#friends and family we are gathered here today to fucking YEARN

[theostrophywife]

Hey! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader fic where reader doesn’t know a lot about males and so az (maybe he already has a thing for reader) offers to give her lessons? The more NSFW the better 😉

innocence.

author's note: sorry for being m.i.a. please accept this as my apology gift. largely inspired by this song. you can't tell me that az doesn't have the biggest corrpution kink 😏

it started out innocently enough.

one winter evening after a particularly rowdy wine night, you and azriel laid in a heap at the house of wind, giggling at nothing as the warmth of the alcohol lowered your inhibitions and loosened your lips.

"never?" azriel asked incredulously, his brows creasing in the most adorable way. "you've truly never kissed anyone?"

you pouted, crossing your arms. thanks to cassian and his big mouth, the shadowsinger now knew the true extent of your naivete. growing up in the high priestess's temple in the dawn court, you had devoted much of your life to duty and training, which left little to no room for encounters with the opposite sex.

it never bothered you before. until you moved to the night court and met the shadowsinger. azriel was beyond gorgeous and smart and funny and probably well-versed in the art of seduction, which is more than you could say for your inexperienced self.

"don't tease, az." you groaned, covering your face behind your hands. as if that would hide the flush spreading through your cheeks. "i'm already mortified enough as it is."

"hey," azriel said softly as he gently grabbed your wrists. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, love."

"you're just saying that to be nice."

the shadowsinger shook his head. "i torture people for a living," he deadpanned. "i am not nice."

you chuckled, which brought a smile to azriel's handsome face. "besides, practice makes perfect. i've seen you go from not knowing how to hold a sword to perfecting the eight point attack in a matter of weeks. kissing should be a piece of cake compared to that."

"kissing and fighting aren't the same thing."

azriel smirked. "it is, if you're doing it right. all it takes is a good teacher." the tips of your ears reddened. “and we all know how fast of a learner you are.”

you snorted. "somehow i doubt that nesta would be into the idea of letting me borrow her mate for lessons." a little frown formed on your face. "or maybe she would. you never know with those two."

the idea formed in azriel's mind before he could think better of it. the shadowsinger hated that he thought of it in the first place, but fuck. you were both a little tipsy and a tiny bit reckless and he'd been crushing on you for far too long and maybe tonight was the night he finally did something about it.

"i could teach you."

you stilled. “what?”

azriel shrugged and put on his most nonchalant expression even though his inner monologue was currently pure turmoil. “i could teach you how to kiss.” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to yours. “it might help to practice with someone you’re comfortable with.”

you cocked your head, weighing his words. “you’re…actually serious about this.”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, wouldn’t it make things weird? you’re my best friend. best friends don’t just kiss.”

you had him there. azriel certainly had never offered this unique service to any of his friends before. “i don’t think it’s weird. i think it makes perfect sense. in fact, it’s weird that we’re not kissing right now. best friends kiss all the time,” the shadowsinger deadpanned.

you snorted. “so you and cassian are just having heated little makeout sessions behind me and nesta’s back?”

azriel winked. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

that earned an earnest little giggle out of you. then you were quiet again, lost in the pros and cons.

pro: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

con: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

what if you were horrible at it? what if you had bad breath? what if you accidentally bit him? what if azriel figured out that you had a pathetic little crush on him and he doesn’t return the feelings and your friendship implodes then you’d have to move back to the dawn court and adopt a bunch of cats just like thesan always teased you about when you were children—

“you’re spiraling.”

you crossed your arms. “am not.”

azriel rolled his eyes fondly. “i can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” his expression softened as he turned over on the couch, his chin perched in one hand. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just…” the bob of an adam’s apple. “i just wanted your first kiss to be with someone who genuinely cares about you.”

that turned your insides into mush. “oh.”

the shadowsinger’s cheeks reddened. “never mind, it sounds silly now that i’ve said it out loud.”

“it’s not,” you said, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “it’s not stupid, az. it’s really sweet, actually.”

your heart hammered inside of your chest as you faced azriel. his hazel eyes glowed golden under the faelights and a warm flush colored his cheeks a rosy tone. from this close, you could make out the constellations of freckles that kissed his nose and cheeks, its traitorous little trail stopping just above his cupid’s bow. you couldn’t help it. your gaze went straight to his lips. they looked soft, sensual, and perfectly kissable. you wondered if he’d taste like sweet wine.

“y/n?” azriel murmured softly.

“hmm?”

“you’re staring.”

your cheeks reddened and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of azriel’s mouth. “you’re the one who brought up kissing,” you countered, raising a brow. “now i can’t stop staring at your stupid lips.”

the shadowsinger’s smirk grew wider. “my stupid lips,” he repeated. “that you want to kiss.”

“no,” you blurted. azriel raised a knowing brow. “yes. maybe.” you shifted awkwardly. “what if i’m terrible at it? what if i accidentally miss? what if i don’t know where to put my hands? oh my gods, what if i accidentally bite you?”

to his credit, there wasn’t an ounce of judgement on azriel’s face. he’d witnessed your outbursts enough times that he wasn’t even fazed by it. the shadowsinger grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles over your knuckles. “one, no one’s first kiss is great. at best, it’s weird and awkward because you’re just trying to figure it out. that’s kind of the point. two, you won’t miss. just follow my lead. three, the neck or waist are generally safe spots to place your hands.” azriel demonstrated by wrapping your arms around his neck. “lastly, i don’t mind if you bite me. in fact, i might enjoy it.” he gave you a cheeky wink that helped dissipate the rest of your anxious worries.

you chuckled softly. leave it to azriel to make you laugh mid freak out. the shadowsinger smiled and cauldron fucking boil you, the sight of it pretty much sealed your fate.

“so,” you murmured, toying with the loose curls at the nape of azriel’s neck. “what now?”

“that’s entirely up to you, love.”

you blinked. once, twice. the smell of cedar and starkissed night. freckles and rosy cheeks. warm, golden eyes that melted your insides like honey. scarred hands that caressed the side of your face with heartbreaking gentleness.

“kiss me, azriel.”

the shadowsinger did not need to be told twice. he tilted your chin, brushing his nose against yours for a brief moment. azriel took a deep breath like he was savoring the moment, like his entire life had been leading up to this. then he kissed you.

his lips were as soft as freshly plucked rose petals and as sweet as the wine that still coated your tongue. they pressed against yours, gentle and exploring as azriel cupped your cheek. you leaned into him and your fingers found purchase in his silky, dark locks as azriel deepened the kiss. his arm snaked across your back as he pulled you into his lap, his mouth never once leaving yours. the sweet innocent pecks did not stay innocent for long.

the shadowsinger groaned as you nestled into him. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t pressed against him, but still you wanted more. your hands moves of their own accord and slipped underneath azriel’s cream sweater. his skin felt like a warm summer day despite the fact that it was currently the dead of winter.

“fuck,” azriel growled into your neck.

you pulled away, startled. it didn’t even occur to you that your fingers were as cold as icicles. “shit. sorry, az i didn’t think—“

you slipped your hands out of his sweater, but azriel caught you by the wrist. “no,” he grunted, his voice dark and low and dangerous. “no, don’t stop.”

it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. even hotter still with the way azriel tugged you to him as though he’d rather die than have you stop touching him. you greedily obliged, taking the lead this time. azriel cursed under his breath as you kissed him again, tangling his curls between your fingers. there was something intoxicating about him—his taste, his touch, his kiss. you couldn’t get enough.

when you finally came up for breath, the shadowsinger looked at you as though he’d been starving for centuries and you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of his hunger. azriel wanted to devour you.

but tonight, he’d settle for a kiss. except, it was anything but.

azriel was fucked.

he blinked, drinking in your lust added gaze and flushed cheeks. you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and it was all he could do to reel himself in. “are…are all first kisses like that?” your voice was hoarse from disuse and utterly sexy.

“no,” azriel answered honestly. “i’ve never had a kiss like that.”

your grin brought out a set of dimples that azriel had long ago deemed as his greatest weaknesses. “and i’ve never had a first kiss, period.”

and you never will again, azriel thought. not if he could help it.

“does that feel good, love?” azriel asked as he pressed a kiss against your collar bone.

you whimpered as his lips trailed between the valley of your breasts. since that first kiss, you and azriel hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other. over the last few weeks, the apprehension you felt about your inexperience slowly started to feel like a blessing in disguise. azriel said you were a fast learner, but only because he was such a great teacher.

“gods,” you breathed, clutching the sheets as azriel continued his descent.

“you can just call me az, you know.”

you rolled your eyes at the cheeky male below you. from this angle, he certainly looked like a god. his hair was a tousled mess, dark curls tangled from where you ran your fingers through it. sweat dripped down his shirtless torso, his golden brown skin glowing in the afternoon light. you were vaguely aware that the sun as setting over the horizon, which meant that the rest of your friends would be arriving for dinner, but neither one of you seemed to care.

during the past few weeks, you and azriel continued your lessons. first base was easy enough to master. the two of you put in plenty of hours sneaking off to make out in azriel’s room, the wine cellar, the training pits, and even in feyre’s art studio at the river house once when things really got desperate. it was a wonder that your friends hadn’t caught you yet. there had been several close calls with cassian. mostly because the male was a nosy busybody.

second base took a little more work. you were terrified at first. you and azriel had been making out in your bed for what seemed like hours before you finally mustered up the courage to slip your hand into his trousers. the shadowsinger made a sound that was half growl and half purr and for a split second you were afraid that you’d hurt him. when you voiced your fears, azriel was quick to reassure you.

“i’m not in pain, love.” azriel said, his voice strained and breathy. “trust me, i feel the complete opposite.”

“tell me how to make you feel good, az.”

the string of curse words that fell from his lips were so filthy that it made you blush. the shadowsinger guided your hand over his cock and you nearly gasped at the impressive length. azriel was hot and hard beneath your touch, his wings flexing as you grasped him in your hand.

“loosen your grip, love.” azriel adjusted your hand, motioning for your fingers to relax and mold against him. you mimicked his movement, eliciting a low rumble out of the shadowsinger. the competitive part of you awakened, eager to make azriel groan like that again. you gazed up at azriel through your lashes with determination. “gods, don’t look at me like that y/n or this lesson will be over before it’s even started.”

heat erupted in your core, but you shook the desire away. this was about azriel. you wanted to make him come undone for once instead of the other way around. “show me, az.” you said. “i want to see how you touch yourself.”

“cauldron boil me,” azriel muttered under his breath. “you’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

you watched as he gripped himself and pumped at a steady pace. he slowed down the movements for you and you studied each flick of his wrist as though you’d be tested on it later. as sinful as it was, there was something heavenly about watching azriel stroke himself. your hands itched to touch him. once you felt confident enough, azriel let you take over.

azriel’s eyes rolled back as you pumped his shaft, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest. his heavy breathing filled the room and it quickly became your favorite sound in the world.

you felt a strange rush of power witnessing azriel in such a vulnerable state. his lids were heavy with lust, golden eyes barely visible from the ring of onyx swallowing up his irises. you thought he looked pretty like this, his head tilted back against your headboard while his lips parted to release a shallow breath every now and then.

"you have no idea how good that feels, love." azriel grunted. you tightened your grip, spreading the bead of precum over his tip. your little improvisation was met with a moan that seeped into your bones.

"how good, az?" you teased.

those long lashes of his kissed the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered close. "fucking amazing," azriel declared. "keep going, love. don't stop, please. gods—"

"you can just call me y/n, you know."

azriel growled in response before pulling you in for a heated kiss. his hips thrust up to match your pace as his tongue parted your lips. he swallowed your moans, devouring you like his life depended on it.

“just like that, love.” azriel said in appreciation. “you’re doing such a good job, y/n.”

the praise affected you more than you thought it would. you were always seeking positive feedback when it came to your work, especially in training, but this was something else. it only encouraged you to keep going at a faster pace until azriel was coming undone in your hands. the sight of him losing control would forever be etched in your mind.

the more azriel gave, the more you craved. not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. the whole thing may have started as a practical way to tackle sex, but as time went on, it started to evolve into something else entirely.

until the lessons weren’t really just lessons anymore.

if you had to pinpoint the moment when everything changed, it would have been a few days after winter solstice. azriel had been away for a mission and was unable to make it home for the festivities. throughout the night, you kept finding yourself fidgeting and glancing at the empty seat beside you. at one point during dinner, cassian squeezed your hand and smiled sadly.

“i’m sure he misses you too, y/n.”

the gravity of those words hit you full force when you found azriel standing in the doorway of your flat. he was still dressed in his combat leathers and dark circles formed underneath his eyes as though he’d flown nonstop from wherever he was to get back home. before you could stop yourself, you rushed at him and nearly knocked him into the street from the force of your hug.

“i know, love.” azriel murmured softly into your hair. “i missed you, too.”

one bath and two cups of hot chocolate later, you found yourself curled up on the sofa as snow fell softly against the windowpane. you set your drink down on the table and turned to face azriel.

“so, i was thinking…”

the corner of azriel’s mouth quirked. “that’s never good.”

you tossed a pillow at him and rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson, for once.”

the shadowsinger looked intrigued by that. “oh yeah? and what do you want to teach me, love?”

“i’m going to teach you how to sleep, az.” you pointedly stared at his bruised eyes, which only made him chuckle in amusement. “because judging from those bags underneath your eyes, you’re no expert in the matter.”

“i don’t get a say in this, do i?” shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too yearned for rest.

“nope,” you said cheerfully, dragging him off the couch and into your bedroom.

azriel let you bully him into getting underneath the covers. he tucked his wings to the side as he faced you. “what’s so great about this thing you call sleep, then? seems pretty boring to me.”

“well if you’d let me demonstrate,” you said impatiently before tugging him towards you. azriel chuckled and scooted closer. “i’ll have you know i’m a world class cuddler.”

“yeah? prove it then, love.” azriel teased.

the shadowsinger watched in amusement as you bossed him around. first you made him lie on his stomach and then pulled him to your chest. as much as he enjoyed teasing the absolute hell out of you, he couldn’t help but murmur in satisfaction as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. even his shadows seemed to enjoy bathing in your warmth and breathing in your jasmine shampoo.

“mmm,” az mumbled sleepily. for the first time in gods knew how long, he felt warm and safe and content. “you’re bossy as hell, but comfy too.”

“i know, you stubborn giant bat baby.”

the shadowsinger snorted. “giant bat baby?”

you rolled your eyes fondly. “shut up and cuddle, az.”

azriel burrowed himself further until his body heat warmed every inch of your skin. “that’s the good stuff,” he declared, brushing a soft kiss against your collarbone.

“told you i was good,” you said with a smile. azriel couldn’t even argue. with your hands massaging his scalp and your legs intertwined with his, the shadowsinger would’ve agree to anything you said.

“the best,” he hummed against your skin.

this was dangerous territory. with your other lessons, it was easy to shove aside your feelings because pleasure made it hard to think about anything else. but with azriel laying on your chest and clinging onto you like this meant something more…you could no longer avoid that pesky voice of doubt.

you were in love with azriel.

you had been for a long time.

shit.

“y/n?” azriel asked, cutting through the turmoil of your thoughts. his wings draped over the sides of your bed, relaxed and at ease.

“yeah?”

his golden eyes found yours in the dark. for a second, he stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. the shadowsinger opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled.

“good night, love.”

in that moment, you knew azriel had your heart in the palm of his hand. “good night, az.”

azriel knew it was only a matter of time before these lessons came back to bite him on the ass.

he had been so eager that first night. mostly because he'd had a crush on you for so long and it was finally time to do something about it. the shadowsinger knew that he probably should've just told you how he felt, but he didn't want to shatter this delicate thing between you.

after all, these were just lessons. for all he knew, he was just your practice partner. it wasn't really all that different from sparring. except your weapons where your lips and your hands and your fucking smile that made his heart skip a beat every time you so much as grinned at him from across the room.

gods, he was so fucked.

the reality of it didn't fully hit him until that disastrous spring night.

the two of you had perfected third base eons ago. azriel knew how to make you cum with his mouth using a combination of expert tongue flicks and help from his shadows. nothing brought him joy like your shaking legs greedily wrapping around him as he ate your pussy like a man starved.

azriel thought he found the key to happiness until you returned the favor and went down on him.

finding restraint was hard. reeling his desire in while you knelt before him with your lips wrapped around his cock was nearly impossible.

"like this?" you asked, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. azriel thought he was going to come right then and there when you looked up at him through your lashes, determination burning in your gaze.

you had always been intense. azriel knew that much from months of training together, but he didn't expect you to approach sex with the same competitiveness. you put your all into everything you did, which is what made azriel fall for you in the first place. he just didn't think you'd take the same approach when it came to sucking his dick. not that he was complaining.

in fact, all he could really do was moan.

the shadowsinger attempted to pull it together long enough to utter a coherent sentence. he had to at least attempt to say something helpful. you were putting your trust in him. he liked knowing that he'd been your first everything. now he just had to muster up the courage to tell you that he also intended to be the last.

he tried. he really did.

that night in his room. laying in bed with your legs tangled together. the soft spring breeze billowing through your curtains. azriel watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned towards him.

"so, what now?" you asked.

azriel's brows furrowed with confusion. "what do you mean, love?"

you tilted your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you mulled over what to say next. it was one of your many little quirks that azriel adored. "i mean, what happens now? we've pretty much covered all the bases. except for one."

sex. you hadn't had sex yet. azriel knew this would come up sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be the latter. while it was easy to pretend that the lessons were just lessons to him, azriel couldn't do that with sex. it had always been hard for him to separate his feelings from the physical act and as much as he wanted to make sure that your first experience would be with someone who loved you, it wouldn't be fair to have sex without telling you the truth.

"i don't think that would be a good idea." as soon as the words left his mouth, azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. he could tell that much from the look on your face. "i just mean, we shouldn't rush into anything."

"rush?" you asked incredulously. "azriel, we've spent the last three months doing anything and everything under the sun except sex."

"and it's been great," azriel said, trying to reel the conversation back in. "the lessons. trusting each other. but i just think you should take a step back and consider if you're truly ready."

that intense gaze he loved so much suddenly felt like the sweltering sun that azriel couldn't wait to shy away from. "you were my first kiss, az. my first everything. i think i've made it pretty clear on where i stand." you paused for a second, scanning his face. "oh my gods. i didn't even think to ask if you wanted this."

you were up before the absurdity of that statement could sink into azriel. if he wanted this? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.

"they were just lessons," you murmured to yourself while gathering your clothes. “how could i be so stupid?”

"y/n, please." azriel pleaded, not entirely believing what he was hearing. he nearly tripped over his own bedsheets as he followed you across the room.

“no, az. i’m sorry, i thought—“ your eyes brimmed with tears. the sight broke his fucking heart. “it’s not your fault. i just assumed—“

“that i’m in love with you?” azriel asked, gently gripping your wrists. you froze, wide eyes pinning azriel in place. “because i am, you know. i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. this past few months, it’s killed me to pretend that whatever this is between us is just lessons.”

your gaze softened. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”

azriel chuckled bitterly. “because i’m a coward. i was scared that you might not feel the same way, so i settled for whatever scraps you were willing to give me.”

tears filled your eyes again and azriel was scared he’d fucked it up again, but you wiped your cheeks and cupped his face. “you deserve more than that, azriel.”

“i know, love.” he bowed his head. “and you deserve more than just lessons. that’s why i don’t want to have sex. not unless you know what this means to me. if we do this, there will be no one else. not today, not ever. i may be your first, but i also intend to be your last. if you’ll let me.”

a stray tear fell down your cheek, but it was a happy one this time. “if you haven’t noticed, i’m totally crazy about you, az. i think i’ve been in love with you longer than i wanted to admit.”

“can’t blame you,” the shadowsinger said. “i’m totally lovable.”

you smacked him in the chest, but azriel only laughed before he kissed you. really kissed you. it felt like you were floating on air.

gods, you loved him. you really did.

you smiled into the kiss. “i love you, az.”

the shadowsinger kissed the tip of your nose. “i love you too, y/n.”

“so…no more lessons, right?”

azriel shook his head and scooped you into his arms. “no more lessons. i want the real thing this time.”

#friends and family we are gathered here today to fucking YEARN #i missed az and i m back with a bang #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Take Care of Me Chapter 2: Remember when?

Chapter mood board:

Chapter word count: 10.2K (I'm sorry I was on a roll lol)

Chapter warnings: Cursing, trauma, tox relationships, toxic men, emotional abuse, gaslighting, abandonment, family issues, pregnancy, Seonghwa was NOT a good person in the past sorry lol

Smut warning: Masturbation, kissing, assisted masturbation, use of sex toy, oral sex (Fem recieving), cum eating, squirting, begging, breast play, fingering, heavy yearning, tipsy sex mentioned

Minors DNI

Chapter Playlist

This had to be a joke, right? No way was this real life. No way was the guy that was just knuckles deep in your pussy 2 days prior standing at your doorstep about to become your new caretaker. You stood there silently then Jonathan spoke again.

"Is everything okay Ms. Y/N ? Were we disturbing you, because if so, we can come back later."

"Um...no I just, thought your nephew looked familiar at first but nope I've never met him ha-ha." You said frantically "I'm working from home today so I'll be around to help your nephew so you can head back Jonathan." Thank goodness you had the option to work from home or from the office when you so pleased. When Rina originally told you about this you didn't really care since you spend the day doing the same boring thing but, in your PJs, instead of work clothes which sounded worse.

"You're all dressed up though Miss, are you sure?"

"Yes, yes we'll be fine, Wooyoung come in."

Wooyoung continued to smile as he stepped past his uncle into the house.

"Uncle John I'll be fine; I'm sure Ms. Y/N will help me with everything I'll need."

Jonathan’s face became relieved, he was afraid that the two of you wouldn't get along, but your warm facade has tricked him good, he waves the both of you off and leaves, you and Wooyoung see him off with a smile then you close the door.

Wooyoung softly bites his lips and pushes you into the door.

"Well princess looks like I got you to myself once again, shall we finish what we started that night?"

You slowly pushed him back.

"Yeah no, that's not what's going to happen, why the hell are you here?"

"My uncle didn't tell you? He needed a replacement and I just mo-"

"Yes, Jonathan told me, but it still doesn't explain why the guy that I did that kind of thing with is now my caretaker."

"Oh, you mean because we were about to fuck?”

You shook your head at Wooyoungs vulgarness, trying to wake yourself up from this dream or nightmare.

“Look, I’m not sure how long this is going to be the arrangement but starting today we are going to forget that that night ever happened okay?”

Wooyoung once again smiled with his foxlike face and stepped back putting his hands up in a surrendering pose.

“Fine Beautiful, I’ll play along.”

“Thank you-“

“Though it sure will be hard for me to forget how good you taste.”

“Sh-shut up, and it’s not playing along, this is nothing more than a professional relationship got it?”

You started to get a bit flustered, you needed Jonathan the sweet old man to hurry the hell up and get back. You sigh and gather back up your work bag and head over to the door.

“Where are you off to lovely?” Wooyoung said while picking up Mister.

“I’m going to work still, and enough with the nicknames, I told you this is a strictly professional relationship.”

Wooyoung giggled at you.

“Right, professional, have a good day at work boss.”

You walked out the door and headed to your car, instead of heading into the office you decided to go over to Rinas house since most of the days during the week she worked from home while Hongjoong was home and not traveling. You got to her front door and knocked, when the door opened you expected it to be your long-term friend but instead was greeted by your favorite frenemy, Hongjoong.

“Y/N, what’s up?”

“Hello, is Rina here?”

“No, she ran to the store, but her car shut off, I’m on my way out to grab her but she is the only one with a house key since I lost mine. You wouldn’t so happen to have the spare one she gave you, would you?”

“Oh no I don’t I leave that at home in my drawer.”

Hongjoong sighed and said, “Of course you do.” Under his breath.

“Look, do you mind just waiting here at the house until I get back with her? Then you two can have all the girl talks in the world.”

Hongjoong was kind of a dick but unlike his brother he was open and honest with his ways, he is the kind of guy that’s only nice to his mom and his girlfriend, which you kind of respected. Even Hongjoong and Seonghwa didn’t always get along, Hongjoong being the honest and blunt one while Seonghwa could lie and convince an orange that its purple. Hongjoong never liked his brothers’ sneaky ways, but he was always going to stick beside him because that is his brother, and he always puts family first. When Seonghwa told Hongjoong that you two had broken up because you didn’t support his dreams and because you were a selfish whore Hongjoong immediately knew that his brother wasn’t telling the full truth, however Hongjoong did watch his brother spiral into a deep depression the entire week before he left for Europe. He was so afraid Seonghwa would do something stupid while he was away all because you broke his heart. Ever since then he was convinced that you broke up with his brother because you were probably just hurt that he was leaving because he knew you to be clingy to Seonghwa. He didn’t know you were clingy because Seonghwa made you feel like he was all you had in this world. You never bothered trying to explain everything to Hongjoong because the next time that you seen him, him and Rina had started dating, you’d much rather not stir the pot between the two of them and just left him hating you as is.

“Yeah, sure I’ll wait here.”

You walked in with your laptop bag and Hongjoong left out, you figured you’d get some work done while you waited. About 45 minutes goes by and you hear a car pull into the driveway, you thought that that was fast and was just happy that Rina was okay. You didn’t hear a second car or a tow truck, so you assumed that the couple had Rina’s car taken to a mechanic. You continued to work then the door unlocked and opened you were seated in the living room and got up to head over to welcome your friend home in the cute way you two usually do.

“My love you’ve returned home safely.”

You entered the foyer of the house and your eyes got wide, the person that had entered your friend’s house was Seonghwa he was taking off his shoes and looked at you with his gorgeous smile.

“Well, hello dear, thank you for the warm welcome.”

“Seonghwa, I-I thought you were Rina…”

“Aw well that sucks, and here I was getting all warm inside hearing you call me your love again.”

The embarrassment hit you like a ten-ton truck but all you could do is move forward.

“Right, sorry about that, have you heard from your brother and Rina?”

You said walking back to the living room to sit down and calm your embarrassment, you picked your laptop back up and continued to work. Seonghwa followed you into the living room and sat next to you giving you some space on the couch so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, they said they were waiting on AAA to come and see what the issue was with the car.”

Silence filled the room because you didn’t want the conversation to continue and you and your ex end up the same way you were in the club on Saturday, gazing into each other’s eyes and you losing your self-control.

“What are you working on on your laptop?”

“I’m just getting caught up on this project from work.”

“Ah, I see, Rina tells me you and her work at the same marketing firm, and you have a really high up position, I’m happy for you Y/N.”

 “Thank you.”

“…She also told me that you told her that we broke up because we “Couldn’t see eye to eye” about me going to Europe.” He said with finger quotes.

You again chose to stay quiet on the matter, what were you meant to say to that statement? “Yeah, I lied so everyone doesn’t know that you’re an asshole?”. You felt like there was no right or wrong answer to that, so you stayed silent while typing on your laptop. Seonghwa accepted your silence and waited for a moment before swallowing and continuing.

“She told me that when we broke up you were devastated for a while and shut yourself out…she said that you really missed me and have only dated one person since we broke up and you changed a lot of yourself.”

God dammit Rina how much did you tell this guy? This was just something you had to deal with honestly, Rina was a hopeless romantic that only wanted everyone she loved to have a love story too. You loved her harmless attempts at making sure you find the love of your life, a year after you and Seonghwa broke up she started setting you up on blind dates, with either guys she met at the diner, guys at the office or one time even one of Hongjoongs friends. Yeosang from work thought he had to go on the date, or he was going to be fired, but once you explained he had a choice he let you know he wasn’t interested, Mingi, Hongjoongs friend was loud and flashy, your exact opposite, he ghosted you after 2 weeks and told Hongjoong you were kind of boring. Then the guy from the diner, Yunho, He was sweet and actually stuck for a bit, you two started to casually date, even got as far as you two having sex twice then he told you that he felt like your heart wasn’t in the relationship, turns out he just wanted to get back with his ex. After that you told Rina to stop trying to set you up and that you’d find a guy when the time came. 2 years later and you’re sitting here with your ex, days after letting a stranger that ended up being your caretaker finger you until you couldn’t see straight. Wow, what an awesome love life indeed. Closing your laptop, it’s no running from this conversation anymore, you had to deal with this now.

“Yeah Seonghwa, I did take our breakup hard how else was I supposed to feel.”

“You know we didn’t have to break up though Y/N.”

You rolled your neck and shook your head.

“We didn’t? So, tell me what choice did I have? It was either stay with you and throw away the years I spent working on my future or break up.”

“You’re right…and I was wrong for making you choose between me and finishing school, but we could have worked something out.”

“Yet instead of working something out, you chose to berate me one last time before flying thousands miles away.”

He looked down as he recalled the things he said to you that day, Seonghwa then and Seonghwa now were 2 very different people. When Seonghwa flew to Europe he was still hurt about you breaking up with him, but he had to keep moving forward, about a week later he started his internship and got to work. He made friends and life went was going well, he started to meet new people, new business connections and best of all new women. He started the cycle of meeting women, sleeping with them, and disposing of them when they no longer piqued his interest. When that got boring, he wanted to try to take someone seriously he started to date a woman by the name of Alice, a very beautiful European woman he met during his internship, she did whatever he said and didn’t fight or question him. He even accepted a job at the company he interned for just so he could stay, but then the time passed, and he felt like something was missing. Alice didn’t make him happy; she slept with him and did everything for him, but the feel just wasn’t there, she just wasn’t you. During the most recent year he felt himself start to become bored of his life. A good paying job, a nice apartment, a dog, a beautiful woman, yet none of this compared to the feeling that he got when he was with you. He decided to see a therapist after him and Alice got into a fight and he called her your name, he realized that he hadn’t changed and needed to see someone about it.

After many sessions, Seonghwa knew what he had to do, he asked his brother about you and when Hongjoong refused to help you get back together, he knew his next step was to tell Rina that he was coming home to get you back. He flew in the day before and arrived at his brother’s house that night. He exclaimed that he needed to get his baby back and nothing could stop him. When he saw you sitting there in V.I.P all alone all he wanted to do was run over and kiss you and tell you how sorry he was and that he loved you, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He knew that this would require time and effort and hard work to get you back. When he spoke to you, hearing your voice again made him see heaven, his earth angel sitting right in front of him yet so far out of reach. He was determined to make you his once again, even if that meant proving to you that he was a changed man.

“Y/N, the things I said that day, they weren’t right and I’m sorry, you never deserved to have to deal with how I treated you all those years and I understand why you probably hate me, but I’ve changed really I have-“

As Seonghwa was talking the front door swung open and Rina burst into the living room.

“Ah, my eggy, my love, my queen you were here waiting for me to come home like a good wife.” She ran over to jump on you and hug, as she nestled into you, she looked over and realized that Seonghwa was there too, that’s when the heavy tension in the room hit her like a sack of bricks.

“Oh- sorry was I interrupting something?” She said as her eyes darted between you too.

Hongjoong walked in carrying Rinas shopping bags, looking annoyed and tired.

“Don’t be ridiculous Rina this is our house.” 

"Joongie stop being mean!"

He drops the bags by the door and enters the living room, huffing and puffing from having to lug all of Rinas shopping bags in.

"What do you have a tracking device on her or something? Why are you here all of a sudden Hwa?"

He said sternly.

"Hey that's not nice HJ, for all you know I could be here to see my favorite baby brother."

"1 I'm a grown man drop the baby and two we both know that’s a lie, what is it?"

"Joongie, you're being rude, stop it."

You looked around the room a bit confused, you felt tension in the room other then you and Seonghwas. Little did you know that Hongjoong and Seonghwa were not on the best terms. Prior to Seonghwa flying back home he called his brother that he only talked to 3 times a month to tell him how he wants to fly home just to get you back. Hongjoong had 2 issues with the plan though, 1 it involved you and 2 it was going to be a waste of time. Hongjoong hated wasted time or unnecessary efforts, he was a realist, if it didn't make sense to do why do it? He understood putting in efforts for love, he tried his damnedest to be home as much as possible to be with Rina. However, you and Seonghwa weren't him and Rina, you were two people that just shouldn't be together.  He just wanted you two to get over each other and move on, because that was better for everyone involved, that was healthier for everyone involved. Liked you or not he didn't want Seonghwa to hurt you again just as much as he didn't want his brother being hurt by you again.

"Listen Hongjoong, I'm just here to congratulate you two, I'm happy for you."

Your concerned looked turned to a puzzled one, congratulate them for what?

Rina got up and hit Hongjoong in the shoulder.

"Joongie, you told them already; I was going to wait for the ultrasound pictures, ugh why do I spend all that time showing you Pinterest boards."

"Ultrasounds?" you whispered to yourself.

"Ultrasounds? I meant congrats on the engagement, Rina, I didn't know you were pregnant."

"Engagement?" your eyebrows was arched as you stood up feeling like you're the most confused one in the room of mixed emotions.

"En...gagment?" Rina said, seemingly in a state of shock.

Hongjoong stood there staring at his brother in pure anger, he knew Seonghwa only said this to take the heat off himself, he sighed and rolled his eyes while shaking his head, not much to do but commit now.

"Yeah Ri, engagement." He walked off to the back room that they converted into a studio for Hongjoong to work from home and he came back with a small velvet box. He got down on one knee and you were speechless, what the hell is going on today?

"Rina, Marry me, okay?"

