#when I see this now I want urgency fly there again

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Part Six

Steve wakes with a start, yelping and then immediately panicking when the bed covers feel constricting – it passes almost immediately when he realizes where he is and what woke him.

“Hi Eddie,” Steve sighs, blinking the rest of the way awake. He rubs at his crusty eyes, the bedside clock glowing three forty seven at him. Great. “What’s up buddy?”

“Stee,” Eddie says quietly, like he somehow understands the sanctity of the middle of the night, “ow. Dead later,” and then he makes a noise like a fly buzzing. Or a bee. It’s a fair attempt at a gentle ‘bzzzz’ing noise.

Steve sighs, “okay buddy lets go.”

Eddie turns at the top of the stairs and goes down them on his butt, which Steve’s pretty sure he would find amusing if he wasn’t half asleep and half annoyed.

The ground outside is cold enough that Steve hisses when his bare foot hits it, and he does a silly hopping jog to follow Eddie onto the lawn. It is a bee, and it’s moving sluggish and confused on the grass. The weathers getting colder, the time of year plus...probably it’s old?

Steve knows fuck all about bees, but he’s pretty sure individual bees don’t live for that long, and that maybe they sort of hibernate in the winter? Or something? Isn’t that what all of that honey is for?

Maybe they could bring it into the warm and give it some sugar water or something, Steve’s pretty sure he’s heard that from someone, somewhere along the line, “okay little bee guy, here we go.” Steve uses a finger to encourage the fuzzy bee onto his hand.

Steve stands; there’s very faint, and probably first of the year, patches of frost on Eddie’s tent. It hasn’t formed anywhere else, so it’s probably not that bad yet, but still, it’s chilly enough that Steve hops back across the lawn with some urgency.

In the kitchen, Steve says, “here Eddie, you take him,” and transfers the bee into Eddie’s cupped hands. He mixes a tiny mount of sugar water in the bottom of a glass, with no idea at all if it’ll help or not. The bee should probably be asleep, right? Steve can’t remember ever seeing a bee at night, so he assumes they go to bed like sensible bees.

Steve drops a tiny bit of the sugary mixture onto Eddie’s palm, right in front of the bee’s face; he drinks it, so Steve does it again. “Okay, I think we should all try and get some sleep. Eddie, you want to sleep on the couch?”

“Sleep on the couch.”

“Yeah,” Steve rubs his arms, making ‘brrrr’ing noises and generally pretending he’s in arctic conditions. He points to the door, “cold outside. Warm here.”

Eddie cocks his head, but seems to get it, so Steve takes the bee, setting it dead center on a couch cushion, and goes back to bed.

Steve wakes again at a much more normal time; blinking at the nine thirty now on his clock and thinking that is way, way better. He wonders vaguely if the bee lived, but he doubts it. Eddie will probably be sad about it; like the bird.

If that was even sadness; if Eddie even understands the concept of death. Steve has no way to know what Eddie thinks about it.

He heads downstairs; vaguely planning his day. He needs a coffee and some breakfast, then get ready; they probably need some groceries. Working opposite shifts to Robin really sucks; he hasn’t seen her once yet this week. They talk on the phone though, and she swears she's working on Keith. He should check when he goes in later for a day they both have off so they can hang out; if such a thing even exists.

Maybe the kids will come over for a movie night; Steve does now have unfettered access to all the newest releases...and is it sad that Steve’s lonely enough that he wants to invite over that bunch of mongrels? Maybe, he’s not going to think to much about it.

Steve sets the coffee going then heads into the lounge; Eddie’s curled up into a tight ball, his spine bent at a really fucking weird angle and his tail wrapped around himself; Steve knows then that he’s never seen Eddie sleep before, because he’s definitely never seen whatever the hell is happening here. It’s like a cat. Or a snake, maybe. The way he’s all curled up tight on himself; makes Steve’s back hurt just looking at him.

At the other end of the couch is the sad, still, little body of the bee. Steve stares at it, listening to the faint noise from the kitchen; the coffee pot gurgles a little.

Eddie blinks awake, unwrapping himself.

“Morning Eddie.”

“Morning Stee,” Eddie blinks sadly at the bee, and then, very gently, leans over and nudges it with a claw tip, “dead?”

“Yeah buddy, I’m sorry. But at least he was comfortable, right? Warm and...sugared up.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, watching as Steve scoops up the bee and following him into the kitchen. Steve very nearly puts the bee in the trash can, but veers off at the last moment. It feels a little wrong, throwing the little dude out; he also doesn’t know what Eddie would thinks and feels vaguely like Eddie might...judge him.

Steve heads outside and deposits him in a plant pot instead. When he comes back in, Eddie’s raiding the fridge, “pear inied. Grapes inied. Celery inied.”

Steve sighs, “I know buddy, I’m sorry. I’ll go and get more, okay?” Steve goes out to the freezer in the garage and comes back with a whole bag of frozen peas, and that seems to completely make up for it. He pours Eddie a bowl of peas, and himself a bowl of cereal, sticking a spoon in both. He downs the coffee so he doesn’t have to make two trips.

“Couch, TV?”

Eddie nods, following Steve. Eddie turns on the TV since Steve’s hands are full, and they sit side by side on the couch, Eddie very carefully using his spoon.

“Called?”

“It’s a toothbrush.”

Eddie watches from his seat on the floor next to Steve; he’s high enough to easily lean his elbows on the counter top.

“Why?”

And ‘called?’ Steve can handle all day long, but ‘why?’ has rapidly become a tricky thing to navigate.

“To clean.” Steve grins big as he can, clicking his teeth together, “teeth.”

“Teeth,” Eddie snaps back, then turns to the mirror, clicking his teeth at himself. “Eddidie clean teeth?”

Steve snorts a laugh, and Eddie looks at him, tilting his head but smiling too. Steve figures that a solid ninety five percent of the time, Eddie’s just happy to be involved.

“Okay buddy I think I have…” Steve rummages in the cupboard under the sink, “ah ha!”

“Ah ha!”

“Here you go,” Steve unwraps the new toothbrush, really, really fucking glad it’s a different color to his own. “Steve’s is blue, Eddie’s is purple.”

“Purple.”

“You got it buddy,” Steve wets the bristles of both, and then puts the tiniest little dab of toothpaste on Eddie’s before putting the proper amount on his own.

“Here you go.” Steve hands it over, and then Starts brushing his teeth. Eddie holds his own brush, watching Steve closely in the mirror before attempting it himself. His movements are slow and cautious, be he definitely gets the idea.

Steve rinses his brush under the water, leaving it running as Eddie does the same. Eddie has no trouble dropping his toothbrush into the cup next to Steve’s.

Eddie explores the bath next; all this shit must have been here when Eddie spent a night in the tub, but Steve was beaten to hell and still a little fucking high on Russian truth serum when all that was going on, so he honestly doesn’t really remember much of those first couple of days. “Called?”

“Shampoo. It’s to clean hair,” Steve tugs on his hair to demonstrate, “hair.”

“Eddidie clean hair?”

“Uh. I mean, if you want to?”

Eddie gets the cap open, squeezing the bottle carefully and sniffing the hole, “good.”

Steve’s current shampoo smells like apples, and Steve realizes what’s going to happen just as it’s too late to stop Eddie from sticking his tongue out.

Eddie smacks his lips together, looking truly disgusted, “fucking gross.”

“Hey! Language!” Steve takes the bottle from a grinning Eddie. He looks so pleased with himself Steve can’t stay mad, “damn kids,” he sighs. Eddie definitely got that one from Max, the little reprobate. “Okay, if we’re going to do this, in the tub.”

Eddie points, “in?”

“Yup.”

Eddie manages it, hoisting himself up and the flicking his tail and sliding his ass over the edge, “Eddidie in tub.”

“You got it buddy,” Steve takes the shower head down, pointing it away from Eddie while it warms up, then moving it a little onto his tail, “feel okay?”

“Warm,” Eddie reaches out to feel the water, “good.”

“Okay, here we go then.”

Eddie sits patiently, head tilted back as Steve wets his hair down and then adds the shampoo. Eddie’s hair is thick, like, insanely thick, and it takes a bit for Steve to work the lather in. The individual strands are thick too, coarse and a little wiry. The back of Eddie’s scalp feels strange too, like his skull had ridges on it; lines that all join together right at the back of Eddie’s head. You’d never be able to see it through his hair.

Steve goes through half a bottle of conditioner on him, but Eddie sits patiently through all of it, flicking his fingers through the water, even when Steve combs it through and catches on snags, Eddie’s doesn’t complain at all. He tilts his head back easily when Steve directs him to, “okay, nearly finished.”

Once they’re done, Eddie climbs out of the bath and onto a towel, sitting on the floor while Steve dries his hair; he gets the idea and dries his arms and torso himself. Steve’s so used to looking at him that he doesn’t find the lack of belly button and nipples at all odd any more. Just looks normal. Looks like Eddie.

“Okay buddy, just let me grab a shower, and then you can help me write a grocery list,” Eddie follows Steve into the bedroom, watching as Steve grabs clothes before heading for his shower. Steve clicks the lock on just in case; Eddie’s not exactly worked out stuff like boundaries or personal space yet.

When Steve comes out, Eddie’s waiting patiently, sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed, wearing his yellow sweater.

Part Eight

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can���t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   

[harley-sunday]

Vagabond

Summary: There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Daniel. Even if it means flying out to Singapore on race day. 

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1.9k

AN: How could I not? ♥

Part of the Pieces of Us universe (collection of one-shots). 

Pieces of Us masterlist 

The sound of your phone ringing pulls you out of your early morning slumber and you blindly reach for where it’s laying on your nightstand, swiping right to accept the call without really looking at the screen, “Hello?”

“Hey,”

You pull the phone away from your ear and look at it in disbelief, thinking maybe this is all a bad dream, but the caller ID confirms it's not, “Blake?”

“Yeah.”

Shit. 

“Taff-” there’s an urgency to his voice that makes your heart beat faster and sends your mind racing because there’s no reason to call this early unless- Oh God- Daniel- What if-

“Taff,” Blake says again, his voice kinder now. “I need you here.” 

You let out a whimper in pain because no- Not like this- God, not like-

“Oh. No that’s not why- Shit. He’s ok,” Blake quickly tells you, “but I need you to listen, ok?”

You nod, then realise he can’t see you and so you whisper, “Ok.” 

“There’s a flight from Perth at twelve ten,” Blake tells you, using what you and Daniel dubbed his ‘manager-Blake-voice’. The one that doesn’t take no for an answer. The one who you trust blindly. And so you listen. Even if you don’t know what the hell is going on. “You’re flying Qantas, so you can use priority. I’ve already checked you in, I’ll send you the boarding pass in a couple of minutes. I’ll text you the rest of the information for when you land in Singapore, but there’ll be someone to pick you up, drive you to the track so you can see him before the race starts, ok?”

Twelve ten. Ok. That’s means you’ll have to be at the airport at ten at the latest, even if you only bring a carry-on, so you’ll have to leave here at nine-thirty, which is an hour from now, so technically there’s enough time, unless-

“Taff?” Blake’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “I need you to make this flight, ok? It’s important.”

It’s important. 

The words echo through your mind as you try to connect the dots, try to figure out what it is you’re missing, try to understand why Blake would call you at eight AM on a Sunday morning during the Singapore Grand Prix weekend, asking you to fly out not even four hours later. You try to come up with a million other reasons why he needs you there but it’s no good- You know there can be only one.

People say that whenever something mentally or physically terrifying happens, a person will either fight, or flight. You like to think there’s a third option; save what you can and make sure no one gets left behind. And so you ask, “Do you want me to pick up Joe and Grace?”

“No.”

You push yourself up from where you’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed and walk over to the window, peeking through the curtains to find the sun already high in the sky, “No, they’re driving to the airport themselves, or-”

“No, they can’t make it in time.” 

“Blake,” you whisper, something heavy settling deep in your chest because this is not how it’s supposed to go. “If this is- If he’s-” You take a shaky breath, “They should be there.” 

“I know, babe, but-” he sounds absolutely defeated. “I looked at all the options but with them at Karroun Hill they’re too far from an airport to make it work on such short notice.” 

You feel your throat go dry, because his parents should be there. “Michelle then?”

“She’s got the kids-”

“I can take the kids,” you offer immediately. “If I go over there and watch the kids, Michelle can go. They might still let you change the name on the ticket if you-”

“Taff,”

You start to feel yourself get desperate, “He needs his family there, Blake.” 

“Taff,” Blake tries again, his voice filled with sympathy. “You’re his family too.”

***

It takes you forty minutes to shower, pack a small overnight bag, and leave the house. Of course you need to stop for gas, which costs you another ten minutes, but ninety minutes after Blake called you’re at the airport and waiting for your flight to board. Which isn’t for another two hours. 

You kill the time by having breakfast, or try to anyway, because you’re way too nervous to eat more than a couple of bites and so instead you find a quiet corner and send a text to Grace and Joe to let them know you’re flying out to Singapore. Michelle gets a text too- by now you know better than to call anyone in a public place, especially with this kind of sensitive information- and she replies within minutes, telling you to give her brother a big hug when you see him. 

You decide against texting Daniel, don’t want him to be distracted, and instead you spend your time people-watching and remembering the last time you were in Singapore, two years ago, when Daniel finished fifth in that piece of shit McLaren. It was his best result in that god awful final year with the team and so you ignored Zak Brown’s pleas to celebrate with the team and instead opted for a quiet celebration with just the two of you. 

You’re so lost in thoughts you almost miss the final boarding call but there’s a kind gentleman next to you that nudges your elbow and says, “Isn’t that your flight, sweetheart?”

***

In the end, there’s a delay leaving Perth, a delay arriving at Singapore, and a never-ending queue at customs. To say you’re on edge when you finally get into the car Blake sent to pick you up would be an understatement. It’s already past eight in the evening and there’s no way you’ll make it to the track in time to see Daniel before the race. Your already broken heart breaks into a million more pieces at the thought of that and it takes everything you have not to break down right then and there. 

The driver seems to feel there’s an urgency, weaving in and out of traffic effortlessly, dropping you off at the paddock entrance a mere twenty minutes later with a hesitant smile. You make sure to thank him by tipping generously before you get out of the car and step into the hot Singapore air.

With only a few minutes left until the race starts there’s an almost eerie quiet in the paddock, most people getting ready in their respective garages, pit walls, or starting boxes, and so you make it through the gates and into the alley behind the garages with relative ease. No one seems to pay you any mind as you walk to the VCARB garage, which suits you just fine. 

The formation lap starts just as you enter the back of the garage, the roar of the engines sending a shiver down your spine. You find your way through the maze of corridors, offices, and driver rooms with relative ease, grabbing your pair of headphones as you pass the comms wall, and then all of a sudden you’re in the actual garage and there’s no going back. 

You look around and find Blake in his usual spot, near the back, standing a little to the side so he can keep an eye both on the monitors and the pit wall. The pit crew is too busy watching the cars line up on the starting grid and so you’re able to sneak past them to stand next to Blake. You look at him once you’ve put your headphones on and connected them to the comms unit and your heart, oh your heart. He looks so defeated, the sad smile he wears so unlike him, and you hate it. 

There’s so much to say and yet you both keep quiet, knowing now’s not the time. It’ll come- After. 

And so when Blake puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, just as the red lights come on one by one, you have to bite your lip to keep from crying and try to get time to slow down. You don’t want this race to ever start. Or end.

***

It’s when Daniel gets boxed on lap fifty-eight that Blake nudges you and motions for you to take your headphones off. When you do, he leans in and puts his mouth close to your ear, “Pierre’s going to share his channel with you after the finish, ok?”

