a small smile. He could clearly tell you where worried. “I’m alright y/n, you don’t need to worry about me.” You scoffed, “Bull. I’m always going to worry about you, even if we get old and wrinkly.” Ushijima let out a dry chuckle. “You think we’ll still be in touch by then?” He asked. He could feel your hand tense under his chin as you gave him a smile but this time, the look in your eyes was sad. “I hope so. You’re my best friend, i wouldn’t want it any other way Tosh.” He smiled back at you, “I wouldn’t want it any other way either.”

“Good, now tell me what’s on your mind.”

That night, when Ushijima spilled his emotions to you- You could feel your heart race just a little faster than it usually would and when he walked you back to your dorm and patted your head the way he usually would, you couldn’t look him in the eyes because i’d give away how utterly and endlessly in love you where with your best friend.

When graduation came along, tendo had snapped a picture of you and Wakatoshi together, the way he looked down at you as you looked at the camera with desploma in hand, excited to move in with your life. His hand was on the small of your back, something he got used to doing through the years, while your small hand tried reaching to his hip.

The small touch meant a lot to him. You where the first person in his life to accept his bluntness, to accept him for who he really was and we will forever be greatful for you.

When catching up with the former shiratowizawa team, much to their surprise you and ushijima where still not together, romantically that is, but the two of you lived in the same apartment, together... alone.... with no one to bother you. Semi nudge your waist, “So no progress been made?” He asked in a teasing manner. You wacked him with your table napkin. “Keep it down, no one needs to know.” Semi chuckled, “Trust me Y/n everyone knows but Ushijima.” You looked around at the team, they all nodded and agreed, luckly Tendo had taken Ushijima out for a private talk outside. You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Really? Is it that obvious?” They all nodded as Semi laughed at your dipair.

Once Ushijima and Tendo came back from catching up, the new wing spiker for Adlers could tell that you didn’t make eye contact with him through the whole night and the walk home was probably more awkward than ever before. “Goodnight...” You muttered, removing your shoes at the front door and rushing to your room, leaving Ushijima without a word. He raised a brow and slowly made his way to your room but a small sniffle stopped him from turning the door handle. How long had it been since you’ve been since he’s seen you cry. To be exact it was probably when you where kids... but that memory was fresh in his mind because he never liked the sight of seeing you cry. It made him feel... useless.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, contemplating if he should open the door and hold you, or give you some space. Ushijima shoved his hand back into his pocket, he wouldn’t intrude into your privacy like that. But through the night, Ushijima tossed and turned. Why have you been crying? Why didn’t you come in and ask him to give you a hug the way you did back in highschool. He turned one more time before rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the edge, maybe a drink of water could help. He looked at his phone.

2:00 am

He sighed and placed it face down again on his desk before swinging his door open.

The harsh swing of the door scared you as your hand was ready to knock on the wood. He looked down at you and noticed the red discoloration that hid under your eyes while some moonlight shined on you through the window that sat on the end of the hall. Your eyes where wide and shock but your body turned around, and back into your room. Ushijima has never seen you move so quick before. “Y/n.” He called, putting his foot in between the door and the door frame. Even if you moved your fastest, ushijima was always two steps behind ready to catch up. You sighed and looked down at your feet before letting go of the door. “Sorry... you scared me.”

He scared you? That was new.

He looked down at your fingers, which twisted and twirled between each other. “Why are you awake?” You asked him. “I couldn’t sleep.” He answered truthfully. “Oh... yeah- um, me either.”

“Why where you crying?” Ushijima was as blunt as ever, which made you nerveous. “I wasn’t crying, w-who told you I was crying?” You where terrible at lying.

Ushijimas hand cupped your cheek as his thumb carressed so closely to your lower lashes. “You’re eyes are swollen, you’re more is pink... You’re voice is a little groggy... You may know me better than I know myself but i have a few tricks up my sleeve as well.”

“I’m fine Wakatoshi-” To mentally scolded yourself, calling him by his full name was such a dead giveaway. “You only call me Wakatoshi or Ushijima when i’ve done something wrong.... Have i done something wrong?”

You sighed... Maybe tonight would be the night. “No. You haven’t done anything- that, that’s actually the problem.” Ushijima rose a brow. “I don’t quite understand...” Hs stated, of course he didn’t. As much as he was blunt, you had to be blunt back or it would get through that giant head of his. “Toshi- can we do this tomorrow- please.”

“No.”

“I-”

“I’d like to know what you mean, y/n.”

You’re full name... How it sounded so good coming out of his lips instead of others. You sighed and looked down at your feed before fiddling with your fingers.

“idontknowwhenitstartedbutithinkitstartedinhighschoolbutitdoesntreallymatterbecause.... iminlovewithyou.”

Ushijima grabbed cupped your chin and lifted your head, “Look me in the eyes-” you where quick to follow his command, “-and say to me again.” You couldn’t tell of it was the tears brimming in your eyes or a blush slowly crept on Ushijimas cheeks. “Tell me you love me again.” Both hands cupped your face as you have him a light laugh, causing tears to roll down your face. “I’m in love with you...” Ushijima gave you a soft smile when you kissed the palm of his hand. “I am so, endlessly, hopelessly, in love with you.” You repeated looking him in the eyes. “And i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

This is something Ushijima thought he’d never get to experience. Being a hopeless romantic, and for his best friend none the less. You raised yourself on the tips of your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling him down for a kiss that had been long awaited.

The next morning, when the sun shined through the curtains of your room- you could feel the soft cool breeze that came through the open window you forgot to close. You clenched your hand lightly against soft skin that you could already recognize. Ushijima laid beside you in deep sleep, a white sheet barely covering what kept you so wide awake last night. You snuggled back onto his bare chest and took in his scent, something you had come to not be able to live without.

The way his hands roamed around your body last night was a large progress from the first day you met.

You poked his shoulder, which seemed to be enough to wake him. “Mmm, good morning.” His voice was much deeper than usual, it brought shivers down your spine. “Good morning...” He wrapped his hand around you again and caressed your naked skin as his nose was deep in your hair. “How’d you sleep?” He asked you, his fingers teasing around your waist. “I uh- I slept very well.”

“Tired?” He asked, plating a kiss on the crown of your head before you nodded. “A little...”

“Sore?” You slapped his arm lightly, causing him to let out a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes...”

“Stop it!” You whined, now hiding under your covers. “You didn’t seem to mind last night sweetheart... I would have slowed down if you did.” You’re blush grew deeper. “You’re so embarrassing.” You whine again, as ushijima pulls the sheet away from your face to pinch your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. He gave you a smile, “Would you want it to me some other way?” You eyes twinkled a little, before muttering, “No... I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: IM SO FUCKINGNIN LOVE WITH HIMS FUCK FUCK FUCK

[yutahoes]

Devil Inside

pairing : childhood friends! Yuta x Y/N

genre : fluff, horror au, smut but not detailed

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: fuckboy Yuta, calling someone a 'goth girl', horror movies, Yuta becomes an incubus, too much blood, raw meat eating, flesh eating, human organ eating, slut shaming a minor character, calling Yuta a whore, killing, mention of male molestation, mentioned teacher-student intercourse, shirtless Yuta, mentions of breeding, mentioned kitchen sex, mentioned shower sex, mentioned rough sex, Y/N getting wounded, skipping classes, Yuta as a murderer, a cambion. In other words, this is disturbing and problematic.

a/n: Inspired by this set of pictures and the movie Jennifer's Body. This is my first time writing a horror themed AU and this is badly written. I just can't stop thinking about this so for me to do something productive today, I had to post this. 😂 This has uncomfortable theme so please read in moderation. I went crazy over this, sorry. Feedback is highly appreciated. 😘

You and Yuta had been friends since forever, stemming from the history of your parents being friends and all since college. Your home is his home and you have your own room in his house. Staying together inside one room isn't a problem, your parents trusted you both but growing up is different. 

You had to admit that you grew up leading a boring life, too bookish, and didn't even interact with your classmates. Yuta, on the other hand, has always been the life of the party, the school superstar, the popular guy. And that huge difference created a wall between your friendship. 

You didn't know when it started, it just did. He started hanging out with the cool kids while you were left in the shadows. You can't really get mad at him, that's growing up. And he didn't change when it was just the two of you. 

When your parents would go abroad for their business trips, Yuta would check on you every night. If you have eaten dinner, if you've locked all the windows, or if you knew the number for the police station or the fire station in case something happens. He's still the same Yuta. Your childhood friend, Yuta. 

"Did you do your assignments?" He asked, not removing his eyes from the TV where he's watching a horror film. This is something that he can't do at their home or his mom would freak out. 