Rina was more speechless than you, she just stood in silence then timber she falls backwards, you swiftly moved in to catch her from behind while the two brothers stood in shock. You moved her over to the couch and laid her down.

"I'll go get her some water." Seonghwa said as he rushed to the kitchen.

Hongjoong walked over and kneeled to be by Rinas side.

"Careful with her stomach, she’s pregnant."

And there it was, the confirmation, your best friend was pregnant and became a fiancé all at once, well technically almost fiancé but the logistics don't matter right now. Rina started to come too, her site blurry and she started to get up while holding her head.

"Careful baby, take your time." Hongjoong said holding Rinas other hand.

"Joongie, was it a dream or did you really ask me to marry you?"

"It's true baby, I want you to marry me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and knowing that you have my baby in your belly right now just makes me want to be with you forever. I love you, Rina."

Hongjoong really loved Rina and it made you smile, if a hard ass like him can find love and figure it out maybe you could too. Rina hugged you and cried on your shoulders.

"Eggy, I'm getting married."

You slightly laughed at Rina and rubbed her back.

"I know Rina but I'm not the one you should be hugging right now and give Hongjoong a proper answer."

She released you then wiped some of her tears as she turned back to Hongjoong.

"Of course, I'll marry you Joongie I love you so much." She lounged and knocked him down on his butt as she continued to cry into his shoulders.

Seonghwa came back with the water and set it down on the coffee table. You took this moment as your time to head back home, you started to gather your things and headed toward the door, once you put your shoes on you Seonghwa was right behind you.

"Let me walk you out."

"Actually Hwa, hang back I have to talk to you." Hongjoong said from the living room. You chose not to get involved and left the house to go home.

"Rina, how about you go upstairs to wash up so I can take you out to celebrate."

Rina once again wiped her tears and nodded her head, looking almost child-like. She got up and headed upstairs to fix herself up and scream at becoming a fiancé. Hongjoong got up and as Seonghwa walked back into the room Hongjoong pushed him.

"Dude what is your fucking problem? I told you if you're going to really pursue Y/N again don't let it affect me and Rina. Why would you say something about me proposing? And don't say something dumb like you really thought I already did it."

"I know I shouldn't have, I'm sorry HJ but I didn't want Y/N knowing I was only here for her, I needed it be seem random."

"So you reveal my plans to propose to cover yourself? I thought you said you changed."

"I have but sometimes even trained dogs can pee on carpets." Seonghwa said shrugging his shoulders because he was out of excuses.

"Fuck you Hwa, don't do it again."

Hongjoong sat down on the couch and relaxed his tense body.

"Didn't you and Y/N fuck again already, how are you still trying to win her back."

"No we haven't done anything yet, but god I'd love too, do you see how she's built now?"

"Wait, if you and her weren't fucking, what happened to you two on Saturday?"

"We took one shot then she ran off to go to the bathroom."

"That’s weird, when she came back, she had this really fucked out expression on her face and her hair was kind of messed up. She said she had gotten sick from the drinks, but her face and behavior said otherwise."

Seonghwa scoffed at his brothers’ accusations.

"As if Y/N would fuck some guy at the club over fucking me, your trust issues are showing little bro."

"Maybe, but that doesn't explain where the hell you went."

Seonghwa sat down at the other end of the couch and scratched his head.

"Weellll about that, you know Rina’s friend Yuna? Well when she said she had to leave early because she forgot to feed her cat she actually took me back to her place and well."

He shrugged his shoulders in a comical way.

"Wait I thought you came here for Y/N, why are you banging other chicks, and why the hell would you fuck someone else in the friend group?"

Hongjoong said as he slow panned toward his brother. No matter how hard he tried he just could not understand what could possibly be going on in his brother’s mind.

"Hear me out okay, when Y/N left VIP, Yuna came over to get another drink and we introduced ourselves, I made sure she had no ties with Y/N, and it was smooth from there. Just because I'm pursuing Y/N doesn't mean I can't get my rocks off too."

Hongjoong shook his head once again.

"Whatever man, I'm going to get dressed so I can take my Fiancé out, once again thanks a lot dick, are you staying here?"

"No, but I'd love it if you gave me Y/Ns address so I can finish talking to her."

"Come on with the creepy shit Hwa, and why should I help you after today?"

"Come on bro, help your big brother out, I would hate for Rina to find out what happened when you came to visit me a year ago in Europe."

Hongjoongs eyes got wide as he was reminded of the horrible mistake he had made when he went to Europe to visit his brother. Rina and Hongjoong were on a small "break" because they weren't seeing eye to eye, during the break they agreed to not see anyone else and wait for each other. To help get over the small heart break Seonghwa invited his brother and some of their mutual friends to hang out with him in Europe. They partied, drank, and enjoyed their time there, on the last night Seonghwa invited a girl he was talking to at the time to his apartment told her to bring some friends. Her and her friends came and at first Hongjoong wasn't into it, he just wanted to be home with his Rina, one of the girls came to sit next to him and asked him why he looked so sad. Hongjoong normally wouldn't open up to people he doesn't know but 2 beers in you would do a lot. 1 conversation about how Rina is wrong and Hongjoong should be with a woman that does whatever he says and 4 beers later Hongjoong was putty in the girls’ hands. He was tipsy but he was coherent, he knew what he was doing and woke up the next day regretting it. Little did he know it was his own brother that organized this, he told his lady friend to bring a girl specifically for Hongjoong, he told her to go over and talk to him and even gave her a condom. He made sure his brother was drunk and could still consent and when he saw them leave the living room and go down the hall, he knew his plan worked.

It was nothing against Rina or the relationship, he just was a miserable person. You and him didn't work out, none of his other relationships worked out, why should anyone get to be happy when he couldn't. Looking back Seonghwa regrets letting it happen, but he still utilized the situation in this moment because in his logic, desperate times calls for desperate measures.

"Fine...but this is the last thing I'll help you with in this whole dumbass situation." Hongjoong said as he pulled out his phone and sent Seonghwa your address.

Seonghwa smiled as the notification noise dinged on his phone, he headed to the door.

"Thanks baby bro."

Once he left, he was on his way to you.

Meanwhile at your house, you pulled into your driveway and just sat there thinking about everything that has happened today. Your new caretaker has made you cum, your ex that made that caused you major trauma is back home and trying to prove he has changed, and your best friend was pregnant and engaged? This was the most eventful Monday you've ever experienced. As you're decompressing in your car Wooyoung comes out and knocks on your car window.

"Welcome home boss, you okay?"

You sighed.

"Yeah, I'm fine, how was everything here?"

"It was fine, Mister is in the back playing and dinner is ready."

You looked at Wooyoung confused and checked your apple watch on your wrist, you now see that it was going on 6pm, you didn't even finish your work for the day but at least you're going into the office tomorrow.

"Wait dinner is ready? What did you order?"

"Yeah, my uncle says you like to order dinner from the same place every night but that’s gotta be boring after a while, so I just made something."

You grabbed your laptop bag and got out of the car and started to walk to the door.

"Look Wooyoung, I know you're supposed to be your uncle’s replacement but that doesn't mean I want you changing my routines."

You opened the door and walked into your home; an amazing smell of food hit your nose.

"I know but routines are no fun, besides won't you feel loved if you have a sexy man such as myself waiting with a hot cooked meal for you every day."

You turned to Wooyoung, and he winked at you. You looked around the house and was shocked to see everything still in one piece. You walked over to the kitchen and saw a pot on the stove. You removed the lid, and the smell of the dish made you want to dive into it and start swimming.

"That's Jjigae, it’s like a stew we make back home in Korea."

"...it smells good."

He brushed past you to get a bowl and a spoon.

"Go sit, I'll make you a bowl."

You sat down in your usual seat on the couch as he started to plate the food. When he came out, he stopped.

"No boss sit at the table."

You got up and sat at the table, Wooyoung put the bowl down in front of you and gave you your utensils. You thanked him for the meal and started to eat.

"Wow this is good, did you make this?"

He smiled at you as you enjoyed the food.

"Yeah, my mom taught me how to cook because she said she didn't want me to be useless when I get married."

"Well, she taught you well."

While you finished Wooyoung let Mister in the house, and you cleaned your dish in the sink, you decided to get changed into your usual lounge clothing of shorts and a sweatshirt with your college on it. When you returned to the living room Wooyoung was gathering his items to head home.

"Wait I don't hear your uncle outside, where are you going?"

"Oh, yeah I'm taking the bus home."

He looked over too you as he put his bookbag over his shoulders and started to put his shoes on.

"Well, I deposited your money into the account that your uncle gave me."

"You can cancel that, send it to my uncle still he needs it more than me."

"Wait but what will you do for money? Your uncle told me you needed this job for honest work."

"Aww boss are you worried about little ol' me? Seeing you in those shorts is already getting a rise out of me."

He shot a flirty smile your way and you won't lie it made your heart flutter a bit, damn was he handsome.

"N-no, I'm just making sure doing this job is worth it."

"Don't worry beautiful coming to see you every day is very worth it, plus I have my job at the club. I do more than finger sexy women in distress."

You met Wooyoung at the door to let him out and just as you were about to open the door, there was a knock. Who could that possibly be?

You opened your door to see Seonghwa with a small bouquet, great 2 guys that have been with you intimately in one room, just what every girl dreams of.

"Seonghwa?" you said in a shocked voice. How the hell did he even get your address.

"Y/N, are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about something." As he was looking at you, he looked up from you and saw the young man behind you.

"Who's this Y/N?" He asked instead of introducing himself, a sense of possessiveness washed over Seonghwa.

You turned to face Wooyoung and stuck your hand out to introduce him.

"This is Wooyoung, he's my caretaker, he helps around the house with my plants and dog and stuff."

Wooyoung gave Seonghwa a fake smile and wave, he remembered that name, that was the ex that made it possible for him to meet you that night.

"Hi, I'm Wooyoung"

"Seonghwa, Y/N can I have a moment with you...alone?"

Wooyoung walked past Seonghwa and out of the door.

"Don't you worry, I was just leaving, See you tomorrow Y/N, and Seonghwa, thanks for all your help."

He walked down the walkway and Seonghwa walked in and shut the door, confused on what the last part of Wooyoungs sentence meant, meanwhile it made you even more flustered.

“I got you these, I hope you still like carnations, I know they are your favorite.”

He handed you the bouquet, you took the beautiful flowers from him and with a slanted lip.

“My favorite flowers are peonies, but yeah come in I guess.”  You said as you walked over to the kitchen to grab you and him some water.

“Have a seat on the couch, I’m assuming you came here to talk to me?”

“You know me so well.” He said as he took a seat on the couch, Mister came over to sniff him.

“You got a dog and he’s black just like mine was when I lived in Europe.”

You walked back over with two cold bottles of water and handed on to him as you sat down, you were confused by his statement.

“What do you mean when you lived in Europe? Don’t you still live in Europe?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath and exhaled, he needed to lay everything out on the table now.

“Look Y/N, I’m going to get this all out now, I love you more then you know, hell more than even I know… how I treated you when we were together was not okay at all and I can’t ever excuse my actions and if I had the ability to take them back I would, but I can’t. That’s why I’m here now, here to say…”

He paused, he was hesitant about what his next words should be, but he couldn’t risk coming all this way for nothing, Seonghwa wanted his girl back.

“To say what Hwa?”

“To say…I need you back Y/N. I sat in Europe for these past years regretting letting you go, I had to come back for you, I packed up and got a job in town and found an apartment. I want us to work Y/N, there is no one out there for me except you.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, was this really happening? This wasn’t some kind of dream or nightmare. Maybe you could pinch yourself to see if you would wake up. Was the man you spent 4 years of your life loving unconditionally sitting her asking for you back after breaking your heart and leaving you behind?

Prior to Seonghwa leaving for Europe, back when you started your Senior year of college, things had become a bit rocky in the relationship. Your schedule had lightened up since you took on extra classes in the summer so you could spend as much time as possible with your boyfriend, Seonghwa had gotten a small job working for a local company and an apartment that was 45 minutes away from campus. He never bothered trying to come see you on campus because he was “Too busy with work” or “too tired from work.” He did however find the energy to come on campus to go to parties that he never told you he attended, usually Rina or your other friends would tell you he was there and would be shocked that you didn’t know. He would tell you that wasn’t him or that he was only stopping by to see a friend. It’s not like you could attend the parties to even know if he was there, you stopped going to parties after Seonghwa saw one too many guys eyeing you in a skirt you just bought, which he said it was your fault for wearing it just for attention. This didn’t stop you or drive you away though, not even the many times you’d wait hours and hours for his text or calls. The text would be short and dry, and the calls were mostly silence and you telling him you missed him. Occasionally you would take the bus to his apartment to see him, the bus ride turning the 45-minute drive to a 2 hour one with 1 train and 2 buses. You had picked up an on-campus job as a lab assistant and started saving up for a car just so you could see Seonghwa. When the time finally came for you to buy a car after 3 months of eating ramen and saving you got an old car that could get you from point A to point B, nothing fancy. From there you started to see Seonghwa a lot more since he didn’t have a car he would ask you for rides, having you drive him around from time to time, to on campus parties and even to work sometimes, you’d ask if you could get a key to go back to his apartment to finish sleeping until your afternoon classes and he said he didn’t want you to lose it.

One night you were on the way to pick Seonghwa to go to a huge party that was happening on campus, you were all dressed up since this was one of the rare occasions Seonghwa chose to not be upset about you showing skin. While you were driving your car started to violently shake, you pulled over and the car stopped completely unable to turn back on. You called your insurance company to get the car towed and called Seonghwa afterward.

“Hey, baby my car stopped and had to get towed, so I can’t pick you up, could you possibly get me an uber or something to pick me up? I’m about 15 minutes away still.”

You could hear him pause then sigh.

“Y/N I have bills now that I’m on my own, I can’t spend money on getting you rides, that’s why I get rides from you.”

“But…I’m here by myself and the last of the money I had went toward gas to pick you up.”

“Don’t do that, don’t make this my fault, you could have easily told me no, no one told you to spend the last of your money.”

“Seonghwa I can’t ride with the tow truck driver because my car is being taken to a shop, so could you please just come get me so I’m not alone on the street?”

You started to get upset and hurt that you even had to ask twice, and you started to elevate your tone.

“Y/N, you’re yelling at me and it’s not helping me or you, I guess I’ll be the mature one and talk to you tomorrow when you calm down.”

Before you could respond he hung up, leaving you there in the cold night. You felt the tears well up in your eyes as they started to stream down your cheeks, ruining the make-up you did for the night. You had to end up calling Rina to come pick you up and take you back to your dorm, you skipped going to the party all around and stayed home in bed in the dark. When you were watching snapchat videos you saw one of the girls from your marketing class, she was taking pictures of everyone and there he was, Seonghwa in the back with a drink in his hand. So now as your sitting here on your couch listening to the same man that left you there that night on the street, the same selfish person that left you in America alone, the same selfish bastard that didn’t even bother contacting you until now, ask for you back. You sat there, frozen in shock, what was there to say? The most logical answer was to tell him to go to hell and kick him out your house…but you weren’t a logical person. The feelings you felt for Seonghwa were real and true, you never experienced something so intense in your life, never had this kind of love for someone. You were already 28 and Seonghwa was your only real relationship.

“So…what do you say Y/N?”

“Seonghwa…I don’t know…I-“

Your statement was interrupted by your front door opening, that’s when you noticed that it was raining cats and dogs outside, there was mentions of a rain and thunderstorm on the radio but there was so much going on today you completely forgot. Both your heads turned to see the reason the door opened; it was Wooyoung soaking wet.

“Sorry to interrupt Boss but, I forgot to give you back your house key so I started walking back and wouldn’t ya know it, it started raining.” He walked into the house and closed the door not actually caring that he was interrupting you two. He didn’t have respect for Seonghwa because even though he didn't know him but what he did know about him, lead him to believe he wasn’t going to gain respect for him. “Could I stay here till the storm calms down?” You shook out your stunned state and got up.

“Sorry Seonghwa maybe you should head home for now, so you aren’t caught up when the storm gets worse.”

He signed, in that moment he wanted to just hear you say yes to him, he was tired of being interrupted and tired of you running but he knew that his time would come, he had an advantage with you, but so did someone else. The young man currently smirking like a sly little fox was that someone, Wooyoung may not have had the advantage of history like Seonghwa, but he did have the advantage of giving you a memorable orgasm. Wooyoung did technically need to come back that day to give you the key, he knew he could have kept it or even given it to you tomorrow but no. Even though you two had just met Wooyoung, he took his job as your caretaker seriously. The night he met you in the club meant a lot more to him then you know.

Seonghwa stood up and headed to the door as you followed behind him, he put on his shoes and turned to you.

“Can I at least get your number so we can meet up this weekend?”

Though you were hesitant you still gave him your number, who doesn’t like a free meal right? You (and Wooyoung) waved Seonghwa off as he headed to his car, and you closed the door.

“Well, I thought you’d need some saving, when he came it looked like you seen a ghost.”

You sighed and once again dropped down on your couch face first groaning. Wooyoung walked over to stand over you.

“I guess I was right huh? Is that the guy you were telling me about in the club?”

“Yeah…” you said with your face still in the couch, so the words came out muffled.

“Want a long hug from a wet and sexy man?”

“Shut up. The bathroom is down the hall go take a shower so you can change, I’ll put your clothes in the washer.”

“Look who’s taking care of who now.” You rolled your eyes and Wooyoung went to take his shower while you loaded his clothes in the washing machine. The rain showed no signs of letting up, so you went to get at a shirt and a pair of pants for him to wear for the night. You knocked on the bathroom door.

“I have some clothes for you I’ll leave them in front of the door.”

When you finished, you kneeled to put the clothes in front of the door, before you could get up the bathroom door swung open, and steam came out. Wooyoung stood at the door with only a towel on that covered him from the waist down, his bare chest was showing, water droplets still falling from it, his wet thin gold chain sat perfectly just below his collarbone and his hair was dripping wet with a slight curl. You were stuck, speechless, frozen in time, truly how can one person have this much sex appeal? He had to be a son of Aphrodite; he was just too gorgeous.

“Come on boss you’re making me shy just staring like that.”

You exhaled deeply and got up with the clothes in hand, you felt your face get so hot you probably could melt ice. You shoved the clothes in his hand.

“H-here’s some clothes, put these on and you can stay in the guest room its upstairs and down the hall on the right, the room on the left is mine, just knock or text me if you need me. You know where food is if you’re hungry. Goodnight.”

He giggled at you and damn even his teasing laugh was sexy.

“Good night boss.”

You went up to your room and took a shower in your personal bathroom. You put on your night dress and laid in bed as you tried to decompress. This was the most eventful Monday of your life, with everything going on you had texted Rina congrats and that you loved her, but she hadn’t responded, she was probably tired from spending the day with Hongjoong. You plugged your phone up, it was not 11:21 at night, maybe your life was going to go back to normal tomorrow. As you laid in bed you closed your eyes, not even 20 minutes had passed before the thumping began. Tonight, was a bit more understandable though, your sexy ex missed you and you had a sexy caretaker across the hall, nothing to be done now though. You hadn’t heard Wooyoung come up the stairs yet, so you figured you had a bit of time. You dug in your bedside table drawer and got out your black vibrator wand. You snuggled your self deeply into the covers and bent your legs as you spread them nice and wide. You slide your free hand under your short night dress and on too your unclothed core. You rubbed your hands over your sensitive pussy, you were already wet from thinking about Wooyoung shirtless, what were you some pervy old lady gawking at the sexy boy next door? Even something as simple as that got you this wet? You chose to keep thinking about him as you turned the vibrator on to the 2nd highest setting so it wouldn’t make noise. You lightly placed it on your clit and let out a small yelp, trying to stay quiet so you wouldn’t be heard. You moved the head of the vibrator up and down your folds while your eyes were closed tightly. You started to think about Wooyoung fresh out the shower again, wishing he would have yanked you into the bathroom and bent you over the sink and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight, how would he fuck you? Would he be slow and sensual or fast and rough. You’d do anything in that moment to find out, but you knew you couldn’t, you knew fucking him was taboo, but how turned on you were, you didn’t care one bit. Though the fantasy was fun and the feeling of the vibrator on your throbbing nub felt good something was missing. It felt good but it couldn’t get you to finish, you continued trying your best to stimulate yourself enough that the thumping would stop, and you could get some rest. Little moans fell from your lips as you held the vibrator in place on your clit, without you even noticing you even slipped up and said Wooyoungs name a few times. You started to buck your hips as you felt a building up sensation, was this finally your climax, just as you could see the light at the end of the tunnel a knock was heard at the door. Your eyes shot open, and you hurried and turned off the vibrator.

“Y-yes?”

“Boss, can I come in for a second?” Wooyoung said from behind the door.

“Um…yeah that’s fine.” You shoved your toy under your other pillow and fixed your dress as you got up to open the door, you immediately walked back to sit by the head of the bed, you knew not stand up for long because your clit was throbbing like crazy after you accidently just edged yourself. You sat back down at the edge of the bed and Wooyoung walked in the room making the situation even worse. He had on your sweatpants that you gave him that were a bit too small, so it showed an obvious print you gave him one of your Nike compression work out shirts and it just showed his perfect body, were you trying to kill yourself?

“What is it Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung came in and shut the door behind him, stopping in front of you, your face was flushed, and your heart was beating at almost getting caught.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me stay here tonight, I know we are still technically strangers, but I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah of course, your Jonathan’s family so I trust you.” You gave him a speedy reply just so you could hurry and get him out your room so you can finish your task at hand. Wooyoung noticed your flustered face and how you were talking and raised an eyebrow.

“You sure? You seem uncomfortable saying that, the rain is still going but I can leave if you want.”

“NO” You abruptly yelled, and it made Wooyoung wince, you didn’t want Wooyoung to leave the house because he was the main thing driving your orgasm right now, if you were being honest, you didn’t even want him to leave the room.

“I-I J-just mean that, no I don’t want you to leave because I’d feel bad if something would happen to you.” You said trying to save you, you were frustrated and dizzy at this point, your head was spinning because the achiness of your core was driving you insane, his vary presence was making you want to scream, you opted to crossing one of your legs over the other to give yourself some sort of friction your leg bounced. Wooyoung put on his sly grin again, he knew exactly what was going on and exactly what you were doing. Due to his past, he moves around very quietly so he could enter a room and you’d never hear him. He had got dressed in the bathroom and went upstairs since he heard you lock up the house and set the alarm system. Once he made it to the second floor, he had forgot which room you said was his, he walked over to the room on the left, your room, just as he was about to open it, he heard a consistent buzzing noise start. Now he was no fool to anything sex related, he knew what you were doing, he could hear you fighting back your moans and shift around on the bed. He was going to let you continue and go to sleep, he didn’t want to seem like a creep if you caught him listening but then he heard your sexy and whiney voice call his name, that was the straw that broke the camels back. He could feel the blood rushing to his rod as it started to get stiff in the sweatpants you gave him. He was going to walk away, really, he was, but this opportunity was just too good to pass up.

“Are you sure that’s the reason?” He said smiling down at you as his slightly curled split bangs covered his low eyes.

“Y-yes, I’m sure.”

He smiled then tsked at you.

“Now boss” he said as he sat next to you on the of side the bed.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth? Tell me that you don’t want me to leave because you can’t stop thinking about how bad you want me to fuck you.”

That’s when you realize you were caught red handed.

“Th-that’s not true.”

“Aww boss, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t admit it. Should I work it out of you then?”

You didn’t answer and he took your silence as a yes, he lifted you into his lap, placing you down as you could feel his semi-hard on on your ass. He wasted no time and started to leave wet kisses on your neck.

“Ah, Wooyoung, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you and continued to kiss your neck, one of his hands reached in front of you and started to grope your breast, you never wore a bra or underwear to bed, and you were very grateful to yourself for that in this moment.

“Woo~ please”

“If you want me to stop all you have to do is tell me to stop, I’ll get off you and go right to bed.”

He stopped and waited for your answer, his hands even stopped massaging your breast, you thought to yourself for a moment, did you want him to stop?

“Please…touch me more.”

He chuckled at your neediness.

“Of course, whatever you say boss.”

He slid both the straps of your dress down and began to play with your two fleshy mountains. You leaned your head back on his shoulders as he began to lightly tug on both your hard brown nipples, little whimpers fell from your lips. He spread his legs which in turn spread yours, one of his hands eased down the side of your body and on too your thick thighs. He slid his hand up, moving your short sleeping dress up your hips, he began to rub your bare heat slowly.

“Wow boss, you’re this wet thinking about me?”

He was still playing with your nipple in one hand as he waited for your reply.

“I wasn’t.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking you were going to be good for me and tell me the truth. Come on boss tell me how bad you want my dick in you.”

His two fingers started to DJ your swollen clit and you let out a throaty moan, you needed him so bad but fuck you can’t admit that. He smiled watching you come undone with only a few simple gestures, he wanted to push you even more.

“Naughty boss, you can’t admit you want to fuck me but you’re so wet for me. Let’s see how far I can push you. Where is the toy you were using?”

“…under my pillow”

He took his hand off your burning heat to reach under the pillow, you let out a pouty noise in dissatisfaction. He took out your black wand, then without saying a word pressed the button a few times, turning it to the highest speed. He asked you if that was how high it could go and you said yes, his lack of words made you nervous. He took his other hand and move your chin to turn your head to the side. He planted your lips onto his as he maneuvered his tongue into your mouth, the kiss was so lustful you began to buck your hips because your pussy was begging to be touched. As he continued to explore your wet, hot mouth you didn’t even notice him slowly lowering his hand that held the vibrator until you felt the vibration hit your clit softly. You moaned into his mouth and tried to shut your legs, but his muscular legs made that hard for you to do. He gave your clit a break but only for a second as he started to move the vibrator up and down your dripping wet pussy, he pulled back from the kiss and moved his other hand down to spread your pussy lips apart so the vibrator could really be felt on your plush folds.

“Fuck-“ was all you could get out, you’ve been masturbating for so long and it’s never felt this good, it reminded you of the sensation you felt the first night you met Wooyoung, your entire body felt hot, and his touch was driving you insane.

“Boss your hips are moving like a little slut that wants to get fucked, are you sure you weren’t thinking about fucking me?”

He continued to move the toy on your needy pussy, he held it on the ball of your clit then slid in his two fingers. Your head slung back onto his shoulders.

“Ah fuck, oh my god I’m going to cum, please.”

You begged him for your release as your hips bucked back and forth on the toy and his fingers. You felt dizzy as the rope in your mind felt like it was about to snap, is it possible to be dick whipped for a dick you haven’t even had yet?

“Oh, Boss you’re so cute, begging your caretaker to let you cum. Don’t worry I’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

Wooyoung pushed his fingers deep into your velvet walls as they pulsed around them, he kept going in and out while rubbing circles on your clit with the wand, you were seeing stares.

“Woo, I’m going to fucking cum please.”

He sped up the pace of his fingers and pushed the vibrator into your throbbing nub, thank God you didn’t live in an apartment but if still it didn’t matter, you screamed his name as you came around his digits, but not just his digits, you came on the wand, his legs, the carpet, and the bed. When you were done breathing to calm yourself down and your ears stopped ringing you could hear Wooyoungs amused giggling as he turned off the toy and removed his fingers from inside of you, you looked up at him.

“What is it?” you said with an expression of confusion.

“Look down Boss, you squirted for me.”

You looked down in shock seeing everything wet with your release, this was the first time you ever done something like that, then again this was the first time in a while you’ve ever felt that good.

“That’s so fucking sexy Boss, I’m glad to know you can do that.”

“I didn’t even know I could do that.” You said in a lowly tone, somewhat embarrassed.

“Aww don’t be shy, here I’ll clean you up.”

He slid you off his lap and stood up, his erection being more then obvious now, you assumed he was going to the bathroom to grab a towel, but he did something much worse. He kneeled in front of your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to pull you all the way to the edge of the bed, the force and speed made you fall back on to the bed, you started to question what he was doing, and it was too late. Wooyoung started to lick long stripes up your pussy, you silently moaned as the overstimulation started to kick in. Your pussy was so sensitive you could have sworn you could feel the taste buds on his tongue. You reached down to grip a hand full of his hair and he flicked his tongue on your nub.

“Oh, my fuck Woo please, I’m going crazy.”

He sucked your clit into his mouth, and you inched up away from his mouth, he sucked it back in and a pop was heard when you pulled yourself upward again. He once again yanked you back down to his mouth, you looked down and you were met with his sharp fox eyes, a serious look in his lustful. He removed his mouth from your pussy, your wetness covered his chin.

“Don’t fucking run from me, understood?”

You were so intimidated, yet so turned on, that was so fucking sexy.

“Y-yes Woo.”

“Good girl.” He went back to lapping up your sweet wetness, you groaned from the sensitivity and gripped the sheets, you wanted to run again but chose to save disobeying him for another time. Another time? Will there be another time? Should there be another time and why were you hoping there would be another time? You were pulled from your thought when you felt Wooyoung slip his tongue into your hole, making you yelp. His tongue started to fuck your pussy just like his fingers did a few moments ago and you started to feel the pressure in your core rise. He removed his hand from under your thigh and placed it on the hood of your pussy, he used his thumb to flick your clit as he continued to dart his tongue in and out of you. You once again grabbed his hair as you bucked your hips, babbling curse words and his name mixed in. As you were about to reach the top of your peak you could feel your mind going blank that’s when you said exactly what he needed to hear.

“Ah FUCK! Woo, I need your dick so bad!”

You came around his tongue, he started to suck all the cum rushing from your pussy like it was his job, which I guess it is since he is hired to “take care of you”.

Once you came down from you high Wooyoung dropped your other leg and got up. He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe off all the cum that covered the bottom half of his face, he looked so primal, you wanted him to fuck you right then and there into the bed with no mercy.

“So, you admit you want to fuck me huh?”

You paused for a moment, there was no lying, hiding, or running, you had already said it, nothing to do now but to double down.

“Y-yes.”

“Mm, good to know, night boss.”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

What the hell kind of Monday-, you grabbed your phone to look at the time to see it was not 1:51am, Tuesday was this?

Next Chapter Link

Taglist:

@sillyhappygirl @atiny-dime-p1ece @angelsaway @bloody-wine @jungeunkyo72

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #atz smut #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa smut #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fanfic #seonghwa angst #wooyoung angst #wooyoung x black reader #seonghwa x black reader #ateez angst #ateez x black reader #writenbypyramidofstars

[kalee60]

Kalee. Kal. Hi. Hello.

So I recently got a Tiktok because all the kids these days are doing it and my sister keeps sending me videos 🤦🏼‍♀️🙄 I know.

Anyways

There’s apparently this challenge.

Kalee.

It’s a kiss your best friend challenge.

And all I can think is:

Steve and Bucky.

It could be canon verse. It could be an au.

But like imagine. If you haven’t seen the videos it’s super cute but also cringy because like what if it doesn’t go over well, it would be awkwardddd! They basically just film themselves hangout with their best friend and then try to kiss them and see if they’ve secretly been pining too.

Imagine.

Claire - my gorgeous pocket rocket from the Big Apple 🍎

This ask (that you sent eons ago) could not just be answered with a simple - 'omg, yes - I know right - it's the perfect Stucky scenario - someone should write it'... Because well - I guess somehow it turned out that I could write a little something...

I hope you enjoy this, because without your cheerleading, your throwing of pom poms and generally screaming at me in comments and on here - well writing wouldn't be half as much fun.

So for you Claire - enjoy this little story of two boys, a kiss in the making and a TikTok account 😘

~*~*~*~*~

Nerves rode Bucky as he placed his phone down into the perfect position; camera at the ready, not pressing record yet - but waiting for the signal. Steve was doing the exact same with his phone, only from a slightly different angle, setting it up for their parkour trick - something they were going to post to TikTok later. But although Steve was under the impression he was about to perform a flip off Bucky’s shoulders to grab hold of a tree branch then scale the fifteen foot wall beside it - Bucky had other ideas.

He’d seen a new TikTok challenge that week, it was plastered all over the platform and filled his suggested videos, and since the first time he’d watched one, then devoured another fifty straight away, he’d secretly wanted to do it. Wanted to throw all caution to the wind and seize the moment.

Today was that day.

Bucky Barnes was going to kiss Stevie Rogers right on the lips. His best friend since middle school, the boy, now man that he’d secretly loved for over a decade - and although Bucky could have thought of a million different ways to show Steve how he felt - he’d just never had the courage. At least if the video bombed, he could still put it up as a laugh and hopefully Steve would see the joke and it wouldn’t ruin their friendship - hopefully.

So Bucky waited for Steve to finish fiddling with his phone and camera positioning, which was taking him longer than usual to set up, trying to not let the butterflies in his gut take over.

Steve finally looked up, face flushed red like he’d already performed the stunt and Bucky was struck dumb, staring at how beautiful Steve was in the afternoon sunlight. He became lost in the way the shadows from the trees created patterns across Steve’s tightly toned body, the slight wind whispering to Bucky to take his chance, to not mess it up. And Steve stood before him like a golden god, nervously splaying his fingers, cracking his knuckles while staring back at Bucky with an unreadable expression on his face. Was he worried about their trick?

“You okay, Pal?” Bucky asked, his voice faltering with the knowledge he was about to change everything - or nothing.