All of a sudden there’s a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod.

***

“Ok mate, thanks again for the hard work,” you can hear Pierre tell Daniel. “When we stop at the bridge, P1 on full-car switch-off, P0 on everything else.” On the screen you see Pierre looking at the garage from over his shoulder, “There’s someone here with a special message for you, Daniel.” 

“Hi babe,” you start, the tears you’ve been fighting all day finally spilling over. “I just want you to know that I’m so proud of you.”

There’s a lot of static on the line but you think you hear him let out a quiet laugh, “Ah, I can’t believe this.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, ok?” You smile through your tears, “Take it all in, Dan. It’s yours.” 

On the screen that shows you his onboard camera, you can see him nod. It takes a while before he answers, but when he does his voice is full of emotion, “Yep. Understood.”

***

It’s when the screens show Daniel sitting in his car, in Parc Fermé after the race, that you need to step out of the garage and into the corridor that leads to Daniel’s driver room. Because all of a sudden it hits you. He’s never going to have a moment like this ever again. The quiet crying from earlier turns into big, ugly sobs because God, it hurts. There’s too many people around for anyone not to notice you and so you use your access code to unlock Daniel’s room and step inside, a safe haven in the middle of all this madness.

You try some of the breathing techniques Michael taught you when he was still working with Daniel and after a few minutes you’ve calmed down, if only a little. It’s then the door opens and Daniel steps inside and all of a sudden it’s like nothing else exists. He looks the way you feel and so you are wrapping your arms around him before he’s even had the chance to close the door behind him and tell him, over and over and over again, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

 You know there’s not much time, know he has interviews and debriefs to get to, and so you pull back a little and cup his face, rubbing your thumbs over the stubble of his beard before you lean in and kiss him. Hard. 

“I should go,” Daniel whispers against your lips.

“I know-”

“Wait for me?”

“Take as long as you need.” You stand on your toes and press another kiss to his lips, “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” There’s a hint of that mischievous smile you fell in love with all those years playing on his lips, and so you match his smile and add, “And-” 

Of course he plays along, “And?”

You rest one hand against his chest, over his heart, “You love me for it.”

He lets his hands fall to your hips and rests his forehead against yours, sharing a breath, “That I do.”

“That you do.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead then, “Always.” 

[thursdayinspace]

For today's morning smutlet, I was having feelings about early season 2, because I always have feelings about early season 2 so that's not special. Buuuuut my head was like "omg imagine they'd lost all hope of the files ever being reopened? And they'd decided there was really no point denying their feelings anymore? I mean look at the way they look at each other; THEY'RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR. Anyway. Smut.

“This is such a bad idea,” she says, but she can’t keep the smile off her face and he can’t remember ever being this happy.

“A terrible idea,” he agrees. He kisses her lips, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her lips again. She’s naked beside him on her bed and she’s as gorgeous as he tried so hard not to imagine for so long.

“But why is it a bad idea again?” she asks, and he pulls back, shaking his head, trying to come up with a reason.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe it isn’t.”

She doesn’t mention work, for which he is grateful, but he knows she’s thinking the same thing he’s thinking. The fact that the files are closed, probably forever, hurts like hell, the fact that they may never work together again hurts even worse, but the fact that they no longer have any reason to deny themselves this makes up for all of it.

“I think I don’t care,” she says, and he agrees. None of it matters. All that matters is her. Them.

Her skin is soft under his hands, under his lips as he kisses his way down her perfect body. She’s wet for him and he’s so hungry for her. She tastes like heaven. Her hands come down onto his head and she lets out a soft, eager whimper as he explores her, licks between her folds, flicks her clit with his tongue, sucks it between his lips. Testing and learning how to draw sounds from her, how to make her thighs clench and tremble, how to make her lose control. It takes her a while but he doesn’t care, he’d do this forever. And when she comes he almost comes with her; the knowledge that he did this for her is almost enough to push him over the edge. Instead, he makes his way back up to her, rests his head over her pounding heart and feels like he could fly.

He waits until her breathing has calmed, until she rolls onto her back and pulls him with her, drawing him on top of her. The metaphor is so trite and cheesy and he never liked it, but he feels it in this moment: sliding into her feels like coming home. She’s tight and hot around him and they’re connected, their bodies following where their hearts went long ago. *I love you*, he thinks, but it’s too soon. Maybe tomorrow. He doesn’t know if he can wait much longer than that to tell her, tell her what he now knows he’s been feeling since last year in Oregon.

Moving in her feels like the most natural thing in the world. She clings to him and keeps her eyes locked with his, and he can see it, he can see his feelings reflected back to him. He thinks he might cry but what comes out instead is a laugh of pure joy and gratitude that makes his head spin. She grins at him and cards her hands through his hair, and he lets his forehead drop against hers and rolls his hips harder, making her gasp and grip onto his biceps with surprising strength. He wants her to leave bruises.

Her legs come up around his waist and he thrusts into her in a rhythm set by need, but he feels no urgency, no desperation, none of the things that squeezed like a vice around his heart these past few weeks.

When she comes a second time, he can’t hold back any longer, and his orgasm hits him so hard he can’t breathe, and it’s release and relief and a gift from her all at the same time.

She falls asleep in his arms that night and he stays awake for as long as he can, not wanting to miss a moment. If he couldn’t think of a reason not to do this earlier, he knows now that they’re never going to be able to stop. Another trite and cheesy phrase he’s heard too often and never liked, but suddenly he understands: when you know, you know. And he knows. He knows.

[hayleylatour]

Finding peace 🕊️

Content warnings- unprotected PIV (don’t do this that’s how you end up in this situation) Oral (f receiving) this is basically just smut. Future talks about pregnancy and options some fluff at the end cause I already love them

Summary- Mia is a 24 year old new bookstore owner who’s best friend is dating the drummer of up and coming metal band Bad Omens Nick Foilo. Jess is known for trying to set Mia up on blind dates. What happens when Mia meets Noah Sebastian

A/N- I may have been writing this non stop since i posted chapter one.

Pairings- babydaddy!Noah Sebastian x OC (Mia)

Chapter two- Mia’s pov

“Your place or mine?” I whispered

Noah pulled back an inch and smirked “you live alone right? Jolly is at my place, Jess said you live alone.”

I gave Noah my address and told him to follow me there, my nerves felt like live wire. My wrist still tingling where he touched. The five minutes drive to my apartment felt like an eternity but as I threw the car in park Noah was already standing beside the door. We walked up in silence, shoulder to shoulder his pinky ever so lightly y grazing my hip.

Noah is on me before the door is closed, pushing me against the wood and diving into my neck. “Fuck you smell so good angel”

Moaning I thread my hands through his hair. Hands pull at the hem of my hoodie his eyes dilated and asking permission to continue, I nod giving him the go ahead “words angel. I need to hear you say you want this.” He breathes, fingers toying with the hem now.

“I want this, Noah, please” slowly the toying stops and he’s pulling the fabric up and over my head, throwing it across the room as if it had burned him. His fingers graze over my chest and down my belly, popping the button of my pants. I can feel his bulge against my hip. “Stop teasing.” I growl ripping the jeans down my thighs and reaching for his zipper. He laughs at my urgency pushing my hands away to remove his jacket and shirt. Fuck me sideways, seeing his body covered in artwork made my knees weak.

“Bedroom.” I breathe

Noah chuckles “where is it?” He says grabbing the backside of my thighs lifting me, my legs circling his waist. I point him in the right direction before licking a long strip up his neck. Noah lays me on the bed lowering himself to the floor and pulling me by my ankles. A squeak escaping my lips followed my a deep moan as his hot breath fans over my clothed center

“You’re soaked angel, all this for me” Noah says into my pussy before licking me through my panties. His hand coming up and resting on my chest as his teeth nip at the exposed skin. Looking down his eyes are already on mine, dark obsidian pupils bore into me and he takes the band of my underwear in his mouth and pulls. Once off Noah slides my soaked garment into his back pocket.

“You taste so sweet, such a pretty pussy.” The vibrations from his voice sent a shockwave through my core

whining, his name comes out like a chant “Please don’t stop, I’m so close” His head dips again, licking a broad stripe up to my clit, before sucking it in between his lips. His fingers prodding my entrance before siding into me, massaging that spot inside only he has ever been able to reach. The pleasure causing my vision to go black.

When Noah comes up for air his chin is covered with my slick. Pulling myself up to a sitting position I tug his closer to me and smash my lips to his. A surprised gasp leaves him before he begins kissing me back. Crawling over me my hands fly to his jean cover cock. Palming him through the material. Groaning he kicks them away leaving him in his boxers.

“I didn’t bring any protection.” He admits pulling away slightly.

“I’m clean, i promise it’s okay, please” dark eyes staring down at me. Sliding the last of the clothing off his cock springs free from its confinement and rest against my stomach. Noah reaches a hand between our body’s and slowly slides himself into me.

“Fuck you’re so tight” hips rocking slowly, bringing my right leg to his shoulder and leaning down to connect our lips again. My pussy pulsating around him as he slams himself into me so fast i nearly lose my breath. My vision goes blurry and the euphoria feeling fills my brain.

“You look so good like this, look so sexy taking my cock” He moans into my shoulder. The coil in my belly gets tighter and tighter. “You gonna cum? Come on cum for me, good girl”

His pace doesn’t change as he reaches his hand down to rub tight circles on my clit, hurdling me over the edge.

“Fuck I’m coming, Noah please” im not sure what im begging for, but the words rush past my lips before my brain can process it.

“Me too angel just let go, fuck where do you want it?” Lowering my leg to his waist, I lock my ankles behind his back.

“Inside please, inside me” I moan trying to pull him closer.

“Fuck are you sure?” Nodding was all he needed before he coated my walls in his hot release, slowing to a stop. Noah leaves a quick peck on my forehead before standing and exiting to the bathroom. Coming back with a cool washcloth and wiping my thighs.

“Stay.” I mumble sleep already taking my body over. Noah climbs in next to me pulling my head onto his chest, his heart rate is still erratic evening out after a few minutes.

Sleep eventually comes and Noah’s breathing evens to a slow and steady rhythm.

I’m awoken by the smell of pancakes and coffee. Sitting up and stretching I hear Noah humming a tune I don’t recognize, padding over to my dresser and pulling on an over sized tee-shirt I make my way to the kitchen. Noah has his back to me his boxers hanging low on his hips, whisking more batter with a plate of pancakes to his right and a cup of steaming coffee to his left.

“Good morning sleepy head” he says turning to me giving me a toothy grin

“You didn’t have to make anything but thank you.” Noah and I sit to eat as he tells me about the next album he’s working on and how this melody has been playing in his head since late last night. He goes on to ask about the store.

After we eat Noah walks to the front door where our clothes are haphazardly thrown. Picking them up he pulls his phone from the pocket. Before turning to me and handing me the device

“Put your number in, in case you need to blow off some steam again, I’ll be here” his eyes moving across my face and down to my body. I take the phone and quickly type my number sending myself a text.

“Hey i gotta get to the studio. But text me okay? Don’t be a stranger Mia.” Noah said pulling on the white tee before making his way to the bedroom.

After Noah left I sat on my couch and called Jess. “What happened to not trying to set me up Jess?”

“Well I may have mentioned to Noah after we got of the phone yesterday that you were in a dry spell and needed a good fuck, I didn't think he'd actually go for it, BUT! it worked because you’re hair is a mess and you’re face has some more color to it now. Tell me, was it amazing? I’ve heard rumors that Noah is amazing in bed” Jess pulls her phone closer to her face. Laughing I tell my best friend about the best sex I’ve had in a long time.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.177 Daredevil

It got late, and I decided we needed to wrap up the night. We were right across the street from the rental, but I didn't want to mess around and find out this city is unsafe at night. My thought was to go inside for a drink, but it was kind of crowded, so we took a bench just outside one of the entrances for my next party trick.

"You know I love you, right?" I said.

"Yes, Luca."

"And you know I'd do anything for you..."

She nodded.

"And you know-"

"Luca! Stop."

Okay, I threw that last one in there to make her laugh.

"Okay. I'll get to the point. When I bought the flowers, I saw they had all kinds of sweet treats..."

Her eyes lit up just like I thought they would.

"They had chocolate, strawberries, and all the usuals. But you know what I got?"

I pulled out the pink box, and she sat on the end of the bench, waiting anxiously to know what tantalizing goodness awaited her. I sat there for a few seconds, toying with her emotions.

"Luca, open the box!!"

I laughed so hard. Upon threat of harm, I opened the box, and she gasped.

"DONUT HOLES?!?!? You really do love me!"

Score! She clamored for the box, but I snatched it away.

"Wait, now. Let me feed you like they do in the movies."

It only took her two seconds to get all doe eyed on me and open her mouth wide.

My plan was to be funny and toss one into her mouth like a basketball, but my plan backfired. I missed her mouth. Like, entirely. It hit her in the nose and crashed down to the ground. Sophia gasped again even louder.

"Save it, Luca!!"

If I weren't trying to go after it like we didn't have eight more in the box, I would have laughed at her concern for this lone donut hole.

Needless, I let her eat her own donuts after that. No, she did not share, and that was fine by me.

The air got chilly, and Sophia wanted to get away from the breeze and go inside. That was actually perfect because I had one last trick up my sleeve. The gift shop also had all kinds of nectars from all over the worlds. Since strawberries are related to romance, I bought a bottle of strawberry nectar and poured us a glass. I don't know what they put in that stuff, but my lips got real loose. Like I said before, I'm not a romantic dude, but I sure was spitting some serious game that night. My tongue was so silver, they could give it out as an award. I didn't know I had it in me, and neither did Sophia. She was surprised at first, but she ate it all the way up.

But I didn't stop there. I went from dropping lines to kicking the hornet's nest. I should have known better than to start something I can't finish, but I just couldn't get enough of her, and it was so nice having uninterrupted time together. She, too, fought a losing battle, and I knew I needed to stop or figure out how to make this happen because there was no way we were taking this back to the house. The way we get down? Dub will never invite us anywhere again, heh. She cut her eyes at me in that way when we're about to fly to Sixam. I looked around to see if we were alone because we just might have to get arrested for public indecency.

"Closet," she said with urgency.

I looked at it with a raised eyebrow, thinking I'd rather go to jail than find out if that closet is clean or not.

"Seriously?"

"Come on! It'll be fun. No one is around anyway."

I've never turned down my wife, and I was not about to start. She always finds ways to get me to do things I've never done.

Closet woohoo!! Who knew?

[armins-main-hoe]

Purple Petals of Velaris

Ever wonder what it would be like if Rhysand had another younger sister, one who had not even been able to fly the day his mother and sister got killed? A baby who got spared by Tamlin who could not find it in himself to kill a such a young soul who looked up at him and gave him a toothless smile. So before his father and brothers could find the youngest child of the night, he hid her away, giving her a sweet flower to suckle on so she's keep quiet, walking over to his brothers and father, trying to avoid stepping in the pool of blood on the floor, saying that their job is done.

His father took the heads of the two women, putting them into a box which were then sent down a river towards the nearest camp while cutting their illryian wings off to keep as a trophy. However, one of Tamlin's brothers remembered that there was a third child of the night court. They began asking Tamlin where that child would be, to which Tamlin faked his lack of knowledge. However, before they could go and search, they picked up on distant shouts coming from the illyrian camp a few miles away.