You rolled your eyes, answering a 'Yes, abeoji' while opening the fridge to see what to have for breakfast tomorrow then whining since there's more raw food in there than easy-to-eat foods. "I'll probably skip breakfast tomorrow." You said more to yourself, already thinking to wake up early and just get some waffles from the shop near the bus stop.

"Just leave the back door unlocked, I'll cook breakfast for you tomorrow." Yuta claimed that made you look at him. 

You raised your eyebrow at that. "Weird that you're here." You started then sat next to him on the couch, "No date?" He showed a screenshot of her photo, a different girl than yesterday. She was wearing black, with black eyeliner, and a pierced eyebrow. "She looks like a goth. Is that your type now?" 

"She's hot!" He exclaimed and you just nodded at him. "And she wants to meet at 11 pm so yeah." That was a weird time to meet up. But you didn't react and just focused on the TV just as the jump scare happened. You quickly hid your face on the throw pillow, blowing heavy breaths that made the guy next to you laugh. You hated horror, hated blood, and you're convinced that Yuta is doing this to scare you. "I'll get going." He said, standing up. 

"Can you close the TV first? Or stop the movie, at least?" You said, face still behind the pillow. He laughed then closed the TV, engulfing you in darkness that made you more scared. The bloody face from the TV earlier flashing on your mind. 

"Sorry Y/N. I promised not to scare you like that again." You heard him say then felt something warm on the top of your head followed by a smooching sound. He patted your head, "I really have to go. I'll see you in the morning." 

You waited for the sound of the door closing before you removed the throw pillow from your burning face. He kissed your head, right? You felt that. Why would he do that? Does he know that you have a crush on him? Or is it just his manwhore ways? But why you? You screamed at the throw pillow, cursing at Yuta for being the charming guy he is. 

You cannot deny the fact that each day, your feelings for Yuta had to grow. Who are you to blame when he's getting more handsome each day? And you're just a girl who has a weak heart for him. The image was still vivid in your mind, the first time you watched a horror movie and you were already crying in fright ten minutes into the movie. "I will protect you, Y/N." And you believed that. Yuta is always there to protect you. 

A loud bang can be heard that made you wake up in your sleep. You listened for other noises and heard footsteps, someone is inside your home. The first instinct is to call Yuta but what if he's in another place, you cannot trouble him. So you just took the baseball bat he lent you for this circumstance, repeating in your mind the number of the police station. 

You quietly tiptoed down the stairs and saw the light of the refrigerator open. Is it a food thief? And how did he come inside your house? You can see a trail of blood on the kitchen floor that startled you. The bat was dropped on the floor when you saw someone seated in front of the refrigerator. "Yuta?" 

He was covered in blood, eating the raw beef as if starving. His eyes were blood cold and you stepped back in fright. He looks like a monster. What kind of a crazy dream is this? You have to do something to wake up. Anything to wake yourself up. 

And as stupid as you sound, you hit your head with the bat that was on the ground. 

You opened your eyes, the sunlight hitting your eyes and your head aching real bad as if something hit you. You groaned while stretching then remembered your dream. Yuta. Your kitchen. Quickly, you ran to the kitchen to see Yuta’s mom cooking something. “I’m glad you’re up. You’ll be late for class.” 

“Auntie, where is Yuta?” She shrugged, saying that he didn’t even go home last night. It was a normal occurrence, that’s part of Yuta’s social life. “I’ll just prepare for school.” When you glanced at the couch, Yuta’s baseball bat was there. Weird, isn’t it supposed to be in your room? 

You had a nice breakfast, thanks to Yuta’s mom, and enough time to go to school. The first thing was to get your books in your locker and walk to class, avoiding some of your schoolmates who block the way. Before you can get inside the room, you see Yuta passing by opposite your way with a new girl in his arms. You knew her, the cheerleader, the basketball team’s girlfriend. Wow, she reached the soccer team now. When your eyes met with Yuta, you were reminded of him seated on your kitchen floor. Filled with blood and with dead cold eyes. You shake your head. That was a dream. You shivered. A very vivid dream. 

It was a normal boring school day, a typical day that it surprised you when Yuta wrapped his arms around you then leaned closer. “I need your help.” A curious look was etched on your face. “Math. Help me study for the exam tomorrow.” You nodded, removing his hand from your shoulder. “Why?” He asked before putting back his hand on you. 

“I just don’t want your girlfriends to misunderstand.” Yuta chuckled then pinched your cheek. “Yuta, stop it. It hurts.” 

He smiled. That breathtaking smile which makes you weak for him. “Sorry.” He whispered then leaned to place a kiss on your reddening cheek, startling you. Your eyes widened at his actions. What is wrong with Yuta? “You do know that I like you more than I like those girls, right?” What? Your heart kept on beating wildly against your chest that you’re scared he might hear it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” 

Once you breathe in, without realizing that you’re holding your breath, you saw everyone’s eyes were on you. Oh no! This is trouble. 

You went home early, trying to stay away from your schoolmates. You don’t want to talk to them and explain that you’re friends with Yuta, that will cause some damage to him. But why did he do that? You tried raking your brains for an answer but you can’t seem to find the right one. So you just shrugged it and maybe ask Yuta when he gets to your house. 

It’s late at night. You finished reviewing the whole chapter for your exam tomorrow yet Yuta is a no show. You lightly glanced at the house next door, seeing that the living room lights were on. Their car isn’t in the garage, meaning his parents are not at home. Then you saw the silhouette of someone making out on the couch. Oh, his ditching makes sense now. You closed the door and made sure to close the light, ready to get a good night’s sleep. 

You opened your eyes in darkness, the clock reading that it’s almost 4 am. You felt thirsty that you decided to go downstairs to get a cup of water, halfway through the stairs you can see someone on the other door’s yard digging up something. Curious, you put on a coat and exited the backdoor to check on it. The same Yuta, covered in blood, and this time you knew you weren’t dreaming. 

“Yuta?” You called but he kept digging. Blood mixed with the soil and the most horrible thing you can see, limbs. “Yuta.” You called once again, even holding his shoulder to make him look at you. He kept covering the body with the soil, even covering it up with a large pot. What has he done? This isn’t the Yuta you know and it scared you. 

“Y/N.” He called that made you look at him. The warmth of his voice is still there. “Help me, please.” He sounded broken. “I’m really scared.” The first time you saw this reaction on Yuta. He looks so fragile, so vulnerable. 

There’s a part of you that’s still wary of him. You have questions in your head that you wanted to ask him and you waited for him to finish his shower, while you make coffee for both of you, as you collect your thoughts. When he sat in front of you at the kitchen table, he looked like the Yuta you knew except there’s pain in his eyes. “Yuta.” You called, rubbing the side of your cup. “What…?” But you don’t know what to ask him. 

“I killed Miss Jang.” Your eyes widened in surprise. The assistant PE teacher? “We had amazing sex and then…” You shook your head. He had sex with a teacher? Wow, his man whoring is of another level. “You don’t understand, she’s been touching me appropriately for the past couple of months so I just gave her what she wanted.” 

A gasp escaped your throat. “She’s what?” He just stared at you. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Do you think someone would believe me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head. “Because it’s embarrassing.” You scoffed then rolled your eyes at him. “So you killed her?” 

“I ate her.” 

“Yuta, I don’t need the details of your sexcapades…”

“I ate her organs.” Your eyes widened in surprise. What? “It’s a craving after having sex with someone. I just want to eat something raw and her flesh can’t even satisfy me.” That explains why he’s covered with blood. 

The memory of that night came to you, when he was eating that raw meat from the fridge. “When did it start?” He answered last night and you were more surprised that it is true and not a dream. “How?” He shrugged. “What do you plan to do now?” 

“I don’t know.” He held your hand that was on the table, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Help me, please. I don’t want to kill another woman again.” You sighed. This was Yuta. Your childhood friend. The guy you like. You nodded before thinking how stupid it is to do this. 

The news of Miss Jang being missing is the talk in your class the next day but what’s more surprising is some testimony of the guys who were molested by her, like Yuta. You watched as your friend fiddled with his thumbs, obviously listening to your classmates. He actually did them a favor but something isn’t right. Why is this happening to Yuta? 

A sexual thirst, a thirst for flesh. Your phone showed a result called an incubus, a demon that pursues sexual relations with women. But why does Yuta keep on eating flesh to satisfy his craving? You stood up and decided to ditch class just to have the answers to your questions, finding yourself in the back of the library. The collection of forbidden books.  

“What are you doing here?” You immediately hushed Yuta as you got hold of a black book, opening it to reveal different pentagrams and illustrations of spooky creatures. “What is that?” 

“An incubus.” You said then sat on the library floor, Yuta following you. “Demons who attract women for sexual pleasure.” Before he could say anything else, “I think that was what is happening to you.” 