Steve nodded, eyes wide and bright, darting over Bucky’s face, and Bucky took a moment to bask at being in Steve’s full attention.

“Yep,” Steve popped the ‘p’ and ran a hand through his hair, blonde strands sticking up comically, but Bucky didn’t laugh, he’d never seen someone as breathtaking as Steve did in that moment. 

Steve was Bucky’s true north, a steady and unrelenting force at his side - but it went both ways. They’d been through family deaths, relationship fallouts, fights and everything in between, but the one thing that was always unbroken - was they were in it together. No matter what life threw at them, Steve and Bucky were as solid as rock. Unshakable.

And Bucky was probably about to screw it all up.

They closed in on each other, coming to a standstill until only a foot separated them; Steve’s huge blue eyes darted quickly between Bucky’s; there was something different about the look, intense, and Bucky wondered if his own nerves were obvious and Steve was suddenly unsure about the acrobatic feat they were attempting.

“You still want to do this? Haven’t changed your mind?” Bucky asked to make sure, and was surprised when Steve licked his lips and shook his head emphatically.

“No, I’m sure - more sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Bucky smiled, Steve being dramatic about their parkour tricks was not unusual, but the way Steve’s cheek twitched and how his foot tapped on the ground was not normal behaviour. And Bucky couldn’t help but start to worry that his idea to surprise-kiss Steve wasn’t the greatest one, wasn’t something he should be trying, as it seemed Steve was janky - wound up.

“Alright, Stevie. If you’re sure.”

Resolve filled Steve’s features as they both turned on their cameras, and once set up, Steve took an almost hesitant step forward.

Bucky held his breath.

It was the moment of truth. 

They’d practised the trick so many times, had to start toe to toe for it to work, Steve pushing off Bucky to sprint to the wall, running vertically up the side of it, to twist around and jump off Bucky’s shoulders and flip onto the tree branch, shoving off it then using his momentum to run up the rest of the wall. Finally gripping the lip and climbing over it. 

They’d gone over it at least thirty times.

No injuries as of yet.

But this time, just as Steve pressed forward, Bucky yanked him in - at the exact same time as Steve flew forward, completely catching Bucky off guard as he was heading in the wrong direction than expected, he was moving towards Bucky instead of pushing away - and their heads slammed together with a loud thud.

And instead of taking the defeat of the moment graciously, Bucky was in too deep, had waited too long, had it all planned out - and so as Steve rubbed his forehead looking as mortified at what had transpired as Bucky, Bucky once again leant forward. Only to find Steve pitching towards him too, and for the second time in less than three seconds their skulls cracked against the other.

“- holy shit, Barnes. Are you going to let me kiss you or not?”

“- Steve you fucking menace, I’m trying to kiss you!”

The silence was deafening as their words mingled together and wide ocean blue eyes met stormy silt infused grey-blue ones in shock.

“- what did you…?”

“- did you just...?”

Once again talking at the same time, they both trailed off, and the words started to sink into Bucky’s fried brain. Steve was trying to kiss him. Him.

Slack jawed, he could only stare at Steve whose expression mimicked his own, clearly having come to the same realisation about Bucky. He managed to swallow the obscenely thick lump in his throat and with a small tremor in his hand, reached up to place it on Steve’s forehead where a red mark was forming - rubbing the spot gently with his thumb. Steve’s eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed.

With the last tendrils of fear slipping away, Bucky trailed his fingers down the side of Steve’s face before reaching behind his head, gripping the base of Steve’s neck. Then stopped.

Steve’s breathing laboured, coming in sharp and Bucky tightened his grip, loving the way Steve’s eyes fluttered half shut before they opened again, trying not to lose contact with Bucky’s.

Steve was stunning, so responsive and Bucky licked his lips, loving how Steve’s attention snagged on his mouth immediately.

“Can I?” Bucky husked, and Steve nodded jerkily when Bucky’s fingers played with the silky strands of Steve’s hair as he leant in.

The first meeting of their lips lacked the pain of slammed heads and teeth - but it was perfect in every way. Steve’s lips were plush, soft and pliant under Buckys as Bucky took control of the kiss, pressing forward into Steve’s heat. Bucky’s other hand came up to cup Steve’s face tenderly, unable to express how it felt to be kissing his lifelong friend after so many years of yearning for it, Bucky almost at the point where he thought it could never happen. The fact Steve kissed him back - enthusiastically, made his heart thump louder and harder until it was all he could hear in his mind.

After a moment, Bucky pulled away, resting his forehead on Steve’s, mindful of the tender place they’d cracked heads minutes earlier, and couldn’t stop the rasped laugh that escaped.

“You laughing at the way I kiss, Barnes?” Steve sassed with a smile in his voice.

Bucky chuckled, “no, not at all.” He paused a second to gather his thoughts, “I just can’t believe I set this up to kiss you on camera for TikTok, so damn nervous the whole time you’d freak out and punch me - and you were doing the exact same thing.”

Steve grinned and pulled away enough so that he could stare into Bucky’s eyes, the emotion shining from his beautifully clear expression stole the breath from Bucky’s lungs.

“How long?” Steve asked with a whisper. And Bucky wanted to lie, to tell him it wasn’t long, that he’d only just realised if only to stop himself looking too much like a sap.

He didn’t lie.

“The day you punched Deon Franklin when he asked me for a tongue kiss while calling me those terrible names.”

Steve’s stunned look spoke volumes, “Bucky. We were sixteen.”

“And…?” Bucky winced at Steve’s incredulous tone.

Suddenly Steve laughed hysterically, and Bucky started to back up, but before he got too far, Steve grabbed his biceps stopping him in his tracks. “Oh no you dont. You do know why I punched him right?”

“Because he was a dick?”

“Well apart from that.” Steve said wryly and took a deep breath, letting Bucky go. “It’s because he upset you. And I was desperate for your attention - wanted that kiss he so crudely demanded as a joke.”

“What…” Bucky stammered out, “You wanted me back then too?”

Steve smiled indulgently at him. “You didn’t think I stuck around just for your personality did you?”

Bucky roared with laughter, elated at the turn of events and grabbed Steve, slamming their mouths together, and soon the kiss morphed from chaste and exploratory to something meaner, something heavier. Pushing Steve up against the tree, the small noise from Steve’s throat as the bark dug into his skin set something feral off in Bucky and he kissed deeper, shoving his tongue further until both of them struggled for air.

A loud beeping infiltrated Bucky’s hearing and he reluctantly pulled away, adoring the slack jawed and glazed look in Steve’s eyes way too much. Wanting Steve to look up at him with that exact same expression but with a lot less clothing and a lot more privacy in place.

“Want to do the trick still?” Bucky questioned as he walked over and grabbed his phone to stop the alert that he was running out of video. When Steve didn’t answer he looked back over his shoulder and almost dropped his phone.

Steve was leaning limp against the tree, clearly half hard and staring after Bucky like he’d just gifted him the world. When in actual fact, it was Steve who’d done that for him.

Bucky stalked back over, gripping Steve’s chin, kissing him soundly one more time, and Steve immediately went pliant under his touch, oh boy, they were going to have so much fun.

“How about instead, we go back to mine and see what other tricks we can come up with?”

Steve’s breathing came in faster and harder and a broken ‘yes’ worked its way out of his throat, Bucky catching the word in his mouth as he kissed Steve again.

Bucky smirked as he pulled away, helping Steve stand upright.

“But, only on the condition that we tape it.” Steve said in a voice deep and rich, and Bucky was suddenly on the back foot when Steve smiled deliciously at him, eyes full of dirty promises.

Dry mouthed and vibrating from anticipation, Bucky followed Steve to his car, walking in a slight daze at what had transpired in only twenty minutes.

And all Bucky was certain of, was that although his TikTok kiss hadn’t gone to plan - everything else would fall into place.

Just the way it was meant to.

#Claire - this is all your fault - look what you made me do!! #stucky #Steve x Bucky #friends to lovers #tiktok challenge drabble/fic #mutual pining #mywriting #something silly #Claire i love you ❤️ #i have the most amazing friends who inspire me to write this fluffy crap 🥰 #kalee answers

[tundrainafrica]

Hey so how does it feel to carry the entire Levihan fandom on your back? I absolutely love all your stories! I always look forward to when you update! I had an idea for a fic but I haven't seen anyone do it. Where past levi wakes ups ( when he only sees hange as a friend) in the future to find that he's happily married to hange or living domestically with her and just contemplates his feelings for her

Title: Unwritten

Summary:

“Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she creates really quality works is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the direction, to the design and just the overall production… And she knows how to do it. When I watch her movies, it feels like they're peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“What makes Hange Zoe's writing special are those in betweens. The unwritten parts... if you know what I mean?" 

Levi is assigned to work with screenwriter Hange Zoe and he is left constantly wondering why the hell she's taking her work so seriously.

Link: AO3

Note: I conceptualized this long fic after looking through a some of the prompts in my inbox and playing with them.. TYSM to everyone who sent those. I won't be dropping all the prompts I used when making this now because it might end up spoiling the fic as a whole but I will be dropping the prompts with every chapter I updated.

This fic doesn't actually follow any prompt strictly, I twisted the prompts around them, tore them apart, put them together so they might seem unrecognizable for some.

Either way, I'm very grateful to readers who are sending me prompts. It keeps me writing and brainstorming even when life gets terribly busy.

So thank you for them :D. I'm trying to get back to posting my writing more regularly again and this fic has been sitting in my folder for a while, I was just a little nervous to post it. Thanks to itShailaAM for looking through it!

If neither of us remember anything… Then it’s like it never happened right?

The voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic. It had a unique way of twisting at his gut, spidering up his spine then leaving an almost painful pang in his chest.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Levi found himself still able to take control.

So he reached out.

Then he was chasing after her again.

Chasing… He then wondered. How long had he been chasing? How long had he been awake?

With the first light of morning, whatever message, whatever meaning he could have made up for himself dissipated.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

For the first time in years or even decades, Levi was wasting his early morning window before work. He wasn’t doing much of anything but staring up at the white ceiling in some feeble attempt to make sense of it again. He came up empty save for two things: a faint throbbing in his head and a half hearted conclusion that maybe it really was just some fevered dream.

“Good morning!"  Someone was right next to him. Her voice was higher, more mellow. A hairs breadth away from his ear though, it grated.

Levi narrowed his eyes and the blur cleared somewhat. “Petra?” He heard himself speak. He was in an unfamiliar in-between, completely in control of himself, yet strangely disconnected. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petra put one hand on the back of her head and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about barging in like this…” She didn’t have to apologize. They were childhood friends and with all the family gatherings they had spent together growing up, they were more than comfortable just flitting in and out of each other’s apartments.

Levi didn’t respond. There were more important things to think about like the slow and almost painful process of sitting up. That morning, he was a little more careful than usual.

“Your mom told me to check on you.” Petra continued.

“Typical,” he muttered coldly. He turned towards the window, and took in the view of the blue sky, a few stories above ground. It should calm him if he stared at it long enough. “She always overreacts,” he added. At that point, the crankiness had started to subside and Levi realized he didn’t mind the doting too much. His mother had always been like that anyway. Growing up, a sprained ankle or an animal bite from a family pet had always been enough for Kuchel to insist on a visit to the doctor.

Petra let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t blame her though. Since the accident, she’s been asking about you every...”

Everyday. Levi completed it for her. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had asked about him every hour. “She can always ask me directly,” he said out loud before Petra could finish. He didn’t feel too bad about interrupting. Petra had been speaking particularly slowly since a while ago and if he let her speak like that for any longer, they might not get anything done.

As if she had read his mind or at least noticed the impatience, she immediately gathered herself. “You always downplay it,” she said, more clearly this time.

“She always exaggerates it.”

“That accident was pretty bad though.” Petra cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure you understand that, right?”

Levi averted his gaze for a brief second. He couldn’t deny that part. That accident had apparently been bad enough to merit a month long hospital stay, bad enough for Levi to not remember much of it aside from the phantom pains in his chest, And bad enough to take the brunt of the pain and the inconvenience of dealing with the symptomatic disorientation, the fatigue and the begrudging need for some support.

A few seconds of reflection later, Levi concluded maybe there was good reason for that overreaction. “But I can take care of myself.”

Ironically, his body chose that moment to teeter.

“Hey, you okay?” Petra put one warm hand on his shoulder. “You think you can make it to work today?”

The throbbing at the back of his head had dulled to a bearable ache but he could have sworn it had been worse in the hospital. “I don’t have enough leaves,” he said. He focused for a while longer on Petra’s eyes and saw reason.

Maybe I can take a longer break?

His body was probably silently begging for more leaves. On the contrary, another part of him had been yearning for normalcy for a while. Practicality had been the deciding factor. Although Levi had more than enough leaves, did he have more than he would have been comfortable giving up? Maybe not. He wouldn’t take it anyway. He had more than enough strength to push himself out of bed and pad lightly to the bathroom.

Unwillingly or willingly? He was too tired to tell.

“You were in the hospital just a week ago.” Petra was a voice of reason or a voice of temptation.

“I can’t take any more leaves,” Levi repeated again, as if saying it louder somehow made it more convincing. He made his way to his closet, keeping his strides purposeful, partially for himself, partially for her.

Even for a long time friend, Petra had always been shy and conservative. As soon as Levi motioned to pull his shirt up, she rushed out of the room in some characteristic gesture of modesty.

His bedroom door closed with a click and Levi started to slip his clothes off much faster. His head continued to throb. There was a strange ringing in his ears and the room was a little drafty, typical for early spring.

Levi didn’t have the mind space to prepare for that brush with icy wind. Fucking hell. Discomfort then the desperation that followed had him considering calling in sick again.

After using up three week’s worth though, vacation leaves were starting to feel more like a scam than an actual benefit of the job. He ran through the motions of his typical morning routine. Or at least, what had been typical a month ago. Since the accident, he hadn’t worn anything but loose shirts, pajamas and hospital gowns. Back in the hospital, he had been asleep a lot of that time.

He pulled his pants on, then sluggishly pulled his sweater over him, dolefully noting how snug fitting clothing seemed like strangers to his skin.

He didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

It looked like Petra did notice something was different. Over breakfast, she had pushed the plates closer to him. She did the honors of pouring the scrambled eggs onto his plate, then placing a loaf of bread right next to him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead.”

Levi mumbled something that could have been a ‘thanks’ or a ‘yes.’ He didn’t think too far about it either. There were more pressing things to deal with, like internally psyching himself up for his first day back at work and finding routine once again in the recovery process.

For a few minutes after, the two were silent in the small kitchen save for the sound of chewing and the sound of cutlery clacking on the plate.

“Hey Levi,” Petra hesitantly broke the silence. “You really don't remember what happened?” She had asked that question countless times before, back at the hospital, on his first day back at home and every single time she paid a visit.

He chalked it up to worry. In some semblance of a response, Levi downed the bread in his mouth in one painful gulp, then took a sip of tea. “I remember waking up in the hospital.”

“Before that.”

Levi dropped the half eaten bread on the plate and stared straight up at the ceiling for a second. “Leaving work,” he answered. It was too vague of an answer and Petra didn't seem satisfied.

Of course she wouldn’t be satisfied. He always walked the same route home and routine wouldn’t give too much of an answer to the question of how the hell more than a month ago, he had ended up with a severe concussion and a few contusions in the hospital emergency room, a few towns away from his own.

Past was past though. There was no use digging into it. At present, he had medical bills to pay and a career to salvage. No time for a personal investigation. He attempted to digress. “What did I miss?” Levi asked. “At work?” He noted Petra’s very disconcerting expression, a combination of pity and uncertainty. It was starting to get annoying.

Petra furrowed her brows, a little more hesitant to speak that time. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

In protest, Levi put the bread down and stared at Petra, his stone cold expression unwavering. He wouldn’t be eating unless Petra continued. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A few minutes of silence later and it seemed to work. Petra looked down at the bread then up at him. Whatever was plaguing her mind then had taken some control over her. “A lot has changed since the accident,” she started.

“With work?” Levi asked again. He dropped the bread on the plate, deliberately allowing the clatter, as if the loud jarring sound would be enough to drive away the disbelief. Three weeks or fifteen business days wasn’t supposed to be a long time taking into account the speed of office bureaucracy.

Petra nodded, a wry smile on her face. Her expression, her demeanor gave the uncertainty away before she spoke of it. “You’re probably going to have to talk to Mr. Zackley about it…”

Levi’s mind was racing. Despite the throbbing, Levi had managed to fill in the blanks for himself. Even before Petra expounded on it, Levi had started to accept already, going back to work was probably not going to be such an easy ride.

Being gone for weeks had done a number to his job.

Three weeks to be exact. It was just three weeks, fifteen business days. Despite Petra’s apparent discomfort, her incessant warnings not to ‘expect,’ Levi had expected some semblance of normalcy. When his hopes were dashed, Levi felt like he had been body slammed out of nowhere by an oncoming train.

“I’ve been working on their set for years…Since the pilot episode, ” Levi said slowly. Hell, since even before the pilot episode if you consider the preproduction stage. He didn’t want it to seem at all like it was an argument and he subdued his tone to something lighter, with the intention of reminding himself not to talk back at authority.

“And we’ve transferred you,” General Manager Darius Zackley said matter-of-factly. “Underground City has been garnering a lot of attention lately and we couldn’t afford to be undermanned at such a crucial point of production.”

“But was it necessary to transfer me?”

Mr. Zackley’s expression softened. He didn't have a natural expression that demanded authority but he made up for it with reason. “It’s a primetime show,” he explained. “One of our best, and given the uncertainty regarding your accident…” For some reason, he had hesitated at that word. “We couldn’t take a gamble. We had you immediately replaced after the first week.”

“And?” At face value, the new developments were starting to seem terribly, terribly disappointing. “I can still work there.” Levi was perfectly aware of where the conversation was going. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

Mr. Zackley was surprisingly patient. “It’s not an issue of you not fitting in. But we want to properly and more efficiently distribute our labor. The production of Underground City is currently…” He cleared his throat. “Oversaturated.”

Oversaturated with budget, resources. Underground City was a crime and mystery drama, one of their more high budget productions. Levi wasn’t too surprised at that piece of information, having worked closely with the producers and the writers since the pilot.

With a boss a few reporting levels above his own though, Levi couldn’t do much but listen quietly. Disappointment and uncertainty loomed over him and he was tiring more quickly.

“We’ve made some arrangements, set you up with a new role.” Mr. Zackley was taking his sweet time, his painfully sweet time.

At the butt end of Mr. Zackley’s whims, Levi was a mess. He racked his brain for all possible outcomes of the ‘arrangements’, a painful process, hampered by the weight of too many possibilities. They were a medium sized network that produced most of their own TV shows on top of news coverage and documentaries, still too many for Levi to have cared enough about to count.

At that moment, he was determined to make up for lost time. Naturally, his mind first flew to the more well known productions, those that had been receiving the best ratings in prime time TV since he had started working there.

Underground City. Military Police.

Working at the set of the crime drama ‘Underground City’ had been a good run for Levi, one he would have liked to continue but Mr. Zackley said so himself, they replaced him. ‘Military Police,’ one of their more popular historical war dramas, also received one of the bigger chunks of their budget. With Zackley’s very sullen expression, it looked like he wasn’t at all there to give Levi a promotion.

He didn’t really mind not working on the ‘Military Police’ set anyway. Everyone there seemed like a lazy prick and that long running drama had always seemed overrated to him. What else would be waiting for him though? “To where?” Levi pressed.

The old man hummed for a second, leaned forward on his seat. “I talked to Erwin about this and we have an opening in one of our daytime shows.”

“Erwin?” Levi repeated. The name was more than just familiar and he allowed himself a brief moment to recall. Erwin Smith. One of the more prominent in-house directors. Just digging deep into his mind, riling up whatever was causing the headache in the first place. He sat still and waited for it to subside again.

Then he wondered if it had been physical or just an emotional reaction to the mess he found himself in. He was barely recovering, he was plunged into a new position and he was confused, utterly confused.

“Consider it a temporary position until something else opens up,” Mr. Zackley added. “Given that you just got back from the hospital, it would be better if you started small.” He shot Levi a placating look. “Either way, this is a good opportunity for you, Ackerman…” It didn’t seem so genuine. “To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.”

Zackley spoke for an eternity longer after that but it had done nothing to make the transfer any better.

Levi had been working with that same hustle and bustle for years and he was confident, a three week break at the height of production wouldn’t have been enough to throw him--- hell, most people off completely.

But he was being treated like some invalid. Zackley’s warm words yet his uninviting demeanor sent some alarm bells ringing inside Levi.Mr. Zackley was overly consoling, overly placating and Levi’s mind was racing.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders, willing himself to relax and focus on the present. Whatever the catch was, he’d find out soon anyway.

To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.

What a magnificent fucking lie.

“Start small my ass.” With the stress just piling up and his body barely catching up, Levi was tempted to let it out as anything louder, accompanying it with the very dramatic motion of dropping the paper work on the floor and relishing the loud thud. He imagined scattering the pages on the table, spilling them onto the floor and maybe kicking them out onto some curb.

Then he brushed off that mental image completely.

That would only create an unnecessary mess, maybe even cause a scene in that small cafe. Although his life seemed like it was complete chaos, his fastidious side wouldn’t have allowed him to make it any more worse. Then and there, he deemed it the best option to just take a sip of his tea, allow it to warm him up slowly and create a comfortable distraction, somewhere convenient.

A minute or so later, Levi accepted, tea didn’t do too good of a job. After all, what could tea do, aside from supporting him through the long and painful two days of ‘adjustment’ and the journey to the very frustrating conclusion that the general manager of the studio, Mr. Zackley was too out of touch with the struggles of the average worker.

“Just for long enough to get back to the hustle and bustle of TV production? What a fucking liar,” Levi muttered again. He dropped the tea cup on the saucer with a clank.

“Well, technically you are starting small,” Petra said. “They don’t expect too much quality wise from a soap opera on a day time slot.” She flipped through the pages of scripts and the storyboards that formed an overwhelmingly thick pile of papers on the coffee table.

It wasn’t too thick. Levi stared for a while longer and he decided it was a manageable pile of documents. The soft copies on his laptop were also of a countable number.

The deadline to be completely functional in two days though wasn’t as reasonable.

In search of some semblance of a break, Levi shifted his gaze towards Petra.

Her familiar presence had made the job change bearable. A half hearted response with her attention mostly channelled towards the piles of scripts had still been enough to have Levi more at home in the middle of the coffee shop in the late afternoon. “You didn’t even need to transfer,” Levi said. The indignance and the bitterness of a while ago seemed to be mellowing into something almost sweet.

Petra turned a beet red and she put her hands up in defense. “No no… I wanted to. Besides, this type of set is always in need of more people.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in response. Soap opera sets? Or maybe just daytime soap operas in general. Or maybe just that particular soap opera set. He turned back to the pile of papers on the table then back to his laptop.

The pile of papers on the table was the script for that month alone. The folders in the USB were eight seasons worth of soap opera scripts and episodes. Levi was once again reminded why such a project could have been so undersaturated.

Scratch that, he had never forgotten and he didn’t think he would ever forget anyway.

The script for just that month was much larger than the piles Levi worked with at his previous production. By the second day, he was starting to conclude, working with daytime soap operas was turning out to be a grind, a seemingly thankless grind.

Soap operas ran with the expectation of producing five episodes a week with a shoestring budget. The pressing deadlines and just the amount of content that had to be produced meant vacations and holidays were few and far in between for the average employee. And the unreasonable demands usually meant that quality would naturally suffer.

Since he started assimilating into his job, he also started to wonder. What audience were they even producing soaps for in that day and age?

“Do you think you’ll even enjoy this?” Levi challenged.

“It’s too early to tell,” Petra said.

Levi didn’t want to admit it then, but he was convinced that she would even find a way to enjoy it. The question should have been for him. He was the one who could barely even get past the first page of the script.

Petra flashed him a knowing smile, flipping the pages a little faster. She wasn’t reading them and all attention was on Levi.

Her face could have been asking questions. Or Levi could have been projecting. He repeated the question to himself. What now? More specifically, what was he supposed to do?

Then he answered it. Get used to it? Or maybe just accept it as a job. The grind would eventually get less painful he was sure. But would he ever see the beauty in it?

Levi had never taken the time to watch that particular soap opera but he had seen too many in passing to know what he would be working with.

The stories didn’t make fucking sense. The sets were cheaply made. The lights, the cameras and the resources for special effects were far from what he was given when he was still working with the twenty-one-episodes-a-season, one-season-a-year ‘Underground City.”

According to Erwin, they just didn’t have the budget. Besides, the average viewer didn’t expect much else anyway from a soap opera.

Either way, he was still hired as the cinematographer. This is still your job. Levi took a deep breath then exhaled with a soft huff. First things first, he had to familiarize himself with ten to fifty episodes worth of scripts. That night, he would be watching the blocking, the lighting, the editing, the overall production.

That was the job of the fucking cinematographer anyway. Erwin had warned him though, they were severely undermanned in all facets of production, pre production, production proper and post production. And for shows that aired multiple times a week, that meant, the grind wouldn't end.

So he wouldn’t just be the cinematographer.

At the impending workload that followed his orientation phase, Levi closed his eyes tight. For a second there, his mind flew to other opportunities and just the process of editing his CV and applying elsewhere.

Maybe in a year he would reapply, or maybe even in months.

He wondered if Petra was thinking the same thing. If she were, she didn’t make it obvious. Petra enjoyed the production process just as much as he did and she had been the reason he had found a job there in the first place.

“Welcome back to the working world.” Petra chuckled.

Levi blinked back the surprise in his eyes as he was once again pulled back to reality. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed. The weak throbbing returned and after spending too many hours insisting to Petra that he was ready to go back to work, he didn’t think it right to take a break.

He sipped his tea and deemed that a quick break.

“God I miss our tea times,” Petra said, looking pointedly at Levi's tea caup. She flipped the script over and pulled her teacup towards her.

Levi noted the wistful expression on Petra’s face. “I was only out for a month,”

Petra shook her head. “But for a week or so, we thought you wouldn’t make it.” There was a subtle crack, not too noticeable if Levi hadn’t tensed up and watched her closely.

It was bringing up too many unwelcome emotions at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a haze of memories aggravated the throbbing in his head.

Levi turned back to the pile of papers. With the amount of work to do, he would never have the time to ponder what happened anyway. In an attempt at digression, he pulled the script towards him, and started to flip the pages, poring over words yet only taking in half of it.

A very boring half.

Eventually, he gave up. “Let’s go back home. We’re not getting anything done here.” He gathered the pages, and meticulously returned them to each envelope.

He was supposed to be reviewing the scripts to get some idea on how the TV show worked. They had chosen to work in the cafe to escape from the bustle of the sets and attempt some productivity. Yet, they had been in the cafe for a few hours already and he still didn’t remember what the story had been about in the first place.

Soap operas didn’t have logical plots anyway. Levi thought to himself. Maybe just accepting could make his work feel more unbearable. He watched as Petra gathered the pages on her end, stuffed them into her bag.

“Sorry, I thought you would have wanted tea. You always liked this place…” Petra was explaining herself. The not-so-eloquent way at which she did it was a distraction. In fact, everything at that point was either a distraction or even irritating. Levi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the throbbing take control for a second.

One step at a time. Levi slung his bag over his shoulder. “The tea was good,” he said, more for her than himself. That was a lie. In fact, the tea tasted underwhelming. Tea usually didn’t disappoint though and Levi was starting to suspect the fault was in him. “Just give me some time to get used to life again,” he added, his tone more apologetic that time.

A few seconds or even minutes of reflection later and Levi had to admit, he felt like he really had changed during that break.

Cinematography is visual storytelling. Or so, that was what he had been taught when he started working with TV shows years ago.

When there was no story he could follow, there was no essence or heart to portray. So, Levi naturally approached it like a cold hard science. The hard copies on folders lay abandoned on the coffee table. His laptop remained unopened.

Levi's attention was trained on the big screen. He had silently been sprawled on the sofa since they arrived back to his apartment hours ago. Bundled up in a sweatshirt, legs propped up on the coffee table, Levi was in that convenient trance between relaxing and analyzing.

He had no idea what the couple on the TV had been arguing about. He had no idea who had fathered the large overly tacky baby bump sticking out of the woman.

The latest episode was playing on repeat and Levi remembered two things happening in the past ten minutes. A pregnant woman entering the crappy set of their mansion, hand on her oversized belly and  man looked back at her then approached her, a look of abject horror on his face. He was shouting something, obscenities maybe?

By that point, Levi’s mind started to wander with too many other passing thoughts.

The horror at finding out the protagonist was pregnant was overly exaggerated. Were baby bumps really supposed to be that big? And why did it take them that many months to figure it out? How many pregnancies did the protagonist go through? How many love interests did she have?

Then the cinematographer and the photographer in him took over.

There were more important things to look into. The camera never moved. Levi was familiar with multi camera setups and he didn’t need to think too hard about it. Most of the scenes were filmed in the house, in the office, all conveniently made sets, the conveniently written scripts were written around the shitty budget.

And the high frame rate, in tandem with the inorganic lighting, the lack of special effects and just the lack of some careful camera movement, made the overall story and the overall view, underwhelming, not at all cinematic.

The soap opera effect.

Some wouldn’t see it. Others would probably notice it but not glaringly enough to complain. Levi had worked in film for years and when he would search for the characteristic motion blur, he would immediately find it. The culmination of a simple camera set up, a few sets, a cheap camera, and with a studio and network always in some hurry to cut the budget, the soap opera effect was very apparent.

And they would be expecting the same cooperation from him in putting together a cheaply made production. On the bright side, that meant that despite having to deal with some shitty soap opera plot that didn’t make any sense, he wouldn’t have to do too much thinking with lighting, blocking and editing. Planning sets and scenes would be a light stroll in the park at best, soul suckingly monotonous at worst.

Levi reached for the remote and started to rewind, his interest suddenly piqued.

“So what do you think happened to the baby?” Petra asked. She dropped a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

Levi wasn’t in any mood to eat. More importantly, he in the mood to speculate the cheap excuse for a plot. “Am I supposed to care?” He pulled his legs close to him and leaned further on the armrest of the sofa, giving Petra more than enough space to get herself comfortable.

“Well, you’re working on the set right? Better to at least know the major plot points of what you’re working with.”

“Spoil me,” Levi said.

Petra reached for the popcorn and grabbed a handful. She turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “You really don’t even wanna try to enjoy it?”

“This is a job. ”

Petra dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Well… Hanako gets kidnapped…”

“Hanako?”

“The baby…” Petra answered, looking pointedly at him. “They literally spent an episode discussing the baby’s name.” A laugh was very much evident in her voice.

And there are a hundred episodes to sift through. “I don’t have to know the baby’s name to do my job.”

“The baby will be the main character in the next season. If you have been reading the script--- Or even just following the story...” Petra put her hands out and pointed at the TV, starting to look more exasperated by the minute.

“Okay,” Levi responded firmly, not in any mood to stomach accusations. “Then I’ll learn her name when I start working. Just tell me what I need to know to do my job. ”

Petra sighed. “When we get back on air, there will be a time skip. Then the season post time skip picks up after Hanako’s first day of college. So before that she grew up with her adopted parents who found her abandoned in a box. They went through some tough times financially and in the latest pages of the script she gets a job in a coffee shop.” She turned towards the thick envelope on the table then glanced accusingly at him. “I could have sworn you were reading through that back in the cafe.”

Levi didn’t notice it. He had only half heartedly read the script. Still, he feigned a look of interest.

“Then a lot of the writers quit,” Petra continued. “So a lot of what happened hasn't been written yet.”

Levi flashed Petra a knowing look.

Petra sighed. "Apparently, people were overworked, the job didn't pay much so a lot of the crew, cinematographer, production designers, they all left which was most likely why they put you there.”

Levi only had to look back at his first day and his second day to understand the turnover rate. He had spent a little less than an hour familiarizing himself with systems that seemed to be put into place for show. Soon after that, he was bombarded with unreasonable deadlines, timelines, responsibilities outside his actual job title and a little less than two days to sift through eight seasons worth of scripts.

“And why they easily transferred me. We're really behind now.  Post production for the last few episodes should be completed this week, aired by next week.

"Then we have a hiatus at least," Levi said, repeating it with that same cold professional tone Erwin had used with him on their first day. Except he knew that was a scam too. They would be using that two week hiatus to start filing.

That reminder at least pulled Levi back into reality. He couldn’t flit mindlessly from side to side and clock it up as ‘learning the ropes’ forever. Eventually, they were going to ask him to actually know the ropes. “Erwin said something about me working with production proper and post production,” Levi mindlessly rewinded some of the scenes again. “But they can’t expect me to write the script right?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you will,” she said. “I talked to a few of the crew. They said they were hiring a writer. A whole writing crew actually--- And you know, among them, there are rumors about a big name screenwriter.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Joining the set of a daytime soap opera.”

She put her hands up in defense. “It’s just a rumor.”

“A stupid rumor. What kind of screenwriter in their right mind would want to work here?”

Petra paused for a second, deep in thought. “Fine, it might just be a rumor. Still, ask yourself, why would there be rumors circulating in the first place?"

Levi sighed. “Which screenwriter then?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to humor her. And himself. The fact that a big name screenwriter would work in soap operas, might actually make ‘soap operas’ work.