The high lord of the Spring court saw no desperate need to kill a baby, much less a female baby who doesn't hold that strong of a threat to his power over the urgency to leave the night court before they are found. So he left. When Illryian soldiers flew along the river they saw no signs of the bastards who sent them the heads of their high lord's lady and child. Nothing apart from the remains of their bodies and the blood soaked snow.

Rhysand did not know what to feel yet he felt so much at the same time when he was told of the murder. His father was in an even worse state. Did not help that no one knew what happened to the baby. So when his father came to him, telling him of his plan to kill Tamlin's family. Rhysand did little to think twice and joined him.

Only to come back as the new high lord of the night court.

He had winnowed into his room, his chest heaving. He did not get even a wink of sleep that night. His mind was far to busy going on with what happened over the course of a few hours to even think of laying down on his bed. As the sun began to rise, he sat on the rooftop of his home. The home he now owned. There was this anxiety sitting right on top of his chest that he couldn't get rid of no matter how much he drank.

He was lucky that only Cassian and Azriel were the ones to see him in such a state first. The night court right now was vulnerable since Rhysand had yet to prove to everyone that he was a worthy high lord. If anyone, especially the spies of the other courts that would always be there, saw him like this right now, Cassian only shuddered at the thought.

So Cassian walked his friend downstairs to either sleep off the alcohol or wait it out. Anything just not out in the open. Azriel followed close behind, holding a bundle of a blanket in his hands.

Rhysand woke the next afternoon with probably the worst hangover he had ever experienced. Though his two friends had stayed with him the night and were there when he woke up, helping him ease off his headache.

"Rhys, about you're sister-" Azriel started but Rhysand cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Cassian stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The baby Rhys, he's talking about the baby."

Rhysand looked at him then at Azriel. No one knew where his baby sister was after the murder that yesterday. His father had sent out soldiers of all sorts to find her but no one could. When Rhysand went to the Spring Court last night, he had killed Tamlin's brothers but also had been looking for his baby sister, to see if they had taken her. However, she was nowhere to be seen or scented.

Azriel started again. "We found her last night-"

Rhysand's eyes widened, his body tensed as he quickly walked over to Azriel. "Is she... She's not..?"

"Alive. Rhys, she is alive. She's in her room right now." Cassian told him.

He did not waste a second longer to winnow to the child's room. He opened the door, immediately looking over the cot. He let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding when he saw her, playing with purple petals of a flower in her small hands.

"Oh, mother.." He fell to his knees, his hands on the edge of the cot as he sobbed. He had been so sure that he had lost all of his family. All within the span of a few hours but there she was. The most vulnerable of his family, the youngest and weakest, she had survived to stay with him. He isn't alone. He'd never be alone.

He would never lose her. Not in the way he lost his mother and sister, not in any way. He'd never let it happen.

He heard her squeal and coo over his tears. Wiping his wet cheeks, he stood back up. Looking at her again before picking her up. She babbles and reaches out to touch his face, the petals that were in her hands fell to the floor. Putting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes as more tears fell. The baby simply put her little hands on his face, fingers feeling his stubble, brows furrowing at the feeling. She doesn't know what happened, too young to realise her entire family is gone. Too young to realise she only has her older brother left to rely on.

But that does not matter. He swears to keep her safe. He'll raise her. He'll protect her. He'll do it at any cost, but she can not leave him. She can't leave him in this cruel world alone.

Should I turn this into a fic?

[seris-circle]

The Other Woman Pt. II

drew starkey x femreader

Warnings: ER, Pregnancy, Hospitalization, swearing

Sirens blared in the distance as you were wheeled through the emergency department doors. The paramedics were able to calm your nerves on the ride over and you were now nursing the oxygen like it was in unlimited supply. Because of the distress and grand entrance, you became the priority to the medical staff, entering a room immediately. As the nurses began connecting your monitors, your mother took it into her own hands to call drew with your phone, see if that sends a sense of urgency his way. It took about three tries but on the second ring of the third call, there was an answer…

Drew’s POV

The sounds of tourists, shop-goers, and mopeds surround me as I wait for the server to come back around with the food. The shoot was canceled for today, so I wanted to take as a day to just stay in due to the increasing Italian heat but Odessa convinced me to join her and tyler for lunch. I was a bit hesitant due to the call with y/n last night but I’ve spent a comfortable part of my downtime here alone so I might as well enjoy some company.

When we did arrive at the restaurant though, I realized my cell was dead so odessa offered to charge it for me. She took it and connected it to the wireless pod in her bag, keeping it from the sunlight. It wasn’t until after coming out of the bathroom that I heard my ringer go off. When I heard it though it sent me into an immediate panic because I have off for everyone except y/n and seeing as it is 2 am her time didn’t seem right. I walked over as quickly but as casually as possible. Finally reaching the table, i grabbed my phone out of odessa’s bag and answered it.

“Hello?” i answered with a slight confusion as to why y/n would be calling this early/late.

“Drew, this is y/m/n. Why the hell have you not answered your phone?” she said in the most stern mother-in-law tone you could imagine.

“What do mean? Who’s been calling?” I responded, looking down at my notification queue and seeing 5 missed calls from danica and 2 from y/n. “Aw, I just saw. My phone was on silent for everyone except of y/n and i’ve been out to lunch. What's going on?”

“Good to know you still have some priority over your family, but you're going to have to cut that little lunch date short, y/n in the hospital, its the baby.” she continued on the other line.

“What? What do you mean, its too early for anything to be happening?” I began to become frantic over the line.

“That's what we all thought but guess not. So get on the earliest flight you can find before I fly over there myself and get you here because my baby will not go through this without the person that put her in this whole situation.” y/m/n basically was screaming under that whisper at this point.

“Ye- yeah. I’ll see you soon” I choked out. She scoffed before speaking up again, but I hung up without even realizing it. This can’t be happening. I’m not ready, its not time. The baby isn’t ready. My sweet angel can’t come yet, I have to be there to see her and hold y/n hand as she does. y/n. She’s all alone. She can’t do this all alone, without me. I don’t think i could forgive myself. I gather my thoughts and bring myself back to the conversation.

“I need to go now… here’s 20 for my portion of the bill and tell the kitchen crew to toss my food,” I said with slight panic in my tone. I shuffled to put my wallet back in my bag while the others just stared.

“Why the rush, we haven’t even gotten our food yet?” Odessa said. I looked down at her and thought.

“It's y/n. Why didn’t you answer my phone when it rang… twice?” I questioned. She just smirked and shrugged with a sense of guilt. “You know what, it doesn’t matter now. Right now I have to go catch the first flight out to LA before my daughter is born. Bye, thank you for coming, enjoy the city” I tried to get out as I maneuvered my way out of the restaurant.

As soon as i got to my apartment, i booked the first flight out not even realizing I had an hour to catch it. I grabbed all of my “necessities” and booked it out to my uber.

Regular POV

You sat in the small hospital room, strapped up to monitors, and bump out. The doctors had taken the oxygen and gave you something to relieve the stress and calm you down.

“Mamaaaa” you whined out to your mother who was walking back in from her phone call.

“What's up sweetheart?” your mother asked, joining you by your side.

“Where’s drew? Did you get a hold of him?” you said.

“Yes, he is on his way. Don’t worry, I already tore him a new one so don’t stress about yelling at him.” She smiled back at you. You held her hand and had a moment of comfort before a doctor came in.

“Hello hello. I am Dr. Hoffman” the white-coated gentleman introduced himself with a welcoming hand. He proceeded to examine you until speaking up again. “So your scans and blood came back good so nothing too wrong but you are in labor. Baby is in a good position but you are only 2 cm dilated. I’m going to admit you through until you are ready and then we can get this baby out. We will have someone to move you up to our maternity unit and get you more privacy.” Hoffman finished and walked out.

You began to cry, from the pain and the fact that you’re all alone. You have to endure this for however long it takes your body to dilate another 8 cm. Though you were way too emotional from all of that, you knew to not get too worked up because of the stress it would topple onto the pile that your body was already under.

Drew’s POV

Hours have passed and my flight was done. Those 13 hours were horrible. A middle seat between a woman with a crying baby and a guy that slept the whole time. I know it was last minute and all but I feel that the baby was a sign. The worst flight of my life was because of something that I was going into myself, parenthood. You could say it was karma too for not answer my phone. I know how y/n feels about Odessa and sometimes I feel that Odessa’s jealous of me and y/n but I still keep her around. I was pissed at her last night for getting completely obliterated and interrupting y/n and I but I let it go but this afternoon was something else. I felt somewhere deep down she did it purposely. Because of her I could’ve missed the birth of my child and left y/n all by herself. I still could do that because of how late I am.

As soon as I got off that plane, I ran though LAX and outside to get an Uber. I’m running on no sleep, jet lag, and the stress of becoming a parent at any moment. Anyone who gets in my way or even near to delaying me any more would get no mercy.

“LA General and step on it please, I’m about to have a baby” I sort of demanded as I stepped into the Uber. The driver looked at me with sympathy and did as he was told. Hopefully I can make it, time is slipping away.

Regular POV

“Fuuuck!” You screamed out as you reached the end of the hallway. The doctors had you walking for the last 11 hours to get you to 10 cm. What they didn’t do is give you any meds that you felt were working. The contractions were now 2 minutes apart and you felt like this baby was about to fall out of your vagina. You stood crouched in the corner with your mom’s hand in yours. Danica had to leave due to not being immediate family and drew was still no where to be seen.

“Sweetheart… it’s ok, just keeping breathing. I will go get the doctor” your mother reassured as she left you there basically dry heaving from the pain induced nausea. Seconds later you were brought back to your room.

“Guess what mama, you’re about to have your baby. You’re at 9cm which means we can start pushing” your labor and deliver nurse said with a smile. You smiled through your pain but it wasn’t all there. You still didn’t have drew by your side and the baby was a bit to be born.

Minutes later you were all set up and getting ready to push. You did it without an epidural too because it had worn off and it was too late for them to administer another.

“Ready y/n, on three I want you to push with all your strength.” The OB said. You looked at your mom, squeezed her hand and nodded. “1….2…3 push!” You screamed a wide push out. She had you continue. The pain so bad you thought you could have passed out.

When you swore that you were about to black out completely, a larger hand took yours. Slightly callused yet soft. A hand you could know from anywhere. You opened your eyes and were met with Drew’s.

“I told you I would miss this.” Drew said softly tearing up slightly with a smile. You smiled back and held on to his hand tightly.

You let a couple more pushes out and then all you heard were the soft cries of your babygirl.

“It’s a girl! Congratulations mom and dad, she’s gorgeous” the OB said with a smile. The baby was brought to your chest and you and drew took in this moment together. Kissing each other for the first time in weeks with your baby. You both cried so hard, but they were all happy tears. So happy that you had forgave Drew’s late behavior.

“I love you so much” drew said smiling at you. You didn’t say anything, all you did was kiss him.

It had been a couple hours since the baby was born. You were sleeping as drew sat with the baby. You woke up turning to face him. He was sitting there in awe staring at the mini you, rocking back and forth. You knew that he was more in love with her than he would ever be with you and that made you the happiest you had ever been. As you sat up completely, he noticed bringing the newborn towards you. The three of you were together until your mother had walked in with Danica.

“ hello hello hello! My little girl with her little girl” she said coming towards you. She be at done to kiss your cheek.

“Soooo, what is the little bug’s name?” Danica asked looking back and forth between you and drew. You looked at drew, nodding him off to let him say the honors.

“Well… we would like you to meet Isabel Eva Starkey” drew said with the biggest smile. Danica and your mother cried happy tears as they came and hugged you both.

As your stay lasted for the next few days, you welcomed friends and family from both side. You were content now. You had your own little family now and to have drew be apart of that was all you needed.

The End

A/N: I’m so sorry this came out late. I’ve been so swamped with work and genuinely mentally drained. This may not be good because it all just came to me at once and I struggled to organize it. Hopefully you like it and thank you for reading!!!

Tagged: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @one-sweet-gubler @runningfrom2am @ayoanna @crazyf0robx @brooklynscherry-z @ireadficsthenifallasleep @simpfomarvel @willowalexissss

[loveforeren]

✿Never say never ✿ Tengen x reader

Summary ➳❥ You and Tengen just got into a fight with upper moon 3 and fortunately made it out with sustainable and treatable injuries. You guys stay at a mansion for the night when Tengen decides he wants to have sex now of all times.

Content Warning ➳❥ Oral Sex, Fem reader, mentions of character's death, mentions of poly relationships, oh idk sex.

As Tengen and you walked through the dark forest on your mission, you couldn't help but sigh in frustration. Tengen had never been serious when it came to missions, and it worried you. Suddenly, he started giggling, and you turned to face him, curious about what was amusing him.

"What's so funny, Tengen?" You asked, my voice tinged with annoyance. He giggled again, reaching out to pull a leaf out of your hair. You cursed under my breath, trying to remind him of the seriousness of your task. "Tengen, please, we need to focus until we complete this mission."

He rolled his eyes and responded, "Where's the fun in that?" His carefree attitude frustrated you, but you knew there was no use arguing with him at that moment. You knew just how stubborn he could be after all you were his fourth wife.

Eventually, you reached the village, and you immediately sensed something ominous approaching. Instinctively, you stopped in your tracks and placed your hand on the hilt of your katana. "Tengen," you called out, your voice filled with urgency. Tengen noticed your tense stance and prepared himself. "What is it, Y/N?" he asked, sensing the gravity of the situation.

"It's approaching, Tengen. Be ready," you warned him. Just as the words left your lips, someone or rather something crashed in front of you and Tengen, sending dust and dirt flying through the air. It was Akaza, the Third Upper Moon. You looked at him with a mixture of shock and disgust. "You... you killed Rengoku," you said, your voice filled with anger. Rengoku had been a dear friend to both you and Tengen. Standing beside Tengen, you guys prepared ourselves to fight.

You charged at Akaza, aiming to strike him down immediately, but he effortlessly dodged my attacks. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he taunted, his voice laced with arrogance. Undeterred, You attacked again, but once again, he evaded my blows. I heard him mumbling under his breath, about how he couldn't hurt a woman. Anger surged within you thinking he was belittling you for being a woman, and I retorted, "Too afraid to fight a woman?" Your voice dripped with condescension.

His infuriated gaze met yours, and in the next moment, Tengen charged at Akaza. Akaza redirected his attention, delivering a powerful blow that sent Tengen flying back, crashing into a tree. Shocked, you screamed Tengen's name and rushed to his side, checking the severity of his injuries. When you turned around, Akaza had disappeared. You cursed under your breath, your frustration mounting as you tried to help Tengen up. "Damn it, Tengen!" you muttered, worried about his well-being. He chuckled, dismissing the pain. "That's not funny, you dumbass!" you scolded, smacking him on the arm in anger. "Ow!" Tengen exclaimed, his pain momentarily distracting us from the immediate danger. I sighed and assisted him as we made our way to a nearby mansion we had passed earlier, taking care not to exert him further due to his bleeding wounds.

Finally, you guys reached the front of the mansion, and you let out a relieved sigh. "Tengen, can you hold on a little longer?" You asked, concern evident in my voice. He grunted in exhaustion but nodded. As you stood there, you felt something touch your butt and immediately turned to Tengen, shooting him a glare. "I see you're feeling well enough to touch my ass," you scolded. He let out a slight chuckle before coughing up blood, reminding me of the seriousness of the situation. You knock on the door of the mansion, and an elderly man comes out. He looks up at you and Tengen. "Hello?" He looks at you guys confused. "Hi, sir. I was wondering if we could stay the night here. My husband is hurt, and I really need someone to patch him up. He's bleeding." The old man smiles and says, "Of course, dear. Come right in. Let me have my son help you carry your husband" The man called for his son, who helped Tengen to a room where the old man attended to Tengen's wounds. "Thanks, Gramps," Tengen said, chuckling. You sighed, "Tengen, please be respectful." He smiled, and the old man laughed. "You guys are a lively couple. I'll leave you two to rest now." You smiled, "Thank you, sir." He smiled once more before leaving and shutting the door quickly.