You visibly saw him gulp. “You think I’m a demon?” No, you don’t. 

“Possessed by a demon, Yuta.” You flipped the pages of the book to see about the different rituals on how to summon a demon. “Did you join a cult? Or even got drugged and was offered as a human sacrifice?” You stopped. That night. That girl. “The goth girl, you saw her that night. Do you remember what happened?” 

“We had sex.” You rolled your eyes at that, of course. “I told her I’m a virgin because she likes guys like that. We had amazing sex, mind-blowing sex.” You sighed. “Then I woke up on your kitchen floor.” That’s all he remembers? Finally, your thoughts are confirmed, it isn’t a dream. You really saw Yuta that night. “You were lying on the ground as well and I had to remove my shirt before carrying you to your room.” 

The thought of the shirtless Yuta carrying you made the blood rose up your cheeks. “You were covered in blood that time and the trail…”

“I had to clean that up before you wake up because you’re scared of blood.” You stared at him warmly. He had to think about that? “You saw me?” You nodded, sharing that he was eating that raw meat when you saw him. “Did I scare you?” If there was one person you cannot lie to, that would be Yuta. He can easily see through you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I won’t hurt you, I promise that.”

You held his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ll help you, Yuta. We can remove that demon inside you.”

The only conclusion you can come up with is to meet with the same goth girl he met before. Yuta remembered having sex with her and he was eating that raw meat as if really hungry so she might be alive, Yuta didn’t kill her. And you have to hurry because each night that passes, Yuta has someone to bury in the backyard. It's a female prostitute one night, then a drug pusher, followed by the girl in class who bullied you. 

It's becoming a huge issue in town, the disappearance of young girls, that your parents had to come home quickly worried about your safety. "From now on, go home early." Your dad ordered. "I'll ask Yuta to walk you home every day." How would they feel if Yuta was the one doing all these? 

He was worried about you joining him in meeting up with the girl, even repeating to you that he'll kill himself if something bad happens to you but you assured him that you'll be fine. It's not you who needed help now, it was him. You need to put a stop to this before another one gets hurt. 

The girl was laughing cynically when you asked her what to do to remove the demon inside your friend. "A cambion." She answered and you curiously gave her a look. "That's the goal of an incubus. Once there's a cambion, he will leave the body he's possessing." 

A cambion? All you need is to have a cambion so the demon can leave Yuta. You searched what it was and just facepalmed yourself. Fuck this! Will he be saved? 

----

"You want me to breed someone?" You shiver at his choice of words but nod, nonetheless. "How can I do that when eating them becomes part of the sexual process?" 

You shook your head then ruffled your hair. This is getting you crazy. "You know, this is your fault for whoring around. If you just had a fixed girlfriend then this wouldn't happen…" 

"Then why did you reject my confession?" You blinked twice as if it can clear what you heard. Did you hear him correctly? "I told you I'll marry you in senior year and what is your answer? I'm not marrying you, Yuta." He said while copying your voice, leaving you dumbfounded. "I was heartbroken that time so I started dating other girls then maybe you can finally notice me." 

"I thought you were teasing me that time." Your voice got louder that your mom knocked on the door asking if you two were fighting. He shook his head, smiling at your mom. When she closed the door, you just stared at him awkwardly. Once again, you had to ruffle your hair. This is so frustrating! "Just, make a baby with someone." 

You waited, biting your thumb as the clock struck 3 am. You haven't had the right sleep thinking of what might happen to Yuta then you saw movement in the yard. Quietly, you went out of the backdoor of your house and saw him outside, blood on his clothes. "What happened?" 

He shook his head. "Same." 

"Where is her body?" You removed your cardigan to wipe away the blood from his face and his neck. 

He looks tired, hopeless. "I left her body on a roadside." You gasped at that. "I can't save myself. I'll be like this forever." He can't, he needed to fight himself. Fight his urges. But even you knew that it was impossible. 

There was a flicker of light coming from their kitchen, someone was going to see you. They're going to see Yuta with a bloody shirt like this. "Remove your shirt." You ordered and he looked confused so you just ripped it from him. Shit, you just realized how this looked like when two booming voices can be heard calling both your names. Both your dads. 

"Where is your shirt?" Your dad asked, arms crossed. You're inside your house, both your fathers and mothers staring at the two of you. "And you're wearing only that outside?" You glanced at the thin nightgown you were wearing and Yuta handed you a throw pillow. "Please wear your shirt, Yuta." 

"I ripped his shirt, dad." You heard both your moms giggle. "Can we please not make a big deal of this? This isn't what you think it is." 

Yuta's dad sighed. "Our only concern is why bother doing it outside? We let you sleep in each other's room." What? 

"Are you exhibitionists?" Your mom asked and you gasped. Is that what they're thinking now? Your head aches, you didn't have any decent sleep yet and this ordeal with Yuta is making you lose your mind. Can't you just all talk tomorrow, not at 4 in the morning? 

Yuta held your hand, lacing your fingers together. "I'm willing to take responsibility if something happens to Y/N." Surprised, you glanced at him. Nothing happened, he knew that. What the hell is he saying so suddenly? "But can I please stay with Y/N tonight, uncle?" 

It was a surprise when your dad allowed you both to go upstairs to your room but you had to wait until they're in their rooms before getting your cardigan and Yuta's blood-stained clothes from the yard. Yuta was still seated on your bed when you went back to your room, staring at you with his misty eyes. 

He pulled you close, arms wrapped around your waist while his head was on your chest. "I'm scared." His hold got tighter. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore." If you're frustrated with this, you realized Yuta might be in bigger pain than you are. You held his hair, threading your fingers along its strand. You've been together for so long but this has been the most intimate thing that you two had ever done. "You were right, this is my fault for hurting those girls. I used them for my self pleasure, to boost my ego. This is me getting punished for all of that." 

You held his hands, kneeling in front of him to see his face. "But you don't deserve this, Yuta." You held his cheeks as tears started falling from his eyes. "We'll do something, I promise." 

He pulled you up, letting you sit on his lap. The warmth of his eyes makes your heart beat rapidly inside your chest. "I love you, Y/N." Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, "I'm sorry for getting you dragged into this but I'm thankful you haven't left me yet." He hugged you, head on your shoulder and you can feel his warm breath on your neck. "I love you. I don't want you to leave me." 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He's scared, you can feel him shaking. "I won't leave you, Yuta." You let him sob in your chest like a little child just wanting some warmth. And you realized, this might be just what he needed. 

Both of you skipped school that morning since you slept at 5 am, just laying next to each other. Your head on his chest, hands held together. It was him who first got out of bed, prepared himself, then placed a small kiss on our head before leaving your room. If only you could stay like this. But he had to go and fuck another woman tonight to satisfy his thirst, making your heart ache. Can you live like this? 

Your parents and Yuta were seated around the dining table when you went down for breakfast. "We were just telling Yuta that we have a business trip in Brazil." You nodded, used to it by now. "And because of the news around, it would be better that he stay here with you." Your mom suggested that it made you surprised. After last night, they're letting you live in one roof with a guy, unsupervised? 

"Mom. I can stay at home alone." 

"I know. But just to be safe." You're not even safe with their suggestion. "I know what you're thinking honey. You're a female and a male with raging hormones, it's alright with us." Yuta choked on the food and you hissed at your parents. 

Your dad coughed lightly. "We stacked some condoms just in case." 

"Dad!" 

"Honey, we agreed to let them have their freedom." You glared at your mom. "We really wanted a grandchild." It's your turn to choke at your food. Then it made you stop. If he breeds a human, the incubus will go away. This might just be your answer. 

---

"No, Y/N!" Yuta stated firmly after explaining what your plan is. "What if I hurt you?" 

You shook your head. You're not scared of that now but you're frightened for Yuta and the things that might happen to him if this continues on. The police started investigating the missing dead girls, it's only a matter of time before they can chase down Yuta. You held his cheeks, distress can be seen in his expression. "I trust you, Yuta." 

It was a crazy plan. When your parents left that afternoon, you stacked up some raw meat that the butcher thought you were throwing a party. Yuta didn't kill the first girl, the goth girl, and you're holding to that belief that Yuta can have some control over himself. When the night struck, you locked all doors to your house that would forbid Yuta from going out. 

"I'm giving you the last chance to back out from this, Y/N." You shook your head. "I'm sorry." He whispered, carrying you to the countertop of the kitchen. "If something bad happens, I'll kill myself. I swear." 

You giggled then wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then we'll be like Romeo and Juliet." He laughed at your reference before moving closer to plant his lips on yours. Your first kiss with Yuta. His lips were so soft and he tasted so sweet that made your brain hazy. 