“Hange Zoe,” Petra said, a wry knowing look on her face. As if it was a name Levi was supposed to know.

“Hange Zoe?” And if he followed the same ups and downs of Petra’s tone, he could pretend it was familiar to his lips. “Hange Zoe,” he said again.

Petra nodded. “The writer of the Titan series? The final movie of `Advancing Titans’ is coming out in the fall.”

Advancing Titans. The name had seemingly come out of nowhere, especially when Levi had already run through a few possible names in his head. Hange Zoe hadn’t been one of them. Although she was a big name in the screenwriting industry for sure, the idea of Hange Zoe working with soap operas seemed almost preposterous.

“Hange Zoe…” Levi said it one more time, in surprise or in some attempt to practice saying it. “You’re seriously talking about that writer?” Levi looked to Petra for confirmation. Hange had only ever written one movie series from a completely different genre, which begged a question.“She has some experience in soap operas?”

Petra unlocked her phone, opened the browser and started typing and scrolling. “No… Just the movies…” she muttered a second later.

“Then why do you think she would suddenly want to work in a cheap ass day time soap opera?”

Petra looked back at him, a dumbfounded look in her face. “But the timing just fits too well. The final movie is about to be released. Apparently, she didn’t renew her contract with her studio. There are even rumors of her leaving the movie industry… And there were speculations and everything.”

“Retirement?” Levi suggested.

“Why retire in your thirties?” Petra said.

“Well, when you’re earning millions per script…” Levi trailed off. Thinking up an argument was too much of a tall order. He continued flipped through channels in silence and he had managed to pick out the movie ‘Advancing Titans’ by just a few seconds worth of a scene.

Speak of the devil.

But it wasn’t strange at all to come across the movies while flipping through channels. After all,  Advancing Titans had become a household name over the past few years.

A person in a green cloak was flying, killing some man eating a zombie. It was a familiar scene, Even Levi, who almost prided himself in never having watched the movies, was familiar enough with the iconic movements, the colors and the insignia on the back.

The wings of freedom. How the hell that was connected to the story, Levi never watched enough to find out. Nor was he interested. Science fiction and fantasy were just never his cup of tea.

If Levi had to guess, soap operas and crime dramas shouldn’t have been big wig screenwriter Hange Zoe’s cup of tea either, especially after dedicating years of her life into a production as complex as a science fiction, dark fantasy cinematic universe..

“Do you really think Hange Zoe can actually work with low budget soap operas?” Levi asked.

Petra shrugged and Levi wondered why he had even asked her in the first place. Of course, she wouldn’t know. Still, she spoke up. “Even if the rumors were wrong and it wasn’t Hange Zoe. The important thing is they get someone to pump out scripts right? And your job anyway is to make sure everything gets filmed.”

“I guess.” Levi kept his eyes trained on the screen. The scene shifted from a forest, to the cobblestoned streets in town. A parade of miserable soldiers entered the town within the walls. The camera focused on a father, who navigated through crowds of people, zooming in one of the shorter soldiers.

Captain, I wanted to talk to you about my daughter… She wrote me a letter… She’s too young to get married.

Something about the expression of the soldier pulled Levi in. For a moment, he was frozen on his seat, completely hypnotized.

Petra’s voice tore into his trance. “That’s one of the scenes I can never forget.”

In some desperate bout of retaliation, Levi switched the channel of the TV. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Why? You okay?” Petra asked.

“I’m fine. I’d rather watch something more productive.” Levi flipped more rapidly through channels. He was tempted to just turn off the TV and call it a night.

“There’s a lot to learn from watching that,” Petra started.

"Like what?" Levi asked, his grip on the remote was still firm.

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “It's hard to explain... but remember that scene just a while ago. The father approached the captain about his daughter… She died while fighting the titans and they had to empty the cart so they lost all the bodies..."

Levi kept his eyes glued to the screen, suddenly hyper aware that there might have been a judgemental or impatient look on his face. “Go on,” Levi said, as if that could do anything to placate the discomfort already apparent in her voice.

“I guess the point I wanted to make is…” Petra still seemed far from calm. “Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she writes really quality works apparently is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the blocking, to the screenwriting and just the overall production… Which makes the storyline and the movie so gripping. When I watch it, it feels like the movie is peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“A lot of the novelty of Hange Zoe’s writing… The parts that make it special are those in betweens. The parts she left unwritten... if you know what I mean?"

“That’s cool,” Levi responded, only barely. He switched to their local channel, to the late night reruns of the soap opera. .

“They’re good movies. I don’t think they were overrated," Petra said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"I never said they weren’t good movies."

"You don't seem to want to hear about it at all."

"I'm just not interested. Besides, I'm too busy with work." That was the right moment to feign business. Levi held his phone in front of him, opened up the browser and wrote out a few familiar keywords. The movies of the titan series were all ranging from four to five star ratings. Whether it had been commended for cinematography or writing, he had been too lazy to check the more detailed reviews.

The reviews were most likely raving, sloppily made and potentially biased and Levi didn’t want to hear another synonym for ‘peers into your soul.’

His eyes were drooping, he was exhausted. Petra seemed to be ready to leave as well. But he had some space, he needed some break. And what better way to spend it than to do a little stalking? "Petra, could you send a file of the first movie? I think I might wanna watch it."

"You can stream the older ones on demand," Petra said.

Levi only had to open the menu on his TV to see the option for streaming. Right. Watching movies was starting to feel like a chore though and he was in no mood watching that night.

He didn’t say much else after that and the night ended with greetings exchanged. Petra only lived a few floors below him and it didn’t feel any different from being alone.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep already. He gave up, turned off the TV and allowed himself to doze off. When he came to his senses again, the sun was streaming through the window, and with work starting in an hour or so, he had little to no time to even start the movie.

The set was small. The budget was miniscule. The turnover rate was high.

And for projects that wanted to disguise themselves as official and corporate, it was utter chaos. One week into his job, Levi had to admit, he was reaching too widely, and he was spread out too thin.

There was a semblance of structure within his team. Petra and Eld worked with cinematography, filming and camera management and all he had to do was make sure the blocking looked good, limit the amount of retakes needed. Gunther and Oluo worked in post production and video editing.

But structure was an illusion.

The actors hadn’t arrived yet. Other new roles hadn't been finalized. The script was still unfinished. Yet, they were under the mercy of the vision of higher ups

"We're heavily delayed,’ or so that was what Erwin had explained. ‘Feedback of the higher ups.”

There were deadlines, unreasonable deadlines for the employees, yet a reasonable wait for the average audience. They had less than a month to finish filming and post production for the first few episodes of the new season, less than a week to produce everything for the old season.

When he was in a pseudo-management role, as a cinematographer, it was automatic. When filming, he should be going down to the set. But they weren't filming yet. In fact, there were people in the set not doing anything.

In the chaos, everything didn't seem to add up. So Levi forced one memorandum, one attempt at structure. He would finish the final editing by that night and start the next day with a blank slate. Even if he needed to, he would stay until midnight to make it work.

That new writing team should be coming soon. Levi repeated to himself. Erwin had said so himself, Petra had also mentioned it excitedly over lunch.

All Levi had to do was get the episodes ready for review by the higher ups, then ready for airing then he could start that new season with a healthier approach, maybe find some way to add more structure to his already hectic job.

“Petra, don’t wait for me. I’m working overtime today.”

Petra jumped on her seat.

Levi only realized then, he had come up from right behind her. And Petra had been busy reading through something in her laptop, a quick glance confirmed, it was the unfinished script.

Levi continued. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Petra looked back at him, a worried look in her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Deadlines,” Levi answered.

“You need any help? You know Oluo and Gunther, they can stay too. Or even me.”

“I can finish it myself,” Levi said. He was completely aware either way that it was his job to review everything before anyone else reviewed and before it went on air.

There was an indignant look on Petra's face. But Petra never really imposed. She nagged, doted, argued but she never imposed.

And he managed to pacify her by requesting an espresso and a cup of tea from the tea shop right in front of the studio. Beverages were frowned upon in the video editing room. Levi though was particularly meticulous, he was tired and stressed and he allowed himself some leeway.

Just today. And when they start filming the new season, during the hiatus, Levi would reopen his work with a more organized approach, more suited for his personality. He constantly reassured himself of that as he continued to edit the videos, crosschecking with storyboards and scripts.

Most of the work had been done. Most of the work had been easy to scan through. Still it was hours of sifting through retakes, reviewing and setting them up for reviews and cuts. In the silence, completely alone, He gladly gave the task the required focus, more than enough not to have noticed the sound of the door click behind him.

“This is the coffee you asked for right?” The voice wasn’t Petra’s but still it didn’t seem at all hostile. In fact, the voice seemed friendly.

Friendly enough for Levi to feel obliged to respond.”Thanks.” A new hire maybe? In the one week he had been working there, three people had already quit.

It wasn’t worth a second thought. The important thing was he got his coffee and tea. So he didn’t bother looking up, only looking with his peripherals to see the paper white of the cup just a few inches away. He reached one hand towards the cup and surprisingly, his hand didn’t grasp for paper. It went for something a little softer, something a little cooler but still warm to the touch.

And it moved. A bug? A pest? That had been Levi’s first speculation, being the paranoid clean freak he was. Before his guesses could get anymore creative he looked at the cup and saw the cup was stable on his desk. He had a grip, not on the cup itself but on the other hand which held the cup. The movements were from a hand underneath his..

A wild hand. It slipped out of his grip, and before Levi could pull away, it gripped him in return, squeezing harder on his pointer finger and his middle finger.

For just a second. A painfully awkward second.

A second of realization was all Levi needed to pull away. “May I help you?” he asked. It took a lot more willpower not to curse at that strange invasion of privacy. A second later, reason took over and Levi realized that he was the one who had gripped her first.

He had planned to grip the coffee cup, he justified himself.

“They said… You needed some coffee.” The voice was nonchalant. Yet somehow, nonchalance had managed to make his blood boil. “So I came here to drop it and say hi,” she added, as if that was the most natural response.

‘Say hi’ didn’t usually involve two hands gripping one another, then interlocking. Her hands were still gripping the tip of his fingers and for a second they were frozen.. “Are you always this touchy then?” Levi pressed. Especially with a total stranger. Levi looked up, turned his head towards the voice and confirmed it, she was definitely a familiar face but they were barely even acquaintances.

Brown hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses propped comfortably on her nose and just underneath them, warm brown eyes that had no problem just staring, studying… And in their own way, leaving Levi very very jarred by the mundane gesture called ‘eye contact.’

“I was hoping to talk for a bit,” she said. “If you’re not too busy, we can---”

“I’m busy right now,” Levi said. He pulled the coffee closer to him, suddenly careful when awareness dawned on him abruptly. Suddenly, he was completely aware that the coffee cup was only a few inches away from the computer. “Can this wait?”

Those brown eyes were suddenly wider, a hint of surprise. Then they narrowed at him and Levi felt some pity blanket his already sluggish and aimless movements. Before he knew it, he was very very unproductive.

He had to do something. “My name is Levi by the way.” He was deliberately gentler that time and usually lowering his voice and slowing down did some magic to make him seem kinder than he usually seemed to new people. Or so, that had been what Petra had advised multiple times before.

Levi looked up, forced a subtle smile, a combination between a tightlipped line and crinkles at the edge of his mouth. The most he could manage for a courteous introduction.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. He noticed her eyes first, the way they widened. Her jaw dropped. She closed it again, a subtle twitch in her lip.

Did I say something wrong? Levi thought to himself. He looked back at the computer screen. “Levi… Levi Ackerman,” he added. Would that help ease the tension of the room?

Even when Levi started to make a game for himself, playing video edits again and again, he realized he was more focused on pretending to concentrate than in actually polishing the transitions between scenes.

Hange eventually spoke up. “Hello Levi. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was softer in that last sentence.

“Nice to meet you too.” That had been surprisingly difficult to say. He sensed the discomfort in her voice, and maybe he had unknowingly mirrored it.

“My name is Hange Zoe. I’m going to be working as a screenwriter here…”

Oh. Oh. So that’s Hange Zoe. For someone who spearheaded blockbuster hits, who had people talking like crazy over rumors, it turned out she was a very underwhelming presence.

“I’m the cinematographer here,” Levi said. Technically, that was his job title but at that point, he was doing everything. “So I guess we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“We will,” Hange responded. Her presence was underwhelming. So underwhelming that Levi felt no need to even be excited that they had a prodigy screenwriter in their midst. Her voice was soft when she spoke to him. Her eyes were some mix of disappointment, nervousness, uncertainty.

Levi suspected it was her demeanor, her approach towards him that had caused such tension to settle in such a tiny room. “Thank you for coffee,” Levi said. Any nice gesture seemed like a worthwhile attempt to ease it.

A wide smile played at Hange’s lips, still far from what Levi would have considered confident though. “Happy to help.”

That’s the award winning screenwriter? “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’m going to be working on a few scripts tonight, have Erwin look at them in a day or so,” she said. Her voice had shifted to something more professional, and her meekness was starting to feel more like a misinterpretation on Levi's end..

“Looking forward to them,” Levi said.

The door slammed behind him, a little louder than the click that followed. The room was dim, it was almost distracting. When Levi turned towards the lights, he considered turning it on, to save himself the discomfort of sore eyes.

He turned his chair, put enough wait into one leg only to notice the sluggishness, the numbness underneath. His legs were jelly. Her hands were trembling and his breaths weren’t coming out in predictable bouts. He turned back to the computer and prepared to review what he had already edited.

The video was playing and Levi was convincing himself that he was productive.

Halfway through the episode, or even a quarter through the episode (Levi wasn’t counting), his mind had wandered. When his surroundings just became a little too overwhelming, Levi let loose just a little bit. He let the heaviness in his chest and the stiffness of his limbs speak for him then.

That voice of a while ago, Hange Zoe’s voice. That voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 29 (NSFW-lite)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read chapter twenty-eight (NSFW)

Title: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED

Words: 5.6k

Summary: I am very uncomfortable with the vibe we have created in the studio Infirmary today...

Warnings: mentions of abuse, suicide

ST Rambles: So... I graduated nursing school. And will be taking my licensure exam next month and start working as well...

In my time away, other than the above mentioned accomplishments, I've been reading a lot of books and even went to see an internet friend just last weekend. Life got insane and I needed to focus on school, and I do appreciate the patience and enthusiasm.

I hope this was worth the wait. I hope the next part will be even more so ;)

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER // @elmidol

Fucking, fuck!

“I know in academy you were told to pierce the skin at a forty-five-degree angle, but it works a lot better if you-,”

“Go in at a fifteen-degree-angle, go parallel to the skin. I know,” you huffed, embarrassment burning your skin. “That’s not the issue. I do that. The issue is-,”

“That is the issue,” Silver corrected, interrupted. Your preceptor-for-all-intents-and-purposes crossed her arms and stared at you with hard, unyielding eyes. “You won’t listen to me,” she spat. “You are the issue.”

Calliope Silvren, or “Silver”, as she’d informed you upon meeting, was everything you were supposed to be. And you hated her for that fact, hated her for that and so much more.

She was intelligent and concise and respected, she knew everything and made sure you were aware that you didn’t. During the past eleven hours, not with so many words, Silver had made it clear that you were never supposed to be here to begin with, that hers was the name in the original provider candidate pool and you were nothing but a fluke, a nobody, nothing.

Compared to Silver, compared to Calliope fucking Silvren, who’d graduated valedictorian, who had star-white hair and golden skin, whose eyes were a harsh sea of frozen cerulean, whose legs were long and lips were full and head was high and posture was perfect – compared to the program’s prototype? What were you other than a fluke? A whim? Compared to her, how were you anything more than the fascination you’d been labeled as from the very start?

As you stared up at her, her height almost that of Kylo’s, and felt the wrath of that frozen sea that resided behind her glare, you couldn’t speak. Every word of defense left you, and your mouth dried and your chest hollowed. Because her words not only rippled through your head but echoed through the unit’s halls so every nurse and physician and maintenance worker had heard them. Heard her and how superior she was, heard how incompetent you were.

Silver knew what she’d done, could feel the eyes of her coworkers gawking at her scolding; you knew by the smallest quirk to her lip, the slightest tick in her platinum brow. She had you trapped and on display, and all you could do was stand here and take it. The Board was watching, and so was Hux – CB-7070 always shadowing ten paces behind – you had no choice but to remain neutral-faced and silent.

She spoke your name and it was beautiful, a voice like sugar even when it slithered and bit like venom, “We’ll pick up tomorrow. If you absolutely need me, I’ll be organizing my report sheets for the oncoming shift.” When no one was looking anymore, her eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “Busy yourself for the next hour.” A sneer slipped past the benevolent mask she wore. “Don’t need me.”

With a steel spine, she whipped past you, stalking off toward her task, the white of her hair streaking from your periphery. And there you were, clutching an IV starter kit – missing the needle, much like you’d missed the vein – trying your hardest to keep from showing any emotion whatsoever. Less people were gawking now that Silver had left, but you still felt eyes on you. Whatever lay in those lingering stares, pity or humor or apathy, it all burned you, reminded you how temporary you were. Not only in this place – the “Infirmary” as the staff referred to it – but in your life, as well.

Smoothing the skirt of your uniform, you cleared your throat and turned to do as you were instructed, catching CB-7070’s visor for a second before peering around the unit. She faced you, and even though you couldn’t see her face, you knew she may be the only one around who was on your side. The white of her helmet glinted as she gave a small nod in your periphery. Yeah, she wasn’t so bad, no matter who she’d report to the second you got back to the Consulate.

The Infirmary was a large unit, and, unlike any place you’d practiced in since graduation, it was efficiently staffed and stocked. Safe nurse-to-patient ratios, sufficient supplies, and an allocated provider available for any emergent orders or treatments. It was a surreal representation of the “hospital utopia” you’d heard of all throughout school.

But, aside from its apparent perfection, some characteristics of the unit confused you, but you didn’t ask about it because no one else seemed to think it was weird, and Silver didn’t exactly foster a great learning environment.

What struck you first was the Infirmary’s construction and layout. It was all glass, floor to ceiling windows that offered full views of each patient in their respective rooms. You’d watched the sun dance across the sky as the day went on, nothing hindering you from the beautiful view of the sea beyond the fanned-out city below. The only thing that offered a semblance of privacy for each patient was the wall-spanning mirror positioned in front of their beds. None of them saw each other, but it was still odd that there seemed to be no concern towards the errant lapse in privacy policy the design created.

At the center was the nurses’ station, large and circular, a skylight fixed right above. The staff used the lack of patient privacy to their advantage, peering above the counter to make sure their assignments were doing alright. Their assignments who were all under the age of twenty. Some much younger, just grasping at adolescence, others kissing young adulthood – those seemed much worse off, something darker rimmed their eyes, ghosted behind the lifeless face all of them wore.

It was a strange environment to be in, even more so due to how vague the progress notes were, history and physicals extremely short and never too in depth, especially when it concerned anything related to the patients’ family history or living situations. Something seemed off, something that tugged at you and made you yearn to break past the flat affect each patient met you with.

So many were here for a few hours and then gone the next, a constant influx of admissions and discharges. But, so strangely, there was never any patient education given, never any parents or guardians for the younger ones to go home to. They were always escorted from the unit by two “official personnel”. And watching their faces as Silver told them they were done with treatment and could leave, it killed you to see the faintest slash of fear quiver their bottom lips.

Beyond that, beyond seeing these younglings so fearful and defenseless, what clawed at your gut the most was that none of them had a name. They had no birthdate information, no address listed, no family contacts entered or even offered. They were all in the system only by the letters “FL” followed by a code of eight numbers. The nurses would refer to them by their room numbers to make it simpler, but none of them shared your concern for the lack of identity these patients were plagued with.

Yes, something seemed off, seemed wrong here. Something waswrong here, but you feared you would be gone before you ever knew what that was.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a tray left on an isolation cart next to a door. Heeding Silver’s command, you approached it, discarding the IV kit and feeling CB-7070’s focus catch your every step. You’d passed this door frequently, never seeing anyone approach it for longer than a few seconds at a time, assuming it was a closet for extra supplies or scanning machines. But the meal card on the tray indicated differently.

This was a patient’s room. The room number matched, there were no other doors labeled with it that you could see. No staff paid you any attention as you peered around. The only one watching was your white-armored shadow standing against a pane of glass.

Shrugging to yourself, feeling you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for delivering a patient’s food, you said over your shoulder to CB-7070, “I’m taking this in. I shouldn’t be long. Don’t follow me in here.” More to yourself, you sighed, “Even if I am the only one here concerned about privacy, I’d prefer not to violate anyone’s rights on my first day.”

CB-7070 nodded. “Affirmative,” her modulator croaked.

A swipe of your new badge gained you access past the door, a whoosh of air whipping through your skirt as it closed behind you. It was pitch dark, the only light coming from a holo-chart programmed into the wall. It appeared you were in an antechamber, those that often came with isolation patients, but there was nothing indicating this patient had any infection or ailment that necessitated a gown or mask.

The air was stale, like nothing and no one had stirred it in a few days, and the only glass visible was that of a window peering into the room beyond – or, it would be peering, were there not closed blinds on the other side of it.

You saw yourself in that darkened pane, clutching the tray to yourself, the first glimpse you caught of your face since the start of shift. Truthfully, you looked awful. Hair frizzed at your temples, a sheen of oil had gathered on your forehead, and exhaustion was evident in the puffy bags beneath your eyes.

But it was an earned appearance, no matter what Silver wanted you and everyone else to believe. Today you did your best and you interpreted and communicated abnormal findings, you assessed every patient without bias and documented everything you did. There were things you were unsure of, not having performed many skills while being assigned to Kylo, but you always asked for help, even though you realized it would be met with disgruntled aggravation after the first few times.

You had done everything right, understanding the consequences if you didn’t. As far as you were concerned, and even as much doubt as she’s caused you in the singular day you’ve known her, Silver was the problem. Not you.

And, not for nothing, the IV you missed earlier… not entirely your fault.

Kylo Ren picked the wrong day to Force-edge you. Or maybe it was you who really initiated the torture, but he’d been the one to follow through with his threat. Every hour had been memorable.

The first three had luckily occurred when you were away from patients but did earn you a few wary glances from the unit staff, your jaw set firm as you gave them a reassuring nod, hoping they couldn’t see how badly you were shaking as your cunt spasmed toward orgasm, but never got there.

There was something vicious in the rate at which he was forcing you toward the edge. Even though you couldn’t see or hear him, you felt like he was tormenting you with spite in mind rather than pleasure, like something you’d said or thought had angered him.

You didn’t have much time to consider that, though, as the hours went on and you’d begged the stars that the slick slipping from your center wouldn’t go past the hem of your dress. A few times you’d cursed the damned uniform, but quickly turned to cursing Kylo Ren for the ever-so-slightly too high hem. It’d surprised you that he never acted on those silent curses aimed at him, that it hadn’t earn you another hour riding the edge of pleasure while choking down the gasps and moans he’d surely intended to draw from you.

During lunch, you’d found a corner and ate alone, speaking to the wall and scorning Kylo under your breath, spitting empty threats, telling him to stop, to slow down. When that hadn’t worked and the Force picked up in pattern and pressure, nudging your clit just right, your hands had clamped around a plastic fork as you held on for dear life. He was nowhere near you and you’d almost cum four times over the course of your twenty-five-minute break. At that point, you’d considered begging him to let you cum, but part of you knew that would only lengthen his schemes.

Other times during shift, when Silver was rolling her eyes when you’d asked for her help, you’d felt the light, teasing lance of the Force trail along your neck. When you were priming tubing for a new admission, you’d felt the strange, unseen presence caress your ear like Kylo’s tongue might. And one hour, right after the previous had left you wondering if you’d be able to stand the next time you needed to – that hour where you’d traded your curses for pleading, traded the harshness you were spitting for the simple, hushed breaths you needed to outlast the never-ending torrent of pleasure he kept surging through you – the Force was kinder, something sentimental in the way it’d weighted your body like Kylo would, draped itself along your shoulders as sweat dried on your brow and the shaking of your legs settled.

A delicate, “Thank you,” had breathed over your lips when the Force – when Kylo’s teasing – seemed it would let up for the remainder of your shift.

But, of course, that peace had been temporary, a strategy to lapse your guard, to make you vulnerable when you’d most needed a clear mind and a steady hand. It had started with the gentle lulls you’d been left with, a stroking tendril swift over the column of your neck, the tourniquet tight to the patient’s arm as you poked their forearm in search of a vein. And when you informed Silver you’d found one, the Force deftly switched its attention to your pussy.

Silver had been scrutinizing you before, but when your shaking hand and short, shallow breaths appeared as fear instead of the pleasure they were born from, her brow had narrowed that much more. When you’d anchored the vein and aligned the needle – at her all-important fifteen-degree angle – your hand had shifted, jumped as your thighs tightened and you fought to trap a moan in your throat. It was an accident that the needle pierced the patient – and, worse, through the vein – at a greater angle, and it wrought you with emotion. Guilt for hurting the patient, shame for screwing up under Silver’s icy appraisal, and unyielding anger for Kylo Ren for causing your fuck up and not being able to explain that.

So here you were, taking the brunt of criticism and punishment for a mistake you wouldn’t have made had it not been for Kylo Ren, and studying your reflection in the scant light offered from the holo-chart of a patient you hadn’t known existed up until three minutes ago.

“Kylo,” you breathed, reaching for the second badge-scanner, “I can’t look bad here. The Board is watching. Hux is watching.” You glimpsed the radar fastened to your wrist, directing your tired eyes at Kylo’s indicator like he could feel your attention on him. “Give me this last hour and let me be good. Let me do well. Let me prove that I can to everyone who believes otherwise.”

A few seconds passed by as you waited for a reaction. Nothing came. The Force remained absent from you, and your shoulders dropped in relief. With a final glance at the chart, noting the patient’s identifier and checking it against the meal ticket, you swiped your badge and the entrance rushed open.

Darkness met you once more, but this darkness was heavier somehow. Not in the way untouched rooms are usually heavy – not with dust or grime – but a heaviness that clutched at your heart. It pressed into you, taunted you even as you remained a step outside the threshold. It was only shadows, unmoving and unremarkable darkness, but it clawed at you. It writhed at your feet and stirred your heart.

This was the darkness that lived behind each of those younglings’ eyes, but here it was concentrated, like this was the very source of it. Like this was its home.

“Hello?” you croaked, still not daring to pass into the shadow-thick room.

No answer, not even a stir. Nothing but that unyielding darkness.

You cleared your throat. “I, um, I have your dinner.” You took a small step forward. “Sorry for the wait… if there was one.”

More of the same. More of nothing.

A light switch entered your periphery with your next step, and you reached for it, but before you could flip it—

“If I wanted it on, do you think I’d be sitting in here like this?”

The voice was weak, small, but not that of a child. Not even that of an ill person, or an elderly one. It was male, though. Boyish, but not a boy’s. Somehow, the voice was young and old at the same time, as if the boy had lived long years already, and those years had worn him down.

The voice was a singular stream against the dark’s thick, silent wrath, and it was hollow, empty like the shadows before you should be. As the question ended, you found that it wasn’t bitterness or pain that lived in its tone, but rather a broken apathy, like whoever this was had cared and fought for so long but had ultimately lost in the end.

“Not that anyone here is really concerned about what I want,” came the voice again, an edge weighting its words.

Finally, you stepped completely into the room. You had to swallow a gasp when the entrance at your back locked shut. The tray jostled in your arms, but you succeeded at remaining upright.

With a sugary tone, you asked, “How will you eat if you can’t see your food?”

A huffed laugh, tired and bitter. “You should work on that nurse voice. Not very convincing.” A long, deep breath filled a few otherwise silent moments. “Send that tray back. Give it to someone who wants it.”

Without your “nurse voice”, you said, “Why did you order it—”

“—I didn’t. I never do. I’m being kept here, why would I want to sustain myself to make my stay that much longer?”

“Kept?” you whispered.

The longer you stood in place, the more your eyes adjusted. The room was still suffocated by the swamp of darkness, but there was some light after all. Scant, but there, a beam of the setting sun speared the room, and from what you had begun to make out of the body in front of you – a small form curled in the center of a bed – you found he was staring out of the broken blinds from which it came, like he was looking at something. Looking forsomething.

“Kept. Held prisoner. Restrained but not restrained because thatwould make this whole operation illegal, right? Whatever way you want to put it, I’ve made it obvious I don’t want to be here.” A long pause and a sad sigh. “Starvation is a better fate than most here, anyway.”

The more he spoke, the clearer it became that his voice wasn’t hollow, but burning with quiet fury. For what, you weren’t sure, but you realized this was the first patient who had spoken all day. And his tone, his words, only solidified the fact that there was something very, very wrong going on.

You walked closer to him, past the foot of his bed until you saw where the small slant of light was focused, what he continued to brokenly fawn over.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, leaning down so you could match your view with his.

He turned his head from the mostly covered window, the creak of light only possible through a bend in the blinds, and he looked at you, a flash of realization spreading through his features before he reined his expression into a void of dull emotion.

He stared at you as you stared at him, appraising you just the same. He was young, but it appeared as though his youth had been leeched from him. Long dark brunette curls framed his face and teased his shoulders, heavy with oil inherent of unkemptness. An immense sadness lived in the downturned state of his mouth, a contrasting anger set in the crease of his brow. And when you finally found his eyes, you restrained a shiver, as the deep hazel burned with that cleave of sun and struck you with the anvil of pain and desperation that lived in them.

He wasn’t alarmed at your proximity but confused. With a shaky voice, and something of a weak sneer biting at his mouth, he said, “You’re a sick, brutal cunt, you know that?”

“What? What do you—”

“What am I looking at? Do not patronize me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Are you stupid or just cruel?”

“I’m not either, I—”

“You’re both!”

“I’m temporary! I don’t work here! I’ve been here for one shift! I’ve been on this planet for one day!”

Without missing a beat, but less heated and more restrained, the boy said, “Just stupid then.”

He continued to glare at you, but your eyes wandered back to the break in the blinds, and with narrowed eyes you found something that resembled a racing track. It was far out in the distance, but you knew that was what he had been focused on, sure of it by the way his demeanor shifted when you looked back down at him.

“Help me understand, then, if I am so stupid,” you whispered.

“You aren’t any different from the others, no matter if you’re temporary or not. Whatever that means, anyway.” The boy’s jaw set so firm you swore you heard it crack. “You don’t want to understand. If you did, if anyone cared so much, the Infirmary wouldn’t exist.”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Help me?” the boy barked. He considered you for a moment, sun and shadow warring across the hollows of his cheeks as he did. Those pained eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who are you? What does temporary mean?”

You leaned away from him, straightening your posture and setting his tray on a counter off to the side. You offered your name, just the first, and dragged an absent-minded finger over the embroidery of your uniform. “Temporary means…”

Perhaps it was his already non-existent trust in you, but you did not think that informing him of the real reason you were here – telling him that your license and life were on the line and you were here so the Board of Physicians would have ease in their decision to end your life or not – would do much to foster his confidence in you, you took a second to frame it in a way that would appeal to him.

Clearing your throat, you kept his stare and said, “Temporary means that I’m here for less than two weeks, and I have no loyalties to any staff here. Temporary means that I do care so much, and I do want to help because temporary also means that I’ve seen some weird shit today, and I don’t understand it.” The boy’s brows raised for a fragmented second, but you knew you’d gained at least a small portion of his respect, so you continued.

With a lowered voice and an unbreakable stare, you said, “Temporary means that I am on your side, and if you let me, if you help me to understand what is going on, I will help you as best as I can.”

The boy shifted, ringing a hand around his opposite wrist, toying with the identification band secured there. He never stopped looking into your eyes, and you knew he was searching for deceit, but the longer he stared, the more he came up short.

You offered him your hand, observing how he flinched away from it, but keeping it extended as he considered it for another few moments.

“I told you who I am. Will you tell me who you are?”

It seemed like the darkness that surrounded you was watching with bated breath, watching in awe as the boy’s gaze remained on your extended hand.

He swallowed, and ever so slowly, with a hesitation that struck through your heart, he lifted his hand and clasped it around yours. The light from the broken blinds coiled around your matched hands, and for the first time today, you felt hopeful. And no matter how dim and breathless it was, a flicker of that same hopefulness played through his eyes.

“I…” the boy hesitated, so you squeezed his hand and offered a reassuring nod. His shoulders relaxed with his next breath. “I am Quynnland. With a ‘Y’.”

“Quynnland,” you parroted, trying it out and letting his hand go. “Do you have any nicknames? Like Quynn? Quynnie?”

“No one calls me Quynnie!” he roared. “Nobody calls me that except…” Quynnland shifted in bed, away from you, turning his face back toward that racing track. His bottom lip quivered, and he appeared as if you’d just lashed him with molten plasma.

“Quynnland,” you soothed, “nobody calls you that except who?”

He remained quiet, but he shuddered, and you saw the light glint off a stream that found its way down the slate of his cheek.

“I want to understand. I want to help you.” You swallowed against your throat, which had become markedly thicker since you last spoke. “Please, help me help you.”

Quynnland’s chin rose, his eyes fell shut, and he balled his hands into tight fists. He wasn’t angry, but in pain, and you knew from the sight of how broken he was that he’d been in pain for a long time now. Perhaps, it seemed, he had never known a day without it.