You lay down next to Tengen, facing him, and he smiled, kissing you softly and peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled, finally able to relax. "Tengen," you smiled. "You're so pretty," he said, staring at you intensely. You smiled, "Thank you, Tengen." He kissed you again, but this time it was a heated one as he climbed on top of you. You try to contain your moans. "Tengen...we can't do this here, please...I can't. We can't. This is someone else's house." Tengen practically whined, "Baby, please...I need you." You sighed, nodding quietly, and that's all it took.

Tengen ripped open your shirt, planting kisses on your chest and neck while leaving marks along the way. You covered your mouth, not wanting to be loud. "Tengen," you mumbled his name under your hand. He trailed down your chest, eventually reaching your lower stomach area. He slowly pulled down your pants and gazed between your thighs with a smile. "All I did was kiss you, and you're this wet, Y/N?" You looked at him slightly dazed and then looked to the side out of embarrassment.

He slid his fingers between your slick folds with a look of delight on his face before lowering his head and latching onto your clit quickly. You practically yelped, "Tengen!" You squirmed slightly as Tengen ran his tongue between your folds. You squirmed, grabbing his hair. "Tengen...Tengen, slow down, slow down. I'm going to..." You could barely finish your sentence before he sped up intentionally and once again latched himself onto your clit.

After a few more seconds of squirming and Tengen holding you down by your thighs, you whined quietly, "Tengen, I'm going to cum...please, please slow down...mm." You managed to squeak out before releasing. Tengen continued swallowing it all, not leaving a drip before lifting up and smiling at you with your warm fluids running down his face. "Tengen..." you sighed, trying to catch your breath as you wiped his face.

"Nuh uh, not done yet, love. Could you please turn over for me, ass up?" You quietly obliged, feeling Tengen's eyes on you as you did. Once you were in position, you felt Tengen's hand hit your ass, and you yelped, feeling a sting. "My pretty...pretty girl," he said. This time you felt his large member rubbing over your hole gently. "Tengen, please...give it to me, please." He chuckled, slamming into you with no hesitation. It took everything in your power to stop yourself from screaming.

"Good girl, you took it all, hmm," Tengen said, leaving another smack to your ass. You bit the pillow to keep yourself from making any noise. Tengen started going in and out of you slowly. You could feel every inch of his length moving inside you. You groaned into the pillow as he sped up. Tengen continued thrusting in and out of you, gradually increasing his pace. You could feel every inch of his length moving within you, and you groaned into the pillow as he picked up speed. "You feel so good, baby," he exclaimed, gripping your waist tightly. Suddenly, he found your sweet spot, and you gasped, opening your mouth. "Ah~ found it, pretty girl. Is this your sweet spot?" You didn't answer, only groaning again. He chuckled, intentionally hitting the same spot, and you tried to be quiet, despite the overwhelming pleasure. You were practically screaming, begging Tengen for more as you tightened around him. "Y/N, I'm going to cum," Tengen said, his movements becoming sloppy. He groaned as he released inside you, feeling his warm fluids filling you up. Tengen pulled out slowly and collapsed beside you, exhausted.

"I... should... kill you, Tengen," you said, trying to catch your breath. "What if that old man or his son heard?" Tengen shrugged, wrapping his arms around you. "We'll cross that road when we get to it," he said, before stopping abruptly and groaning in pain. You turned to see that he was bleeding again. "Shit, Tengen, you're bleeding again." Luckily, the old man had left all the first aid supplies in the room, so you quickly patched Tengen up, and then you both laid back down. "Tengen, we're never doing that again," you declared. Tengen chuckled, "Never say never, Y/N!

☆ Masterlist ☆

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 9 - I made a mistake

Satoru fucked up, he knows it. He knows it, but there’s no way to take it back, and that might just be the worst part about it.

He’s in dire need of some advice, so he barges into Shoko’s room, absolutely frantic to get some help.

“Shoko, I need your help,” he rushes out and Shoko only throws him a lazy look, clearly not convinced of the urgency of the situation.

“I’m not here to help you manage your social life,” she eventually says and Satoru frowns, momentarily forgetting his own very real, very serious problem.

“How do you know it’s that? I could be actively dying.”

“You have a voice for that.”

“A voice.”

“A very Shoko-I-somehow-got-my-arm-unattached-from-my-body-and-now-I-need-help-voice. This is not that. This is your Shoko-I-socially-fucked-up-voice. And with that I cannot help.”

“That’s—uncalled for, actually,” Satoru mutters before he gravity of the situation slams into him all over again. “But please, Shoko, I really do need your help.”

“You’re not going to leave without at least telling me about whatever you fucked up, are you?” she asks, clearly already somewhat resigned to her fate and she only sighs when Satoru shakes his head.

“Nope,” he still says for good measure, just so she knows just how serious this is and finally Shoko gives him her full attention.

“Okay, hit me with it, then,” she says and Satoru takes a deep breath.

“I may have implied to my family that Suguru is my boyfriend,” Satoru rushes out, in case Shoko changes her mind again and because it’s actually painful to admit that and immediately Shoko’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, damn,” she whispers. “You really fucked up.”

“I did,” Satoru cries out and buries his face in his hands. “Fuck, I fucked up so badly. How am I ever going to explain that to him in a way that doesn’t make him lose it?” he desperately asks and he doesn’t even need to look up to know that Shoko is wincing.

“I’m not sure that there’s a way,” she carefully says and Satoru almost sobs at that.

He knows that this is bad, that Suguru is probably going to hate him for it and he has no goddamn clue how he’s every going to fix it.

“What if I just don’t tell him?” he tries and Shoko hits him over the head for it.

“You know that your family is going to approach him if they think you’re together. Things are not quite that easy for you prominent clan members,” she reminds him as if Satoru could really have forgotten that.

“I know,” he whines out because it doesn’t help with his problem at all. “He’s going to cut me out of his life, I just know it. And then I’ll have lost him and I’ll have to tell my family that we broke up and I’m not going to survive it.”

“Oh, Satoru,” Shoko helplessly says, because what else is there to say, really.

Satoru is right after all.

Suguru is going to blow a fuse, he’s going to be incredibly mad at Satoru and then he won’t want anything to do with him anymore and just like that Satoru will have lost his one and only and all because he’s stupid and can’t function properly when he talks to his mother.

Fuck.

“Maybe he won’t take it so badly?” Shoko suggests and now that makes Satoru snort out a desperate laugh.

“Yeah, right. That seems likely with how vehemently he has always protested any kind of notion in that direction,” he gives back because people have mistaken them for a couple several times already and every time it was brought up, Suguru almost exploded with anger and he always rushes to set things straight: we’re not together, how dare you even suggest that, never say something like that again.

Satoru always found his reaction a little bit over the top, especially since he didn’t mind it at all and what does it even matter if some strangers think they are together, but Suguru was always quick to shut such suggestions down.

It made it more than clear that he’d never see Satoru in that light, that he’d never want a relationship, no matter how much Satoru wished for it and to fuck up like this now is probably going to cost him Suguru entirely.

Satoru just wants to hide himself away for the rest of his life, hoping that like this he doesn’t have to see Suguru be furious with him for a change.

“What are you going to do?” Shoko asks and Satoru deflates where he stands.

She’s right when she says that his clan will most likely contact Suguru somehow so there’s not really much he can do.

“I’ll have to tell him,” Satoru whispers and Shoko hums.

“That sucks,” she says and that’s the understatement of the year. “I know it’s not much but you can come here to get smashed afterwards if you want,” she then offers and Satoru knows how jealously she hoards her alcohol so for her to offer this, he must really be in deep shit.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mutters and turns back around to the door. “I’ll go destroy the best thing in my life now, then,” he adds on and while it sounds overdramatic, that is exactly how it feels to him.

But there’s no way around it—he already knew that before he came to Shoko—and he just has to be a big boy and get it over with.

He makes his way over to Suguru’s room, dragging his feet a bit, but he still arrives at his door sooner than he’d like.

Satoru takes one deep breath before he knocks and then he shuffles unsurely around as he waits for Suguru’s call.

Instead of doing that, Suguru comes to the door himself, and Satoru flinches.

“Satoru? What’s wrong?” Suguru asks and of course something must be wrong because Satoru normally never knocks. He never needed to, he was always welcome to barge right in, but he knows that he’s going to lose that privilege as soon as he tells Suguru what’s going on, so he better starts behaving accordingly as soon as he can.

“Can I come in?” Satoru asks and Suguru’s face clouds over with worry.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks and then reaches out to take Satoru’s temperature. “Are you sick?”

“No. Suguru, can I come in?” he asks again and cherishes the way Suguru’s name feels in his mouth.

He’ll probably have to refer to him as Geto once this is all over and that alone is almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“You’re freaking me out,” Suguru says but he does step aside to let Satoru in.

“Sorry, I just—there’s something I have to tell you,” Satoru mutters and he can tell that his words do nothing to alleviate Suguru’s worries.

“Okay, spit it out then,” Suguru says once the door is closed behind Satoru and Satoru wrings his hands in front of his chest.

“I just want to start this off with the fact that I didn’t really mean to and I’m really very sorry. If that helps at all.”

“It would, maybe, if you could tell me just what exactly it is you did,” Suguru gives back and Satoru knows that there’s no way around this, that he has to come clean about this and yet he still stalls for a few more precious seconds.

A few seconds more where Suguru doesn’t hate him yet and Satoru hoards them as greedily as he can.

“I made a mistake,” he finally starts with and Suguru frowns.

“Okay. What kind of mistake?” he asks and Satoru starts to pace in his room.

“My mother called me today, and you know how talking with her always gets me,” he explains and Suguru nods, because it’s not news to him that talking to anyone from his family fucks Satoru a little bit up every time. “And she keeps pestering me about finding someone to settle down with and to preferably start producing heirs as soon as possible.”

“You’re not even eighteen yet,” Suguru interjects and Satoru shrugs, because that really has never mattered to his family.

If it were up to them he would probably already be a father, preferably a few times over, just in case they can have more overpowered Gojo’s.

“Not the point,” Satoru mutters.

“What is the point then?”

“The point is that I may have panicked?” he asks and then falls silent again, unable to find the words.

“And done what? Satoru, seriously, do I have to pull every word out of you?” Suguru wants to know, clearly getting impatient now and Satoru takes a deep breath before he finally spills it all.

“I may have blurted out that I’m already seeing someone, but that I wasn’t ready to tell them yet, just so she would get off my back, but of course she didn’t and instead pestered me to know who it was and her guesses were getting increasingly disturbing so I eventually just blurted out that I’m seeing you.”

He doesn’t dare to look at Suguru, doesn’t want to know what kind of face he’s making at hearing that and he’s sure that the yelling is going to start any moment now.

Instead Suguru stays quiet. Eerily so.

“Suguru?” Satoru finally asks and when he looks at Suguru he’s not prepared for the crestfallen look he sees on his face.

“Why would you do that?” Suguru asks, his voice barely above a whisper and he looks so hurt that Satoru feels like the scum of the earth, knowing he was the one to put that look on his face.

He would have preferred anger, he thinks.

“I just—I panicked. I didn’t think.”

“How is that the first thing you can come up with, though? Shoko is right there. Why did it have to be me?”

“Maybe—” Satoru starts and then decides to fuck it. Suguru is going to hate him one way or another, so it’s probably best to put it all out there. “Maybe because it was the first thing I thought of.”

“But why?” Suguru demands to know again and Satoru locks his eyes with.

“Because it’s something I wish was true, so I couldn’t think of anything—anyone—else,” he admits and then waits for the unavoidable anger that’s sure to follow his words.

“You—want me to be your boyfriend?” Suguru mutters and Satoru shrugs.

“Yeah. I have, for a long time. I know how you feel about that, though, so I get it. I know you must be mad, I know you must be disgusted. And I wish I could change it, I wish I could take it all back, but things with my family are not quite that easy and they are not going to ignore this. I expect them to contact you some time this week, so I thought it’s best to warn you before that.”

“Wait, hold on, stop,” Suguru rushes out and holds up his hands as if that could force Satoru’s words to a stop. “What do you mean, you’ve felt that way for a long time?”

“Just that. I’ve been in love with you for months now, Suguru. What else do you want me to say?”

“But you never said anything!”

“Right,” Satoru lets out a bitter laugh. “You think I am that eager to get rejected? I know how you feel about that, I’ve seen the way you react to people assuming this about us, so I always knew I had no chance at all. But I didn’t think with my mother, and now it’s all fucked up.”

“How I feel about that?”

“Suguru, please, can we just skip ahead to the point where you yell at me and tell me to get out and never come back? I can’t do this,” Satoru begs him, because he’s not a fan of dragging the inevitable out like this but he was not prepared for the way Suguru steps forward and takes his hands in his.

“Satoru, I love you,” Suguru says and it’s so out of left field that Satoru doesn’t even understand what’s happening.

“You’re mad at me,” he gives back and watches how Suguru shakes his head, his hair flying.

“I’m not, gods, I’m not! Satoru, I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“But you—that can’t be, you always yelled at people who assumed things about us,” Satoru mutters out, because he wasn’t imagining that. “Even Shoko knows that you’re going to kick me out of your life for this, that’s how much you hate the notion of a romantic relationship with me.”

“Fuck, that’s so not true,” Suguru rushes out. “I’m sorry it came across like that! It’s just—whenever people assumed that I was so hurt because it wasn’t true and there was no way in hell that you’d ever feel that way about me, so I got defensive.”

“What do you mean, I’d never feel that way?”

“I just mean—what would you ever see in me?” Suguru asks and squeezes Satoru’s hands. “I thought I had no chance. I’m not from a big clan, I am nothing special, so why would you ever feel that way about me?”

“Because you’re Suguru,” Satoru gives back as if that explains everything and to him it does.

Suguru is Suguru and that’s why Satoru loves him.

“I didn’t know,” Suguru mutters and rests their foreheads together. “Satoru, I didn’t know. I never would have expected this.”

“So—you’re not mad,” Satoru has to say, because it still makes little sense to him what is happening.

“I’m not mad. I’m overjoyed. I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Really?” Satoru has to ask to make sure.

“Really,” Suguru immediately gives back. “I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”

“It’s not as if I ever said anything to make you think you have a chance, apparently,” Satoru replies even though he wonders how that can be, but maybe that’s a conversation for a later point.

“But I know better now,” Suguru says and tilts his head to brush a kiss over Satoru’s lips. “Boyfriend.”

The word makes Satoru all tingly and he can’t help the big smile that breaks out on his face.

“Boyfriend,” he agrees and dives right in for a real kiss. “I like how that sounds.”

“Me, too,” Suguru admits and when he pulls Satoru in for a bone-crushing hug, he goes easily.

They stay like that for a long time and even though Satoru knows that there will have to be at least one more conversation to be held about this—at least about the expectations his clan will have for Suguru—he thinks that all of that can wait because there’s no power out there that could make him pull away from Suguru at that moment.

Or ever again, but he thinks it might be a little bit too soon to admit that as well. Small steps, he thinks, and buries his face in the crook of Suguru’s neck. He already has what he wants in his arms after all. Everything else can come later.