When he slipped his tongue inside you and his fingers dug on your waist, you knew there's no way you can get out of this. You can feel his warmth in every touch, in every part of your skin his lips touched. He slowly undressed you, making sure that he's still Yuta and whispering promises that he wouldn't hurt you. He didn't at first and you refused to believe that you made love with him at your kitchen counter. 

The grandfather clock signaled that it is midnight. Yuta just pulled you down from the kitchen counter, turning you around, and thrust into you that made you scream. No foreplay, no kissing. You turned to see his eyes, those dead eyes. His hand held your neck, the other digging in your waist. You prevent making a sound, not wanting to alert his parents next door. His teeth dig in your shoulder, an excruciating pain that makes you bite your lip to prevent a sound. This is how he kills them. 

You tried to reach for the raw meat nearby, desperately trying to move out of his hold. You pushed yourself away from the counter, causing him to fall to the ground. You watched as he took the meat and ate it as if starved, like the first night you saw him in this state. Every night, he's like this. An appetite for sex, an appetite for flesh. 

And it breaks your heart that you can't do anything to help him. 

He ate five portions of the raw meat and you mentally told yourself to get some tomorrow for what might happen at night. You covered him with a blanket as he lay down your kitchen floor, kissing his forehead. You wanted this to stop, wanted him to be normal again. You clean the wound on your shoulder as well as the scratch on your side, hissing in pain as you put medicine on the bleeding part. 

You woke up with his warm arms wrapped around you, a kiss on your wounded shoulder woke you up. "Did I do this? I really did hurt you." He grazed his finger on the spot that hurt as you shook your head. He nuzzled his nose on your shoulder and you felt his warmth. "I don't know what to do anymore." 

"But Yuta this is better. We know that you still have control over yourself." You sat on the bed and he traced the scratch on your side. "When the clock struck twelve, that's when you started having that hunger. We're slowly knowing things about you now. We can do this together, Yuta." 

He nodded, watching you stand up then head to the bathroom. You were supposed to close the door when you felt him enter the same room. The warm feeling is back when his hands touch your body, in contrast to the cold water cascading down your body. You skipped class again because of the pain in your shoulder and he went to school. 

If this continues, it's better to listen to both your parents and just get married. Live together in a far city where you can start a new life, maybe you can give birth to Yuta's child and it will end his suffering. As you put new meat inside the fridge, you heard a knock on the door. Yuta came in with a distressed look on his face. "The police are at school. They were starting to suspect a student at school." 

"Did you do anything?" He shook his head, hands clasped together. "Just lay low for a while." 

"What if they found out that it was me?" You shook your head, that's the worst-case scenario. And you promise not to let that happen. 

He stayed at your house, particularly your room that night. When the clock struck twelve, you were pushed on your bed with Yuta pounding on you real rough. The moment you felt his lips on your neck, you rolled to the bed and reached for the raw meat on the bedside table. You breathed hard, you can do this. 

The police were doing their best, you had to give them that. And it scares you that they'll narrow it down to you and Yuta doing these things. The disappearance of the women stopped but the deaths were a mystery that the police remained to look for clues. It's been a couple of nights since you've done this with Yuta and every day, a new wound would appear on your body. 

Your parents came back from their business trip when they noticed the amount of raw meat in your fridge and the wounds in your body. You tried to shrug it off, saying that it's just your clumsiness. Yet, they never bought it. You cannot ask Yuta to stay over so you keep your phone in your ear, watching his room for movements. The moment the clock struck midnight, nothing happened to your surprise. He kept saying that he's fine, that he doesn't need anything, that he's still Yuta. Maybe an off day.

You slept relieved but woke up with the sound of police sirens. You glanced at the window outside and saw the yard next door being dug out by your dad and some men in uniform, Yuta's dad watching nearby. How? You ran downstairs to check on Yuta but your mom quickly told you to stay inside. "We're sorry, we trusted you to a murderer." 

"He's not." You shouted trying to see from the window. Yuta was handcuffed, a large man holding him in place. He shook his head when your eyes met and the sight of rotten decaying bones caught your attention. 

Your stomach churned and you vomited on the kitchen sink, your mom helping you by rubbing your back. "He's such a sweet child. What happened to Yuta?" Your mom asked and you itched to tell her that it's not him. A devil inside him.

Your eyes widened at the realization. Nothing happened last night. Now, you're having this weird feeling in your body. A cambion. And you felt yourself fainting at that information.  

---

It's been years, seven years to be exact when that moment happened to your life. Yuta's parents moved to a different town but you still see them from time to time, as well as your parents. When they found out that you were pregnant with Yuta's child, they immediately sent you away to give birth abroad. Your son was three when you went back to the country and introduced him to his dad. 

"Daddy!" Your son cheered seeing his dad walking outside the huge gates of the visitor's area. The older was grinning wide, carrying his son to where you are. He kissed you on your forehead and your son giggled, "Daddy, mommy said I can go to a big school this year." He nodded, letting the young boy sat on his lap. "Grandma and grandpa are going to buy me my bag." 

Yuta giggled and you noticed how the two looked very much alike. It was the exact reason why your parents warmed up on Yuta and let you introduce your son to him. "I'm sorry. But when dad gets out of here, I'm going to pick you up from school every day." 

You can feel your eyes water at that. The younger boy wrapped his arms around his neck, "When are you getting out of here?" You both sighed. It's always his question. 

"Just another three years, then we can be together." There's a lot of pain in his words. "You and mommy can wait for me, right?" Your son nodded. 

He reached out to hold your hand that was above the table. You nodded at him. You waited this long, another three years wouldn't hurt. He engaged in another conversation with the younger boy and you gazed at him, he looks better than the first few years he's here. 

"Time to get back, Nakamoto." The police officer said and your son hugged his father's neck, refusing to let go of him. 

This has always been a problem every time you visit Yuta. "Honey, we have to go. Daddy has to get back." You said quietly, taking him from Yuta. Your son glared at the big man behind his dad and he just turned his head to look at the wall. "Honey, let's get ice cream." You said quickly and the younger smiled at you. The guard turned around, asking what happened that his head was hurting. 

Yuta gave you a worried look but you just shook your head, putting sunglasses on your son. "Say bye to daddy." You whispered and he obeyed you. "I'll come to visit you soon." 

He kissed you on the forehead, "I'm sorry." Again. you shook your head. No one warned you about having a cambion and the risk it takes to be its parents. "I love you." But right now, your son and Yuta are the most important people in your life. 

"I love you, too." And you're willing to throw everything in the past just to be happy with your small family. 

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 2: Will’s Back...and There’s a Bomb (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"Spoke to Dad," Will said to Jay as the two brothers were sat in Jay's apartment sipping their respective beers. "Said you two barely talk. Said if it wasn't for Y/N, you probably wouldn't see him at all."

"I mean, he's not wrong." Jay shrugged.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really, but you should've been here. You should've been home. Mom was dyin'. You were off partyin'."

"You left," Will said as he set his beer down and leaned forward on the couch.

"I left to fight a war. I came home. And you know why that was?" he asked rhetorically. "It was because my humvee hit an IED and me and Mouse were the only two who survived! And because Mom was sick! I came back for Mom and I came back traumatized! Nothing bad even happened to you in New York and you left two fucking days after her funeral, man!"

Luckily Will hadn't been holding his beer or he would've dropped it right then and there. "Jay, I- I never knew it was so hard for you to come Stateside again."

"Forget it. You weren't there then, what makes me think you're gonna be here now? You're probably taking off in another few days anyway, am I right? Not even gonna go see Y/N? Even though she always wants help on her math homework from you and you don't even have the decency to answer her phone calls!"

"I'm sorry that I don't have my phone on me when I'm performing surgeries, Jay!"

Jay's phone rang, stopping the argument in its tracks. "Speak of the devil," Jay mumbled and then answered the call. "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

"I don't understand this stupid homework," you groaned from your desk in your bedroom at home. "Why do I even need to know the equation of a line, anyway? It's not like I'm even gonna use it in life anyway."

"Y/N, like I've told you numerous times, I can help you if it's a single variable problem, but anything more than that, I forgot how to do it. Not really helping your teacher's case for actually using this in life, am I?"

"Yeah, not at all. I guess I'll just try and call Will...he's not gonna answer anyway, but I guess it's worth a shot."

"Wait, how about you FaceTime me?" Jay suggested.

"Why? You already admitted that you can't help me."

"Just do it."

"Okay, gimme a few minutes. I gotta switch devices."

"Oh yeah. You don't have an iPhone yet, only an iPod and a slide phone. Sucks to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't have a grown-up job and can buy my own stuff, Jay."

"And with buying your own stuff and having a grown-up job comes bills. So, be glad you can't legally work yet."

You rolled your eyes. "I'll call you back in a few minutes. And, whatever this is, better be able to help me with this homework since math is my first class tomorrow."