Just when you were about to speak, Quynnland coughed against a sob and whispered, “They won’t let me see him. He’s there on his own. He’s never been alone for this long.” A tight breath whipped into his chest. “They’re keeping me here so I age out. They’re keeping me away from him.”

“Who is he? What are you aging out of?” The more he offered, the more questions you thought of.

“I almost got us out this time,” he whispered. “I almost saved us both, but they caught me and dragged me away from him. He’s young, but that never stopped them before.” A wheeze of pain slipped from Quynnland’s lips. “They probably broke him just enough so he could still work.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you kept quiet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Quynnland spoke again. “My brother. That’s who gets to call me ‘Quynnie’. That’s who I tried to save, and that’s who is suffering because I failed.” He pushed an aggravated sound from his lungs. “The only way you can help me, is if you help him.”

“How do I do that?” you asked, watching as his fists relaxed at his sides.

Quynnland opened his eyes and bore the full weight of their pain into yours. He took a long breath and squared his jaw. “You get him away from the wardens, and then you get him out.”

“Where is he?” you asked, needing to know what that racing track he kept glancing toward was.

He went to answer, but a rush of motion sounded beyond his door, and just as quickly, the entrance to his room shot open. Quynnland ducked his head and balled his fists, and you turned to see that it was Silver who stood in his doorway. She wore an unfamiliar face, one of shock and terror, and you went to speak, but her hand whipped out and signaled that you would notbe saying a word until you left this room.

She stared at Quynnland a moment longer, surveying him like she’d never seen him before. “Eat your dinner. I won’t have you starving to death under my license, not now that this will be your last stay here.” Silver more so talked at him rather than directly to him, and her tone was hard and full of disgust.

It gave you another reason to hate her.

You wanted to reach out and take Quynnland’s hand, but Silver snapped at you before you could. “You,” she sneered. “Out. Now.”

The ice behind her eyes had seeped to her tongue, and her words froze the very blood in your veins. She watched you as you stepped around her and into the antechamber, and you glanced the final withering, aghast glare she shot at Quynnland as you did.

When you reached toward the door that opened to the hall, Silver caught your wrist just before your badge met it. She was eerily silent for a moment, and you swore she was practically shaking with rage, but then she settled herself and stared down at you with such concentrated antagonization that it knocked the breath right from your lungs.

“What made you think you could go into this room? I never went near this room with you today. Why would you be allowed to enter it alone?” She was seething, but she hid it behind something of a gnarled smile.

“There was a tray just sitting outside, unattended to. I figured I would find something to do and deliver it to the patient. No harm done.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes on you. “Are you aware what this patient is here for?” she asked sweetly, but it came off as clear condescension.

Silver waited for you to answer, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she wanted from humiliating you again. So you remained silent, and she sneered at you. “Exactly what I thought. So why would you interact with a patient you know nothing about? And did the double security not tip you off that you were somewhere you shouldn’t be?”

“Look, Silver,” you huffed, enjoying the disgust that smeared across her features as you said her name, “I saw a tray. I had nothing better to do. My badge had access to the room. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

She cast you an undying glare, and her eye twitched when she gave you a once-over. “This patient willfully tried to kill himself and his brother last week. Did he tell you that?”

Your heart blackened, and your ears rang with silence as she let her words sink in.

Silver was pleased with your shocked silence. She went on. “Oh, and did he tell you just how many times he’s tried to do this exact thing in the past?” You remained wordless, feeling betrayed for reasons you couldn’t understand. “No? Not even a guess? Well, he’s a unit regular, if that gives any indication.”

She waited again and was once more elated to be met with silence. “It’s the same story every time. The wardens say he takes his kid brother to the shore and plans on swimming out to the Falls and either drowning to death or dying from impact.”

You swallowed in vain, mouth drier than sand. A part of your knew you didn’t want the answer, but you still asked, “How old… how old is his brother?”

A sick, deathly smile creaked across her perfect face. “Of course, we don’t know exactly, but previous scans estimate that he’s no older than seven.”

Seven. A child. Quynnland had tried to kill his brother… had tried to kill himself and his kid brother…

“Next time, don’t poke around business you don’t understand,” Silver cut your panic short, her frigid tone icing your skin with gooseflesh. “Your shift is up.”

She shoved your shoulder on her way past, but before she could activate the door the room filled with bright red light, and a shrill alarm screamed through the ruby darkness.

It was your watch.

Endless, screeching notes sounded from your wrist. Your stomach dropped, and you couldn’t think for a moment, completely thrown back to that last hour on Starkiller Base.

Kylo was in trouble. Kylo was hurt. Kylo needed you and you weren’t there.

When you lifted your arm as your heart sank through the floor and you read the continuous scrawling message, your feet pounded the ground and carried you away from the unit to wherever he was, wherever your radar was guiding you.

All you could think of was him lying under you, his blood slipping along your skin, and his still, comatose body. And as you made your way to him, not seeing the world around you, hardly aware of CB-7070’s footfalls booming behind you, you kept rereading the message that raced along your watch’s screen, and as you turned corner after corner and fled down hundreds of steps and staircases, the simple, abbreviated message taunted you with the past.

ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED

As it scrawled endlessly across the small screen, all you could think of was how this felt too familiar to the day Starkiller exploded. And the only thought that remained, the only one out of the thousand that flooded back from that day, was that you would fight for the future you’d realized you wanted then.

Only now did you admit the full truth of that thought: the only future you wanted was one where you could be with Kylo. The only future worth having, you realized, was the one where you would spend it with him.

So you ran toward your future. Just as you had run that day not so long ago, you ran toward Kylo Ren.

#keeping your promise #st kyp #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #smut #angst

[daydreamsofh]

Dreamy

A/N: Ahhhh! Hi, hello :) Here is my piece for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge! This is the first thing I have ever written,(please be gentle hehe) and I cannot believe you’re about to read it! Thank you, I love you forever. So much love goes to my girls, my best friend @haute-romance-quotidienne (you know how I feel about you) & @harryinsweatersandbandanas​- Ash thank you for your constant support and shared love for yearning over H :) 

And lastly, I have so much love and adoration for the girls that put this whole thing together. @for-fucks-sake-h ​ @oh-honey-styles ​ @andwhenshesays​, thank you all for being so brilliant and allowing us all the chance to try new things and for just constantly being people to look up to and admire. I love you all forever and ever, and I am the luckiest to know you. 

Word Count: 7.3K

Yearning, yearning, pining. more yearning, yearning, and some more yearning. Sometimes our wildest daydreams do come true. 

***

Dreamy soft green eyes watched you from the other side of the room before he shifted his eyes back to the person he was talking to. Arguably this was the hardest part of your friendship with Harry, to see him with other people, other women and knowing that you’d never measure up. Or at least in your eyes, you wouldn’t. And truthfully it had nothing to do with the women he dated. They had all been kind to you and tried to be your friend once they realized how big of a role you played in Harry’s life. They were all lovely and nice and funny, and generally good to him. It never had anything to do with them, and everything to do with you.

Over the years of your friendship with him it had gotten harder and harder to act like you weren’t totally, completely, annoyingly, hopelessly in love with him. Especially on nights like tonight.

Gathered in his lofty, but cozy house with dozens of his closest family and friends for a listening party to celebrate the release of his brand new spanking album. He’s already had two listening parties specifically for his fans, but he wanted to have one for the people that make up his support system, that keep him going when the world feels too big and scary. Plus being the narcissist he so naturally is, the ego boost of his most loved ones listening to his album first and loving it first was an added plus.

He’d told you for months how special this album was to him, and you had singlehandedly witnessed the sheer joy he felt while making it. So when he invited you to the listening party, with those big green eyes slowly blinking at you, of course you said yes.

**

Walking into his home you were greeted by Anne, who was already teary eyed just from simply seeing all of the people gathered together that make up Harry’s life. She jumped up from her seat once she saw you and wrapped you up in a warm hug.

“‘There she is! Always so wonderful to see you love. I’m happy you’re here, he’s been asking for you.’” She squeezed your arm and sent you a wink before leaving you to go find Harry.

Right as she was, once you turned your back from her his eyes caught yours and he made a beeline for you. Weaving in and out of the crowds of people he reached for your hand before pulling you in and burying his face in your neck. The gesture made you sway, having to brace his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall over. When he finally pulled back he had the biggest smirk on his face as his hand reached to cradle your head and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“‘Look who finally made it! Just in the nick of time like always. Hi Sweets.’”

Taking him in made you suddenly very glad you chose not to wear too high of heels tonight, because you almost fell over when you saw what he was wearing. Grey high waisted trousers, because why would anyone wear pants that actually sit on their hips correctly? A striped button top with the sleeves rolled up, and an over the top overly-grandpa sweater vest. His hair kept falling in his face and he had a content, soft, dreamy look on his face. Add the way he looked at you to the long list of reasons you loved him.

Looking up at him your stomach did a backflip before you breathed a small laugh and muttered, “Hi H, got quite the crowd tonight huh? It’s a shame more people don’t love you,”

“Oh yeah didn’t I tell you? I had to bribe everyone here with Gucci gift cards to get them to show up tonight,”

“Yeah I bet you did Gucci golden boy,”

That had him laughing deep in his chest before he playfully swatted at your arm, but just like always he was pulled in another direction as Jeff told him it was time to get the show on the road and get the listening party going.

“Gonna be okay on your own? Should I go grab you some tissues before we get started? Maybe some tea?” He said it with a shit eating grin on his face and a wink.

You narrowed your eyes at him before you replied, “You are a lot of things Styles but a comedian is not one of them! Get outta here before I change my mind and listen to it in the comfort of my own home,”

“Oh you wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t make me miss out on that cute face reacting to my groundbreaking musical mastery would you?” He winked at you after his oh-so funny quip and you thought you were going to actually pass out and hit the floor from him calling your face cute. You knew your voice would give out and that your cheeks were burning so you just shook your head no and smiled so hard your face started to ache. With that he was finally gone to give his thanks to everyone for attending and for some more mingling before they would actually start the party.

After he walked away, you bumped into your mutual friend Sam, who actually introduced you to Harry at one of his shows years ago.

“Hey babe! I’m so glad you made it, I was afraid you would be too weepy to come today. No offense, but I know how he makes you. Especially with his music. Something about boys with guitars, right?”

After you smacked him in the chest for his hilarious reminder of just how much you pine for Harry and have for years, you muttered a very matter of a fact, “For your information it is not ‘something about boys with guitars’ it is about one boy with a guitar, and I think I have a pretty good handle on my weepy-ness today, so sod off.”

He gave you a knowingly smile and you shot one right back because he was absolutely right.

Everyone in your inner circle knew how you felt about Harry. Actually, anyone who was around the both of you for more than a few minutes picked up on it. From the way you bantered and poked fun at each other to the way you laughed at every one of his stupid jokes, to the way you longingly and very dramatically gazed at him pretty much all the time. And who could blame you?

He made everyone he spoke to feel like the most important person in the world. It was overwhelming how intently he listened and watched people. He was the most kind hearted, patient man. You’d lost count of how many times he talked you off the ledge, how many times he reassured you when you doubted yourself at work, or how many times he called to check on you after you swore up and down to him that you were okay. It was overwhelming how much he cared. It was overwhelming how much he radiated love and understanding. And most of all it was overwhelming how being in the same room as him even for just a second made you feel like you could breathe again. He was like coming up for fresh air, every single time.

And if anything made you feel more overwhelmed than just simply looking at him, watching him perform was a close second. He was ridiculously talented, a natural performer, and just so annoyingly amazing at what he does. No matter how many shows of his you went to you found yourself getting emotional watching him do what he was born to do, he exuded talent and the fact that you got to witness him in action was something you would never get over. He teased you about it each time he watched you from the pit or sides of the stage blubbering, but nonetheless he loved the fact that he could get such a reaction out of you. You also swore you saw his ears tinge pink each time you told him how great of a show he put on. You knew how hard it would be tonight to listen to his brand new songs in his house, IN FRONT of him and all of your closest friends and not cry the entire time. Damn him and his dreamy musical mastery ways.

You watched him hop onto his fireplace alongside Jeff to give one of his famous speeches. His eyes scanned the room and he gave everyone a slow, smirking grin. A slow, honeyed one that warmed you from the inside out and made your chest feel light and fluttery.

“I just want to thank you all so much for taking the time to come out and listen to my album, I love you all endlessly and this album is just as much for you as it is for me.” Harry's eyes found yours again and “You all know how I feel about you so I won’t bore you with a long speech, I love you and thank you for being here. Enjoy.”

And with that he was gone and you lost him in the crowd. After all of the headphones were passed out and everyone had their instructions on how to go about actually playing the album, you were sat in a loveseat near one of the many windows in his house, tucked away from the rest of the crowd.

Sam took the seat next to you and gave you a reassuring smile before he said, “If it gets too much you can get up and leave. I know that you know who most of these songs are going to be about and I don’t want to see you upset. I’ll even give you a ride home.”

You smiled back at him and sighed, “I really think I’ll be okay. I’m always happy just to hear his voice you know? No matter how hard this will be I’m staying. He has all of my support regardless of the fact that these songs aren’t about me. I just wanna be here with him, for him.”

Another smile, “Okay babe, whatever you want.”

**

Headphones were finally passed out and it was time to actually listen to the album. But before you could do that, Harry found where you were sitting and leaned up against the wall closest to you. Before you could ask what he was doing he just smiled, actually beamed at you and shook his head.

“Just wanted to lay my eyes on you before you started listening.” He pushed off the wall and walked over to you, kissed you on the forehead and chucked his fingers under your chin. “You know it means the most to me that you’re here. You’re pretty important to me, know tha’?”

It was such a simple, friendly thing to say, and tears pooled in your eyes before you knew it. “Yeah I've gathered that, I’ll come find you when i”m done listening. Go on,”

You squeezed his hand and gave him a smile while fighting back tears. “Go on,” Harry finally walked away and you looked over at Sam who pretended he wasn’t watching your whole exchange.

You know he didn’t mean to but every time you had a moment like this between the two of you it always just felt like he was dangling a carrot in front of you. Dangling the chance of you being together for real, dangling the chance that he felt the same way, and you know he didn’t mean it to be mean, but in a way it was. You knew there was no way he didn’t know how you felt, how could he not? And for him to be so touchy feely with you and look at you with those soft eyes it just felt cruel. And unfair. How could he not know? How could he not see it? Anytime he walked in the room your eyes lit up and you watched his every move. You supported him unwaveringly and jumped at the chance to do anything you could to help him. Not in a love sick puppy kind of way where you doted over him and thought he walked on the moon, you just wanted him to be as successful as he could be and you knew his potential, and never wanted him to settle for anything less. All you wanted was the best for him. And you’d be lying if you said you wished you were the best for him.

You took a deep breath and pressed play on the first song. You had heard samples of a few songs from the album and hearing the whole thing almost felt like an out of body experience. Golden, Watermelon Sugar, Adore You, and Lights Up filled you with so much joy, excitement, and a buzz. His new sound was unlike anything you have ever heard, and you’d still say that even if you weren’t ya know, embarrassingly in love with him. He had found his new groove and it was so poetic and imaginative and just so, Harry. But the farther you got down the list of songs, your stomach dropped.

Obviously you knew that quite a few of these songs would be about her, and obviously there was nothing wrong with that. It was Harry’s album and written from his life experiences, he had every right to write about whoever he wanted. You just didn’t think it would hit you so hard. Falling was a beautiful, raw, purely crafted song and you loved it. But what really did you in was Cherry. Everything from the soft, heartbreakingly warm guitar strumming to his reserved, falsetto voice, to the words that were so obviously meant for someone else, you were done for. Oh god and then his screams at the end. How many times had you felt that way about Harry? How many times had you left a dinner party or one of his shows and watched him leave with someone else and made yourself sick from crying so much and so hard? How many times had you yelled, screamed at the wall for being so invested in him? For loving him so much it made you sick? Too many times. You were able to get through the rest of the album just fine, distracted by the up beat, funky songs. But once you got to the end of the album, your heart cracked wide open again after hearing Fine Line. It was the most beautiful, ethereal, transcendent song you had ever heard, and you couldn’t believe that you knew the person who was responsible for its creation.

Once you were finished listening to the album, you found yourself going back to Fine Line, playing a loop of him saying “You Sunshine, you Temptress”. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard, and you just sat there in awe of what you had just experienced.

You looked over at Sam who was already looking at you, and even he was crying. You had no doubt that there was a dry eye in the house.

Remembering that you had so foolishly told Harry that you would find him after you were done listening to the album you tried your best to slow your breathing and heart rate back down, and you wiped your eyes as best you could from the tears that took over a majority of your face. You knew how crazy you must have looked, and you hoped Harry wouldn’t notice that you looked the same as you did when you watched the episode of Grey’s Anatomy when Derek and Meredith FINALLY got together. You had cried THOSE kind of tears.

You stood up from the couch you were sat at and straightened your dress and shook out your hands. Taking a deep breath you wiped at your eyes once more and turned to look at Sam, who was already giving you a sympathetic smile.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. You shook your head and cleared your throat before you finally found your words.

“Well, you were right. Dammit why does he have to be so? So- just,” Throwing your hands up another tear rolled down your cheek.

Sam smiled and reached for your hand and brushed his thumb over the top, “I know babe. He is just so. I know you told him that you would go talk to him after you listened but you do not have to. I know how hard this was for you and I don’t want him to make you feel even worse. Do you want me to give you a ride home?”

You looked up at him and gave him the best smile you could. “No no I'm fine, I need to stay and go talk to him. I need to tell him how incredible this was, and that I love him. I think I can manage to do that.”

He gave you a reassuring smile and shook his head, “Whatever you need. I’ll be here for a little while longer if you change your mind.”

Before you got up you asked him, “How soppy do I look? On a scale of ya know 1 to soppy?” You asked him with the smallest laugh you could muster.

“You look beautiful. He’s gonna think so too.”

**

And with that you stood again and finally left to go find Harry. When you rounded the corner of his dramatically long hallway, you found him talking to Jeff and some of his other friends.

Just looking at him from across the room had you teary eyed and your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. It was like you could feel it in your fingertips just how much you loved him, and every glance he threw your way had you weak at the knees. All you wanted to do was walk over to him and wrap your arms around him and feel his warm hands caress up and down your arms. But you stayed put like you always did, and had your little daydream’s like you always did. As hard as it was to not be “with” him, you’d take anything you could get. Just being in the same room as him made you feel special, and made you feel lucky to know him. Lucky to hear him, lucky to see him, just lucky to know him.

Jeff noticed you lurking behind the both of them and nudged Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. Harry slowly turned around and his eyes softened immediately when he saw it was you. He took off towards you not even bothering to tell the people he was talking to that he was leaving. His gaze on you warmed you from the inside out and you started sniffling again.

He closed the gap between the two of you and you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked up at him as his familiar warmth surrounded you. He noticed your weepy eyes immediately and his smile shifted to one of concern. He reached for the crook of your elbow and pulled you in. When he quickly stepped back his hands framed your face and he blurted out a raspy, “Why’re you crying? What happened? Is the album that bad?!” He snorted out a laugh and you gave a matching one, “No no no of course not H. It’s incredible. Really really incredible. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled at him as widely as you could and squeezed his biceps, and for the first time he got an actual look at your face. 

Your eyes were definitely still teary and your lips were a bright shade of red and swollen. Your hair was still curled despite you nervously playing with it all night, and it did a good job of hiding your tears. Harry took you in all at once and you smelled so sweet, devine, familiar. Your eyes bounced between him and the floor and he had decided in that moment you had never looked more beautiful. So real.

He started snickering and asked you, “Is that why you’re so upset? Love you look like-”

“Like I just got hit by a bus? Yeah I’m aware H, thanks. And it’s all your fault” you finished with a laugh followed by a whimper.

“I was going to say you look beautiful. And exhausted. Why don’t we go sit somewhere and you can tell me what you really thought. Tha’ sound good?”

He was waiting for your reaction intently when Ben clamoed a hand on his shoulder and told him someone needed his attention right away. “Sorry to steal you away, uh oh are you- is everything okay?” Ben’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of you.

You spoke up first, “Oh yeah i’m fine, we’re uh- we’re good we were actually just about to go and talk” You shot Ben a small smile and looked back at Harry.

Ben leaned in and whispered something in Harry’s ear and that had Harry shaking his head in agreeance.

Harry glanced back down at you and said “Why don’t you go find somewhere to sit, where it’s uh- just the two of us and wait for me. I’ll only be a minute and I really wanna hear what you think”

His smile dimpled his cheek and carded his hand through his hair.

When you hesitated your reply he grabbed your hand and searched for your eyes again, he opened his mouth so say something else but you cut him off, “Yeah yeah sure I’ll just be uh where I was sitting earlier. Don’t take too long, I might start crying again” you laughed and Harry mirrored a matching one.

“I'll just be a minute, go get comfy” He kissed your forehead and then he was off. 

Turning around you tried to hide your squealing and practically ran back to the loveseat you were sitting at earlier. You weren't sure what your plan was, would tonight be the night that you finally, FINALLY confess your undying love for him? Would tonight finally be the night that you tell him what you’ve been feeling all of these years? He was eager to talk to you too, right? He was the one who suggested talking somewhere, alone? Oh dear god could he possibly be waiting to tell you the same thing?! Okay, okay no definitely not but still, maybe? He was awful eager to hear what you thought wasn’t he? Awful eager to go somewhere alone with you?

In your very long winded train of thought you realized you had been waiting an increasingly long time for Harry. You decided to get up and go look for him. You eagerly rose from the couch and padded down the hallway to go find him. Turning the corner your eager smile immediately dropped.

There he was, back turned to you surrounded by a crowd of various adoring women. You recognized a few of them, but not all. You stopped cold in your tracks. Your stomach fell to the floor as your tears clouded your eyes again, what the hell was he doing? This is what was so important that he had to leave you for? You weren't sure if you were more pissed off or upset. They all started laughing at something he said and as soon as Harry looked up from their reactions, his eyes caught yours. You felt your knees go weak and your chest start to heave.

Time to go. You held back your tears as you immediately went searching for your coat and your bag. You just wanted to get out of there, away from Harry and his bullshit lies about “wanting to know what you thought”. Clearly he was more interested in other things. You couldn’t believe he put you in this position, again. You felt so stupid for having hope that maybe he felt the same way about you. So silly of you to think, again that you were on the same level as the women that were in his league, in his world. You felt humiliated beyond belief that he put you here, again. You couldn’t stand to even look at him. You were hoping to leave without him seeing you again, weaving in and out of the crowd of people that filled his living room. You ignored people calling out your name to say goodbye, as you made a beeline for the back door. As short as you were Harry still managed to spot you before you reached the door.

He reached for your arm to stop you but you immediately shook his hand off. That caused him to stop you completely by jumping in front of you to get you to slow down.

His eyes found yours and as painful as it was to look at him.

“Oh my god love stop please what’s wrong? I was just about to go find yeh and talk to you- where are yeh going?’

You huffed. “Oh really? You were just about to come find me? Seemed pretty busy already Harry.”

He knew you using his full name instead of just H meant he was in deep shit.

“I was, honest! Why are yeh so upset?!”

You tried to push past him again but his strong hands on your biceps stopped you.

Looking straight up at the ceiling you squeaked out, “Harry I have to go. I can’t be here anymore and I have a work thing in the morning. “

“Tomorrow is Saturday sweets. I know you don’t have a work thing- and what the hell do yeh mean you can’t be here anymore?” He scoffed. “I thought yeh said yeh loved the album?”

Was he seriously using pet names with you right now? Was he looking to get his ass handed to him?

Looking directly at him you mustered all the courage you had left and said, “I can’t be here anymore and watch you get gawked over by other women, and I sure as hell can’t listen to you sing about her anymore. Please. H just let me go.” Your voice whimpered and a tear slid down your cheek before you finally managed to push past him.

Harry just stood there, dumbfounded. Had he heard you right? Christ had he heard you right?

He was quick to turn around and call out your name but you were already halfway out of the door frame. He begged you to stop but you just picked up the pace and practically ran to your car.

**

Driving home from the party all you could do was cry. Your tears clouded your visions and you were trembling, chest heaving trying to catch your breath. You were so incredibly proud of Harry, and his album. You tried to convince yourself that these were partly “happy” tears but you knew that wasn’t the truth. You knew it sounded cheesy but you have never wanted to be with him as badly as tonight. That was until you saw him with his new friend. But the more you tried to stay mad at him, you couldn’t. You still just wanted to be with him. And it wasn’t because he was Harry Styles and had a brand new (probably going to be platinum) album out. It was because he was Harry. Your H, your best friend, your favorite person. The man who put together a party where he was surrounded by everyone who loved him and who he felt the most safe around, all to just share his most personal album to date. He made this incredible piece of art and the first thing he wanted to do was share it with the people he loves the most, it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

You finally neared the street your apartment was on, and as soon as you got inside and pulled your phone out of your handbag, you already had 5 missed calls and voicemails to match. You knew you scared him with the way that you very dramatically stormed out of his place with tears in your eyes, but you just couldn't call him back. Or even begin to think to. Not only were you heartbroken and upset about the whole situation, you were also embarrassed for your outburst, or actual lack thereof. Damn him and his ability to make you lose all the words in your brain every time he looked at you. You put your phone away for the night, washed off your makeup and put on one of Harry’s old t-shirts you stole a couple years ago to sleep in. You pulled the covers over your head and finally drifted off.

**

The next few days consisted of Harry calling you every .2 seconds. He sent flowers, baked goods. He even sent you a loaf of bread, which he was sure would do the trick. A bit of an inside joke between the two of you and your shared love of eating your sadness away with the help of massive carbohydrates. He knew better than to actually drop by and try to see you, he figured he just needed to give you a few days and you’d call and tell him what was going on. His main reasoning for that actually was that he didn’t want to spook you or see you upset again. He knew you would come back to him, you always did.

By the 4th day of not hearing from you, Harry was getting increasingly worried. You got a call from Sam, your Mom, multiple mutual friends of yours, you even got a call from Jeff. All claiming that Harry didn’t tell them to call you and check on you, even though you knew that they all had orders to report back to him with whatever you said. Each call you either declined or gave a vague reasoning of why you sounded so unlike yourself. You weren’t really sure what your long term plan was, it’s not like you could just ignore him forever or the situation forever. Although, changing your name and moving to Bora Bora didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

The more phone calls you got the more you wondered about what Harry had told them as a reason to check on you. Being the blabber mouth that he is you were sure that he had told them about what you said to him. It’s not like literally everyone didn’t know how you felt about him, but the fact that he now knew how you felt made your stomach churn.

Maybe Bora Bora was still an option. You tried to busy yourself as best you could, but of course like always your thoughts circled back to Harry. Maybe he hadn’t heard you? Maybe he was too busy thinking about what’s her face that was rubbing her hands up and down his back to hear what you said? You hoped it was the latter.

By the 5th day of you hiding out in your apartment, Harry had lost all patience and grace. He decided to make his presence known and come over to your place. He was tired of waiting, and quite frankly he was terrified he had hurt you beyond repair. The two of you had had little spats and fights over the years of your friendship, at the longest it only took a day for the two of you to calm down and then you were okay. This is the longest the two of you had gone without speaking, and it was making him sick. He needed you, and he loved you. He just hoped he hadn’t ran out of time to tell you.

By the time he got to your apartment you had managed to actually get dressed for the day. For you that meant an old, ratty sweatshirt of Harry’s you stole along with your sleep shirt, a pair of yoga pants. You took your hair out of it’s bun and took a long look in the mirror at yourself. You looked pitiful. You pulled the sleeves of Harry’s sweatshirt over your hands, wiped your tears away and went to get comfy in your front room. You were one episode of Grey’s Anatomy deep when there was a knock at your door. Shit.

You stayed perfectly still and muted the TV. You knew exactly who it was knocking. You’d hope he hadn’t heard your TV and he’d assume you weren’t home. You held your breath as your cheeks started to warm.

It was when you heard that slow, honeyed rasp that your eyes started to leak.

Harry let out a long breath and knocked again. “Angel I know you’re in there. Please, please let me in. I just wanna see your face. I need to lay my eyes on you.” His voice was softer, slower. “I need to hear your voice love please.”

You stood at your feet. As mad and hurt you were by him you just wanted to fling the door open and fall into him. But part of you still wasn’t ready to come face to face with him.

Harry knocked on your door again and you moved closer. He let out another heavy sigh, “Love don’t make me use my key. Please open the door.”

Shit shit shit shit! Why had you given him a key?! Could you run to your bathroom and sneak out the window? Could you hide in your pantry? All viable options you thought.

“Okay, you’ve left me no choice. I’m coming in.” Harry all but barked at you.

Your eyes went wide and you ran to the door and put your hand on the lock. “Wait wait wait Harry just uh- give me, give me a minute.” You fluffed up your hair a little bit and straightened your sweatshirt.

Oh god. You were wearing his sweatshirt. Why couldn't you just melt into the ground instead of opening the door? You wanted to bolt but you knew you just needed to get this over with.

Opening the door you were met with a very somber looking Harry, but his eyes softened and he smiled once he saw you. He looked so sad, so concerned, so confused. He was wearing one of his sweatshirts from his first tour, black jeans and his checkered vans.

“There she is. Hi love.” Harry’s eyes raked over your figure and his eyes went wide when he saw you clad in his sweatshirt. He went in for a hug but you pulled away before he could close the gap and you stepped to the side of him. His brow furrowed but before he could speak you muttered a very small “Hi Harry.”

He was still upset you were using his full name. He wanted to hear your sweet, familiar voice saying the nickname that rolled off your tongue so easily. It was one of his favorite words coming from you, and it made his heart swell each time you said it. It instantly felt cold in your apartment, and you suddenly wish you wouldn’t have opened the door.

You walked behind your kitchen island to put a barrier in between the two of you and his eyes wouldn’t leave yours. The two of you just stood there in silence and you swore you had never felt so exposed. So uncomfortable. How many times had you stood in this very spot with Harry making breakfast together? How many times had he danced with you around your kitchen? How many beautiful and truly wonderful memories did you have of spending time together in your home? You couldn’t believe how detached you felt from him, and as hurt as you were itching to touch him. This strange silence felt so unfamiliar.

You smiled as best as you could and asked him, “What’s up? Are you okay? What’s got you so curious that you had to come all the way over here?” you laughed a little at the end in hopes of him not being able to hear you sniffle.

His eyebrows raised before he replied, “Love you scared the shit out of me. I’ve been worried out of my absolute mind the past couple days. I- I need to know what yeh really meant when you said you couldn’t listen to me sing about her anymore?” His eyes flitted all over your face as he waited for your response. “Please tell me. I’ve been out of my mind thinking about it all week.”

You felt your chest tighten and your eyes started to tear up again. You were just about to make up an excuse when you realized that’s what you’ve been doing all these years, and all it’s done is hurt you and not gotten you and Harry anywhere. Hang buildup. He had already heard you the other night. He needed to know how you really felt.

Looking up at him you took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. You were half expecting you to chicken out and make up another excuse, but all that came out was, “I’m in love with you Harry.”

Harry’s eyes snapped up and you wished the floor would have come up and swallowed you whole. Where the hell did that come from?! Shit shit shit shit there was no way to take that one back. But you know what? Screw it. Hang buildup. The flood gates were wide open.

You took advantage of your rare bravery and kept going.

“Harry I love you. I’m in love with you. My heart is so full of you I can’t even call it my own anymore. I love you. I really, truly do. I love you so much I can feel it in my finger tips. And every time you look at me. You’re a piece of me. I dream of you. I don’t come without you. I take you with me, everywhere I go. I love you in a really big, stupid, annoying kind of way. Like in the way that I check the weather wherever you’re traveling to so I can know what it’s like where you are. I love you in the way that when you’re out of town I go and I visit with your Mom because I know how much she misses you and I take comfort in her home because it was once your home. I love you in the way that I save every voicemail and voice note you’ve ever left me and I listen to them when i’ve had a shitty day or when I just want to hear your voice and you’re not here. I love you in the way that is embarrassing and loud and over the top. You are the best part of any day.”

Floodgates, wide open. When you finally finished your speech you stood there, unmoving waiting for him to say something. When he stood there for a good minute not saying anything, you started to panic. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit way too much why did you say all of that?! This was not the finale of Grey’s Anatomy, who did you think you were? Maybe you could still bust out of your bathroom window.

You stuttered and very shakily tried to take it back. “Oh my god I’m so sorry- you, you don’t have to say anything. Maybe you should go, it's clear you don’t feel the same way and we can just try and forget what I said.”

Harry cleared his throat before he readjusted his stance. He went reaching for the pocket in his sweatshirt, and pulled out a pile of letters and notes with a rubber band holding them together.

“I uh, I've been adding to this since the first week we met.” He cleared his throat but he didn’t want to spook you so he just slid them across the island.

There were dozens of letters and sticky notes, even old receipts that had his handwriting scrambled all over them. You figured they were song lyrics and ideas he had, but then you saw your name. He had written you dozens of love letters and notes. He dated them too, and he was telling the truth. The first one was dated the exact day you two had met. You knew because it was the same night you saw him perform for the first time. Your face was red as a tomato as you started to read them and you were suddenly crying again. You hadn’t even noticed but Harry had closed the gap between the two of you and his warm presence was behind you. He brushed his hand against your arm and spun you around to face him.