[rainbowfey]

28 Written but never sent

@flufftober

For a few weeks now, Shinobu had felt like something was missing but she could not put her finger on what exactly was off. It was in the middle of treating her last patient for the day that she suddenly realized what it was. Her head shot up and the patient winced in surprise, looking up at her with big eyes. “Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding a bit scared.

Shinobu quickly turned her focus back on what she was doing and gave him a reassuring smile. “No, don’t worry,” she said calmly. “Your wound is healing really well, you’ll be better in no time.”

That seemed to soothe the demon slayer’s concerns and he relaxed again, allowing Shinobu to finish her examination without further hiccups. And when she was done, he even bowed as far as that was possible when laying in bed, making her smile again.

Shinobu took off her scrubs and threw them away while leaving the room. She looked along the hallway, hoping to see Aoi scurrying around but unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen. With a feeling of urgency, Shinobu quickly searched the rooms until she finally found Aoi in the room where they stored the medicine for their patients. She sighed in relief when she spotted Aoi in a corner, preparing healing herbs.

“Aoi,” she said a bit more loudly that she had planned on, making Aoi jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just … I have to leave for a while. Do you think you and the girls can handle the patients on your own for one or two days?”

Aoi carefully set down the herbs and gave Shinobu a worried look while nodding. “Of course. Are you okay, Shinobu? Did something happen?”

Shinobu paused. She had not thought that her behavior was unusual enough to catch Aoi’s attention. She was about to put her off when she saw the genuine concern in Aoi’s eyes, making her change her mind. “I … I don’t know,” she said slowly, trying to make sense of her inner turmoil, “I have to check on someone. I just want to make sure they’re okay.”

For a moment, it looked like Aoi wanted to ask her who she was talking about. But then she just nodded and gently said, “Take your time. We’ll be fine for a few days, it’s been rather slow anyways.”

Shinobu smiled at her gratefully, her mind calming a bit. With Aoi in charge, she knew that she could safely leave for a few days which took an edge off her uncertainty. At least, this way she did not have to worry about her patients.

When she had said goodbye to Aoi, she quickly hurried to her room and packed a few things, just enough so that she would not have any trouble staying away for a few days. Then, she hurried towards the entrance hall of the butterfly mansion, hoping that nobody would try to flag her down on her way out. And to her luck, she managed to dodge everyone else, making it to the door and out of the mansion without engaging in any conversation.

Outside, Shinobu turned left without hesitation, her feet leading her along the path already even before she had set her mind on it. Now that she was on her way, she finally had the time to think about her realization and notice her feelings at it swirling through her body. For weeks, she had felt increasingly off, asking herself late at night what caused this feeling of unease. And when she had looked at the claw mark on the injured demon slayer’s arm, she had remembered the last time she had treated a wound like this. And when the image of a familiar face had popped up in her mind, all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

“Giyuu,” Shinobu muttered to herself, her feet flying along the path. While Giyuu certainly did not show up at the butterfly mansion very regularly, he never let more than one or two weeks pass before visiting Shinobu again, usually with a more than flimsy excuse for doing so. But for more than a month, he had not come to the butterfly mansion. And while at first, Shinobu had not even noticed his absence, her unease had grown with each passing week without any sign of him. And when she had seen the wound that looked uncannily like Giyuu’s wound she had treated three months ago, the realization of his absence had come upon on her, shaking her to her core.

Shinobu quickened her pace until she was almost running. While she could not explain to herself why she felt this urgency, something deep within her unrelentingly pushed her to Giyuu’s mansion, hoping that she would find him there. He probably had very mundane reasons for not showing his face at the butterfly mansion for quite some time. But somewhere in a dark corner of Shinobu’s mind, a small voice whispered, ‘What if something happened to him?’. And even though Shinobu did not want to admit that thought to herself, she increased her speed until it almost felt like she was flying.

When Giyuu’s mansion appeared on the horizon, Shinobu’s heart started fluttering even more. She had thought she would calm down as soon as she reached it, but the opposite happened when she hastened towards the door. When she reached it, she had to take a moment to regain her composure before she knocked three times. And when she heard steps coming closer and the door slowly started to open, her heart sank in relief.

“Kochou-san,” a woman said, her eyes widening in surprise. “We did not expect you today. How can I help you?”

Shinobu’s shoulders sank down when she forced herself to smile at the young Kakushi. Her thoughts had been so fixed on Giyuu that she had not anticipated an attendant to answer the door. “I’d like to speak with Tomioka-san,” she said politely.

The Kakushi’s eyes took on a sympathetic expression when she bowed. “I am sorry, but Tomioka-sama is not here currently. Would you like to come in and wait for him?”

Shinobu nodded and followed the attendant as she led her into the mansion, offering Shinobu something to drink and eat while she waited. Shinobu politely declined as she was sure that she was not able to stomach anything right now. At least the attendant did not seem overly concerned about Giyuu and if he had gotten hurt or was missing, the Kakushi surely would have told her about it.

When she left the room, Shinobu sank down on a chair, her heart still beating faster than it should have. While her heartbeat slowly calmed down, she looked around and noticed that the room seemed to be an office of sorts which she had not expected. She could not imagine Giyuu sitting at a desk doing paperwork. Then, however, her gaze fell on the rows upon rows of bookshelves lining the walls and a smile formed on her face. Giyuu spending whole days holed up in here reading was a thought that did seem very fitting. And since she loved books as well, she felt their presence slowly calming her down until she did not feel like she would explode at any moment anymore.

After a while, Shinobu could not sit still any longer. Instead, she got up and started exploring Giyuu’s bookshelves, curiously reading the titles and once in a while even gently pulling a book out of the shelf and flicking through its pages. When she had worked her way to the other side of the room, her gaze fell on the desk standing only a few steps away. Her eyes lit up when she saw another pile of books towering on the desk. Shinobu hesitated for a moment and silently asked herself whether Giyuu would mind her taking a closer look at those books. And even though she was not entirely sure, she could not pass up on the chance of finding out which books Giyuu currently liked the most.

Feeling like a sneaky rogue, Shinobu slid into the chair and curiously started looking at the first book. One by one, she examined the books until she reached the last one in the pile. Mesmerized by its beautiful binding and the golden letters glistening on its back, Shinobu carefully pulled the book closer. And while she touched it, her hand grazed something uneven.

Curious, Shinobu turned the book to the side and noticed one page that seemed to stick out further than the other ones. Before she could stop herself, she opened the book, intending to fix the page. But when she found it, she realized that it was not a page slightly torn but rather a piece of paper that was covered in an elegant handwriting. Intrigued by the beautifully written letters, Shinobu looked at the first line – and froze when she read the words ‘Dear Shinobu’.

When Shinobu reached the door, she heard the attendant behind her, calling out to her. And even though she knew it would seem impolite, Shinobu did not stop and quickly shouted back, “Thank you for your effort. I’ll be on my way now.”

And before the attendant had the chance to say anything else, Shinobu left the mansion and headed for the forest. Now that she knew where she had to go, her heart started beating faster again, fluttering at the thought of what she had read and what expected her at the clearing she was heading for. She had not even known of this secret place that was special to him and even though she knew the letter had not been meant for her eyes to see, she was grateful that it had given her an idea of where to find Giyuu.

It took her some effort to find the narrow path to the clearing and she had to slow down in order to not miss it which made her body tense up with impatience. When she finally spotted it between two particularly massive trees, she sighed in relief and hastily followed the path leading her into the heart of the forest. Her teeth gritted, she made her way through bushes and thickets and just when she thought this trail would never end, she reached the clearing.

Shinobu slowed down and suddenly, the fire burning in her chest driving her forward turned into a single, tiny flicker. Her hands felt cold when she reluctantly stepped out of the forest and onto the clearing. Her gaze fixed on the silhouette sitting at the other end of the clearing, their hands absentmindedly plucking blades of grass to pieces, she slowly walked closer.

And when Shinobu had almost reached him, she plucked up her courage and softly asked, “Giyuu?”

Giyuu’s head shot up and his eyes went wide as saucers as he quickly struggled to his feet. “Shinobu?” he gasped. “How did you … what are you doing here?”

Shinobu felt her cheeks starting to blush when she looked down at the ground, trying to find the right words. Her heart still ached when she thought about what Giyuu had written in this letter that he had never sent to her. Her shoulders sank down and without being able to stop herself from doing so, she quietly said, “I am sorry.”

For a moment, silence engulfed them. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look up, only to be met with a bewildered, almost scared look out of blue eyes. “What for?” Giyuu asked.

Shinobu sighed and straightened her shoulders. “I would like to apologize for what I said to you. For the jokes I made. I didn’t realize that I hurt you with them.”

Giyuu’s face grew pale and when he took a step back, Shinobu’s heart fluttered in her chest. “I never wanted you to think you were be a bother,” she quickly said and fought against the lump forming in her throat. “And I would be very sad if you stopped coming by every now and then.”

Giyuu blinked rapidly and for a moment, it almost looked like his legs would give in. “How do you know …?” he asked weakly.

And with the feeling of jumping off a cliff, Shinobu braced herself and said, “I found the letter.”

Giyuu’s face went white as a sheet and Shinobu noticed his hands starting to tremble. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he squeezed out. “I shouldn’t have written it, I should’ve just thrown it away.”

Shinobu quickly shook her head and took a step towards him. She reached for him but when she saw the anguish in his eyes, she paused and her hand sank down again. “I’m so sorry, Giyuu,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snoop. But when I read it, I just had to find you and tell you …”

Her voice trailed off and she struggled for words. Giyuu stood frozen in place, looking at her with wide eyes. And when Shinobu met his gaze, her heart ached and she took a deep breath. With two quick steps, she closed the distance between them and gently reached for Giyuu’s hand. He winced and stared down at their hands but he did not pull away. Instead, his face took on such a vulnerable expression that Shinobu’s heart melted.

And suddenly, she had the courage to say what was on her mind. “And tell you,” she continued, her voice quivering ever so slightly, “that every time I see you, the world seems lighter and more vibrant. That your smile means the world to me and that I don’t want to go without it … and without you.”

The forest turned still when Giyuu looked at her. Shinobu held her breath, bracing herself for him pulling back, her chest tightening at the thought. And then she felt Giyuu’s hand slowly closing around hers. Careful, almost timid, he intertwined his fingers with hers, never averting his gaze.

And when he spoke, his voice was so soft that she almost did not hear him. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Shinobu smiled and came even closer, looking up at him. “It means exactly what you think it does,” she whispered when she closed the distance between them.

And the last thing she saw before closing her eyes was Giyuu’s face softening, a tender smile forming on his lips. Then, all she felt was his warmth and his arm gently wrapping around her.

[hardcandycigarette]

Long Way Down Final-Part Five

Okay here it is. The Fifth and Final Part of a Long Way Down.

Warning- Language, discussions of suicide and depression.

Those triggers are not a major part of the story as far as the details but I do want you to know ahead of time if those subjects would cause you distress.

And you guys are getting all, the feels, the angst, and dad!rry as well as a few unexpected things

Aside from that I hope it meets your expectations.

Word Count 6.5K

While trying to process the words, Harry chokes back tears and feels his heart race. When the news finally registers that Y/N is safe and the search is over he leaps off the sofa and races down the hall. Relief pumps through every part of him as he runs toward the guest room. He's been so afraid of never seeing Y/N again. But now, she's coming home and his heart overflows with happiness. He knows that nothing could ever replace the love he feels for his Y/N - his prayers have been answered

Harry's shouts startle Liam as he crashes through the door. "They found her. They fuckin' found her." he yells as tears stream down his face.

Liam shakes his head and rubs his eyes as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Wha's that?” Liam asks in confusion, trying to make sense of the news. Suddenly, he realizes that they have found Y/N. He is both surprised and relieved. "They found her? Is she okay? Where is she?" He is happy to abandon his much needed nap when he hears the happy report.

“She’s in some small village in Scotland. They said she’s fine. I think she’s fine. I dunno, but we gotta go. Y/N's mum can stay here with the kids. We gotta go. Up. What ya’ just sitti’ there for? We need to hurry and get her."

"Let's go get out girl." Liam stands and slips on the jeans draped over the end of the bed. He walks over to the corner and picks up a sweatshirt from the floor and puts it on. “Well, what are you standing there for? Let's go. I'm ready."

Just as Harry steps into the hall, the door to the next room opens. "What's the matter, love? What's wrong?" Y/N's mother asks.

“They’ve found ‘er," he says.

“Oh please tell me she’s ok.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before finally giving her the news. "She's alive," he says with relief. Harry nods and smiles. "She is. Well, that's what the detective told me."

“Thank God,” she says. She releases a long, deep sigh of relief, feeling the weight lifted off her shoulders.

“You’ll need to stay here with the kids. Liam and I are heading to get her.”

“Where is she?” she asks.

“Lil village in Scotland.”

“Scotland? What on earth for?” she asks.

Harry shrugs and dashes toward the stairs. "I've told ya all I know. We'll call you when we get there. Can you please talk to the kids when they get up from their naps? It'll just delay us if I wake them up now."

She nods, wiping away tears. "Yes, of course. Please hurry. Tell her I love her."

"'m callin' Jeff to get a plane ready," Harry calls out as he runs down the hall, and up the stairs. Once on the second floor he darts into the couple's bedroom. He grabs his phone and hits Jeff's contact. He demands they get a plane ready ASAP, so they can fly to Y/N.

As he speaks to Jeff he shoves on his sneakers, clips back his bangs, and brushes his teeth- all in a matter of a few minutes. As he scans the room, he wonders what Y/N might need. It appears from his discussion with the detective that she had all of her belongings with her. He says to himself, "You got me 100% from now on, baby." After emptying his Pleasing tote of its usual 40 tons of stuff he grabs some clothes, his keys, wallet and other essentials tossing it all in the bag as he heads down to the living room.

When he arrives downstairs, Liam is waiting for him. "I've called for a car. They should be here soon. Good thing everyone was on standby, otherwise this could've been a logistical nightmare," Liam says, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

"No it wouldn't. Would've driven us m'self if I'd had to. Oh, Liam, man I've never felt better in m' life. Y/N's comin' home. 'm gonna love her like no man has ever loved a woman. She's gonna get sick of me I swear it." His anticipation causes him to jump up and down with excitement. His smile is wider than Liam has ever seen it.

###

Harry is so frantic to get to Y/N that he nearly shatters the glass of the sliding doors as he runs into the hospital. He is desperate to find his wife and unable to wait for the elevator to arrive he rushes up the stairs. As sweat dampens his forehead and an intense sense of urgency propels him forward.When he reaches the second floor he pulls the door open with force.

"I'm sorry sir this floor is closed. You'll have to take the elevator to the next floor," a police officer says to him.

"No, it's ok. She's m' wife the woman you all are protecting. Y/N Styles, she's m' wife." He repeats with growing resolution, "Y/N Styles is my wife and Detective Reeves knows I'm here."

Before Harry can proceed, Detective Reeves approaches him. "It's alright, he's the husband."

Harry stands tall and speaks firmly, "Yes, I've come to take her home."

The two officers nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright, thanks for looking after her," Harry says.

"You can come this way, Mr. Styles." Reeves walks down a desolate hallway."Let's step into the waiting area," he says.

"Where is she? Wanna see Y/N. You said she's ok, right?" Harry adds with a hint of irritation in his voice.

In response, the detective motions towards a couch. "Please have a seat, Mr. Styles. I need to speak with you about your wife." Harry sits down, his patience wearing thin. He knows something is wrong and he needs answers.

"Where is she? Wanna see m' wife. What's happen'?" His voice quivers with worry. "Tell me, Detective. What's going on with my wife?" Is she okay?"