"It'll help. I promise."

"Hmmm, sure." Then, you hung up and switched to your iPod, and hit the FaceTime icon.

"You look like- you look tired," Jay said when he accepted the FaceTime call. He almost said that you looked like hell, but he figured he shouldn't say that.

"Thanks," you replied sarcastically. "You would be, too, if you've been staring at the same problem on your homework for the past hour."

"What's the equation you have to work with?" Jay asked.

"Y=mx+b," you answered.

"Yeah, vaguely remember that. Don't know what it means, just remember hearing it a bunch. Will, you know what that equation is and how to do it?"

"Will's at your house? I thought he wasn't getting back for another week."

"I thought so, too. And then I got called to a bar today because he was being stupid--"

"Hey, I was not stupid!" Will protested.

"Fine. He was being dumb and tried to break up a fight. And, now I think he's got a job at Chicago Med because he got fired in New York--"

"Y/N," Will butted in, "you said you needed help with your homework?"

"Yeah."

"Jay, can you please give me the phone so I can help our little sister with her homework please?"

"Uh, fine. She'll know why you left New York eventually," Jay said as he passed his phone to his older brother.

"Eventually. But not tonight." He turned to Jay. "Can you get me a piece of paper? I'd grab it but I have no idea where you keep stuff in this little bachelor pad of yours."

"Like you didn't snoop through my stuff when I was at work," Jay joked and stood up to get Will a piece of paper.

"Y/N, for Christmas I'm getting you a subscription to Chegg so you don't need to call me for this."

"I'm holding you to that one."

***

God, I hate running on the track. It's literally just running in circles and seeing the same things over and over, no variety in the scenery whatsoever. I wish I could run with Emma, but she's way faster than me, so she's ahead of me by like one or two laps. Uh, this song sucks! I gotta skip--

"Run lockdown! Run lockdown!"

What? Run lockdown? What is the high school cross country coach talking about? Maybe it's just something that the high schoolers have to do for their drills because I sure have never heard of that one.

But then, you saw Emma jogging toward the bathrooms a few yards away from the track.

What the hell?

You ran towards the bathrooms a few yards away from the track and didn't stop until you'd caught up with Emma. "What's going on?"

"No idea. Something about a lockdown."

Once all of you and your coach, Mrs. Rivers, were safely in the bathroom with the door locked, did you get any closure about what was going on.

"There's been a bomb threat."

"What? A bomb threat?"

"What?!"

"So we can't leave?"

"Girls, I need you to be quiet, okay? The police are looking into it, but for now, the campus is on lockdown and we can't leave here until I get the all-clear. The school's already notified parents, so if someone else is picking you up today other than your parents, you need to call them. Just ask and you can use my phone. Everything's going to be okay, though. We have nothing to worry about. We just need to sit tight until I'm told we can leave." Her phone buzzed and you all held your breath. "Looks like Miss G got stuck in the boys' bathroom with all the stinky football boys."

"What if we walk home?" you asked quietly.

"If you walk home, a parent or someone else will have to pick you up since they don't want anybody walking home because, as of right now, they have no idea who did this."

***

"How's your brother doing?" Erin asked as she and Jay were standing around the coffee pot in the break room.

"Pretty sure he's going to quit the new job he just got at Med even though it's his first day," Jay answered.

"What? He got a job at Med?"

"Yeah. Apparently, they were looking for ER docs and he got the job. But, for some reason, now he wants to quit. And, he was late today. Decided to bitch to me about only having almond milk and not having any regular milk in my fridge. Like, dude, you're staying with me. You can deal with a bit of almond milk."

"I don't blame him," Erin laughed. "Almond milk is disgusting."

"But it's better for you...and cheaper."

"Of course that's your reason for getting it."

"Halstead!" Antonio yelled. "Your phone's been ringing off the hook for the last minute. I think it's important."

"Be right there!" Jay quickly poured himself a cup of coffee and then rushed over to his desk.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Who was it?" Erin asked as she emerged from the breakroom, holding her own cup of coffee.

"Y/N," he answered as he fiddled with his phone. "Called me three times in the past minute."

"Any idea what it's about?"

"No, but I'm about to find out."

"Jay!" you whisper-yelled from the other end of the line.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Why are you calling me so much? Are you sick? Do you need me to--"

"There's a bomb."

Jay almost dropped his phone. "A bomb? Are you sure?"

At the mention of a bomb, everyone's heads snapped towards him.

"Yeah, we're hiding out in the bathrooms near the football field right now until they get the all-clear," you told him. "But, they can't let people walk home from school today and Dad's not answering and it's Will's first day, so I was wondering if you could pick me up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Do you mind if I put you on speaker for a quick second?"

"Why? I'm fine Jay, really. Just needed to know if you can pick me up."

Innocent fourteen-year-olds, Jay thought to himself. Of course, she just called to pick to see if you'd pick her up. She hasn't grasped the gravity of the situation, and she's probably thinking that this is just another story to tell. Not that if there's actually a bomb at her school that she could be dead any second if it goes off.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"You can go."

"Okay. Just, listen to the adult that's in there with you, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Bye."

"Bye I love--" He was cut off by the beep which signaled that you had hung up. "--you."

"What's going on? A bomb?" Erin asked, but Jay was already making his way down the stairs.

"Sarge!" Jay yelled as he made his way to the front desk.

"Well, hello to you too, Chuckles. If you're looking for Voight, he's just meeting with a CI and should back soon," Platt told him.

"Sargeant, all due respect, I don't give a damn about Voight right now. I just need to know if you have any idea about the bomb threat at Central Chicago's high school and middle school campuses?"

"I know that they sent someone from bomb squad and some patrolmen over there to see if there's anyone who seems suspicious--"

"Why wasn't Intelligence notified?"

Platt's jaw dropped and she stared at Jay for a second before speaking. "Because last I checked, detective, those schools weren't in our district--"

Jay slammed his hand down on the desk. "Jay," Erin said and grabbed her partner's arm. "I need you to calm down for a second, okay?"

"I don't need to calm down, Erin," Jay spat. "I have every reason--"

"I understand, but being pissed at Platt here isn't going to fix anything. Go back upstairs and I'll be there in a second."

Jay ripped his arm from Erin's grip and stalked upstairs, not without slamming the gate when he was safely inside the Intelligence Unit's area of the 21st District.

"What's his deal?" Platt asked. "I have half a mind to write him up for insubordination for that little scene he just caused."

"Sarge," Erin started, "the school that called in the bomb threat, that's the school Y/N goes to, Jay's little sister."

"What? I thought that only elementary school kids were at school right now?"

"That's true unless there are sports practices."

"And Y/N's in a sport, so she's at school right now." Platt put the pieces together.

"Yeah. And, I know that family isn't supposed to work cases, but could you maybe make an--"

"Erin, go grab Halstead and Dawson, get down to the school. I'll send the information upstairs to Atwater and Ruzek and they can see what they can get. I'll also call Voight and tell him to meet you there."

"Thank you, Sargeant!"

Erin jogged upstairs and into the bullpen. "Jay, Antonio, we're heading to the school! Kev and Adam, Platt said that you're working the case from up here. Voight will meet us there."

"Copy that," Kevin answered.

Jay holstered his gun and was halfway down the stairs before Kevin even finished his sentence.

***

"Kev, what do we know?" Jay asked as they were driving over to your school.

"Uh, I pulled footage from the high school's office and apparently an unknown dude walked in, asked a question, and then walked out all in the span of less than a minute," he answered.

"Can you run facial rec?"

"Nah, not a good enough angle."

"Description?"

"Dude looks Indian or Middle-Eastern to me. He's got short, black hair. Some stubble, not a ton, but it's enough that you can see it even with the bad angle I got. He's kinda chubby, too. Wearing a tan jacket. That's all I got."

"Thanks, man. That helps. Anything from bomb squad?"

"They haven't located a bomb yet, so I guess that's a good sign, right?"

"It is if there's no bomb," Jay replied. "But, just because they haven't found it, doesn't mean there's not a bomb. Whoever the hell did this could've just hid it really well or do whatever a psycho does when they want to blow up a school full of kids."

Jay relayed the information to Erin and Antonio who were also in the car and then hung up his phone. "Any word from Voight or anyone else when I was on the phone?"

"No, you want me to go to the middle school or the high school?" Erin asked.

"Wherever you can get in."

"Jay, we have badges, we can get in anywhere."

"Middle school then. I'm assuming that's where Y/N is."

"Okay."

"Wait!" Jay exclaimed, almost causing Erin to slam on the brakes. "When I was talking to Y/N earlier, she said that she was in the bathrooms near the football field so we need to go to the high school."

"You're sure it's that field? Isn't there a football field at the middle school, too?"