“I’ve loved you for forever, angel. I’ve loved you since you set foot backstage at that show so many years ago. We had just met and we had had literally one conversation but I knew. I just looked at you and I knew I was going to be with you. Some way, somehow. I didn’t care how long it took. And for the first couple of years of us being friends I settled for just that because I loved you so much it kind of scared me. Hence the pile of notes of me confessing my feelings time and time again.” Harry grabbed your hand and brought it to his chest before continuing, “I love you I love you I love you. Yeh pretty much my entire heartbeat. Y’my girl.”

You were positively sobbing and you felt like you were on fire. Were you dreaming? Did he just? Did he just say all of that? Did he just swoop in here and basically say that he’s been in love with you since the beginning of time? You were in awe of the man standing in front of you. This man who you had loved for years and who you had watched grow into this incredibly understanding, resilient, unashamedly vulnerable man who exudes love and kindness. How lucky were you to love him, and to be loved by him? It almost didn’t feel real, like some sort of daydream. A beautiful, beautiful daydream.

Your throat went dry and you suddenly forgot how to speak. You broke out into an uncontrollable snicker and managed to choke out, “Me? You, you love me too?”

Harry cradled your face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over the tops of your cheeks and let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah I do love. Loved yeh forever. Don't know why it took yeh so long t’see it. Will yeh let me kiss yeh now?”

Oh, hell yes. Harry brought his mouth down to yours and sealed your lips in the sweetest, most sipping kiss. He tasted like his favorite mint tea and his scent over took all of your senses. He kissed you over and over, somehow buttoning your lips together even more perfectly each time. When you both smiled into the kiss it broke and you stood there holding each other with your foreheads pressed together, panting. Harry looked up at you and you had never seen him smile so wide. You were sure he was actually in pain. He looked you up and down and tugged at the bottom of your (his) sweatshirt. 

“What’s this hm? Another way you love me? By stealing all m’clothes and never returning them?” 

You started giggling and told him to “Shut up H.” You bashfully grinned and hid your face in his warm neck and breathed him in. 

“Hey now that’s not nice m’love. Thought yeh said you loved me?” he gave you a shit eating grin and you gave him a matching one. 

“I do H, that I do.” That had him grinning at you wider than you had ever seen and the two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped around each other telling each other over and over again how much you loved each other. Well, and maybe showing each other how much you loved each other, too. 

#I AM GOING TO THROW UP AND HIDE NOW BYE AJSKEKDDIDIE #pypfc #dreamy #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry fluff

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse

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"Hey, Viv, it's Tansy...I got your flowers and was calling to let you know I'm getting out of the hospital today, and I'm heading to the same place the guys are at, Nikki said it doesn't suck as bad as the other places they've tested out, um…" Tansy's sweet voice sounds over my answering machine. "...I'm really sorry for not calling earlier. I'm just now getting off methadone, so I've kicked smack successfully. I just wanted you to know I'm doing okay and getting some help, and Nikki called and told me you two were working things out." She adds. "Come visit me, soon, okay? We have a lot of shit to talk through, and I know we do, I just don't know where to start but I love you. I'll see you later." 

She hangs up and I smile a little bit, rubbing my lips together.

I haven't heard anything on her since Steven told me she was in the hospital back in New York after her overdose not long after Nikki's. I sent flowers when he told me she had to undergo emergency surgery to cut a part of her liver out that was turning necrotic. 

I hope we can get through things like me and Nikki are trying to do, I think Amber's going to try to bring Vince and Tommy in to talk about our relationships as a whole the session after this next one Nikki and I have...maybe Tansy and I can sit down a few times and hash things out, too. 

I head to get a bath, but it's not long before my peace is soon disturbed. 

This is the fifth time the phone has rung in the past two minutes, and I roll my eyes and pull myself out of the bathtub, grabbing my towel and stepping to the living room. 

I already see my message machine blinking from unheard voice-mails, and I pick the phone up and answer it. 

Before I can even say, "hello," Sharise starts in. 

"Vivian, what is going on, why didn't you say anything about it, why--"

"Sharise, slow down," I'm bombarded with a million questions, paranoia making my chest tighten. 

"Vivian, you're pregnant, apparently, that's what's going on." She clarifies, and I feel the color drain from my face. 

"Did Vince hear that from Nikki and tell you or--"

"--You're actually pregnant?!"

"You didn't hear it from Vince?" 

"No, Vivian, it's all over MTV!" She says next, not sounding angry at me, just shocked. 

"What?!" 

Just as soon as she says it, there's a sharp beep from the phone, indicating someone's trying to call. 

"Gimme a second and I'll call you back." I assure her. 

"Fuck that, I'm coming over." She tells me before hanging up and I take the next call while turning the TV on to MTV. 

I just see a picture of Nikki and I on the screen as I hear, "again, congratulations to Nikki and Vivian Sixx on the news of their…"

"Hello?" I answer the call that has interrupted Sharise and I. 

"Why the fuck is Page Six running a story about you being knocked up with Duff fucking McKagan's kid?!" Doc yells and I nearly fall out, starting to panic.

"Because I am, but I have no idea how the hell anybody other than Nikki and Duff know about it, Doc, I haven't even told any of my friends or family yet, I swear." I promise and I hear him curse and throw stuff around on the other end for a good two minutes before calmly saying, "this isn't good, Viv." 

"No, shit, Sherlock." I reply. 

"I'm going to talk to Sixx, you just stay at home--don't do anything irrational, we'll take care of this." He states, hanging up. 

My phone is ringing again as soon as he hangs up. 

My phone starts ringing off the hook within three minutes and I have to step outside to the back yard with Whisky to get away from it.

I'm sitting on the edge of the pool when Sharise gets here, this look of disbelief on her face. 

"I had to drop Sky by my mom's, what the hell, Viv?" She asks me, sitting beside me. 

"I was gonna tell you and everybody once I got past the first trimester, Sharise, I promise." I say, honestly. 

"I'm not mad that you didn't, I'm just...I didn't realize you and Nikki were sleeping together again." 

"We're not." I state. "And Doc said that Page Six already knows it's Duff's and has it plastered everywhere so somebody said something to somebody." 

"Duff?! Holy shit, Vivian." She breathes out, her eyes wide. 

"This is bad." I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my face. "This is so, so bad, Sharise." 

"What're you gonna do?" She asks me. "I mean...when did you two even start…you know?" 

"September." I tell her. 

"Are you gonna admit it's Duff's or just play it off as Nikki's publicly and then privately it's gonna know Duff is really it's dad or does he even want anything to do with it?" 

"Yeah, he does, and Nikki's managing." I inform her, and she nods slowly. "It's nobody's business. It's not. So I shouldn't have to explain myself to anybody but I know everybody will want an explanation and we'll just admit it's Duff's and ignore the bullshit people are gonna throw at us...I just don't want to lose any friends over this…"

"If you lose friends over this, they're not your real friends, because everybody you're close with knows exactly what kind of marriage you and Nikki have been having the past year and you've both been struggling with different things and his affair with Vanity and so I think everybody should be pretty understanding of the situation." She tells me. 

"They should be. Doesn't mean they will." 

"Well, the ones who matter right now will." She reassures me. "And from what I've been gathering the last six months, that doesn't include Tommy and Vince right now because I already know they're probably gonna be on Nikki's side completely." 

"Yeah, so will all of the fans." I mumble. 

"Well, if you're gonna confirm it's Duff's, is he gonna come out and say that he actually did have an affair with Vanity or are you just gonna be the sacrificial lamb in all this?" 

"I have no idea, Sharise." I admit.

"I think he should." She states. "Because it's not gonna be fair for people to think you just went to another man and 'cheated' on Nikki out of nowhere." 

"It doesn't matter what Nikki says about the Vanity thing, he's just gonna be a God and I'm gonna be a whore." I argue, sighing out. 

"You really think that?" 

"I know that." I state, matter of fact. 

And, boy, was I right.

"Did you two talk about the relationship you have with your mother?" Amber asks Nikki. 

"I haven't had time to because we've been dealing with a lot of shit right now." He states. 

"Okay," she nods in understanding, because there's no way she hasn't heard what we're dealing with, now. "Do you want to talk about it now, then?" She asks. 

"Yeah, I can." He agrees. 

"Okay, go ahead." She leans back, letting him have the chance to talk to me.

He just stares at me, sighing out, looking as if he's struggling with talking to me about it. 

"Nikki, if you don't tell her, she can't understand." She adds and he rubs the back of his neck, looking at her to help him a little bit. 

"Start with dad," she suggests. 

"He left when I was little." He says to me. 

"And mom…" 

"...And mom started spiraling when he left." He explains. "She and whatever boyfriend she'd have at the time, would drop me off with Nona and Tom for months at a time, then when she'd come get me she'd be with a different man--sometimes married to them." He continues. "And, me being the smartass I am, when I get old enough to want to voice my opinion, I'd bump heads a lot with some of the dudes she brought around and things would get physical." He says next. "But, of course, she wouldn't feel like dealing with it because I was always ruining her partying anyway, so she'd send me off, again…things got really messy when I was, like, thirteen. Me and her got into it pretty bad and she started in on me and I told her I just wanted her to fuck off--I was just tired of it, so I hurt myself and called the cops and told them she attacked me, and she was arrested and I was sent back to Idaho to be with my grandparents." His voice shakes a little and I feel my heart hurt in my chest. 

I remember Nona telling me he and his mom had a lot of issues with each other, but I didn't think it was to that extent. 

"Have you talked to your dad at all?" I ask him, furrowing my brows a little and he rubs his chin, shaking his head a little. 

"I tried, like, ten years ago, and he told me he didn't have a son." He states. "Mom's always said I ran him off, but I was only two, so I know that's bullshit." He adds. 

"When I talked to you about all of this, it was very clear that you felt discarded, inadequate, and abandoned, because you have spent a good part of your childhood yearning for your mother's approval." Amber says. "Do you think that's true?" 

"Yeah." He nods. 

"Jumping through hoops at times to get it, but still being ditched with your grandparents while she went on and pretended she didn't have a little boy she needed to be responsible for."

He agrees, again, and she gives him a smile. 

"A woman is who her mother makes her to be and who her father says she is. A man is who his father makes him to be and who his mother says he is." She tells us. "And you didn't have a father around to make you, and all your mother told you was that you weren't appreciated, you weren't approved of, you weren't worthy of the love and attention you deserved." She states. "And you married a woman whose mother made her to strive for this unattainable level of perfection and have a complete come apart when it can't be reached, and a father who told her she wasn't worth the trouble it took to protect her." She tells us."I want to know--because it is so evident that you two carry so much resentment toward one another--what is one reason--out of many-- that it's there."  

"She's always looked down on me." Nikki says it. 

"Why?" 

"Because I don't live like she does." 

"Explain what that means." 

"She believes in God, I don't. She's spent our relationship sober, I haven't. She's more modest and conservative, I'm not."

"I don't resent you for not believing in a God and not being modest and conservative--those are a few of the things I respect about you, Nikki." I argue. 

"Bullshi--"

"--No, no, no cursing. Take a breath." Amber reassures him, calmly. 

"She hasn't let me do what I want to do. If I do what I want to do, she's on my throat over it or guilt tripping me or attacking me over it." He states. 

"Because all you've wanted to do the past three years is drugs, Nikki." I mumble. 

"Go back to guilt tripping." Amber tells him. "Does she put you on a guilt trip, or are you guilty after you do something you know she would not like for you to do and you beat yourself up for it?" She asks. 

"She just shuts down." 

"She shuts down?" 

She looks at me. 

"Why do you shut down when he does something you don't like?" 

"Because it's always drugs or something mean he does when he's on drugs, and I don't want to be around it, but most times I can't get away from it so I just go somewhere else, mentally." I admit. 

"And you see when she does that, and it makes you feel bad." Amber says to him. 

"Yeah." 

"That's not guilt tripping you, Nikki, that's her protecting herself because you won't." She points out. "Vivian, what's one of the reasons you carry resentment for him?"

"I'm not a priority." I tell her. 

"The amount of money I've spent on you since we got together, and you're not a priority?!" He asks me, pissed and shocked I have the audacity to say that. 

"Buying me a house and a new car and getting me nice things isn't showing me I'm a priority, Nikki, it's just you feeling bad for the shit you've done and buying me things to make yourself feel better for it. I'm grateful that you've made sure I've been taken care of in the sense that I've never gone hungry, I've never been out on the street, I've never had to go without utilities and hot water and things like that, and I've lived a spoiled life in terms of finances and the car I drive and the house we've lived in. You're a great provider--you just…we wouldn't be in this position if you didn't choose drugs over me." I say to him. 

"I haven't." He argues. 

"You blew off our wedding night to go to a party with Tommy." I remind him and Amber raises her brows. "Then you got in that accident on your way back home and hurt your shoulder and started smoking heroin to get through the pain so you could finish the album." I add and he rolls his jaw. "I love everything about you, except your drug abuse. And I've been so angry because there is no line with you. You just keep getting worse and worse and then turn around and convince yourself that I'm ungrateful and I don't approve of who you are because I'm perpetually bitter about the marriage I've been in--and it's all my fault in your eyes. Everything bad that's happened is all my fault." 

"I don't think that, I just put blame on you where it's due, you just refuse to see that you're a problem in all of this, too." He explains. 

"If you weren't on smack, we wouldn't have problems, Nikki." 

"Vivian." He says it as if saying, "you know that's bullshit." 

"What?" 

"The amount of times me or somebody would tell you to take your medication and you'd blow us off and just let yourself get more--"

"--You can't compare depression to drug addiction. Depression didn't turn me into a completely different person. You shot me, Nikki. You shot me. And that still didn't make you realize you needed to get sober." 

"You've physically assaulted me and other people, Vivian, in a frenzy, and still didn't see the issue with your mental state." 

"You've put your hands on me before, too, so don't make me sound like--"

"--I've grabbed you a few times and that's been when you were trying to beat me. So don't start that shit." He snaps. "The times I physically hurt you, I was doped up and wasn't thinking straight. The times you've physically hurt me and other people, you were sober, you just weren't taking your medicine. So you can keep saying that I chose drugs over you, but the amount of times you've chosen your pride and, 'I don't need to be on medicine,' over me is just as bad." He says. "If you weren't so damn angry all the time over tiny shit."

"No, no, it's not just her being angry over tiny things. It's you getting with a seventeen year old girl, and placing the responsibilities of a forty-one year old mother on her." She adds and he breathes out. "Your wife has been raising you the past seven years. She's your wife. She's not your mama. And you have been punishing her like she is. Her not wanting you to destroy yourself with drugs doesn't equate to the times your mother wouldn't let you dress the way you wanted to dress, or do the artistically productive things you wanted to do that she couldn't understand that you'd fight about. This woman was seventeen years old. You had no business being twenty-two and seeing a seventeen year old, let alone putting that much weight and expectation on her shoulders and getting angry and saying she didn't appreciate you because she didn't know how to handle it all while every year you'd push further and further." She goes on. "Years of anger and resentment and bitterness towards your mother, all turned loose on a girl who didn't cause any of it, just because she didn't want you running yourself into a grave." She adds, pointedly. "When me and you first started working together to get to the bottom of all of this, you told me that she went from worshipping the ground you walked on, to being an evil demon from hell--do you remember saying that?" 

He hesitantly replies, quietly, "yes." 

"Do you realize that you have done everything in your power to verbally, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually beat the hell out of the very girl who saw you as her God before she was even old enough to really know who God was?" She asks him. "All because the woman who made you feel like you weren't worth the trouble it took to stay around and raise you, was never there to answer for her actions so you started chopping at the next one in line."

"Okay, I get it, I'm fucked up, I fucked her up, I've ruined our marriage, it's all my fault, and she's the innocent angel who was seduced by me and dragged to hell, I get." He stands up. 

"Nikki," Amber starts. 

"Nikki," I say as he steps to the door, "we can't fix this if you--"

"--Yeah, fix this." He flicks me off before slamming the door. 

I grind my teeth and stomp after him, ignoring Amber's warning against it. 

"You are such an asshole!" I bark at him, following him. 

"Wow, I've never heard that one before!" He laughs humorlessly. 

"Nikki, seriously, she got all over me for being mad at you for sleeping with two-hundred girls, you can take her pointing out that you hate me because I remind you--"

"--I don't hate you, Vivian, alright?" He stops, turning to face me. 

"Well, you're really acting like it." I cross my arms. 

"I don't. I'm just pissed that you refuse to accept that I'm not the only problem in this shit show and if you wanna work on us you need to realize that you'r--"

"--Baby," I breathe out, grabbing at his hand and he rubs his forehead, "I know it's my fault, too, but it's just…" I blink back tears, looking away from him. 

"...Just what?" He asks. 

"Embarrassing." I wipe my eyes, sniffling. "It's embarrassing having to sit there, pregnant with another dude's baby, and tell a stranger about how I've abused my husband and people around me." 

"You think it's not embarrassing for me to sort through shooting you and strangling you and still not walking away from drugs?" He asks. "Don't even get me started on having to tell you I've cheated that many fucking times and even had a mistress?" He adds…"I think I've embarrassed myself, and you, more than you've embarrassed yourself and me." 

"I'm pregnant. And it's gone public. And it's not yours. And it's gone public. I think I've won with which one of us has embarrassed the other the most." I mumble. 

"Well, I'm not embarrassed. Those people don't know shit." He tells me, furrowing his brows. 

"I am." I say, trying not to cry again. 

I'm taken back a little when he hugs me, tightly…"Why didn't you tell me about your mom?" I him, my face in his chest, tears rolling down my cheeks. 

"Because I didn't want to bother you with it." He says. 

"I wouldn't have been bothered by it, Nikki." I sniffle, looking up at him. 

He blinks a couple times and breathes out. 

"There's a basket on the closet shelf at home with several of my journals in it." He explains. "Filled with things I didn't want to bother you with." He adds. "I really think if you feel too embarrassed or ashamed, reading those will prove my point that I've been worse than you have." He admits. 

"I'm pregnant--"

"--I know you are." He grabs the sides of my face, looking me in the eyes. "Just read them if you want to, but I say a lot of shit in there I wrote when I was high, so there's your warning." He adds. 

"Are you sure you want me to read them?" I ask. 

"Yeah." 

***I wish he would've said, "no," because I screwed myself over while reading them.***

NIKKI 

I turned into a senseless moron the second she got ahold of my hand, looked at me with watery, pretty eyes, and said, "baby." 

I would've let a train hit me if I knew it would've made her feel less embarrassed and ashamed. I didn't think reading my journals would've made her feel better--just help her gain an understanding that she's the smart one out of the two of us…

If this was one year ago, I'd have her face down on a mattress, making up for our argument. 

But obviously that isn't much of a solution...so I just pull away and smile with my teeth at her the best I can, feeling better when her thumbs graze over my dimples and she smiles, too. 

"I'm sorry I was rude in there." She tells me, next. 

"I'm sorry for being an asshole." I reply, honestly…

"Do you really think I look down on you because you don't believe the same things I do?" 

"Sometimes, I guess." I admit to her. 

"I don't." She tells me. "I never really have." She adds. "I just don't like when you make fun of it or mock it." 

"...Yeah, 'Wild Side' was kinda a dick move…" I tell her and she looks at me. 

"A catchy dick move." She says. "And I like the song, I just wish you wouldn't have made it simply to spite me for the most part." 

"I'll try not to use my powers for evil against you again." I assure her…"But you gotta quit using sex to try to get out of stuff, and I will, too." I say next. "This shit's so hard because we don't talk about stuff, and we never have, and it's just better to go ahead and embarrass ourselves and talk about it instead of trying to fix it with something we can obviously go get from other people--and have gone and gotten from other people."

"And we can't blow up on each other when we do try to talk and work things out." She adds. "So no screaming at each other." 

"And no hitting." I say. 

"Ever." She agrees.

I hold my pinkie out to her and she smiles softly, taking it with hers before I kiss her cheek and pull her to me again.

I didn't know, a week from then, I'd be screaming up a storm from learning about seven fucking miscarriages from '83 to '87 that she didn't tell me about.

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction

[soulwillower]

heat waves • stanley uris

(stanley uris x reader smut)  

requested: stanley uris fic where he plays baseball and she plays softball please? best friends to lovers if you can! (bonus for borrowing each other's clothes) 

warnings: softball player! reader, swearing, smut at the end sorry, oral (male receiving), fluff mostly though, i promise, unedited as fuck i wrote this all in the last few hours LOL

i hope u dont mind i added smut at the end

(this was inspired partly by the song heat waves by glass animals but just a bit idk) 

[losers + reader are 18+.]

3.2k words i think

♡

it was hot.

in fact it was boiling fucking hot, in stan's opinion, and despite loving nearly everything about summer, the heat was the absolute worst of those characteristics by far. 

he sighs as he flies down the backroads, away from the baseball fields and towards his house. he's pushing his curls back from his face and groaning as he feels sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes catching the dying sunlight and making him itch to wash his hands.

it's june, and there's a deep heatwave that hit derry that's caused all the a/c units at the store richie works at to disappear from the shelves, the public pool that bill and eddie work at the become overcrowded with kids and families escaping the heat, and the baseball fields to be extremely blistering as mike, stan, and you had to stand under the sun all day the last two days.

his lips twitch up faintly at the thought of earlier today, when he'd had a ten minute break and had ran over in his spikes with mike to catch an inning of the softball game on the fields adjacent to theirs. 

the only reason they'd gone was to see you play, of course - and to your embarrassment, they'd caught right when you'd stepped to the plate and had hollered "yeah, baby! y/n/n!" loud enough to make everybody in the stands' head turn and embarrassing enough to make you giggle as you waited for the pitch. 

you'd hit a double then, which had also scored in two runs and stan had seen your smile as you stood out at second base, breathing hard and brushing the dirt off your pants. and when he'd waved to you, you waved back with so much pride and excitement that he'd felt his heart skip a beat.

he smiles to himself as he turns the corner into his neighborhood, squinting slightly as the air moves in squiggles feet above the pavement. he swears with a shake of his head - he fucking hates the heat, but the double edged sword of baseball season in the summer makes it worth it. 

his phone buzzes from where it's placed in his cup holder and he grabs it, smiling at the y/n y/l/n !!!!! that pops up at the top. he rolls his eyes as he answers, remembering the time when you'd called him a psychopath for having your full name in his phone contact, claiming you knew for a fact he somehow didn't know any other y/n's, so you’d added the exclamation points ‘just for flare.’ 

he answers, "hey, how was the last game?" he asks as he pulls into his driveway. "we lost." you grumble and he hums as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving his bat bag in the trunk since he's got practice tomorrow. "i'm sorry to hear that. d'you want to come over?" he asks casually as he makes his way inside and sighs at the relief of the air conditioning. "yes, yeah. i do." you say and stan smiles down to the ground at your goofiness. as he enters the kitchen he realizes his parents are out, so he asks, "can you bring food?"

you sigh and he can imagine your grin as you say, "god, the shit i do for you, uris. why can't we go together?" you whine. he snorts, "but i have to shower." he tries to reason, but you retort, "i just spend thirteen hours in the heat too, stan, i need to shower as well."

he smiles, walking up the stairs towards his room. "alright, alright. we can go together, just come over and you can shower here."

"did i mention i love you?" you sigh, almost dreamily. stan stops in his tracks, heart stopping and mouth going dry but still grinning as he hears his name yelled by a voice in the background of your line and you hiss back a muffled, "shut up!"

his face is red as he mutters, "yeah, yeah. love you too, y/n/n. i'll see you soon."

your voice echoes in his head as he stares at the tiles of his shower the entire time he's showering. did i mention i love you? as the ice cold water cascades over his sore muscles, relaxing him and breathing energy back into his tired body, he can't get you out of his head. 

your voice, your hair, the way you have so much confidence on the field and yet are the sweetest and funniest person he's every met. as his mind wanders, he thanks god that his shower is freezing and he groans, trying to stop imagining his best friend while he's in the shower.

did i mention i love you?

he steps out soon after that, feeling like a bit of a creep. as he ruffles his towel-dry hair, he hears his front door open. opening the door to the bathroom, he's suddenly facing you, clad in your dirty uniform, your visor still on your head and a tired but happy smile on your face. "where's donny and andrea?" you ask and stan shrugs, chuckling a bit at your dumb nickname for his father, "think they had some meeting and went out after." he's not really focused though, because he's aware that he is standing with only a red towel hanging low on his hips as you stand in front of him, your cheeks red and eyes wide, bouncing around him and avoiding eye contact, flustered as you clear your throat.

did i mention i love you?

he grabs his dirty uniform to sweep into the laundry and gets you a fresh towel, gathering clothes for you to change into before residing to his own bedroom. the shower turns on right as he pulls on his shirt and flops back onto his mattress.

he can't get you off his mind, which isn't necessarily a new development, but ever since the heat wave, his mind has been stuck in a loop that's never ending. y/n, baseball, y/n, baseball, y/n, y/n, y/n....

did i mention i love you?

it's hot in his room and he stares at the patterns in his ceiling, lifting a brow as the spots morph in and out of shapes and suddenly it's back to you, your angelic face in his vision and he almost groans. he loves you way too much, he thinks. 

he knows every single feature about you; enough so that your face, beautiful and clear as always, appears in his vision and he's fucked because he knows he’s still be able to remember where every feature, mark or blemish on your face is, even when you're not with him.

even though he knows that your relationship is just platonic, he still finds himself imagining his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and he yearns to touch every part of you, to be touched by you. he can't get you out of his mind.

the shower shuts off so he sits up and rubs his eyes - the danger and power the you have over him almost makes him laugh, especially because if you knew half the things he thought about you, you'd probably kill him.

he's smiling dumbly, thinking about the time you and bill got caught sneaking onto the derry golf course and made richie and stan pick you two up, right as you pad into his room.

"i look like a dumbass, stan!" you groan, lifting your arms as you spin a bit, and he almost dies. he has to shake his head to avoid you seeing his blush because you're standing in front of him, wearing his baseball team practice shirt that has his last name on it and his gym shorts, cinched at the waist to keep them on you and neither things fit you very well but he thinks he's going to lose it because his heart feels so warm. 

your hair is wet and making the shirt totally wet where the ends of the strands touch, your skin bright from washing off the eyeblack you'd worn all day. he's so lost in the image of you that you have to repeat yourself.

"stan! stop looking at me, oh my god i want to die." you shove your face into your hands and laugh. he shakes his head rid of his stupor and stands from his bed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "you look incredible right now, y/n. let's go, i'm hungry."

he grabs the hoodie he'd insisted you order for him early last year - with your club team's logo on it and a big, white #2 and your last name on the back. he knows it's too hot to actually wear it, but he's going to take it because you always get cold under his car's a/c.

he's not always the best at approaching you in a way that is comforting, but you beam at him as you follow him out towards his car. you're both walking slowly through the hot nighttime air, half because the air is so thick it feels like you're wading, but half from the exhausting day you'd both had. 

every muscle in stan's body aches as he pulls himself into the driver's seat, making sure everything was straight and in place. he doesn't even blush when he turns the key twice before starting the ignition, knowing that you don't mind and even show affection towards his compulsions after all this time. his heart thumps at the thought.

"where to?" you yawn as you ask and he can feel your eyes on him as he's leaning back, backing his car out of the driveway. he flushes once again under your beautiful gaze.

stan then finds himself in the back of his trunk at the quarry, the windows still up because you insisted it'd be too hot with the door open. he'd listened to you because you're you - but if it had been bill, or eddie, or ben, or mike or bev or especially richie he would have groaned and complained about how bad it was for his battery to keep the a/c running.

but it was you, so he did it with a smile on his face and a thump in his heart. you're sitting with your knees touching, stomachs full of fries, burgers, and vanilla milkshakes.

you're still working on your milkshake, spooning it into your mouth slowly as you tell stan a story about your day. "-and she slid under the tag - no, don't look at me like that, she was under it! - and the fucking ump called her out." you grumble, glaring into your milkshake. stan just grins, taking in your natural hair and how it's framing your face, the way your legs gleam in the moonlight and showcase the random bruises you have from taking pitches to the legs.

he forgets to respond and you look up at him, lifting a brow. "oh, yeah, i got a few bruises." you mutter, examining your leg yourself. you perk up, "look at this one! it's got stitch marks!" you say enthusiastically, pulling your bare thigh up so it's across stan's lap, scooting closer to him. he gulps, the proximity of you to him making it hard to focus as you run your fingers over the skin.

"shit." he mutters, hingers falling to touch the purple skin that was blossoming in a faint circle, red and purple stitch marks from the softball etching their way onto your skin. "that must've stung." he adds, eyes glued to your bare leg. you hum in agreement and suddenly your eyes are meeting his and he can't breathe at all.

you're closer than he'd expected as you straighten up, leg falling flat against his lap as you stare deep into each other's eyes. yours are swimming with wonder as you watch him, and he almost jumps when your hand lands on his shoulder. "what're you thinking? you're in your head a lot tonight, stan." you say gently, with all the care in the world and he doesn't really feel the usual twinge of guilt he feels for being more reserved than usual - instead he just feels like he may explode if he doesn't just tell you.

"y/n." he says it so quietly that all he can hear is the first part of your name. "uh-i... uh, maybe it's the heat wave, but..." he shakes his head, knowing that excuse with not work. you're too smart to believe a fib that simple. he sighs.

"no. no, i just- sometimes all that i think about is you." he says, his hand falling to rub over your bare thigh. he feels your muscles tense under his palm and he searches your eyes, his stomach tying itself into knots of anxiety as he waits patiently.

"what-what do you mean?" you ask softly, eyes flickering between his and he bites his lips, looking out to the quarry quickly before looking at you. he thinks about the days you've spent together with the others down at the water, all the drunken nights where you find your way to the clubhouse you'd all built in middle school.

he thinks about how you always, always make it to his games when you're not also playing; how you always sit at the far top right of the bleachers and scream his name loud enough that he can hear you even when he's way out in center field, how you always wear his away uniform jersey and give it back to him with a hug after the games. he thinks about all the hours the two of you have spent together at derry's batting cages, competitively keeping tallies of how many line drives you can each hit.

"stan?" you ask again softly, biting your lip. "i think about you too." you tell him, and he shakes his head, knowing that you aren't totally understanding him (but that's definitely not your fault).

"i think i love you."

he says it louder than intended, and it slices through the midnight air in a way that makes the world stagnant. he swears, even the frogs stop croaking, the cicadas stop buzzing, the wind stops blowing through the leaves in the forest.

"like... like you love me?" you ask, your leg still across his lap, hand still on his shoulder reassuring him that you at least weren't completely disgusted by his admission.

"like i'm in love with you." he reiterates, looking straight into your apprehensive eyes as he says it. it takes barely a split second before you're smiling at him in a grin that knocks the wind right out of stan's chest again. 

"what made you decide that?" you ask with a huge, breathtakingly sweet smile as your hands slide to hold his neck. he huffs a laugh, unsure still, "dunno. lots of things - everything about you, really." he mumbles, feeling slightly stupid but still incredibly giddy as you lean closer.

"well i'm in love with you, stan." you say, lips ghosting over his. he grins, the feeling of you so close to him making his fingers tingle as one hand stays on your thigh, the other falling to your hip.

he can't speak, so instead he closes the gap. your lips are warm against him - your whole body is - as you come to life, kissing him like you've been doing it your whole life. you whimper lightly and it makes him sigh with pleasure, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tasting the vanilla of your milkshake on your tongue.

slowly, you slide onto his lap and his hands move up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his tongue swiping against your plush lips. you're straddling him, cupping his jaw with both hands as you accept his tongue, yours caressing his sweetly and he wonders why you haven't been doing this your whole life.

he pushes against you, pulling you closer to him as you pull back for breath. "i've wanted to do that for so long." you mutter lowly as his lips immediately attach to the soft expanse of your skin, his fingers tickling down your bare thighs. he grins as he feels goosebumps form under his palms, biting down and sucking the soft skin on your throat, eliciting a moan from you. 

he pulls back a bit, "me too." he says, lips peppering kisses all the way up to your lips and catching them again, your hand sliding into his har and tugging on the strands.

you slowly grind against him and he groans at the feeling of you around him, the pleasure making his mind fuzzy as all he can think about it you. 

and then he’s dying because you’re trailing a hand down to palm him through his pants and all he can do is groan a bit against your chest and look at you because holy shit.

 you slide off his lap and down on to your knees in the small space between his legs, watching him with those beautiful doe eyes as you slide down his shorts slowly. 

he’s watching, lip caught between his teeth as you pull him free from where he strains against his boxers, licking your lips and pumping his base a few times. he grunts as your hand moves, the feeling making him twitch in pleasure. his cock is dripping precum and you slowly reach your tongue out, swirling around his tip. he lets out a dejected moan and grips your shoulders as you slowly take him into your mouth, wet and warm and perfect.”good girl.” he mutters quietly through his bliss and he notices how you flush under the praise, your tongue flattening as you take him further in. 

 as you bob your head down and try to take as much of him as you can, you look up through your lashes to watch him, the eye contact making his legs weak.

 his lips are parted, watching as you suck him off as his hips twitch, hands playing with your hair through his pleasure. "fuck, y/n..." he moans as you start to bob your head quicker, lifting one of your hands to grab his own. he lets you guide his hand to the back of your head and you gently put pressure on it.

he thinks he might faint as he realizes what you want. slowly, he pushes you further down on his cock and he gasps at the tight feeling of you gagging around him. 

 he groans, “you like that, hm?” quietly as you whimper around his cock, the vibrations nearing him to his high. “holy shit.” he mutters to himself as he moves your head, the lewd noises of his cock in your mouth and his moans filling up the car. 

you take him as far into your mouth as you can and he feels you try to relax as he gently pushes you further down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. you moan, the vibrations pushing him to the edge as his hips buck up slightly.

you choke and pull off of him, catching your breath as you make eye contact, “being so good for me.” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as he watches you pump him. you smile, cheeks pink from the praise and he almost swoons with how fucking perfect you look. 

he lets out a low moan at your warm mouth taking him in, bobbing up and down. his hands push you down onto him again and he holds you there while he gently thrusts up, your hands on his thighs. he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. 

its only a few seconds and he barely gets out a, "fuck, y/n, i'm gonna-" before he's spilling into your mouth. to his surprise, you moan around him and slowly lick him up and swallow, looking up at him with a tired smile.