As he nods his head Reeves replies, "She is indeed, but I still need to speak with you before you see her."

Harry stands and paces the tiny room. "Tell me, ya worryin' me."

"I know you're anxious," Reeves continues, "but I need you to stay here for a few minutes so we can talk."

He throws his hands in the air and asks, "Why can't I see her?"

"I understand how you feel. I know you're eager," Reeves says calmly, "but I need you to trust me and stay here while we talk things through."

"Spit it out then."

"Sir, it appears your wife wasn't truly missing in the traditional sense. Do you remember when we first spoke, and I told you adults can leave without a trace, and it's perfectly acceptable?"

"Yeah. What do ya mean?" he asks. "What are ya sayin'?"

"I'm referring to a concept called voluntary disappearance. It's when an adult chooses to leave their current life behind and start a completely different one elsewhere. It's not a crime and it's not illegal. It's a personal decision to break ties and start anew."

'I don't understand what you are sayin' when you say start a new life. I am growing more and more impatient with you," Harry says.

"Once the doctors give you the okay, I'll let you talk to your wife about it in depth, but it seems that she really did leave you. It seems she wasn't happy and didn't want to be there anymore. It was determined after lengthy discussions with myself, my partner and the medical staff that she had personal reasons for leaving. As for the details, you'll need to speak with your wife."

 "Details? Details like what? You know what? Fuck you Reeves." He points his finger at the man, then places his hands in the pockets of his sweats as he clinches his jaw. "Lemme see m' wife. 'm not playin' this game with ya', dancin' round the subject, tryin' to be cryptic. Where is she?"

"I am simply trying to let you know what our investigation has uncovered. You are welcome to see your wife, but it might be beneficial for you to understand the full scope of the situation before you enter the room."

"Go on then, tell me how ya know m' wife so much better than me," Harry says.

"You see your wife seems to be very unhappy. She suffers quite a lot. The woman in that room is much different from the wife I suspect you've known all these years."

Harry steps toward the door. "Where are the doctors? You aren't telling me shit. And how did she even end up here?"

"Said she took a bus, then rideshare to the old lady's house." The detective shrugs. She can explain where she left the car and all that when you talk to her." Reeves walks to the door and opens it. "I'll get the doctor. Please just wait here."

"Sure, whatever." Harry waves his hand.

The detective steps out, but returns within a minute or two, followed by a small woman in a white jacket.

She enters the room and extends her hand and nods. "Thank you for speaking with me, sir." Harry shakes her hand. "I'm Dr. Thomas. I've been here with your wife since she came in last night. I think there are some things you need to know before you go in, but there are also things you need to hear directly from your wife." She wants to make sure Harry is prepared to support her.

"Are you gonna dance as well? Jesus need to take you two on tour with me for all the dancing around you do."

"Sir, let's have a seat." The doctor motions toward the same sofa.

"'m tired of bein' asked to have a seat." But Harry does as the doctor asks, and sits.

She sits next to him, straightening her coat. "Mr. Styles, your wife overdosed. She said that the depression and anguish, as she described it, had become too much for her to continue. I'm so sorry," the doctor said softly, "but now we must focus on helping her through this difficult time. These maladies affect everyone differently, so what depression might look like for you or for me, looks different for her. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. Yeah, course I understand everyone's experience is different. But depression? Anguish? Where is all of this comin' from? She never let on. How could I have known she was sufferin'?" Harry stands.

"Your wife is suffering from a major depressive episode. It's not unusual for women in her situation to experience this."

"Her situation?"

"Yes, but that's something you'll need to discuss with your wife."

"This is ridiculous. Say what you've got to say or le' me to speak to 'er." Harry walks to the door and opens it.

The doctor follows him. "Mr. Styles, she's very fragile," the doctor says apologetically, "and I must stress that it is essential that you handle her with care."

"When can I take her home?" he asks.

"My advice would be to transfer her to a psychiatric hospital. I know that you have the choice of any facility you wish, so that should be left up to you. I think the transfer would be appropriate sometime tomorrow if she remains stable through tonight."

"Okay." He steps into the hall. "Thank you, doctor. I appreciate what you've done for my wife. I'll see to it we get her in the right place. I'll have her therapist and doctor coordinate with you once we determine where we are taking her. Can I see her now?"

"Yes." The doctor and detective step into the hall, and walk a few doors down, and Harry follows. "I'll be here the rest of the evening if you have any questions. Just have one of the nurses contact me." She and Harry shake hands before she walks away.

"Mr. Styles, our work here is complete, so we are going to make our way back to London. You know how to reach me. While the circumstances aren't ideal I'm happy we found her, and that she's safe. Don't be too harsh on yourself. These things happen."

Harry has the impulse to hug the man but stops and settles for a handshake. "Thank you. Thank you so very much for all you've done."

"Not at all sir. All in a day's work isn't it?"

"I suppose. Thank you." Harry nods.

"Good luck, Mr. Styles." He walks away.

"Harry, just call me Harry."

"Alright Harry. Goodnight."

Harry is excited, but apprehensive about seeing his wife. He looks down the hall and sees Liam talking with officers guarding the stairwell.

He taps on the door. There is no response, but he pushes the heavy door open.

Y/N lays in the bed staring out of the window.

"Hi, Angel. It's Harry, love." His voice is soft and steady as he slowly walks toward the bed.

As he sits in a chair next to her, he sees in her profile that she is awake. As he takes her hand, he whispers, "Love, it's me.". "Missed you. Had me going crazy wonderin' if I would ever see you again.". He brushes her hair away from her face. "I love you."

She remains silent, moves around, but still won't look at him.

"Y/N I don't know what's wrong baby. I know things are rough at home, but we'll fix them. No, I'll fix them. We don't want you to leave us ever again. I'll do anything you want." He starts to cry. "I'm here for you," he promises, his voice breaking. "We'll get through this together, whatever it takes."

Y/N doesn't respond.

"Tell me what you want, I'll do it. We've built so much together, a beautiful family. I thought we were happy, baby. I'm so sorry."

When she turns to him she avoids eye contact."I don't love you."

"How can you say that?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion .

"You can go now. I told them not to call you." Her voice is cold and dry.

He stares in disbelief, his world crumbling around him. He shakes his head. She has just spoken words he would've never predicted. He can't believe that she is so callous and that she has given up on them without even trying to work things out. With his free hand he pours a cup of water from a small pink pitcher and offers it to her. "Here, have some water. Your throat is dry."

She doesn't accept the water. Even before he came home from his tour, she realized that the connection they once had was missing. She couldn't pinpoint when she fell out of love, but it had been a while. It was time for them to separate so that she could move on and find true happiness. He deserved happiness too, and she wanted him to find it. He was a very decent man, but he just wasn't the man for her. Not anymore."

He shakes his head. "No, baby, no, that's your depression talking. We're gonna get you some help,yeah?" He rubs her hair.

"Stop it." She swats his hand away.

He removes his hand from her. "Sorry, love. It might take you some time to feel better, but I'm home and I'll look after the kids. You can have all the time you need. We'll find the finest place in the world, anywhere, and you go and take care of yourself." He tries to hand her the cup of water again.

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not thirsty."

"Baby, your voice is dry. You need to drink something."

She pushes the water away. She tries to be polite as possible, and she removes her hand from his while saying, "Please Harry, please don't make me be rude. I'm trying to be decent here. Just leave."

He stands, placing the cup on the tray. "Decent? Is that what this is? Desert your babies? Disappear without a trace knowing we were lookin' for ya? I'm here Y/N. I'm waiting for you to let me help ya', but just like the day ya left I'm lost. I don't know what to do." He sniffles as he tries to stop crying , and focus on her, and what she is saying.

She returns her gaze to the window. "Leave. That's what you can do. I'll get the help I need, but I still don't want to be married to you. As for the kids we'll figure it out, but honestly I just need to be by myself. I don't want to wait for anyone to come home, or change a diaper. I can't take the pressure anymore."

"But ya don't have to baby. I'm home now, got all the help you could want."

"Is that what you've been doing since you've been home? Helping?"

"I know I haven't been perfect, but I swear I'll try. Please at least give me the chance."

"Leave, Harry."

"No."

"Harry there's someone else." She looks down at her lap. "Is that better? Someone who doesn't make me feel like a maid or just a fuck toy."

Harry punches the wall. "No!" He grabs his hand, shaking away the pain. "You brought another man into our home, our bed?"

"No. I didn't have sex with him. But Harry, he makes me feel heard and seen. That's something we haven't had for a long time. I want a divorce. Is he the man I'll be with?" She shrugs. "I don't know, but he made me realize there is someone out there who can appreciate me as a complete woman and not just the parts that serve him."

"No, Y/N. You're not getting off that easy. You don't get to just walk away from nearly a decade at the flick of a wrist. You don't just get to leave and not give it a chance, not talk to me about how you're feelin." He wipes his face, then rubs his hurt hand.

"I'm trapped then, aren't I? Have to just keep my mouth shut and act happy. I can't Harry. I've tried and I just can't do it anymore."

"What are you talking about Y/N?" Harry walks back over and tries to hold her hand again.

"I'm a mum and a wife, your wife of all people and I'm not happy." With a shake of her head, she frees her hand from him.

"We'll work on it. I promise." He looks into her eyes, his voice firm but compassionate as he adds, "I need you to believe that I'm worth the effort."

"No matter how much we work on it, I simply don't get to be me. I'm still only a wife, your wife no less and a mother. That's all I am. It's a bitter reminder that, while I'm capable of so much more, I'm still often defined by my roles within our relationship." She closes her eyes holding back tears as she bites her lip.

"No. No, love, you're everything, that's what you are. You are a beautiful and powerful force in this world. You bring light and hope wherever you go, and nothing can stop that."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, fidgeting in bed until she finally sits up. "Harry please leave. You know I'm fine now. I'll get some help finding a place to transfer to, but please let me be. It's okay to stop loving someone. You don't get to be mad at me because of the way I feel."

He shakes his head and walks back and forth. "You know Y/N you are really a piece of work. I felt sorry for ya when they told me 'bout the shape you were in. I really did, but I see now you're just selfish." He looks at the door to check that no one is coming in. "You're bein' a coward," gritting his teeth he points at her, "not taking responsibility for your actions. You're bein' selfish."

"Oh," she says in a voice louder than she intended. She lowers her volume. "You have to be kidding, Harry. That must be a joke. Me?" She presses her hands to her chest. "I'm selfish?"

"Yeah, Y/N tha's what I said. Selfish."

"That's not true!" she declares, her voice indignant. "I'm not selfish!"

"Then what is Y/N? What are you? Those kids need their mum!" Harry shouts this time.

Y/N drops her voice. "No more than they've needed a father."

A twisted expression appears on Harry's face. "Is that what this is about? Tryin' to teach me a lesson at the expense of the kids?"

"Quit being so fucking narcissistic Harry, everything in the world isn't about you! Don't you get enough attention already? This isn't about teaching you anything."

He steps toward the bed. "Oh really? Well, Lola, you remember her, the littlest one? Big beautiful eyes, chubby cheeks, you remember her don't ya? Been sick since you left. Archer, the oldest one, gorgeous boy, ya remember him? Well he busted his foot. No to mention ya leave the whole of the world lookin' for ya." Harry chuckles as he tugs at his lip. "You can't take it anymore. Bullshit. That's what it is. How about your mum and sisters? All of our friends? You've had lots of people outta their minds Y/N"

"You think I don't know the trouble I've caused?" She asks her voice rising with each word. "You think I don't care about the kids? Well, I do! That's why I left."

"Leavin' 'ems not helpin' 'em is it? Wonderin' where their mum has gone, leavin' me to make up lies, promisin' you'll be back." Harry kicks the bed.

The door opens, a young male nurse interrupts. "Alright in here?"

"Yes," Y/N replies.

"Are you sure?" the nurse asks.

"I'm sure." She nods.

"If your visitor is upsetting you I'm sure we can have the officers remove him." The nurse looks Harry up and down.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," Y/N says.

"I'll be right outside if you need me." He closes the door.

"It's not about you or the kids, or anyone else. Don't you see that? It's about me. It's about what I want." She stands.

"Marriage doesn't work that way, and building a life together doesn't work that way." Harry reduces the space between them, stepping toward her.

She looks at the floor, then at Harry. "Marriage is about two people and if one person is only focused on themselves, then the marriage is not going to work. This marriage is about you, and I'm not angry anymore. You can't help who you are and I can't help how I feel."

Harry grips her shoulders, leaning down to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't know how to make it work, but I promise I'll try."

"Harry, you can't fix it. I've fallen out of love with you." Tears fill her eyes. "Do you think it makes me happy to make you upset? Of course not. I love you, but I'm not in love with you." She speaks the words that are the kiss of death to anyone on the receiving end. "That's why I took the pills."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "What do you mean?"

"Death would be easier than leaving. I'd rather be dead than hurt you or the kids. I wish that old lady had let me be." She sighs heavily, looking away.

Harry kneels, grabs her legs and hides his face in her thighs as he pleads with her. "Don't say that. Never, ever, ever say that again." He sobs at the mere mention of her harming himself. "I know you're in pain," he whispers while rubbing the back of her legs. "But I need you to understand that no matter what, I'm here for you. We can get through this together."

She touches his shoulder. "Don't feel obligated to say what you think I want to hear."

"'m not, swear it love. I'd give up everything just to see you smile again. If that means splitting up, then I'll accept it. Walking away from my career, I'll do it. You hold all the cards love."

"Let's be serious Harry you're never leaving your career."

"But I'm willing to make this sacrifice for us," Harry said, determined to make his point clear. "I would. If that's what you want I won't fight you. I'll post on Instagram or Twitter or whatever, and announce m' retirement." He looks up at her. His eyes are full of dedication, sadness, and desperation.

She shakes her head and looks at the ceiling. "No. I don't know why I can't just let it all go," she whispers. "But it's like my heart won't let me. I don't even know how to love you anymore."

"Go, Harry."

"But would you at least discuss it with a therapist before we make a final decision? Please."

"Harry, please go home. Please tell the children I love them, and I will see them soon." Out of habit she rubs his thick, dark curls, holding him to her for just a moment. Tears roll down her face. "Please go."

He releases himself from her and stands. He takes her face in his hands, scanning her eyes for a glimpse of the old Y/N but she's not there. After placing a kiss on her forehead, he says in a soft, gentle voice. "I love you Y/N. I always will. Nothing you can do will change that. I will never give up on us, never." He's determined to be there for her.

With a trembling lip, she steps back and gives him a final nod of her head, her heart aching as she watches her husband walk away.

At the door he turns to her. "Meant what I said. Anything in the world to make ya stay, to work this out."

She nods. "Sure," she says.

"Speak with your doctors, and once you decide on a place I'll make sure it's paid for, but please let's at least talk about it again when you're feelin' better."

####

It's been two months since Harry rushed to Scotland to see his wife. It has been two months since she left, saying she no longer loved him. For the last month they have worked with their therapist to try and fix what's broken. Y/N lives in an apartment they own on the other side of the city. The kids remain with Harry. For the first few weeks Anne stayed with Harry to help, but since then he's been on his own with the children. They don't fully understand why their Mummy doesn't live with them. When she sees them it is difficult when Harry takes them back home for both Y/N and the children. There are always sobs in the car as Harry drives them home, buying their contentment with ice cream and toys and amusement parks. However, he know that isn't a sustainable way for them to cope.