"That's just a shitty practice field," he answered. "Anyway, the high school football field is the only one that has bathrooms near it so that spectators can go to the bathroom when they go to the football games."

"I shouldn't have to tell you this, Jay," Antonio started, "But you can't just burst into the locker rooms and try to get Y/N out of there. No parents are allowed in or out to pick up their kids. And, you're no different. You have to wait for the all-clear to get her out of there."

Jay hated it, but Antonio was right. No matter how much he wanted to get you as far away from this campus as possible, he couldn't until the bomb squad made sure that there wasn't a bomb anywhere near here. If his time in the Rangers had taught him anything, it was that one misstep, and the whole place could get blown up in a nanosecond.

Erin started to pull into the parking lot of the high school near all the cop cars, when one turned on their sirens and pulled in front of them, effectively stopping them from getting any further.

"I know you're worried about your kids," the patrolman said once Erin rolled down her window, "But we can't let anyone in or out until this is all sorted."

"We're not parents." Erin pulled out her badge. "Detectives Lindsay, Dawson, and Halstead from the 21st District's Intelligence Unit."

He looked at the officer next to him. "Desk Sergeant from the 21st said that there'd be some detectives coming." He pushed the button on his radio before anybody could tell him otherwise. "I got the detectives from the 21st here right now."

"Copy," the person on the other end said.

Jay wanted to jump out of the vehicle and strangle that patrolman with his bare hands. "Are you fucking insane?" he yelled.

The one who keyed his radio stepped out of the patrol car, and Jay did the same. "Are you Dawson or Halstead?"

"Halstead. But you, you must be new here because if there is one thing you absolutely do not do when there's even the mention of a bomb is key your radios."

"No offense, detective," the patrolman in the driver's seat started, "but everyone here has been using their radios since we stepped onto this campus."

"There's no bomb," Erin muttered.

They all knew what the patrolman's statement meant: if they had been using their radios the entire time they were here and a bomb hadn't gone off, then there was no bomb to begin with.

Antonio and Erin both stepped out of the car now.

"Who's your sergeant?" Antonio yelled.

"Why? Why do you care?"

"Because of what he just said! You can't key your radios when there might be a bomb, so I think your whole district might need to go back in for a mandatory re-training!"

"I'll call Voight," Erin said.

"Fucking idiots," Jay muttered as he pulled out his phone.

As soon as he was about to dial your number, a call came in from Kevin. "There's no bomb," Jay said as soon as he answered, not even giving Kevin time to tell him anything.

"I mean, yeah, I was callin' to tell you that the bomb squad just declared an all-clear."

"Thanks."

"How'd you know before we even got the call here at the district?"

"They were keying their radios the entire time and nothing happened."

"Yeah, that'll do it."

"We should be back at the district soon."

Jay hung up and made his way to the bathrooms.

You were sitting in silence with Emma next to you when a banging was heard coming from outside causing you to jump.

What if that's the bomber and he's got a gun and wants to kill us before the bomb can get to us? It was irrational, yes, but it was still possible.

"Chicago PD! This is the all-clear."

It was as if everyone in the bathroom let out a collective breath at hearing that there was no bomb or that the bomb had been dismantled.

"Alright girls, you heard the man, we are good to go," Mrs. Rivers said. "Let's head back to the middle school so you can grab your stuff and start getting back to your parents. Was everyone able to get ahold of someone to pick them up? Because I can bring people home if necessary."

All of you filed out of the bathrooms and into the crisp fall air. You were barely onto the sidewalk when you got pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Who the--" You looked up. "Hi, Jay."

"Oh my God, you're okay. You don't know how worried I was--"

"Jay, I'm fine," you squeaked out. "But please let go. You're crushing me."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized and then let go, not without looking you over for injuries even though you promised him that you were in fact fine.

"50-21 George, 50-21 Lincoln, 50-21 Frank, and 50-21 Squad, assistance is requested at Chicago Med for a 10-34. Are you able to assist?"

Jay's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat.

"Jay? Jay?" you asked. "You gonna answer that?"

"This is 50-21 Lincoln, hold us down on that 10-34 at Chicago Med," Erin's voice said through the radio.

"Halstead! We gotta go now!" Antonio yelled.

"Jay, what's going on? Will's at Med. What's happening?"

"Come with me," Jay said and then started ushering you towards the car.

"Shit," Erin said when she saw you. "Antonio, you wanna go with Voight, and then me and Jay will drop her off at home? We can't exactly bring her with us."

"Yeah, good idea." Antonio turned to you. "Glad you're safe, kid."

You nodded as he jogged off to find Voight. Then, you turned back to Jay. "Why are you going to Med? Whatever it is, I wanna go with you because what if Will's hurt? I wanna go!"

Jay got in the passenger seat without answering you and you got in the backseat. Erin started driving to the middle school so that you could go get your backpack from your locker.

Once inside school and connected to the wifi, you took out your iPod and pulled up google.

What does 10-34 mean?

The answer almost caused you to drop your iPod on the tiled floor.

10-34 is a police radio signal that means that a bomb threat has been called in.

You ran to your locker and with shaking hands, put in the combination. How was Jay so calm? How was he so calm when you were silently freaking out? And, to make matters worse, he got to work the case while you were going to be stuck going home and just waiting to see if Will (and Jay for the matter since he would no doubt be in the vicinity of the blast zone) was safe, just waiting to see if your oldest brother, who you just got back, would make it out of his new workplace alive.

You hustled out of school and then got into the backseat of Erin and Jay's car. "There's a bomb threat at Med?"

"Who told you that?" Erin asked, turning around in her seat.

"I googled what 10-34 meant. Jay, please, I wanna go with you. I don't wanna go home!"

"No! I know you wanna make sure that Will's safe, and I do too, but you gotta understand that it's not safe for you there, Y/N," he pleaded.

"It's not safe for you to be there, either!" you argued.

"Y/N, I know you're scared, but I'm trained for this kind of stuff. You are not."

"Please," you begged as your lip began to tremble. "I-It'd be faster for you to just go to Med from-from here instead of dropping me off at home."

"She's got a point, Jay," Erin said.

"What? No way, Er! There is no way in hell she is going in there with us!"

"She doesn't have to go past the tape with us. Just somewhere close by." Erin turned back to you. "Would that make you feel better, Y/N? Being somewhere close by?"

You nodded as you wiped away a tear.

Jay sighed. "Fine," he relented. "We'll drop you off at Mama Garcia's to get your homework done since it's a half-block away from the hospital."

"Will's okay, right? You checked in with him?" you asked.

"I haven't yet, but I promise you when I do, I will text you. I just need you to stay calm and focus on yourself right now. It's no use worrying about Will when you can't do anything about it."

"That's what Mom used to tell me when I was worried about you when you were in Afghanistan. She always told me that it's no use worrying about it since none of us were there with you."

"See, you gotta trust what Mom always told you, kiddo. She was a smart lady after all."

***

"Tell me you're not in there," Jay spoke into his phone as he and Erin walked into the police tent-like structure equipped with fancy tech gear outside of Chicago Med's emergency department.

"I am," Will answered, causing Jay's stomach to drop. "Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here, said he had something worse than Ebola."

"What, like he's spreading it since he blew himself up?"

"Yeah, so essentially, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him."

"Who was he?"

"No idea. But do us all a favor and find out."

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered as he pocketed his phone and entered the tent-like structure where a bunch of people, including the FBI, were sitting at computers.

"Talk to Will?" Erin asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jay answered, "he says he's in there. Apparently whoever the hell blew himself up in there was infected with something that he said was worse than Ebola."

"So if these people get out before we figure out what it is and if it's treatable, we could have an epidemic on our hands?"

"Exactly. Damn, Er. With that mind of yours, you should've gone to med school."

"Very funny, Halstead. You're looking at someone who barely graduated high school and didn't even go to the academy because being in the back of cop cars on the eastside for half my childhood was more than enough experience to qualify me for this job right here."

"I'm gonna start making some calls." Jay turned his attention back to the situation at hand. "Apparently traffic was a mess earlier and Voight and Antonio got called to headquarters to brief some higher-ups about this."

"Fat chance of them knowing anything right now. They've gotta just be trying to keep all the info away from the press." Erin's phone rang. "Speak of the devil."

"I'll call HQ and try to get some more back up to control the situation," Jay said to no one in particular.

***

You kept fiddling with your slide phone, just opening and closing it as you tried--and failed--to focus on your homework as you sat in one of the far back booths at Mama Gracia's. The news was of course playing on the tv in front of you and all the headlines were about what was happening at Med.

"Again we have word of an event at Chicago Med," the news anchor read from her script. "The CFD was able to contain the victims to the ER, but Ebola was mentioned."