“holy shit.” he says yet again, staring at you as you pull his shorts back up and bite your lip. he pulls you into a kiss and he can taste himself on your lips, making his stomach flip. 

"date me." he says quickly as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed from the taste of you on his tongue and the post-orgasmic bliss. you pull back, grinning. "well you don't have to be so polite about it." your voice sounds fucked-out and kind of raw and he’s certainly a dead man. 

he chuckles, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic tone. he loves you so fucking much.  "fine. y/n, please be my girlfriend. i want to be your boyfriend, i want us to date. please, will you go out with me?" his voice is dead-pan, but he's serious about it, and you can tell by his boyish grin.

you laugh, shaking your head. "god, was that so hard?" you ask, your hands rubbing over his chest, where his muscles tense in soreness. he then realizes you're still straddling him and how fucking sore you must be. he pulls you closer.

and then you pull him in for another kiss, both of your teeth clashing slightly from your grins. you didn't even explicitly say yes, stan wants to say, but instead he mutters, "did i mention i love you?"

you smile, cheeks red. “you might have mentioned it.” you say bashfully. he grins, kissing your cheek sweetly, hand running up your thigh slowly. “can i taste you, babylove?” he mumbles against your skin and he feels you shiver as you let out a quiet moan. 

you grin, kissing him on the lips, “why dont we go back to your place...can i stay the night?” you ask, cheeks aflame as you look at him. “i want to take our time.” you add. 

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen and he nods, grinning at you. “fuck- yes, yes you can. of course.” he says, smiling at you. you kiss him heatedly, grinning as you pull back and lean over to crawl back to the passenger seat. stan slaps your ass lightly as you do and you squeal, grinning back at him with a lifted brow, “c’mon, uris. you’re scoring tonight.”

he rolls his eyes at your cheesy words and groans a bit, but he can’t ignore the butterflies that thrash in his chest nonetheless. 

you love him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a​ @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#stanley uris x reader #losers x reader #requests #i love stanley uris #losers club x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak smut #bill denbrough

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 4

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

For the next few weeks of your relationship with Alastor went from being worried about your well being to having hope that your life wasn't just a masterpiece of disaster. Things were finally looking up for you. Throughout those few weeks you got closer to Al, Mimzy, and Husk. Mimzy took some time to warm up to you and gave you the occasional threat now and again. You came to the conclusion that she cared for Al in a way that an older sibling protected their younger sibling. You can kind of see from her stand point of some random bim coming about and being the object of his affection.

      You felt the same way when Issacs's girl erratically showed up one night. They both came home from hitting the town and getting liquored up. Mama was a wreck that night yelling and hitting Isaac with her small hands. Papa escorted the young lady to the guest room, deeming her not stout enough to carry herself back home. Ever since that night you saw the young couple in a dimmer light. Losing some respect for your elder twin in the process.

 Husk on the other hand warmed up to pretty fast. Every time Al brings you back to the club, Husk and yourself play a couple of card games, losers usually paid for lunch. Teaching you how to deal all the way to keeping a straight face. He's a nice guy altogether, crunchy on the exterior and soft on the interior. But, you estimated that Al didn't like you talking with Husk for too long. He even goes out of his way to break up any sort of  conversation if he sees you two getting too close.

But, the most valuable information you received these scarce weeks were from the man himself.

 Alastor, the radio man is very hands on with you especially your waist. He wraps his lanky arms around your petite waist and gives you a strong, short squeeze before cuddling next to you. The only problem is he has to initiate the touching and he gets pissed easily. Al got so irritated when you gave him a shocking hug from behind and gave you a stern lecture with a small pat on the behind. You figured he hated people touching him without permission. To prove this theory you tried holding his hand when the two of you were alone. He yanked that arm back so fast all you saw was a blur. It took you around thirty minutes to get him to calm himself down. He spent the rest of the day with his hands in his pockets whenever you came into the room.

  Your courtier would never take you to his house, but he would happily go to your home and chat with the family. You were quite perplexed that your papa liked him. He's the type of dad that gets mad if his little girl even has a crush on another boy. Yet, it didn't stop there, even your brother found him likable. You're very liberated that they all seem to get along, but you were a little disappointed that they weren't as protective as you would think. Nonetheless, you felt very fulfilled with your man that day.

  Going on small dates are pretty joyful considering Al knows how to keep the fun going. If you even look like you're bored or uninterested he makes either witted jokes or invades your personal space in an attempt to fluster you. On some nights if you're really lucky he does more than just kiss you goodnight.

      Next, you seem to notice whenever family is brought up he talks about his mother in a very bright light. But, he never talks about his father. You brought it up to him and he dismissively walked around the whole topic. So, you never brought it back up instead you got him to talk about his mom. Apparently he gets most of his personality from his mother, Abigail. She taught him how to make jambalaya, singing, his etiquette knowledge and that prize winning smile that adores his features. This guy brings up his mother with such admiration that makes you question it sometimes. It's not that you mind his banter, in fact you found it amusing to hear him talk so fondly about her. You won't lie about feeling a little jealous from their closeness.

He's definitely a Mama's Boy .

 The last details you noticed were the really late night hunting he does. That lean frame of his is covered in scratches and small bruises. He tells you that most of his scars come from deer or jagged tree branches. It didn't explain the scratch marks on his neck. He told you those marks on his neck are from your guys last intimate moment together and without questioning him you believed his word. You don't remember clawing his skin. You left it at that and took him inside to mend his sore muscles.

   Blood underneath his finger nails took you aback, when he took his gloves off. You offered to help clean them, but he was really reluctant to even let you stare at them. You just wanted to help, but he thought otherwise. He stared at you from the corner of his eye before giving you a loud laugh and a resounding 'No.'. Like everything else in your relationship you just let it go without any further question.

 You should've known better.

    Nearing the end of June, with most people trying to find efficient ways of keeping cool. You were inside a hot kitchen all day baking a whole batch of beignets for a special little boy. Joseph's last night here was today and you wanted to make it fantastic for him. So, you invited all his school friends, neighbors and some of Claire's friends. You were going to spend most of your hard earned money on his go away party, however Al stepped in to pay for most of the expenses. He even invited Mimzy and Husk for entertainment wise. That incident still gave you butterflies and a genuine smile on your face.

     The only thing you needed to do was powder the pastries and get ready for the night of fun. Sprinkling the canister of sugar powder upon the delightful treats. Setting aside the sugary French styled doughnuts with a covering, taking long strides to the staircase you made it to your room to gather a simple long sleeved dress. Then, managed to freshen up with a nice bath and some light makeup. Packing the beignets in a proper container and double checking the  security of the vessel. Alastor should be coming by to pick you up in his newly repaired car, but the person at the door was not your Al. But, your dear friend Husky. He adored a simple white button up dress shirt, black slacks with polished black dress shoes and pulled together with dark gray suspenders.

"Ya ready, doll?" Blowing the rest his gasper smoke into the night air, He leaned his arm out for you to take.

"Where's Al," Taking his arm with a worried look on your face. ",did something happen?" He waved his hand off into the distance before giving you a slightly direct answer.

"He had some last minute stuff he had to take care of." You both stepped in his dark boiler and sped off down the pathway. "Don't worry he'll make it back in time for the party. Fucker lectured me about being late and look at what he's doing now." He scoffed.

"Well, thank you. For taking me in his place, Husk. I really appreciate it." Flashing him your most sincere smiles. His cheeks flushed a modest hue of pink before he scowled. Grumbling a quiet ‘welcome’ before his gaze drifted towards the road. The path ahead grew bumpier by every turn down a lane leading through the thick woods. We scheduled for the party to be held near the bayou at mid evening. So, by the time the party starts the sun should be setting.

   Husk and you managed to keep conversation up with the occasional bits of quietness here or there. Talking to Husk is like talking to your other self. Sometimes you could say the most random shit and he’ll come back with a response that will put a smile to your face. He’s basically like your second big brother with a small(not at all) drinking problem.

“So, when are you getting this car repaired,” The boiler hitting a jagged rock before settling back in place. “Because this gal has seen better days and probably a near death in its future.” You murmured under your breath.

“Fucking inherited this piece of junk from my old man. Shitty old fucker couldn’t even buy me a new one.” A loud, deep growl came from his throat and through one arm off the wheel, “Bought himself a new car, while I’m struggling to get to work and back.” He scowled and gave a great sigh before stating he needed a drink.

“I’m pretty sure there’s going to be lots of liquor, especially from those old geezers.” You knew that Mrs. Claire and her friends would sit outside their houses at dusk drinking away on those rickety porches getting buzzed. You know this because your papa used to take you out and sat you down on the weathered wood while he got tipsy with his friends. One sundown you took a sip of a stray bottle they left unattended, you being a small child decided it would be experimental to drink the loopy juice. You took one sip and gagged, spitting saliva and finally throwing up. Mama was so pissed, and wouldn’t let him go drink for months.

“Good fucking need it.” He seemed to ease up a bit just by the mention of booze.

“Why are you so wound up tonight anyway.” Raising an eyebrow over in his direction.

“Alastor didn’t tell me until last minute that I had to pick you up and I was already three-fourths of the way to the party.” His fingers gripped his hair, then slowly combed through it. “ Fucking asshole wasn’t even remorseful.” Adding in a quiet jackass in his blur of curses.

“What exactly did he say he was doing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking.” Conscious of his body language you observed his hands tighten on the steering wheel, his posture straighten for just a  second then went back to hunching. Husk’s Adams apple bobbed down and up, you wanted to chalk it up to him yearning for his alcohol. “It’s not something dangerous right?”

“Nah, it’s nothing dangerous he just had to run some errands and I guess he had more on his platter than expected.” He reassured you, his hand rubbed the top of your hands.

“I know he’s spontaneous, but this is kind of unexpected of him. He seems to love get-togethers or any social event with music.” You did have hopes for the two of you spending the night together. Maybe lay down on the grass and star gaze and probably watch Husk get drunk. “We do have time before the party, we could go and help him finish what he needs done.”

“No!” He groaned, slightly pulling on his face. “He already has Mimzy helpin’ him, and he would get pissed if I just brought you by.”

You really didn’t understand why you couldn’t drop by to help.

   If it was a work matter you would have noticed or heard about the situation, but nothing eventful really happened this week. The victims of the Bayou Killer reduced their number of murdered victims these past handful of weeks. Which makes you feel somewhat safe tonight and that’s sort of why you're throwing this party.

Maybe you're just reading too far into the situation and Al’s going to be just a few minutes late.

“It’s fine I know first hand how Al can get a little irked when people don’t follow his instruction.” Managing a small smile to your lips. “I was just a little curious about the whole ordeal.”

Inhaling a deep breath Husk created a deep groan that emitted from his throat. “Don’t beat yourself up, (y/n). Being curious about your lover is perfectly fine.” Taking another puff from his gasper and letting the smoke trail out the window. “ And to be clear here, he’s an asshole and you're just the clueless moth flying towards his flame.”

 Furrowing your eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”, you demanded.

   Husk made another groan emit from his throat, he’s been doing that a lot tonight. But, you never really see Husk worried, he’s usually either angry, smug or on the occasion vulnerable. He gets you overwhelmed with fear when he talks so lowly about himself, the whole scene of him with bottles on bottles lying next to his passed out body makes your chest clench.

“I’m not insulting ya it’s just,” He twirled his wrist in a small circle, “Al’s not some dandy who needs your concern. To be completely honest you deserve a fellow who would settle down and have a nice family one day.”

“What makes you think Alastor doesn’t want to have a family with me.” You tightly crossed your arms over your chest, “Did he mention any of this to you?”

“No, no when you have been with Al as long as I have you tend to pick up all of his quirks.” Another deep puff and that stick was gone. The smoke came out in rings carried off by the wind. “And his motives.”

    Opening your mouth to counter his claim, the upcoming lights flashed in your eyes. The lanterns strung up on steel poles lined along the large land area. You could already see a large portion of people starting in on their fun evening.

      Husk pulled over to the side where a small portion of boilers settled at. He stepped out and walked over to your side, wrapping his arm around your frame leading you down the path of bright lights. Prior to leaving you snatched the beignets from dash nearly pushing them out your mind beforehand.

      Joseph seemed like he’s having a despairing time with his friends. While they all played together, he sat himself down on one of the benches. Face cast away from them and back hunched over to rest his head on his arms. His little head turned towards your way, eyes closed, brows furrowed and crunching his nose up.

His gaze met yours and that little cannon rammed right into your gut. The air nearly left your lungs, but you deliberately gained your stance. “How’s the going away boy doing?” Returning his tight squeeze with an equally suffocating grasp. Little hands pulled on dress and a small face nuzzled into your side, Joseph’s petite face stared up at you, whites of the eyes turned pinkish. “Oh, honey, I know moving is really isolated, but look on the bright side. You can spend time with your cousins and experience new places.”

“It’s not the same.” His little voice raised a very squeaky octave. “They all make fun of me whenever I visit. They call me a baby for still sleepin’ in the same room as granny, they even called me daisy.” Shoving his face back into your hip, a large shiver went throughout his small body.

        You know from great experience about family troubles, but comparing your situation to Joseph’s would be like comparing a gator to a croc. They may look the same on the outside, but they have major differences. His family was more docile like a gator, while your biological parents were more like crocodiles, very aggressive and annoyed by others in their space. But, this isn’t your family, thank god, this is about your favorite little guy right now.

I should stop doing this to myself.

“I know this is hard for you and we can’t really change your granny mind any time soon.” Ushering him back over to the bench sitting him down next to you. “But, you still mail and call to us everyday if you want to. It might just make you feel better about being so far away from all the wondrous folk down here.”

“You really think that’ll work.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes I do think that’ll work just fine.” Stroking his hair out his face in the process rubbing the stray tears. “So, how does that sound.”

He slothfully nodded, looking up at the night sky. “I could have Aunt Shirley write my letters though. My penmanship is dreadful.” he quietly added, giving a small smirk direct at you.

    Shooting straight up, with a small bounce you pulled Joseph to his feet. “Now I made this party happen and got you to stay up late, just for you to pout and cry.” Flicking his nose you gave a soft smile. “How about we make this night better with a sweet treat.” You showcased the container and popped the lid off. The aroma of powder sugar met Joseph and your noses. His eyes shined a tad bit and that tiny smile that hung from the corner of his lips gave way of his joy. He sure did love these sugary confections.

“Thank you, (y/n). You made this night a whole lot better.” He gratefully took a beignet and practically shoved the pastry in his mouth. Humming that the French doughnut was indeed good.

     Walking off and setting the plate down you pinpointed Husk Downing himself with silly juice with some of the older guests. Deciding not being surrounded by drunk people was a good idea you made the decision of mingling with Floyd. He was probably the most reasonable person to approach. Upon seeing you he gestured to the empty seat next to him you gratefully took the offer.

“So, how has the night been faring you, Floyd.” Giving him a kind smile and gestured towards the party. “ Having fun?”

  He gave a noticeable shrug before answering, “I kind of wanted to stay home. But, you know how Clay can be.” He took another swig of punch. “Not that I don’t want to be here. I’m just tired from this week, ya know.”

“It’s fine to be tired. I’m pretty sure we're all tired from the month with the past killings.” A small groan came from your throat. “Why do you think the killings stopped all a sudden?”

“I feel like the fucker wants to put everyone on the edge of their seats and while we’re all nice and happy they’ll find another body.” Floyd’s outlook was depressing, but you won’t lie about thinking that way, too.

“You really think they’ll find one.” You questioned. All you got in return was a short and assertive nod.

“Mrs.Claire has a smart idea of sending her grandkid to Arkansas, especially in the condition she’s in. Barely can afford to feed one person on her salary.”

     Nodding you agreed with Floyd, Mrs.Claire does need help and sending Joseph to Arkansas would be her first step. You spent about the next hour talking to Floyd, Clay and his dame, Mama and Papa, your brother, Mrs. Claire and a surprising still standing upright husk. You grew worried about Al once you knew how much time flew by. Husk reassuring you that he’ll come later or in a few minutes. By the second hour it was already eleven o’ clock and by now you were more furious than worried. You decide to cool your mind with a few drinks and maybe a little liquor to ease your troubles. By your fourth drink you were a little tipsy and hanging off of Husk to keep yourself standing. You weren’t drunk. But you felt that if you let go you would fall straight into the dirt below.

       Suddenly, hands blocked your view. “Guess who, darling.” In your inebriated state you uncontrollably giggled. The anger is still there ;like a grain of stubborn sand in a bag. But, not so much as before. Turning around you pulled him into your chest.

“You said a couple minutes late, liar.” You huffed.

“I’m sorry, love, but something came up and I couldn’t leave it hastily finished.” A huge smile plastered his face, teeth and all. “ Do you think you could forgive me?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Liquid courage gave you the confidence of trailing your fingers along his chest. “ Maybe if I get something to ease my anger.”

Al’s eyes widened and that sharp smile turned into a smirk. “My little bearcat is getting handsy this evening.” He maneuvered his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. “Maybe I should take you home. Come here now chere.” He strolled back to his car with you in tow.

Maybe I should’ve been more cautious back then.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #1920s #past abuse #toxic family #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin mimzy #husker hazbin hotel #relationship #courting #period typical racism #time period

[nelllraiser]

hell to pay | margot, remmy, & nell

LOCATION: a Ring base hideout. PARTIES: @g0t-ri5h, @whatsin-yourhead, and @nelllraiser SUMMARY: nell, remmy, and margot hunt down roy— charlie’s angels style, and the last nail is put into the ring’s coffin. CONTENTS: mild torture, violence

After doing in the other two big names of the Ring, this seemed like it would be a last step. The culmination of all her and Remmy had been working towards ever since they’d been holed up in cages beneath the Ring. Margot had told Nell and Remmy that this was where she’d seen Roy going in and out, and the witch was ready to turn the man inside out after what he’d done to herself, her family, her friends. She’d learned after Montgomery that the fastest way to escape danger was to eliminate the threat as soon as possible. The warehouse where Roy had been seen going in and out of seemed to be a treasure trove if the stills Margot had given them were anything to go off of. It seemed that the remainder of those trying to rebuild the Ring were holed up here as well. Nell knew that Remmy wasn’t all that interested in a massacre, so she’d brought something else instead, a nasty little curse she’d prepared beforehand, one that was simply waiting for the finishing touch to be brought into reality. That would be enough to make sure those responsible for the Ring never took an unwilling fighter again. “Are you ready?” she asked Remmy, crouched a good distance from the entrance to the building. Then she was speaking over to Margot in her remote location. “We’re about to go in. Is the camera at the front door still on, or can we start?”

This was going to be it, Remmy had told themself. This was the last thing they were going to do for the Ring. No more fires, no more prison breaks, no more shake downs. They weren’t sure they’d be able to do much more, anyway. And they hoped Nell understood, at least in some way, why they couldn’t raise their hand to others anymore. There was just too much of it, and they almost felt a yearning to be done. A need to be done. They’d put it aside for now, though, because no matter how they looked at it, this needed to happen. These people needed to be stopped, more than Remmy needed to solidify a vow of non-violence. So this would be it. The last hoorah. The last stand. At least...they hoped. They crouched next to Nell, eyes focused on the main entrance. They’d made sure to skip a meal before coming here, in case their strength was needed. And though hunger didn’t claw at them as badly as other times, they could feel the prickle. “I’m ready,” they said back to Nell, before listening in for Margot’s instructions. Whatever she was doing, they hoped it worked. They hoped no one needed to die uselessly today.

Margot had no idea why she was helping these two strangers. She had no vendetta or revenge plot like her accomplices, but this mission felt like the beginning of something. A gateway to a different world. What she was getting herself into she didn’t know, and while that fact scared Margot, it also spurred her on. Besides, she was in a safer place than Nell and Remmy at this moment. While they were on the frontlines, she was working from the comfort of her bedroom. Her set-up was a myriad of two computer screens she’d ‘borrowed’ from the AV club, her roommate’s gaming headset and a router she was using to tap the warehouse server. Margot could see the two of them crouching on one of the external cameras, just barely, invisible unless you knew they were there. “I’m ready if you are.” She told both of them, sensing their anticipation. Margot had managed to rig up Nell’s wireless headphones, and one of Remmy’s hearing aids so that they could all communicate. Margot was pretty confident that their transmission would be uninterrupted. “I’m going to cut the camera. But, get in quick, we don’t want them to catch on.” Margot executed the command on her keyboard. The camera feed that was showing them to her went black, and when it came back on, they were gone. “Goodluck.” Margot whispered. 

The moment Margot cut the cameras, Nell sprang forward from her hiding place, sparing a glance at Remmy to make sure they weren’t far behind. She sprinted the distance to the door as quickly as possible, thanking her natural speed as she went. Stopping at the door, she pressed a quick and urgent hand against the lock, muttering a spell under her breath as the door opened with a little click. Opening it, she ushered Remmy in behind her, closing it the next second. “Okay, we’re clear of the entrance,” she whispered into the modified AirPod Margot had made for her. “Do we know where the next camera is?” Already her heart was pounding, but it wasn’t from nerves. They were so close to what they’d been working towards ever since they’d been taken by the Ring, so close to finishing all of this once and for all. She could nearly taste it along with the knowledge that Roy was hopefully holed up here, ready for her to rip into him and make the piece of shit pay for all that he’d done. He wouldn’t be allowed to hurt her family, her friends, or herself any more.

Remmy followed close behind Nell. They were bred for this. Following, taking instructions, completing the mission, the task. They remembered how refined the world had been when they’d narrowed their focus down at the Ring. Too much had gone wrong there, they couldn’t let that happen here. So while they kept their focus on Nell, they let their eye wander around to take in their entire surroundings. No one was following, no one was up ahead. They pressed in close to Nell, crouched in the corner. Heard their voices clear through the speaker in their ear. Nell had her magic, Remmy had a taser they’d grabbed from Morgan’s drawer. If she knew what they were doing right now, she’d probably have their head. But they weren’t going to let Nell do this alone. There was no way. “The door is secure, there’s no one up ahead, either,” they muttered, turning to look down the hallway. “We know what room we’re heading for?”

Margot let out a deep breath. They were in. “There doesn’t seem to be a camera in the hall, not one on their servers anyway. You should be good to go.” Margot switched a few tabs on her computer. Squinting at the material she had pulled up. “Building plans I downloaded from city hall show a larger room through the corridor coming up on your right. Could be the place?” 

“Good,” was Nell’s simple answer to both Margot and Remmy, not seeing a reason to talk anymore than was necessary during a time like this. Carefully, she made her way up the hallway in the direction Margot had mentioned, barely daring to breathe as she crept towards the door on the right hand side. It wouldn’t do to have their cover blown so close to their prize. Every cell in Nell’s body seemed to be humming in anticipation, ready to catch the rats that were hopefully lurking on the other side of this door. “Do you wanna do this big or small?” She asked Remmy, knowing there were benefits to both ways. What she really was asking was whether they wanted to go in guns blazing or something more subtle. Whatever answer they may have, she didn’t hesitate to pull out one of her many hidden knives, tracing the tip of it along her thumb to create a pebble of blood. Wordlessly, she swiped it over one of her summoning tattoos along with a few mumble words of something that sounded vaguely demonic. In another instant, her three hellhounds she often called upon were assembled between herself and Remmy, ready for orders after being Summoned by her magic.

Margot’s voice was a comfort on the other end of the line. Knowing they weren’t going in blind helped calm Remmy’s nerves. They followed Nell down to the door that Margot pointed them to, stealing themself quietly against the wall when they stopped to gather themselves. They looked from Nell to the three dogs that had appeared, remembering them from the beach. Or, at least, what little they did remember from that day. That wasn’t something they wanted a repeat of. “If we go in big, there could be a fight. We should try and do this quiet. The less people caught in the crossfire, the better, right?” they suggested quietly. “And if things get out of hand, well..then we go big. Sound good?” A question doled out to both Nell and Margot, knowing it would be her responsibility to lead them out of here if things went sideways.

Once they had disappeared into the depths of the hallway, Margot had no visual on them. It seemed that this organisation had a habit of placing cameras sporadically and unplanned. This meant she did not see the curses that Nell had conjured up, or the three hounds that defied Margot’s rational beliefs. This was perhaps a relief; Nell and Remmy didn’t have time to catch her up at this moment. “Sounds good to me.” Margot spoke through her headset. She had her own plans if things went haywire, she just hoped the other two were as prepared. 

Scooby sniffed curiously at Remmy for a moment, as if wondering whether or not Nell had brought them the zombie as a snack. But the witch quickly gave the hellhound a stern look and shake of her head, and the pup was quickly back on task. As for less people caught in the crossfire...Nell didn’t entirely think that was a bad thing, but putting more deaths on Remmy’s conscious wasn’t something she was entirely willing to be responsible for...so a smaller entrance would have to do. “Sure...sounds good.” With another whispered spell, she unlocked the door separating them from their quarry, and inched it open. At first, there was no resistance, and as she stepped into the room with the dogs at her sides no one looked up from what they were doing, having no reason to think they’d been infiltrated. Most of the faces blurred past Nell’s eyes as she searched for one man in particular. The one she desperately wanted to rip limb from limb. “He’s not here,” she hissed, frustration getting the better of her as she found no familiar face. “Roy’s not fucking here.” 

He wasn’t there. They’d come all this way, and the one person they’d been looking for wasn’t there. Remmy could feel Nell’s frustration, her anger-- she’d wanted so desperately to punish the man that had poisoned her sister and her, and Remmy. They’d both wanted him to be there, and Remmy felt the pain of this loss after the realization hit. “Where is he!?” they asked, teeth grit, jaw clenched. None of the men had moved yet, pressed into staying where they were thanks to the three flaming dogs flanking them. “Where’s Roy? Why isn’t he here!?” they shouted, anger gnashing through their throat and onto their tongue. 

“He’s not there? I could swear—” Margot had been sure he would be there. She’d been watching camera footage for days measuring his comings and goings. Margot hadn’t seen him leave, but she supposed there could be some kind of back entrance she didn’t have eyes on. Her brow furrowed in annoyance and confusion.“Well, shit!” Margot threw up her hands. What were they doing all of this for if the ‘big bad’ wasn’t even there? Margot did what she could to recompose herself. “Is the plan still a go? Or is it over?”

“It’s not over,” Nell bit out into her modified comm through gritted teeth. It’s not fucking over. Nell’s own fury matched Remmy’s in an instant, and a frustrated growl was ripped from her throat as she advanced on the man that looked most frightened of the hellhounds. “Tell me where the fuck he is,” she began, tugging on the collar of his shirt to make him bow to her height. “Tell me where he is, and I might think twice about turning you into a dog snack for my friends here.” As if on cue, the hellhounds began to circle the man, nipping not so playfully at his heels. His body grew tense, and the effect of the demon dogs was instantaneous as he stammered out an answer. “I- I don’t know! I don’t know! He never tells us where he goes! Says it’s safer that way!”

Remmy watched Nell advance on the man that looked most afraid. She might’ve been small in size, but she was not small in stature. Her presence could fill an entire room. They kept their eye on the other two, who looked ready to run if the opportunity presented itself. One of them made to move, but Remmy sidled into their path, simply shaking their head, eyes sharp. They weren’t sure they’d hurt the man, but they would restrain him from leaving. They had to. They looked to Nell, feeling Margot’s frustration as well. “Now what?” they asked, ready to follow whatever instructions either doled out. “Do we just...go forward with the plan?”

Nell’s gaze burned into the man in front of her, jaw set in a stubborn and angry line that spoke of a determination that made her willing to do nearly anything when it came to getting what she wanted in a situation such as this. A sound of utter disgust was pulled from her lips as the man proved useless, and she released him from her iron tight grip. Then she spoke to Remmy, though the words were for the benefit of the whole room, a foreboding tone filling their syllables, letting the air of a threat fill the promise. “We go forward with the plan. Maybe they’ll be a little more willing to talk by the end of it. Just something to jog their memory” A snap of her fingers had an animal hide appearing in her open hand, summoning a curse she’d prepared at home specifically for this situation— it would only need the finishing touches. As she unfurled it, a circle drawn in blood came into focus, runes of all sorts filling it in a careful pattern. It was about the size of a bearskin when laid across the floor, and with the utterance of a commanding word in Latin, the nails on the edges of the skin drove it into the wooden floor beneath them, securing it in place.

“Now it’s your turn,” Nell said with a sharp grin to the man closest to her, roughly shoving him into the center of the set up and into the circle. “Don’t be shy,” she sweetly commented to the other few men in the room. “Go ahead and join your friend.” They didn’t have much of a choice as the hellhounds herded them onto the animal skin, snapping their teeth. Then began her chanting, more Latin repeated in a cycle as she circled the men like prey, watching them with hungry eyes. The hounds mirrored her in a counter-clockwise motion, making sure to deter anyone that might have been thinking about making a break for it. Once they were huddled neatly in the center, Nell drew the rest of the nails from her pockets, and went over to the last man who had stepped into the circle. Without skipping a beat, she stuck the very tip of a nail into each of the man’s shoes before straightening. Then, without hesitating, her own foot came down on the man’s left foot— her strong and fluid motion driving the nail clean through the flesh and sinew, effectively nailing him to the floor. A gasp and grunt of pain was wrenched from him, but Nell paid it no mind as she went on to the second of his feet, repeating the process. Then it was on to the next man, and then the third— each one growing more fearful as she went, their agony etched into their faces. They couldn’t move without forcefully pulling their feet from the ground along with the nails that had been hammered into them. They were trapped, unable to escape. Just like all those innocents had been underneath the Ring. Just like she had been along with Remmy. She couldn’t deny the perverse pleasure she got in knowing how thoroughly the tables had been turned, that they were now the ones welling with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. Finally, she got to the last man, and the first one she’d approached after entering the room. 

“I said I might reconsider by the end of this. So are you going to tell me what I want or not?” Nell offered him the chance to save himself from a similar fate the others had faced. For a moment the adam’s apple of his throat wobbled, as if he were weighing his options. “I don’t know where he is- I promise, I don’t. But I know- I do know…” He hesitated, and Nell grew impatient, lining the nails up along the tops of his shoes, foot poised above them. “I’m waiting.” That was all the incentive he needed to continue with his train of thought. “Roy’s undead! I’m not even supposed to know, but I heard it by accident! That’s something you can use, right?” he asked desperately, hoping the revelation had saved him. “Sure is,” was all Nell smugly said before jamming the nails through his feet, a wail warbling forth from him as she finished the job. Men like him didn’t deserve second chances. Not after all they’d done, not after all the hurt and harm they’d brought to the world. 

Remmy flinched with each nail that was driven into the men’s feet. This needed to be done, they told themself, this needed to happen. They knew this wasn’t going to end without someone suffering, but the pain the men experienced felt like nothing compared to the pain Remmy had felt in the ring. When the gargoyle had ripped them in half, when Jax had driven them to the brink of starvation, when Remmy’s own hands had ripped through Ben’s flesh. They felt a burning in their chest, their eyes, the back of their throat. A raw anger that they could taste. The smell of blood filling their head. Even if Remmy never wanted to hurt someone again, these men deserved this pain. They looked away as Nell drove the last nails in, clenching their jaw. They pushed their mind to focus on something else, wondering what Margot, someone outside of all of this, thought of what was happening. If she would still think of Remmy the same after they got out of this. 

Finally, Nell paused. Remmy looked over at her. “Undead,” they repeated quietly, “like me?” It was the only thing they could think of to say. Was the man who had done all of this just like them? Or was he a vampire? Or even something else? Were there other undead species Remmy didn’t know about yet? They swallowed the questions. “Undead means...he can still be stopped,” they said with a quiet realization to Nell. “It’s not over.”

If Remmy hadn’t been here, the men would probably already be dead by Nell’s hand and the teeth of her hounds. But she knew they hadn’t wanted more death involved in this, though she wasn’t sure whether or not she agreed with them. It was more complicated to know what the right choice was with every day that passed. What she knew at the most base level was someone couldn’t do any more harm if they were dead. It didn’t matter, though. She’d already made the decision to work with Remmy’s preferences. All that was left to the curse now was the finishing touch. Her own sacrifice. Pulling one of her knives from its hiding place, she dragged it smoothly, evenly along the mottled scarring of her forearm making a cut large enough to procure a good helping of her blood. Letting it fall onto the tops of the shoes of the men she’d just nailed to the floor, and once again moving in a circle, she spoke a final chant, focusing her mind into a thin line when it came to her goal, and what it was that these men would be carrying with them so long as they continued to live. When the Latin was done, she spoke it once more for those in the circle. Not for their own benefit, but because she wanted to see the blood drain from their faces as she told them the news. “You’ll never take an unwilling prisoner or fighter ever again. You’ll never cause harm to those that don’t deserve it. And you’ll never profit from another’s misery. Or there’ll be hell to pay.” As if she’d said their names specifically, the hellhounds growled their affirmation, adding their own promise to the end of her’s. 