With the help of a child psychologist they are adjusting a bit. But the transition is difficult for everyone and their wounds remain deep .Each day is a little bit easier. He works his schedule around theirs, and makes certain he is available to them at any time. He leaves Lola with a trusted friend or Gemma when he can't take her with him. That's usually only for therapy appointments with Y/N. During the day the two older children are in school so his only immediate concern is Lola. He has put all his plans on hold. He's even asked Jeff not to call for the time being. Jeff is one of his best friends, but Harry also knows it's all business in the end. He can't let anything distract him. The three shows in Manchester are around the corner. He's decided to stay with his mum so she can help with the kids while he rehearses and puts the final touches on the show.

####

Manchester Night Three

Harry is near the end of his final night in Manchester when he walks to the mic stand.

"Thank you everyone for welcoming me home. As most of you know I grew up not too far from here, and it's always a pleasure coming home. It's been an honor returning to Manchester and getting the chance to perform for all of you these three nights."

The crowd erupts into cheers and barking. Harry gives them a moment before he continues. In spite of the noise of the crowd, he speaks, "Thank you so much for everything, but the evening isn't quite over yet! I have something very special and unexpected for all of you."

Harry and the band have had a tremendous impact on people, as evidenced by the crowd's enthusiasm and appreciation. The cheering and applause are not only a sign of gratitude and admiration, but they also serve as a reminder of the show's success. A clear indication of the joy it has brought to countless people.

"Thank you." Harry chokes back tears, pausing for a moment as he looks at the ground. He clears his throat and continues. "Throughout our show's run, we have had the opportunity to share our message of joy and positivity with people from all walks of life. We are overwhelmed by the amount of support we have received and we are truly thankful for the encouragement and love we have been shown." He stops and looks around, taking it all in, the enormous stadium filled with people who love him, but there is one person missing, the only person that matters. "There should be glow stick necklaces in your seats. I see many of you have them already. Please make sure that you all wear them for the last few songs. Come on then, I want this room to look like a sea of stars. I usually end the show with Kiwi, but tonight we have changed up the setlist. I hope you'll like what I've got in store for you." A cheer breaks out. Harry walks to the other side of the stage.

"But before I do that, I want to share a few things with you." He looks back at the band, giving a half-smile. "I rarely talk about my personal life or business endeavors, but tonight I would like to share a bit of that with you. My contract will end after tonight's last song."

A few in the crowd murmur, mumble, cheer or shout, but most of the fans are quiet as they await his next words. Some are predicting a surprise release of his next album tonight.

"But this time I didn't renew that contract. No one, not even my wife knows that. Instead, I'm taking a break to spend some quality time with my family and reflect on the past as well as consider my next steps, whatever they may be." The stadium falls silent as he continues. However, some decide to boo Harry during such a vulnerable moment.

"I know, and believe me I'm sorry to say that, but it's important you hear it from me, and not the press or social media gossip. As most of you know I have a beautiful family, and I love them more than words, even mine can describe. They are true treasures. A pair of beautiful, sweet, and amazing daughters, as well as a handsome and gifted son. But there's one person who doesn't get the credit they deserve and that's my wife. She truly is a Sweet Creature. Everything that is good and happy in my life stems from that woman. She has been with me for almost 10 years, and that alone makes her a saint." Harry holds back tears as his voice cracks. "While I have been traveling the world doing what I love, she has been at home with our family. However, somewhere along the way I forgot how difficult it must be for her. She always shared me with you without reserve or hesitation. She inspired some of you favorite songs. I also realized just how much I'd missed with my kids. And for those reasons I am embarking on a long hiatus."

The jumbotron catches women and girls sobbing, some holding their hands to their hearts praising him for being such a wonderful husband. His gesture of love and dedication resonates with many, as evidenced by the reactions of the crowd.

"And I hope during that time you don't forget me, and that you love the music I come back with, but I want to take some time to be with my family and hopefully grow as a person as well as an artist. Now, my kids are backstage, and if you're good I might invite them out at the end of the show. " Everyone screams and yells.

"The songs I'm about to play have meant a lot to me recently. After looking through the catalogue of songs I've written or just sang over the years, some really stuck out as very significant right now. So, if you'll be patient for one more moment I'd like to ask some special people to join me on the stage."

As a customized riser comes from beneath the stage, four silhouettes can be seen. The roar and stomping that comes from the crowd can probably be heard in Liverpool.

"I think some of you might recognize these guys, but just in case I'll let them introduce themselves." The crowd begins to quiet down. The stage lights shine down on the four men as they turn toward the crowd.

"I'm Niall." The crowd cheers.

"I'm Zayn." The crowd only grows louder.

"Hey everyone, it's Liam" And the cheers continue to grow.

And finally. "I'm Louis."

The stadium is so loud that the guys can't talk to one another so they just smile and wave at the crowd. The atmosphere is electric, like a thunderstorm that has been brewing for days and is finally ready to unleash its power.

Harry laughs into the mic. "Weren't expecting that were you?" His quip elicits a roar of laughter from the audience, further encouraging their enthusiasm. Everyone seems on the verge of hysteria.

So I'd like to start off with a song that has really hit home for me lately. This one is called "Long Way Down."

Niall begins,

We made a fire Went down in the flames We sailed an ocean And drowned in a wave Built a cathedral But we never prayed We had it all, yeah And we walked away

Harry belts out his iconic, soulful lyrics

Point of no return And now it's just too late to turn around I try to forgive you, But I struggle 'cause I don't know how We built it up so high and now I'm fallin' It's a long way down It's a long way down from here

The voices of the stadium singing along all but drowned out the boys completely. The song continues with all of the boys singing their parts with absolute perfection.

"Now, this next one's even further back in the catalogue, and it's called Infinity," Louis says. Music emanating from the stage even further excites the fans, as the boys grin with joy at being together and sharing a stage with each other. Once again they are in complete harmony as though it had been days and not years since they sang together.

"And I think the fellas got one more left in 'em. Do ya guys?" Harry asks with his signature smile.

They agree.

"This one has been on my mind as I made these recent decisions about my career. Y/N I hope you're listening. "If I could fly". Harry begins.

If I could fly I'd be coming right back home to you I think I might Give up everything, just ask me to

The song is as beautiful as it was the first time the crowd heard it so many years ago. After the final note. Each of the boys nod, and say thank you. The five gather at the center of the stage and engage in a long, tearful embrace. The entire crowd is crying and cheering. Eventually the boys wave and say goodbye one last time before exiting.

"Thank you so much, guys, and to you our fans thank you for loving and supporting us as individual artists since we played as One Direction. I think I speak for all of us, when I say we are immensely grateful for each and everyone of you." The fans cheer and shout.

"Okay. So I promised if you were good I'd let you see my adorable bubs. I think my mum has them backstage. Sarah, would you mind going back and helping bring the babies in?"

Sarah nods, steps away from her drum kit and walks backstage. Harry entertains the crowd by reading signs. Soon everyone is indicating to Harry that there is activity behind him. When he turns around Sarah has Poppy by her hand, and Archer walks ahead of them. "Where's my Lola?" he asks Sarah.

"She's coming."

"What? She can't even walk without help." Harry laughs.

He turns back to the crowd, "Okay baby Styles is somewhere."

He leans down to Poppy. "Can you tell my friends your name?"

"Poppy." She grabs the hem of her lace dress and tucks her face into Harry's chest. The crowd ooh and awws.

Archer pats his dad's leg. "My turn."

"I think he's gonna be the performer in the bunch."

Harry squats as he asks, "And what's your name?"

"Archer, and I busted my foot, but it's better."

The audience laughs hysterically. Suddenly, they scream almost as loudly as they did for the One Direction guys. Harry turns around to see Y/N carrying Lola.

He mouths "What are you doing here?"

She smiles and shrugs. He extends his arms to take Lola. "And this little bit is Lola." He kisses the baby, then gives Y/N a peck on the cheek, not wanting to step across the boundaries they've set for the time being. He puts his arm around Y/N's waist. "And this is Y/N. She's everything I could ever ask for in a wife. She's the only reason I'm still doing this for you, but now it's her turn." He points to the kids. "And their turn. Like I said I hope you don't forget me and are still here when I come back. I don't know how long that will be, but no matter how long it is I'll never forget any of you, or any of this. I love you all. Thank you so much. And with that I'd like to ask the band to join me for a wave and bow."

The band walks forward and in a line they put their arms around one another, some smiling, some crying as they take the final bow.

###

Backstage.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asks Y/N.

"Your mum told me there was something I really needed to be here for."

"Does this mean?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet Harry, and I don't know if or when it will be, but tonight was a start."

She hugs him and kisses him on the cheek.

"That's all I need, some hope, at least a start."

"Okay." She nods and takes his hand. "A start."

[heart-defendor]

City of Nightmares Part 4

Shes back baby!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: Typical Acotar stuff, MDI

 Lounging on a chaise in her brother's chambers and watching as her brother Orian argued with one of their cousins about some inane topic. Drinking in one of the comfy salons of the family estate was a typical night for them, the arguing was typical too.She drew her legs up tucking them under her knees, enjoying the heat that came from the large silver and black marble fireplace.The chatter faded into the background. 

A week and a half had passed since she had last seen Azriel, that had been the night where he’d saved her .When in her drunken state awkwardly proposed he come again. She cringed internally. Y/n had even suggested he fly up and meet her on her balcony, which was totally unnecessary given he was just walking her home.  ANd he had stayed entertaining her drunken ramblings. 

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to see him again. The odds were so stacked against them, it would be smarter to avoid the heartbreak all together. 

Suddenly,she felt it, like a flower blooming within her chest. 

He’s here.

 The bond had come alive.  As strong as when it had first snapped, Azriel was close and had left his side of the bond wide open. 

She felt a gentle tug, he was calling to her. Yn sits up quickly, her heart beats wildly in her chest and all doubts are quickly forgotten. Fortunately the others are still too busy to notice the change. She steadies herself, doing her best to appear calm; she bids them goodnight before swiftly returning to her own chambers where she is sure she will find him. 

Mate, Mate 

She stops in front of her large oak door, he's on the other side she knows it. But Yn is rooted to the ground, her urgency is doused by waves of anxiety. She feels it pulling in her chest and all too soon realizes this isn't her fear, it's Azriels. He's worried about meeting her. Scared of how she will respond to him. It's the push she needs, her hand closes on the brass door knob and she steps into the room. 

The room is dark, but she finds him easily enough. Azriel is leaning threshold to her balcony, backlit from Hewns lights, his shadows swirl along the floor. He's trying to appear nonchalant but the bond betrays his nerves. 

Does he know I can feel him?

Yn gives him a small smile, and flicks her wrists illuminating the room in a soft glow. He gives her a small smile in return but does not move from his place against the door frame. 

"You don't have to be nervous, ill be nice I swear"

Immediately the anxiety in her chest vanishes as Azriel clamps down their connection. Azriel gives a soft grunt and looks to the floor, Yn can't help but find the gesture cute and lets out a giggle. She walks over to a small glass and metal cart against the wall that houses her favorite liquor, a whiskey from the Winter Court, along with an assortment of mixers. She can feel his golden eyes following her.

Picking up the bottle by the neck in one dainty manicured hand, she spins towards him and gives the bottle a small shake. 

"Is the sick up your ass still there or are you going to join me for a drink?"

Azriel snorts, but his posture loses its rigidity and his wings open slightly. This is what he must look like when actually relaxed, she thinks while unscrewing the cap. 

"I thought you said you were going to be nice”

"I am being nice," she grins while plopping down in her plush crimson armchair now with drink in hand. She snuggles into it with her knees crossed. "Besides it's only the truth, you and that general are always so rigid, standing about glaring at everyone. Do you two ever have fun? Perhaps it’s an Illyrian thing?”

Azriel shugs, finally leaving the threshold to grab the drink she prepared for him,“It’s our job to keep the High Lord and Lady safe”. He doesn't sit in the adjacent chair, instead making his way over to the foot of her bed. For his wings she realizes as he sits down and they spread out on either side of him. They are so large the ends hang off the sides. Powerful too, she remembered how they had launched him into the air with her in his arms. 

Her attention snaps back to his face. “As for Cassian, be thankful he isn't down here making a fool of himself. Did you know he destroyed an entire building in the Summer Court? If left unsupervised he’d probably bring down this whole damn mountain.”

Y/n chuckled, “Sounds like you are more of a babysitter for the High Lord and the general than you are a spymaster.”

Azriel smirked back at her, “some days it certainly feels like it.” 

The two talked late into the night. About Azriels family and the mischief they had gotten into over the years and all the places he had traveled as a part of his court duties. He told her about how the Inner Circle were his family, that Ryhsand and Cassian had become brothers. She learnt that her High Lord went by Rhys, and preferred to live in a townhouse for Cauldron's sake over the Moonstone Palace. He skirted around the topic of his birth family, when she asked. His eyes downcast and his gloved hands were tightened on his glass only mentioning that his father had left him at an Illyrian training camp at a young age.

The focus had quickly shifted to her own family. How her cousin Cole couldn’t flirt to save his life, of her friends that she frequently partied with. Though he already knew of him, Y/n had boasted about Orian who had climbed the Darkbringer ranks, working closely with her uncle. Azriel had shown surprise when she talked about her own training, how it was not uncommon for females in the Court of Nightmares to know how to defend themselves. “Although I am useless with a sword, I have never had use for one.” She had said, her voice filled with pride as she talked about the Umbra family’s strong Night Court magic.   

They had then discussed books and card games and all matters of random things that made them who they are. Conversation flowed like water between them. When the world fell away and it was just the two of them, safe in her chambers, it was to forget all the reasons they shouldn’t be together. The cord in her ribs grew stronger as her perceptions of him fell apart to see the sweet and kind soul underneath. 

At some point she joined him on the bed snuggling into the comforter, Azriel remained above the sheets but had settled beside her leaning against the headboard. Now she watched as Azriel’s wing that had been spread behind her tentatively curled around her body. Y/n watched the way the muscles and fibers moved beneath the membrane. She had thought them a deep gray but now she could tell they had a purplish tinge to them. They looked soft yet strong, she wondered what they would feel like beneath her fingers. Without thinking she reach out running her hand along the inside of a bone. They are soft.

Y/n heard a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes flicked over to Azriel, he was staring back, honey eyes now wide and dark, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink. 

“Do they please you?” 

Immediate denial of her fascination was on the tip of her tongue when something stopped her, Azriel was being vulnerable. She could be honest. Besides this was her mate, she was allowed to like him.

“They are beautiful," she admitted. He searched her face for something when appeased his own face broke out into a grin.  

“You should, know Illyrian wings are sensitive, don't start something you aren't ready to finish." His voice held both promise and challenge.

She wanted to rise to it, she meant to. Instead she yawned and Azriel laughed. Suddenly she was aware of how tired she was, her eyelids grew heavy.

"Perhaps next time princess, get some sleep its late."

She tried to protest but another yawn interrupted her. .Azriel smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and felt the bed shift as he got up.

As she drifted off surrounded by the sent of cedar and cool night air, she let herself be content. If only for the time being.

Tag list: @issybee0611 @emturtles @valeridarkness @marina468 @hollyismentallyillhelp @dumbbitchitis69

[stumped-on-bennington]

Mr. Sandman, Showing His Beam

Part 1: Build My Dreams

Summary: Dr. Benzedrine has a new creation that he's keeping under lock and key, but its only a matter of time before Mr. Sandman discovers her.

Pairing: America's Sweethearts!Pete Wentz x Reader

Pronouns used: She/Her

Requested by: @xx-scene-queen-fangz-xx

Word count: 1632

Y/N didn't know much of the outside world. She had only been in the world for a short time, almost a year to be exact. She had been created by the amazing Dr. Benzedrine in his lab. 