Ebola? That was the disease that wreaked havoc on Africa last year.

You knew Will was a doctor and that he was smart, but if he became infected and it was in fact Ebola, what if he died? What if, since Jay was close to Med that he somehow became infected and he died, too? What if you lost both your big brothers in the same amount of time because of some psychopath who decided it was a good idea to blow himself up and put innocent people--innocent first responders--in danger.

"Ay, cariña. ¿A dónde vayas?" Mama Garcia asked as you stood up and made your way to the door, intent on exiting the small restaurant.

"¿Qúe? No entiendo," you answered. You had started taking Spanish this year, so you only understood one word of what she had said to you.

"Sorry, honey. Where are you going? Your brother said to make sure you stayed here."

You and Jay were both pretty close with Mama Garcia. Seeing as it was very close to Med, when your mom had been hospitalized for cancer years ago, you'd always come in here to get dinner. It was here that Mama Garcia had taught you all the words of the toppings that one could put on their tamales, tacos, or burritos, shocking your Spanish teacher when you told her you could tell her in Spanish exactly what you would put on your tamale when you learned about food in class.

"I'm just going for a walk," you answered. "I need some fresh air."

"Okay, don't go far," she warned.

Once out the door, you breathed a sigh of relief and started to walk towards Chicago Med.

When you got close enough, you saw a big white tent and a bunch of fire trucks. You crept to the side and started walking around the side of the building, where there were barely any people and only one cop to keep people at bay. You smiled at him and watched the scene in front of you.

You had seen of those firefighters before on a rare day that you were at the district waiting for Jay and one of them had to walk the firehouse dog, Pouch. He was super cute and all the firefighters were really nice and let you pet him!

"What is it Casey?" a deep voice bellowed.

You knew Casey! Well, you knew of him at least. He was the one that Hermann always said would write him up if he was gone too long with Pouch, so that was always the excuse he gave you when he had to leave the district to go back to the firehouse.

You couldn't hear what Casey said on the other end, but you could hear whoever this guy was talking to Casey. "Okay, we're gonna need to get some CO2 extinguishers inside."

"You mean you're out of fire extinguishers?" a woman next to the firefighters asked.

"Afraid so."

You turned on your heels and sprinted back towards Mama Garcia's. You were a girl on a mission.

"Mama Garcia! Mama Garcia!" you shouted as soon as you were inside.

"Y/N, ¿Qúe pasa?" she asked as she stuck her head out of the kitchen where she was preparing a bunch of batches of tamales.

"They're out of fire extinguishers at the hospital, do you have any that I can bring over there?"

"You are just like your brother," she said, "super sneaky."

"When you live with older brothers and have to steal their Halloween candy, you learn how to be sneaky, Mama Garcia," you joked.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you know this. There's one fire extinguisher back by the bathrooms and I've got two back here I can give you. Esperes un minuto."

You went and grabbed the fire extinguisher from the spot where it was stored in the back by the bathrooms and waited for Mama Garcia to come out with the other two.

"Thank you!" you exclaimed as you took the big bag from her which contained the two other ones. She had put them in a bag for you since they were super heavy.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and carried the other one in your hand. You knew you couldn't run because these were really heavy, but you knew you had to get to Med to help them. Both your brothers were there! And you'd get there, even if it was a lot slower than you had originally planned when you formulated this plan when you were sprinting back to the restaurant five minutes ago.

***

"Is there a detective Halstead here?" a patrolman walked into the tent-like structure and asked.

"That'd be me," Jay answered as he raised his hand and turned away from the computer screen he had been looking at.

"There's a girl outside, Y/N I think she said her name was. Said you're her brother and that she's looking for you. Said she might be able to help."

Jay turned to Erin. "Go," she urged him.

Jay followed the patrol officer to where you were standing and to say he didn't look happy would be an understatement.

"I thought I told you to stay at Mama Garcia's!" he yelled over the crowd of people and the firefighters shouting out orders to each other. "It's dangerous for you here!"

"I know and I'm sorry! But, I came here to see if Will was outside, and I heard that one firefighter talking into his radio thingy, and then the lady next to him said that they were out of fire extinguishers."

Jay crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not impressed.

"So I ran back to Mama Garcia's and I grabbed these." You held up the fire extinguisher that you had set on the ground next to you because you had been carrying it for a while now and you thought it was going to rip your arm off because of how heavy it was.

"Let her in," Jay declared.

He grabbed the extinguisher from you and then made his way over to the firefighters.

"Chief!" he yelled. "I've got some fire extinguishers here!"

Chief Boden cocked his head to the side. "How?"

"Apparently my little sister was here and she heard Ms. Goodwin say that you were out of extinguishers. So, she ran to Mama Garcia's and these are from her restaurant."

You set down the bag that contained the two fire extinguishers. "Geez, those things are heavy!"

"That they are. Thank you for these..." Chief Boden trailed off, not knowing your name.

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, thank you Y/N."

"You're welcome, Chief. Please get my brother out of there safely."

"We're doing our best. And, call me Wallace."

He nodded at Jay and Jay placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to where he had been working alongside everyone else who wanted to figure out what the hell had gone on in there. Behind you, you heard the other firefighters volunteering to go inside the hospital.

"You're not making me go back to Mama Garcia's?" you asked Jay as you walked.

"No," he answered. "It's gonna get dark soon and I don't need you sneaking off from there again."

"So, I'm staying here so you can keep an eye on me?"

"Precisely."

***

You were sitting in a metal folding chair, scrolling through your iPod--wifi courtesy of Jay's hotspot--when three people entered the tent-like structure.

"Detective," Sharon Goodwin said as she entered the area where everyone was working. Jay looked up from the computer he was working at. "The parents of..." she trailed off, allowing you to assume that these were the parents of the man who had blown himself up.

"Alright," Jay said as he walked over to them. "Please, have a seat."

His voice was monotonous, not soft like when he was talking to child victims and not angry like when he was trying to get a hardened criminal to break. His voice, it was just...there.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" he asked once the parents had sat down.

"He was a smart boy," the man started, "always nice...and helpful. This country has given us so much. How could this have happened?"

"He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola."

You felt like you couldn't breathe. So, what the woman on the news had said was true. Your brother--and everyone else in the hospital for that matter--could be infected with something similar--or god forbid, worse--than Ebola.

You couldn't take another funeral. You couldn't take losing another family member before you even learned how to drive, hell before you even got to high school.

Your mind flashed back to when you were four years old. Will was in college and Jay was in his senior year of high school. It was springtime and the weather was just starting to get nice out.

You woke up from sleeping and realized you were thirsty. Seeing as you didn't think it was super late yet, you hoped that maybe Jay or Will would still be up and they'd give you a cup of juice. They were on babysitting duty tonight because your parents had gone out for a date night and knew they wouldn't be back until the early hours of the morning.

With Beary gripped tightly in your hand, you walked down the hallway and towards the kitchen. You saw the living room light on, and then it was quickly turned off.

"Mommy? Daddy?" you asked.

The only light now was from the hallway and you were starting to get scared. Monsters would come out if it was too dark!

Suddenly, the light was flicked back on.

"Y/N, what are you doing up?" Jay asked as he walked towards you.

"I want juice," you told him. But, then you looked at what he was wearing. He was wearing one of those shirts that he had to wear when you and your mom went to his soccer games at other schools. Jay always said that if he didn't wear this type of nice shirt, that he and his team would have to run suicides. You didn't know what those were, but they didn't sound nice. "Why you not in your 'jamas?" you asked. "You have a game? In the dark?"

"Uh," Jay blanched. He couldn't exactly tell his little, very talkative sister, that he was sneaking out to go to a party. "Let's get you some juice."

"Okay!"

Jay got you some juice and started to take your hand to walk you back to your room and tuck you back in when you turned to look at him. "So you going to play soccer? Or you going to see Allie?" He always wore those kinds of shirts when she came over in one of her really fancy dresses. And, Jay would give Allie a flower bracelet, too!

Jay crouched down so he was eye-level with you. "Y/N, you know what a secret is?"

"Yeah! It's when you can't tell somethin' to somebody. Mommy said secrets are bad," you told him, while you swung Beary back and forth in your little hand.

"Well, they're not all bad," he told you. "So, if I told you a secret, you'd be able to keep it?"

"And not tell Mommy or Daddy?" He nodded. "I dunno. I don't wanna get in trouble and have to go in time-out, Jay Jay."

"You won't get in trouble, I promise. And, if you promise not to tell Mommy and Daddy and Will, I'll get you a big pack of Oreos."

"I get Oreos for not telling Mommy and Daddy and Will?"

"Yes, you get Oreos if you don't tell them."

You'd do just about anything for Oreos!

"Okay, I keep it a secret. Where you going?"

"I am going to a friend's house to hang out."

"Okay." You didn't know what was so bad about that, but you wanted to get your Oreos, so you'd keep your mouth shut.

"Alrighty then, let's get you back to bed. Because, if I'm not mistaken, princesses need their beauty sleep."

He tucked you back into bed and got out of the house safely. Now all Jay had to do was to entrust you with the secret that he had snuck and went to a "friend's house", which was code for going to a party.

You had almost fallen back asleep when your door creaked open.

"Y/N," Will whispered.

"Will?"

"Yeah, it's Will," he answered and flicked on your bedside lamp.

"Were you talking to Jay a few minutes ago?"

"No," you lied. You wanted your Oreos!

"Are you sure about that? Because I could've sworn I heard you say Jay Jay."

"You wrong," you told him defiantly.

"Oh yeah? Because I heard him mention Oreos."

"No, no Oreos. He only got me juice."

"So you did talk to him."

"No, I didn't."

"Then who got you the juice?" Will knew you couldn't pour yourself a glass of juice without spilling it everywhere. He also knew that the glasses were up high enough in the cupboard that you needed someone else to reach them for you.

"Uh, uh, the-the juice fairy!"

"The juice fairy, huh? I've never heard of her. Because I could've sworn I heard you ask him if he was going to play soccer and he told you that he was going to a friend's house."

"No, he didn't!" you protested.

"Tell you what, kiddo, if you tell me where Jay went, I will give you Oreos, too."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Will was gonna give you the same thing and Jay might be mad at you. You needed something more. "Oreos and Sour Patch."

"Deal. Sour Patch Kids or watermelons?"

"Kids," you answered.

"Okay, it's a deal. Now, where is Jay going?"

"He went to a friend's house. But he was wearing one of those shirts he wears when he has to go to other schools for soccer," you answered.

"He's going to a party," Will muttered.

"A party? Like my tea parties?"

"Something like that." Where the tea is beer, Will thought to himself. "But, now you have to wait for Jay to give you your Oreos, and then I'll give you your Sour Patch Kids and Oreos."

"Then I have two Oreos?"

"Exactly. Now, time to go back to sleep."

The next day, Jay gave you a family sized-pack of Oreos that you hid in your room. The day after that, Will came home from studying at the library with a family-sized pack of Oreos and a big bag of Sour Patch Kids for you that you also ended up hiding in your room. And, that night at dinner, Will told your parents that Jay had gone to a party. He was grounded until the end of soccer season. But, Will had successfully taught you how to blackmail someone.

"Y/N." Erin's voice broke through your memories of being a little kid and being taught blackmail by your oldest brother. "I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?"

"W-What if Will-- What if he gets the--"

"Y/N, match my breathing."

She took a deep breath in and you tried to follow. It took a few tries, but your breathing eventually evened out and returned to normal.

"Will," you heard Jay say.

Before you could even think, you had jumped off your chair and were barrelling towards Jay. "Will? You're talking to Will? Is he okay? Is he gonna come out soon?"

"Y/N," Jay spoke calmly, "we just need to ask him some medical questions. Go back to where you were."

"Is he okay?"

"Y/N's here?" Will asked from his spot in the ED. "Why? How?"

"It's a long story. But, I'm gonna put you on speaker so that you can tell her that you're okay and then I need you to answer some questions."

Jay put the phone on speaker.

"I'm fine, kiddo. Really. You wouldn't want to see me right now anyway. You wouldn't want to come in here either because it smells really bad."

"You promise you're fine?"

"I promise. Now, I think I need to answer some questions?"

"Yeah, yeah," you heard Jay say as you walked back towards Erin. It was quiet in there now, as everyone was listening intently to what Will was saying.

Apparently, Antonio and Voight had looked up where this psycho worked and had figured out that he was the same guy who had walked into the high school's office earlier that day, which he probably did for a distraction. Now, they just had Will on the other end telling the infectious disease specialist in the ED all the chemicals that he had been working with so that she could test for them.

***

"Jay! Why'd you turn off your hotspot?" you whined as you pulled up google.

"Because you heard the bacteria and the strain and I know you. I am not letting you go down a google rabbit hole to look this up and try and figure out if Will's gonna die."

You sighed and put your head in your hands. Jay was right, of course, he was right, he's a detective for crying out loud!

"But what if Will's gonna die?"

"Y/N." Jay walked up to you. "He's not gonna die. He's gonna be just fine."

"But you don't know that!"

Jay's phone rang. "It's Will."

"Put it on speaker."

"It's not contagious," Will said.

If you weren't sitting down, you would've fallen to the ground in pure relief.

"So, you're good?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Everyone's good. Whatever he had, it died with him. I've got some patients that need work, but I'll be out soon."

***

Everyone from the hospital, the police, and the firefighters were all currently packed into Mama Garcia's. You, Will, and Jay had snagged a booth because your backpack and homework were still there from earlier.

"That's one good thing about being the middle child I guess," Jay stated after he had taken a bite of a tamale. "Not having to be the victim in one of these bomb situations."

You knew he meant, here, today, in Chicago and not overseas. And, you weren't about to wreck his joke by mentioning that.

"Yeah, but you had to work it," Will pointed out.

"Technically, you did, too, man. I think Y/N was the only one who got out of this without a payday."

Jay's phone rang. "Why's Dad calling me?" His eyes went wide. "Oh shit! I didn't tell him that I picked you up from practice." He threw his phone to Will, who narrowly caught it. "You talk to him!"

"Me? Why me?"

"Because he likes you better!"

"But he's calling you!"

You swiped the phone from Will's hand and answered it. "Jay? Do you know where Y/N is? I came home from work and--"

"Dad, it's Y/N. I'm fine. Jay picked me up from practice and I'm assuming you got a phone call about what happened at school and then he had to go to Med to work that case."

"Med? As in Chicago Med? Where Will just started working?"

"Yes, Dad, Chicago Med. And, we're fine. We're just a Mama Garcia's getting dinner."

"It's ten o'clock at night!"

"I know, and we should be home soon. I promise I won't complain about getting up in the morning."

"Okay, well, I'm glad you three are safe. Just next time, tell Jay to call me."

"Okay, Dad. Bye, love you."

"Love you, too."

You hung up the phone and passed it back to Jay. "He didn't disown me, did he?"

You laughed. "No, no he did not."

"Y/N, right?"

You looked up at the sound of your name to be met with a firefighter.

"Yes, and you are...?"

"Matt Casey." He stuck out his hand for you to shake and you did so. Despite hearing about him, you'd never actually met the lieutenant. "Chief Boden mentioned that you were the one who ran down to Med with all those extinguishers."

"Oh, it was no big deal," you told him shyly. "They're actually Mama Garcia's. I just heard you needed them, so I asked if I could run them over to you guys. It's her you should be thanking."

"Well, you played a big part in that. So, if you want a dessert, on behalf of me and all the guys at 51, it's on me tonight."

He handed you a ten-dollar bill. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You made up for your brother almost black-tagging Severide."

"You did what?" Jay practically yelled.

As for you, you had no idea what they were talking about. "What? What's black-tagging?"

"You know what? Never mind," Casey said. "Thanks for all your help today, you guys."

"You were the ones who got them extra fire extinguishers?" Will asked, flabbergasted after Casey walked away.

"Yeah. Jay here wasn't too happy about seeing me over there, but when I told him why he calmed down a bit."

Erin slid into the booth next to Jay and he gave her a kiss.

"Ew, guys! Child in the room!"

Jay stuck his tongue out at you.

"I think he's the child in the room, Y/N," Erin said as she thumbed at Jay.

"So, Y/N, anything else interesting happen today? How'd you do on that math homework I helped you with last night?" Will asked.

"I did really well on it, but that's not even the craziest thing that happened at school today."

"Oh, yeah? Then what was?"

Oh man," you sighed. "Where do I begin? I think to tell you that story I'm gonna need to go get me some Flan."

You picked up the ten-dollar bill Casey had given you and slid out of the booth. If someone would've told you that you'd be buying Flan at Mama Garcia's at ten o'clock at night on a school night, you wouldn't believe them, but it would be plausible at least. The rest of the day? Well, you weren't sure that anyone would believe that you and Jay had been at the location of not one, but two bomb threats in the span of a few hours.

Once you got your Flan, you settled back into the booth. "So, it started out like any normal practice except we had to go to the high school to use the track..."

A/N: Guess who cranked out more than 5k words to get this finished today? That's right, me! Anyway, thank you for almost 8k reads! I know this technically wasn't a PD episode (It was Chicago Fire Season 3 Ep 19), but it had both Will and Jay, and the timeline made it so that it was season 2 of PD, so I thought it was fitting. Finally, please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think about this one!

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