Y/N’s creation had been a mistake, actually. The Doctor was trying to find a solution to the creatures known as “The Paparazzi” that kept dragging unsuspecting victims to the ooze, changing them forever. The Doctor wanted to create a doll that could fight off the paparazzi, but he mistakenly created Y/N instead, a sweet doll of a girl who had a certain spark in her eyes. 

As soon as Y/N opened her eyes, the Doctor knew he had to protect her from the cruelties of the world. He built her a room with many trinkets and toys to keep her occupied. Y/N would sing beautifully, causing the mechanical birds that the Doctor created to fly and chirp, as if they had come to life. 

One day, while playing, Y/N was singing around one of the Doctor’s new automatons. The machine was made to mimic a bear, one that was extremely large in size with pointed teeth and claws. The sweet melody that Y/N was singing caused the machine to roar to life, swinging its arms wildly. Y/N wasn’t used to such creatures of violence, causing her to not understand the urgency to run away. The bear swiped at Y/N, gouging her fragile porcelain skin. Before Y/N knew what had happened, fear had taken over her body, enveloping her in a dark shadow, only her glowing blue eyes shining in the darkness. Her personality had shifted, causing her to fight back against the machine and destroying most of the work room. The once passive and sweet girl had turned into a weapon of total destruction.

Hearing the loud sound of metal and wood breaking, the Doctor ran up to the work room, fearing that Y/N could be hurt. When he opened the door, he found Y/N shielded in shadow, her piercing blue eyes darting towards him as he entered the room. Slowly, she creeped towards him, seeing him as her next target. The only thing Benzedrine could do was choke out a whimper of her name.

“Y-Y/N..?” he whispered. 

Suddenly, she stopped. Her eyes dilating back to their usual size, before the shadows melting off her body. 

Now, standing before Dr. Benzedrine was the small and fragile girl he knew. A crack forming across on her cheek had exposed some of her inner mechanics; Gears ticking as Y/N did her best not to cry as she looked up at Benzedrine. 

“D-Doctor, I…” Y/N began. Before she could get out another word, Benzedrine simply hugged the girl, holding her close.

“Oh, thank the heavens, Y/N. I was worried something awful had happened to you.” the Doctor kneeled down to look at Y/N’s broken face. He studied the crack for a moment. “Come now, Let’s get you fixed up, shall we?” The Doctor calmly led Y/N over to a workbench that had seen minimal damage and began working on Y/N’s face.

The fix wasn’t perfect, in fact the crack had just been filled with gold, allowing for Y/N’s mechanics to be covered once again, but for there to be a permanent visual reminder of the event.

Since that day, Dr. Benzedrine hadn’t allowed Y/N out of her room. He was afraid of Y/N getting hurt again, but he was more afraid of her hurting someone else, so he kept her a secret. He would bring her his latest inventions, all small animals that were usually kept as pets; a goldfish automaton that could really swim in water, a kitten automaton that purred in your lap, a puppy automaton that would chase its own tail. Benzedrine made it all to try and keep Y/N happy, to keep her locked away where she was safe. 

At night, long after the Doctor had gone to sleep, Y/N would sneak away to a corner of her room that she had kept hidden: A loose set of bricks that she could pull out of the wall and sneak out of the house, down to the garden that was overgrown. Y/N would spend many nights here, watching the stars, seeing real animals, like foxes and raccoons, and dancing quietly through the breeze of the night.

One night, as Y/N tiptoed through the tall grass and wildflowers, someone caught sight of her. The man blended in through the shadows, moving without a sound nor a trace. As he reached Y/N, his yellow eyes glowed, narrowing in on her. 

As Y/N turned around, she was met with the glowing eyes of the man, causing her to stumble and fall backwards, looking up at him in fear. But before her instincts could take over, the shadows melted off the figure, revealing an oddly dressed man in black and gold, a pointed collar, and a large permanent smile painted on his face. 

“Hello there, dolly.” He said, offering his hand to help pull her back to her feet. Y/N reluctantly took his hand, allowing him to help her back up. As Y/N was pulled back up, she looked up into the man’s eyes, staring for a few seconds before her senses caught up with her. Y/N turned to leave, but the man still had a hold on her hand.

“Hey, wait.” he said, gently pulling her back to him. “I don’t even know your name and you're already trying to leave?” He looked down into her glowing blue eyes, sensing the innocence that she possessed. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t stay, I must get back inside. I’m not supposed to be seen by anyone.” She whispered to him.

“Very well.” he said, letting go of her hand. “But before you go, allow me to give you something.” He pulled a small vial on a chain from his pocket, unscrewed the top, and rubbed his fingers above the opening. Little particles of gold sand began to fall from his fingers, filling the vial. When the container was half full, he stopped and closed up the top, handing it over to Y/N.

“Take this with you and wear it when you go to sleep.” He said as Y/N gently took the chain from the man. She looked down at the vial, perplexed by why he would give this to her. As she looked up to ask the man what it ment, he had already vanished. Y/N clutched the vial before turning to go back inside. 

Back in her room, Y/N studied the necklace, watching the sand fall as she turned the vial and how it seemed to glow, even in the dark. The color looked the exact same as the strange man's eyes, a pale yellow with a few specks of a deep gold mixed in. Y/N hung the necklace around her neck, tucking the vial into the collar of her dress, to keep it concealed. 

As Y/N began to fall asleep that night, her dreams were filled with the golden sand. Walking through the dunes and valleys, she found herself standing next to the man from earlier that night. 

“Hello again, Dolly.” he smiled at her.

“That is not my name.” she said bashfully. 

“Then enlighten me, what is your name?” He asked.

“Y/N… My name is Y/N.” she said to the man.

He smiled at her again. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. One good introduction deserves one another in return; My name is Mr. Sandman. Now tell me, Y/N, why have I never seen you before?” He leaned down to look at the smaller girl. 

Y/N played with the hem of her dress, looking down at her feet as she spoke. “The Doctor created me. He’s afraid of me getting hurt again, or rather, he’s afraid of what I might be capable of, what damage I might cause, who I might hurt…” she trails off as she speaks. 

Sandman laughs, “What you might be capable of? A small thing like you?” he chuckles as he watches how Y/N becomes more bashful, almost fearful as she gently runs her fingers across the gold repair on her cheek. Sandman stops laughing, realizing that what she says is rather real to her. He kneels down, so that he is looking up into Y/N’s face as he grabs her hands. “Tell me what happened, Y/N. Help me understand why you're locked away.” 

As they both sat in the sand, Y/N told Sandman the story of what she remembers, and what Benzedrine had told her he saw when she was blacked out. 

Sandman held Y/N’s hand, drawing small circles on it with his thumb as he listened. As Y/N finished the story, Sandman let out a low hum before speaking, “Sounds like to me you have a lot of strong emotions. You know, I know someone else who is just like that.” 

Y/N perked up, turning to face Sandman, “You do? Well how do I get rid of them?” 

Sandman chuckled lightly, “You don’t. You just learn to live with them.” Y/N frowned at the answer. As she looked down and back out to the setting sun on the horizon, Sandman spoke. 

“Well, it would seem that our time here is drawing to a close, mon petit chou.” Sandman says as he stands, pulling up Y/N with him. “I’ll see you tonight, but until then, good morning.” as he says his last words, Y/N awakes back in her bed.

[ihatesocialmedia45]

Ch 2: Secret Agent Man

So, I *have* already posted this on A03, but I like adding it onto Tumblr as well. Here is ch2!

Romantic playlist for your listening pleasure (and immersion!) "Homelander's Theme (Reader's Theme)" ⏬ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lcsddnb3Oc&list=PLS41qcbRSTzvdPNfdVcjf5Uy4kWNiuKIX

"She was at the Vought New Year's event! How hard could it be to find her?!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I need a clearer photo. This snippet from VNN is too blurry for me to gather any intel!"

"45 million fucking dollars a year, and you can't find a person -  after I give you a picture?! What the hell are we signing your checks for.."

Annika blanched, but her eyes were resigned. She sighed. 

"I'm sorry, Homelander. Maybe, if you leave the picture with me... I can reach out to Finance, and see who bought tickets to the event. Then, I can go from there?"

For a second, Homelander was appeased, if not a little angry - that had been all he'd wanted. Did she have to make him yell at her in order to get it? He turned to leave... but a feeling of discontent rippled through him, growing stronger with each step he took. What was wrong with him? Each lurch he took toward the door felt too heavy, as though his body was fighting against his exit. He stopped, furrowed his brow. Annika looked up at him, a mixture of wariness and fear etched into the bags under her eyes.

"Sir?" 

Homelander grit his teeth, and clenched a fist - only to realize what had felt so wrong. "Leave the picture with me," she'd said. Homelander tightened his jaw, muscles twitching delicately under his skin.

"You know what, Annika?" his voice was too sweet, dripping honey, when he hovered backwards toward her, in that smooth, uncanny way that made him look like a marionette flying through the air. He knew they all hated it when he chose to fly like that, feet dangling obscenely, like those of a hanged corpse, as he lifted only a few feet off the ground. That was why he did it: control, of the narrative. Of their perceptions of him.

"I'll take it from here. I feel just awful, for taking up your time like this..." he placed a hand on his heart, and sending a mock concerned look down at her. Quicker now, almost harsh in its urgency, Homelander snatched up the blurry picture from Annika's desk - and immediately, all was well. The photo, folded neatly into a small square, fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, just like the person captured in it had last night; Homelander felt a peace wash over him that comforted as well as unsettled. The feeling, however brief, of wholeness, seemed to sing from between the slats of his ribs, bubbling in his veins. 

It was perfect.

It was pathetic.

Homelander snarled lightly, feeling a small twinge of satisfaction when he saw several members of Crime Analytics shiver. Good.

Without another word, he rose in the air again, sending the smallest hint of heat through his eyes, listening in grim amusement as all the hearts in Crime Analytics pattered in double-time. It was good for them, he thought as he graced down the hall. Those nerds, locked in that lightless dungeon, hardy ever getting any exercise... maybe an occasional jolt to the heart would benefit them.

Homelander lay on his stomach in bed, laptop set on the soft duvet; he clicked away, looking through everything he'd amassed during his brief search of the girl from New Year's. After threatening Annika into silence, he'd taken her idea and gone to Finance, presenting his demands of finding the woman - it was top priority. After around thirty minutes of pacing the halls, they'd procured everything he'd wanted: a name, a real picture of their face, where they worked. He stuffed down the relief and let disdain take its place, grabbing the files they handed him with a wolfish glint to his eye. It was bad enough that he felt this way, obsessing over some girl who likely didn't care nearly as much as he'd imagined - but to have an audience to his shame, however buried it may be, was a bridge too far. He needed to take this on himself. No witnesses.

And so that was what he'd done - and he'd had to say... maybe he'd been a bit too harsh on Annika for her reluctance to jump into this project. Finding people was work, with half of his leads directing him to dead ends; social media accounts she'd deleted, blog posts which were interesting but gave him nothing further to work with - he'd skipped over those, waving his hand dismissively. He kept up the search, typed her address into Google Maps, hoping to glean something, anything about her through this look out onto her street - but, to his mounting frustration, the girl remained elusive. Instagram - nothing. Tiktok - nothing. Even LinkedIn, Twitter, fucking MySpace... all provided no answer. She was nowhere to be found, the warmth of her presence absent from any platform he searched. 

For a dark moment, the thought of streaking across the sky to her, slicing through the air like a bullet, raced through his mind. Yes, Homelander purred, he'd go to her apartment - she had given him her address, he thought, excitement black and tantalizing in his gut. He'd go to her apartment, and...

What?

Kiss her?

Kill her?

Both scenes played in his mind.

Her lips, plush and velveteen against his, the scent of bergamot in the air.

Her blood, smeared across his suit, congealed in his hair, sweet as syrup on his tongue. Her heart, clamped in his jaws.

Even in his darkness, the desire to taste her, hot and shameful, permeated his being.

He'd kill her, punish her for cracking him open, humiliating him.

He'd whisper sweet nothings into her ear, the roll of his hips gentle as she clung to him, panting.

The thought made his stomach - among other things - jump. Not now, Homelander thought, stuffing that train of thought into the recesses of his mind.

Bringing his focus back to the laptop, he poked his tongue out in concentration, typing her name into Facebook's search engine, snarling when she didn't come up. But before his mind could darken, he found something else, that stilled the restless beast within.

Another person, with her last name, her eyes - those enormous eyes... copied into this older woman's face. Her mother. He clicked on her profile, hating the tremor in his hand.

Scrolling through her page, he felt his eyes cloud over with disinterest. There were photos of her mother, a man who he presumed was her father, other girls, a young boy, all sharing her likeness - siblings? But they were so young... she had to have been in her late twenties, early thirties at most. But these were... children. She must be the eldest.

He dragged his way down the page, a roll of disgust washing over him despite himself. There were no pictures of her on her own mother's page. Plenty of the brats - the girls dancing on stage, the boy proudly brandishing a tooth with a jack-o-lantern smile... but none of the girl who'd voiced a murmured desire to kiss him, that cold winter night.

I'd kiss him.

Then kiss me.

Please.

"Fuck!" Homelander hissed, shoving the laptop away from him.

He paced around the room, hands in his hair, taking a few deep breaths to center himself. 

She is nothing, he thought, letting the words sink in before repeating them back. She is nothing, and you are everything.

"Nothing," he whispered. Tried to believe it.

Suddenly, he felt a strange pulling sensation in his stomach. Like a piece of dental floss, coming from his navel -  and someone behind him was giving it an insistent yank. At the same time, the sound of his own voice called to him, and he felt his body chill as he realized where it was coming from. The mirror.

"Jo-ohn...!" it teased. Homelander screwed his eyes shut, hanging his head.

Not this, not now..

Sighing bitterly, he trudged over to the John in the mirror, avoiding his paternal, if condescending, gaze.

"John," he started, giving him an amused look. Homelander looked above him, avoiding his gaze. The mirror John sighed.

"Look at me, buddy." Homelander shook his head, lip beginning to quiver before he stopped it.

"John..." his voice sounded sad now. The thought of his pity had Homelander wrenching his gaze to meet him, resolve shining brightly, jaw tight. Mirror John smiled appreciatively.

"Atta boy. That's what I like to see."

"Now, John.. why are you getting so worked up? I don't understand... over a human?" His voice was incredulous, though not unkind.

"It's natural for us to be lonely. Nobody... nobody, could understand this pain. They're not meant to. That's the burden of a god."

"I wish I'd never met her. I hate her," he whispered, a low roll of thunder sounding within him.

Mirror John tutted. "Now, that's not true, is it? Lying is beneath you, John."

A beat of silence passed, Homelander's glare murderous. But then he sighed, dropping his head.

"No..." he mumbled, defeated. "I... I just..." the unvoiced longing caught in his throat. He closed his eyes hard - and the visions started, the sound of her weaving around his heart and squeezing.

' I'd kiss him...' ' I'd kiss him...' ' I'd kiss him...'

The weight of her in his lap, her lips parted in a throaty moan as he filled her.

Her lifeless corpse in his arms, the steam of her entrails curling around him like incense.

'He'd looked so... lonely,'

'I'd kiss him...'

Then fucking kiss me

'Goodnight, Homelander. Happy New Year.'

Call me John.

'I'd kiss him.'

Then kiss me.

Please.

"Fuck! Why did she have to be there at all?!"

Another moment of quiet, still as graveyard air.

"What do I do?" he asked, raising his head - only to see that Mirror John was gone, leaving his own troubled reflection in his place.