Now it was done. The blood from Nell’s arm sank into the men’s boots, as if it were being sucked through the tops of them, marking them, following them wherever they’d go. Coming out of the near trance-like state of magic she’d been in, she turned back to Remmy, wrapping her arm in a bandage she’d summoned from home. “I don’t know if he’s like you. But you’re right.” Another satisfied grin spread over his lips. “It means he can die just like you or me. And then all this will be over.”

Margot heard screams, and chanting, and pain. The three together made her ears ring. What had she been pulled into? It sounded like some kind of satanic ritual, but that could just be the connection. Margot was sure that was it. Her modification to the ear pieces had malfunctioned somehow and she was experiencing some kind of feedback. “Hello?” Margot called out a few times, testing the connection. “Can you guys still hear me?”

Despite Margot’s assurances to herself that this was some kind of technical issue, the words “undead”, and “like me”, were unmistakably spoken by Remmy. Margot wasn’t privy to whatever they were talking about, and that was something she wouldn’t settle for. Still, she knew this wasn’t the time for an interrogation, at least not for her to conduct. “What’s happening? Is it done?”

The ritual made Remmy’s stomach churn, but it was a lot better than having to watch these men die. There was already too much death, even if these men deserved it, Remmy didn’t want anymore death. They didn’t want anyone else implicated in these deaths. The ring had taken enough from them, it would not take the part of them that wanted to do better as well. They would not give in. They looked away when Nell started chanting, backing into the corner, watching the door behind them to make sure no one else was coming, though they supposed Margot would warn them. They wondered if she could hear the chanting, if she understood what was going on. Nell had she didn’t know if Margot knew about the supernatural, but it seemed as if she didn’t care at the moment. That she didn’t mind implicating someone in this. No-- Remmy shook the thought away. Whatever happened, they would protect Margot, as thanks for doing this. They were pulling her into a dangerous world, but Remmy silently vowed they would make sure she was safe, protected. They could do that. They wanted to do that. 

Finally, Nell was done, wrapping her arm up and looking back over at Remmy. Margot’s voice chimed in on their ear pieces. “It’s done,” they said quietly to her, to Nell. “We’re done.” 

#hell to pay #torture tw #wickedswriting #chatzy #ch:remmy #ch:margot

[theunderdogwrites]

Why I’d Make A Terrible Cult Member

In case you didn’t hear NXIVM founder and Ryan Gosling look-a-like, Keith Raniere, 

was sentenced to 120 years in prison after being convicted of sex trafficking, racketeering and conspiracy after testimony that he had created a harem of sexual “slaves,” branded with his initials and kept in line with blackmail. There are currently two docu-series running right now (SEDUCED: INSIDE THE NXIVM CULT and THE VOW) that give you a chilling look into this cult. Both series are palatable and will have you saying – “How the hell did these people get pulled into a cult? Because from my couch I can tell you that would never happen to me!”

There is so much information out there about the NXIVM cult that I don’t feel the need to educate you on all their dastardly deeds. Instead, I want to ramble on about how the majority of us probably feel we could never be drawn in and held captive by a cult. Plus, after that election in the United States we could all use a wee laugh.

First…

The TOP FIVE Reasons WHY I’d Make A Terrible Cult Member

5. Terrible with Crowds

Does anyone really like crowds? Hoards of people gathering is a whole lot of stupid I just don’t want anywhere near me. Cults can’t survive without people. I suppose you could be a cult of one. If that is allowed, I want that. I brain-wash myself on a daily basis as is (‘Today is going to be awesome!’ ‘You absolutely do deserve a donut!’ ‘Drinking wine from a mug is considered sophisticated!’) so I feel I could make this work. Gym clothes are required clothing but will make an exception for all-day PJ’s on the rare Friday when I ‘just can’t even’.

4. Blindly Following Directions is Not My Strongest Quality

I am not a wanton rebel but I do fail (succeed) at being a part of a collective consciousness, especially where one person places themselves in charge of everyone else. While I don’t require for you to have degrees or letters of recommendations from heads of state, I must insist that you’re not a fascistic idiot. Also, you need to be a good person. Not just on the outside where you’re putting on a show for others, but on the inside where it really counts and shines through without you having to promote your intentions. There is just no way I am able to blindly follow directions from a person who I do not respect. And typically, I don’t respect anyone who craves and NEEDS control over a group of people, no matter the size, to make themselves whole. The bottom line here is: if you are this type of person and you attempt to snare me into your cult, I promise you I will be your problem child.

3. Isolation? Yes Please!

Cults wish to isolate you from your family and friends because then it becomes easier to indoctrinate you without any outside voices cluttering up your mind. Instead of isolating me from family and friends (who, I assure you would appreciate the break) it would be much more effective to separate me from my inside voices, of which there are many. Obviously, I am more attached to those voices than my family and friends and I bet my inside voices would eat your inside voices for breakfast, so if your intention is to try and control me you better be prepared for a fight similar to that of the Game of Thrones Battle of the Bastards. But seriously, I’m begging you… please isolate me from my inside voices. I could use some peace and quiet. This is a cry for help people!

2. Refusal to Have My Food Intake Monitored

The NXIVM cult preyed on women by forcing them to go to extreme measures in order to lose weight. They often had to take pictures of their food (counted and weighed on a scale) and ask permission to eat. Right away I’d have a serious problem with this bullshit. If I want a donut. I am going to eat a fucking donut. You want a picture of it? Ok, knock yourself out:

I’m eating this no matter your opinion.

I understand that withholding / limiting food (valuable protein, nutrients etc.) makes it easier to break someone down but just how far gone do you have to be to allow someone else to monitor and approve BY TEXT MESSAGE what you eat? I guess if we want to pull at this thread we can say organizations like WW, Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem “approve of” and even provide you with what they want you to eat in order to be successful if using their programs… and if I wanted to rip into them some more I could claim they are somewhat “cult-like”, but at least they don’t require naked, compromising photos of yourself just in case you fail to lose weight and they want to keep you accountable.

Confession time: when I go to a restaurant with friends and they want to “share” plates, I am not amused. Who the hell came up with this concept of “sharable plates”? If I want to order some crab cakes (usually two to a order) what makes you think I want to give you one in exchange for some of your fries? If I want fries, I will fucking order my own fries. Now that this secret is out… sorry to my friends who have politely forced me to share my food with them.

1. I Can’t Be Any More Brain-Washed Than I Already Am

BRAINWASHING: any method of controlled systematic indoctrination, especially one based on repetition or confusion.

Here’s a thought – we brainwash ourselves.

Well, first it’s our parents. And we don’t have much control over that for a long time. In that mix of original brainwashers is television with it’s cleverly made and repetitive commercials. We are being advertised AT from an early age and it’s a process that continues for our entire life. You don’t watch TV? Doesn’t matter if you own a cell phone or surf the web or have a pair of working eyes. It’s everywhere. You’re being convinced you need stuff. Or persuaded to believe in the magical powers that alcohol will give you (which through experience is NOT charm, grace or coordination). Just last week I realized I’ve been programmed to not give a flying fuck whenever I see a Kardashian. Or Mariah Carey. Or emails from Christian Mingle (please stop contacting me, you really don’t want this).

We brainwash ourselves into believing certain untruths in exchange for temporary happiness. I believe we all fall into this trap. Let’s be real and admit that life is fucking hard. Our collective goal is to be happy and to survive. If you need to convince yourself of some untruths for a short while in order to get through, you go right ahead. Just don’t let the lie take over your reality. It’s destructive. And you’ll miss out on how beautiful life can be if you don’t pull your head out of your own shit.

These two NXIVM documentaries really had me shaking my head in disbelief over just how these seemingly intelligent men and women fell for such a gigantic load of crap. To listen to this Keith Raniere speak and think to yourself “yes, here is a stable human being I want to follow who just happens to talk about how it would feel to rape a baby (it feels like nothing apparently) and requires us to kiss him on the lips when we say hello and goodbye” seriously puts your mental health into question. Am I right? Because I don’t actually know. Am I sitting in judgement of these cult members? Maybe just a little and that is simply because I believe myself to be… not smart, but not a total moron. Now having said that, I know that everyone is searching for spaces where they can belong. Where they feel comfortable enough to be themselves. Spaces that speak to them and people who mirror their desire to be better, do better. Their tribe, if you will.

If you were brand new to this planet and I told you about this activity that millions of people took part in, in some capacity, where they used a curved stick to chase around a hard rubber object on frozen water while wearing steel blades, you might give me a curious, tilted head look. You know, the one you give someone when you’re trying to determine whether or not they’re insane. Sports teams and especially their fans could be considered cult-like. Some people will shell out big $$$$ to attend the Super Bowl dressed head to toe in their team’s colors. Soccer fans in Europe have killed referees over what they felt was a bad call.  

Look at this line-up:

This was for the release of the latest iPhone (12). All these people brought together by an inanimate object with the technology to make/receive phone calls, take photos, listen to your conversations and advertise to you across all your social media platforms. Oh, and it can tell you the time.

If you dig far enough into the NXIVM cult (beyond the “ring leaders” who profited financially and at the same time fed their perverted yearning for supremacy over others) you will inevitability come across people who were at their very core – lost. Lost and looking for purpose. Lost and looking for a place where they could belong. Lost and looking for something special. I don’t know about you, but when I am feeling lost and low on hope, I don’t always make the best decisions.

Time to go eat all the donuts.

And if you’re interested in making me a member of your cult, please PM me. I come with impeccable references as long as you don’t believe a word of what they’ll say. I really am a constant fucking delight.

#nxivm #keith raniere #ryan gosling #cults #donuts #iphone #lost #found

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU [Book 3]

New? Read here! Then here!

Chapter 11: Don’t Rain on Me By Joji

Things weren’t as tense as I thought they were gonna be. I really did hurt my own feelings! As for the group punishment, Aunty Mimi didn’t fuck around and worked us until we cried. My body hurt so much that the showers I took stung.

-5 days before returning to the dorms-

I finished my shower and saw that it was just mom and I at home. She was in her office, laying on the day bed. I’ve always wondered why there was a day bed in here and why it was facing the window. But the scene was nostalgic to me, so I floated over to lay next to my mom. Just like I did when I was little. When I put my weight on the bed, she sensed me and put her arms around me.

“How was your training mijo?” she asked softly.

“It was rough, she had us pull a semi-truck up a hill without quirks” I groaned “luckily it was just the truck part and not with the cargo part.”

“She’s going soft on you guys” she chuckled, pulling me in closer “at least it’s not wilderness training.”

“Heh yea” I looked up to see her calm face, eyes closed but awake and gently running her hand through my curly hair. It made me wonder if I really do share an image with her, am I going to look like this when I get older? If I grew out my hair, will I look more like her? The only way to tell us part are the tattoos on her torso... hmmm, that makes me wonder about her what her high school file said about her. “Hey mom.”

“Yes mijo?”

“Can you tell me about your tattoos?” I asked as I poked her shoulder blades “The two skulls on your shoulder?”

“Oh these ones?” she asked as she pulled down her wide neck long sleeve from the top, exposing the two tattoos “I got them before I came to Japan.”

“Why? What do they mean?”

She pointed to the one on her left “I got this one before I left home, it represents my culture. So I never forget where I came from.” She pointed to the one on the right shoulder “This one I got in Austria, where I did my basic training before going to my final destination. It represents the death of my old life, to remind myself that things will never be the same and that I have to mourn and move on at some point. To move forward with my new life but never forget those memories.”

I traced the one on the left with my finger, it was a sugar skull “Was it hard leaving home and everyone behind?”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I did it because I loved my family and I didn’t want them to get hurt over my doing. My life was going well for me before, I even had a long term boyfriend” she chuckled and blushed “I planned to marry him when we turned 18 and live the rest of my short life with him, start a family after I finished college and see where things go from there. But I guess his dreams were shattered too.”

“Wow you had a plan and everything!” I paused to think of my next question “When why did you fall in love with dad? If you planned to marry the other guy?”

“To be honest, I thought I was never returning home. Life was overwhelming me here and I thought I was just going to be alone for the rest of my life” her face shifted into sadness “I cried everyday as I prayed for someone to make my days less lonely, someone who’d make me feel complete. It took a while to see that it was your dad but he did make me very happy, even if we were just friends.” Her eyes got dewy “Then I got the family I yearned for, and at that point, I didn’t mind if I never returned home. Because I made a home here with all of you! And that was enough for me.”

Her words moved me to tears “Even if we’re little shits?”

She laughed “YES! Attitude and all! I love all of you because you’re the little pieces of me that I love the most about myself. I could never hate my children, no matter how bad.”

“Then, what will happen if you get word you can return home?”

“Well, the plan was, that I go back and live with my parents. If my boyfriend was still alive, then I’d reunite with him too and pick up where I left off in my life plan.” She listed “But that was before I started the company, got married and had children! Now it’s more that I’d go for an extended vacation back home. Because the new ordeal is that I was going to retire at both my jobs, hand over the company to a replacement, go visit my childhood home and visit all of my family members to show that I’m alive.”

“Will you take us with you?” I asked, scared of what she might say.

“If you guys want too” she looked at me “I know your dad wants to, he said before we got married that he wanted to accompany me because he wanted to see all the places I talked about in my little childhood stories. But I don’t know if you or your siblings would, I guess it would depend if you’re in your careers or not by then.”

“What if you want to stay there?”

“We’ll see, I haven’t thought that far ahead” she put her chin on my head “one day at a time Iwata.”

“Hmmm, okay one more question” I declared as I felt that I was maybe annoying my mom “Why are we protected citizen status? So many people don’t know about your children and act all surprised that I exist.”

She shifted her arms and had more of my weight rested onto her “Remember the night of the incident? And how we hid in Mr Hitoshi’s house for a few days?” she started off “I was waiting until you were a bit older to tell you the full story, but here it goes. The home invaders hacked into the protected housing database to get my personal cell number, they called me as a distraction so they could break into the house. I knew right away that I had to protect you guys but I wasn’t at my best because I was still healing from giving birth. I alerted Jin and Mimi to take you and the others to safety because I was ready to lay my life on the line.”

“Why did you do it?” I choked up, now understanding what I saw that night.

“I said I was going to protect my family and that if it costed my life, then so be it. I kissed your father goodbye and he understood that I had to do what I needed to do. So while he gathered you guys in the nursery to await uncle Jin’s portal, I fought this intruder but he made the mistake to tell me his motive.” She choked up a bit, trying to keep her composure “He said that he wanted to take my children and I away for quirk experiments. That they were going through the quirk registry of the country of double quirked citizens, us first, then the Todoroki family. That didn’t sit with me, I fought even harder but I pushed myself too hard and ended up face down and backed into my doom. I closed my eyes coming into to terms that this was it but at least my family is safe. But then I heard your little voice shout for the intruder to get away from me, and I shot up to use the last of my energy to protect you. But it didn’t matter what I did, you defeated them with your awakened quirk, I just finished the job with a shot to the spine to cripple them.” She took a deep breath “I saw that you were going into catatonic state, so I picked you up and held you, staggering my way to the nursery with everyone else for the portal.”

“You’re alive because of me?” I realized.

“Yes mijo, and I’m so thankful that you did. I couldn’t imagine a life where my children lived without their mother and only with a father that knows nothing about raising four very rowdy kids.” Her body curled around me “I informed the commission of the breach and everything got tighter security. I took an extra step and put the protected status on all of my children. Everyone on the Japan data base with a double quirk was advised to do the same or choose one quirk to have on the registry. But you’re just like me in a way.”

“How?” 

“You rose to the occasion and fought to protect the ones you loved, even if the chances of losing were high. And at the end, you won but life will never be the same and you live with the trauma of that day everyday.” She answered “Now you’re stronger, smarter and still have your loved ones around you...history repeated itself.”

“Damn, it do be like that huh?” That part blew my mind.

“Yea, but now all I wanna do is continue this nap” she closed her eyes again “Stay awhile longer Iwata, if we pretend to be asleep when dad comes home, he has to cook dinner.”

“Okay” I chuckled and closed my eyes “I’ll stay.”

I was no longer conflicted about my thoughts on my mom. She’s incredible and loves her family so immensely! She isn’t an empress, she’s divinity, love reincarnate. My wish is to feel that much love someday, maybe I will when I have a family of my own.

-3 days before returning to the dorms-

“How are you holding up chief?” asked Hoshi as he came outside to where I was “Last day of punishment training eh?”

I was face down on my trampoline that I jumped onto because there was a layer of snow on it and my body felt like it was on fire “Yea, and I want to die.”

“Bet” He chuckled as they sat on the rim of the trampoline “I brought berry tart for some cafecito with the fam.”

���Ooh that sounds lit” I lifted my head up, savoring that cup of hot coffee with dessert “Are you staying over today then? Lili won’t be back until dinner time.”

“Oh I know, Lili doesn’t know I’m here” he gave me a look “I don’t plan on sticking around too long, I just came to drop off the invite to my dad’s wedding and some...other news.”

I squinted my eyes in suspicion “What other news Hoshi?”

“You’ll see over some cafecito” He kept tight lipped.

“Ugh fine!” I put my head back down. I hate it when I get those responses!

Mom finally came home and Hoshi set the table for a cafecito. He even made the coffee so we could all sit down at the same time.

“Okay now that I have everyone I wanted to talk to here” spoke up Hoshi as we were eating our slice of tart “You’re probably wondering why I gathered everyone here.”

“No” blurted Hanaka.

“Because you fucked up” blurted Tensei.

“You got a job?” blurted Mom.

“You’re getting top surgery?” I blurted.

“Oh! It’s because you’re graduating early in the spring?” Dad blurted with an arm chop.

“What? NO!” He said to disarm us “I don’t know what I was expecting from such an outspoken family! But I gathered everyone here because” he took a deep breath and just broke out in a deep blush and grin “Wow this is harder than I thought it was gonna be! Heh, I was hoping to ummm” He looked at our awaiting faces “Hoping if I’d get your blessing to marry Lili, because you’re all so good to me that I want to take the family name. Do you accept this trans-boy as your future-son/brother-in-law?”

The whole table was in silent shock...until Tensei spoke up.

“Imma say it” he forewarned “It’s about fuckin’ finally Hoshi, the family name is unexpected tho.”

“Oh Hoshi! Of course you have our blessing!” Mom said as she hopped up to give Hoshi a hug “But I have to agree with Tensei, it’s been long awaited, huh Tenya?”

Everyone looked over to dad, tears pouring down like waterfalls “Oh my baby is gonna get married! She’s growing up too fast” he blew his nose on his table napkin “I approve and just so happy for you two! It feels like last year she was still screaming to welcome me home from work, and last week like she just entered high school.”

“Oh babe, don’t cry” Mom comforted “you’re embarrassing the kids.”

“Seriously daddy, put the water works away!” huffed Hanaka “Every time we do anything new you start crying!”

“I can’t help it! I didn’t think I’d get to see the day my children get married!” Dad wipes his tears “Someday you’ll understand when you have kids of your own.”

And so we spent the rest of our time together prying details from Hoshi on when and where will be the proposal. He said he’ll wait until they both finish school because he recently got in touch with his mother’s estranged family and found out that there was some inheritance waiting for him and his brothers. So no matter if they get jobs out of college right away or not, they can live off the inheritance comfortably for a good 3 or so years. Good on them! Maybe thats what I’ll do with my money...what’s with this family and inheritance?

-Day of returning to the dorms-

I pack my bag and savor the last of moments of home comforts. I really didn’t want to go back to the dorms but I still need to take my hero final.

“OwO r u decent?” chirped Hanaka from the door “Hewwo? Mr. Obama? May I come in?”

I sigh tiredly “No, pewish.”

“Too bad we’re coming in anyways” Lili said before busting in like Big Bird in that one meme video.

“WHY CAN’T YOU TWO JUST OPEN THE DOOR LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE?!” yelled Tensei from his side of the room, arm chopping “THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED!”

“Ugh shut up DAD!” said the girls in unison, mocking the arm chop.

“Why tho?” I asked, hand on my hip “I need to finish packing.”

“We just wanted to do one last thing before you go!” Hanaka said bouncing up and down.

“I’m not dying guys! We’ll see each other in like 2 weeks for the Welcome Estate Ball” I turned back to my packing “What’s so important that can’t wait until-”

“Iwa look out!” warned Tensei.

I looked back to see the girls mid pounce, giving me just enough time to zip toward the door “Thanks Tensei!”

“Don’t try to escape the dog pile Iwa!” taunted the girls, eyes locked back onto me “It is futile!”

“Save yourself!” Tensei stood in the way of the girls with arms out.

“No! Don’t sacrifice yourself foo!”

“I have already excepted my fate as bottom of the pile” said the little brother as the girls picked themselves up “GO!”

I nod and dash out of our room to escape the dreaded dog pile. Since we were kids, we did these really full contact contests to see who ends up on the bottom of the dog pile. It was fun at first but now we run in fear at the sight of a pounce! Anything goes in this game! We use quirks, fists, throw objects, use distractions...but the moment mom stops everything, it’s game over. I just gotta run outside and get mom to insure game over!

Lili does a front rocket flip to stop me from running to the front yard “You’re not going anywhere Iwee!”

“When the hell did you learn that move?!” I was semi-impressed but still in fear for my life “that was clean as fuck!”

“OOOOOOO! You cursed!” Hanaka called out from the stairs “I’m telling daddy!”

“You little snitch! You wouldn’t dare!” I gasped.

“Watch me! Here, catch Tensei real quick” she said before tossing her twin over the railing, then parkour’d down the stairs to the backyard.

I couldn’t let Tensei just fall like that, so I caught him with my telekinesis before he could hit the ground. But I made the mistake of turning my back on Lili.

“Got cha- oof!” Lili got sight teleported by Tensei.

“Go get mom!” said Tensei before slumping over “I’m done for, they gave me a mad ass wedgie.”

“I’ll avenge you brother!” I did my dramatics before running toward the front door again.

The front door opened “Sopresa puto! It’s me!” Hanaka said as she ran full speed “fell right into my trap!”

I didn’t have time to stop, both of us were going top speed! So we crashed into each other, followed by Tensei that got in the way to soften the fall, then Lili that was in the right place at the wrong time.

“I heard a thud and some Spanish cursing! What’s going on-” said dad as he opened the sliding door from the back yard, poor timing as he got bodied by the four body mass going a full speed. We all slammed onto the just defrosted grass that dad finished doing.

“Oh shit dad are you okay?!” asked Lili.

“This takes me back” groaned Dad with a smile “you kids would always dog pile onto me every time I was laying down in the living room when you were little kids.” he chuckled “No so little now! That knocked the wind out of me.”

“Tenya, is everything okay back there?” asked Mom as she came though the side gate “I heard some- phfffff!” she started laughing “Look at you guys! Piled onto dad like that!” She levitated us off one by one “One last house mischief huh?”

“Yea, we haven’t done all of the winter break antics” grunted Hanaka as she got peeled off me “And I really wanted to spend more time with everyone! Tensei doesn’t wanna always play with me, even if I ask nicely.”

“I’m busy with my band and debate competition cases! We can’t play arson all the time” Tensei defended himself “Are you forgetting that we start middle school in a few days?! It’s time we get a little more serious with our education.”

“Oh wow it’s like listening to a recording” giggled Mom, setting us down on our feet “Your dad would say that last line all the time when we were in high school! It sent me back to those days” she sighed lovingly and turned to face Dad “Remember those times when everyone teased you for calling me up to explain strategy homework?”

Dad turned red and fixed his glasses “It was a difficult subject! I was just doing everyone a favor by asking you to come over to tutor us.”

Lili caught on to his body language “Oh I get it~ You say it’s for ‘tutoring’ but you did it as an excuse to spend more time with Mom” she did her little smug face with arms crossed “You had a big dumb crush on her, didn’t you dad?”

“I- well- I didn’t know how else to spend the maximized amount of time with her” He turned even brighter red and cleared his throat “She was intelligent, charming and super talented. How could I not develop feelings? If only I wasn’t such a coward and confessed when I wanted too, things could’ve been so much different.”

“It’s true, but those what if’s don’t matter anymore” Mom smiled “because we’ve exceeded our wishes and daydreams.” She turned to us “Now, lets get back to what we were doing! Iwata has to leave soon and I don’t want to keep the staff waiting on him all day.”

I go back to finishing up my packing, now with all my siblings in the room on their crackhead shit. When I took my bags down to the driveway, they didn’t want me to leave. And of course Mom had to pry them off me so I can get in the car in peace. The drive with my dad was calm.

“Hey dad” I asked as we stopped at the first light “Did you really pick a fight with Mr Hitoshi over mom?”

“I did” Dad said with a hint of regret “I wasn’t proud of what I did, but I didn’t know how else to express my hurt feelings. Your mom hailed me as her chosen family and I wanted to always be by her side, through whatever life had in store.” We move again “Imagine my hurt when she hid her relationship and shared living situation from me, only finding out by chance. And it was a stupid thing to do, I pushed her away even though I very much still loved her. But we all made up before the wedding and I’m close friends with Mr Hitoshi and Nieto. We go on double dates and other couple things with them, it’s so much fun.”

I thought about my next question carefully “If mom did have a child when you reunited with her, what would you do?”

“Funny enough, I thought about it before I reunited with her” Dad smiled “I was willing to help her raise a child. I’d babysit, teach them things, tuck them into bed... everything a parent would do. I wanted to show your mom I’m capable of providing and nurture, I really wanted to be as much as a man as I could be for her.”

“Did you show her all that?”

Dad chuckled “I didn’t have to try very hard! She had forgiven me way before we reunited and revealed to me that she had always had feelings for me” We turn into the final stretch of street before the dorms “But it felt so lovely to finally say it and have them reciprocate the feeling. I knew from then on, I’d never let her go and be outward with my feelings. Everyday I wake up next to her and think about how much I don’t deserve such an incredible woman nor the family that we made” he looked at me “But I guess I’m worth it.”

“Even if we’re disobedient, rowdy, weird pieces of shit?!”

“Yes, because life would be boring with out all those traits to balance my traits out!” Dad turns into the dorm parking lot “Well Iwata, you really threw us in a loop this winter break. Do your best on your make ups.”

I look at the dorms and take a deep breath “I’ll do my best, thanks dad.”

I waved him off until he was out of sight, then I took my bags into my dorm. Nobody was back yet in my class, mainly because our winter training was canceled due to the villain attacks back in September. I put all my things away and see the empty bed in my dorm. It made me miss Beizu, we’ve never been separated like this before. It’s about 2:45pm and I couldn’t delay my test any longer, to the hero dorms I go!

“Iwata! So nice to see you back in one piece!” beamed Mineta sensei.

I cringed “Don’t tell me my mom told you what happened.”

“No your dad did” Sensei corrected me “I have to say, never did I think it would be you to push it too far. But your dad did the same thing when we were in high school” He hands me the written exam “Alright, take your time on this.”

The written exam wasn’t too bad and I got it done in under an hour. I was excused for the day because the physical part of the exam was going to take place in one of the practice gyms at school in 2 days. Before I could leave to my dorms, the usual clowns saw me.

“Yo Iida-kun!” greeted Gon “You’re back so soon?!”

“Yup, had to take my exams that I missed”

“I heard what happened to your relative” Kage said worried “Are you alright? Sorry about your loss.”

“We’re good, I just had to help with the arrangements” I said relieved that they didn’t know about the other shit “I learned a lot about family this break.”

We went in Gon’s room to chat “...so are you going to take the hero licensing this year?”

“I guess so? But it’s not like I’m going to see you guys there” I responded “Everyone has their license right?”

“No, three people didn’t pass” said Kage “So they’ll be joining you on that.”

“Does that mean you’ll be in the sports festival too?!” Gon jumped excitedly.

“I’m still not sure” I gestured to have him calm down “I don’t want to do an internship for hero work and I don’t want to be on the scope for these villains. And don’t act like that’s not the reason why y’all get attacked on the regular!”

“I guess you have some reasoning there” Gon pondered my words “But imagine you kicking ass out there?! You’d easily get in the top 3!”

“Yeah Iida-kun! You’re one of the strongest ones in the class!” Kage joined in on the hype “At least think about it.”

I looked at the two and slumped in my bean bag chair “Ugh fine I’ll think about it!” I groaned “Still gotta figure myself out though.”

“Like what?” asked the two in sync.

“I’m thinking about getting a support item for my legs” I pointed at my shins “Even after all this training, I still can’t get my legs to keep up with the kick of my arm engines!”

“That would be helpful” Kage looked over my arms “Still can’t believe you haven’t figured it out.”

-Fast forward, afternoon of the Welcome Estate Ball-

“...Your tuxedo Iwata-chan.” said a butler as he draped the formal wear on the bed “Anything else you might need before I go?”

“Thank you, that’ll be all!” I said carefully, not to sound too aggressive.

To tell the truth I’m freaking out about all this! It feels like I’m a prince or something and I’m about to get coronated. Thankfully Beizu agreed to come with me to the estate to take the edge off and be moral support.

“That bath is no joke! Like damn bitch you can live like this?!” Beizu said as he got out of the joint bathroom in a robe in my estate quarters “Ooh! The champagne and snacks are here!”

“Bei I’m freaking out!” I slam myself onto the bed “I’m no rich boy, I’m on this ironic lucky streak that’s becoming my literal nightmare!”

Beizu walks over to me with two glasses in his hand “Iwa, it’s not like you’re pretending that you own everything! Nobody hates you and you just gotta be yourself, as corny as that sounds, it’s true” he hovers the glass of champagne over my face “Lets get a little loose before we have to go socialize with your family.”

All my worries took backseat “Okay a few drinks, I don’t want to puke and embarrass my uncle.”

“To inheritance!” Beizu toasted as I sat up “May you live comfortably the rest of your life!”

I toasted and really thought about those words. Yeah I am going to live comfortably but I also want Beizu to be part of that lifestyle too. In between getting whisked into conversations and having to order servants, I try to get some quality time in with Beizu. Yeah we dorm together but school is kicking our butts and we hardly have time for the usual hanging out. Finally there was a moment where we slipped away into the Lineage Hall for some peace and quiet.

“Wow, look at all the portraits” gasped Beizu “Fucked up eyebrows do run in the family!”

“Right?! Glad my mom has stronger, pretty genes” I chuckled as I led Beizu by the hand “This way! I want to show you something.” All the way at the end was four plaques “Here’s were my portrait will someday hang, alongside my siblings!”

“That’s so cool! When are you going to get yours done?” asked Beizu, taking a closer look at my plaque.

“I want to get mine done when I get married, ya know, so I can have couples portrait” I get a little choked up on my words and blurted “Hey Bei, would you be down to get married at 25 with me, if we’re both still single by then?”

Beizu froze and slowly turned to me, face flushed beet red “Wha?! You want to marry me?!”

“Why not? I trust you and I don’t care what others will say about it” I bring our hands together “Maybe it’s all the alcohol in me, but I want you to take part in these riches with me. You said you’d marry me when I told you how much I inherited, you might’ve been joking around but I mean it! Won’t you be part of my family and riches?”

Beizu pursed his lips to give it a thought “I’ll do it BUT I’M GOING TO HOLD YOU ACCOUNTABLE IWATA EL ROCA IIDA!” he posed and pointed at my nose “If by the time of the stroke of midnight on your 25th birthday and theres no ring on my finger, I’m going to propose in the most extra way that you’ll have to say yes.”

“Deal, I trust you’ll keep me accountable” I pulled them in for a hug “I don’t ever want to go through life without you.”

He brought his hands around my waist “That’s my line, silly” Beizu laughed as he rest his head on my shoulder “I don’t want to go through life without you too.”

We walk down the hall after our little moment to see my little brother having what looks like a mental breakdown. And just outside the window of the hall, in plain view, my parents were really going at it with the making out. It was just so weird looking at them making out like that when Beizu and I spent most of our first year of high school peeking into young mom’s romps with other boys. As for little bro Tensei, I’m sure it’s fine and he’s not on the brink of anything! He’s just a boy after all. Shiet, I’d breakdown if Hanaka was my twin sister too. Beizu and I just minded our business and re-joined the others in the main hall to drink a little more. I hope for more moments like these, then maybe life wouldn’t suck so bad.

-Chapter 11, End-

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#bnha #mha #self insert au #Book 3 chapter 11 #not canon #will update regularly #ask me anything #//Palma-sama Speaks #MORE SIBLING DYNAMICS! And a peek into the future the Hoshi asking for Lili's hand in marriage and Iwa making the pact with Beizu #Also the wrap up of the incident that Iwa remembers was the parallel to his mom's incident in America. #'The answer is love' is the main theme of this AU and Iwa is the only one that truly pieced it together here #Lil bro Tensei's breakdown is important foreshadowing in the next book...be on the look out for that part! #Updates still irregular bc school is still kicking my ass! I've been getting a lot of messages and asks if I'm still doing this. AND I AM #Thank you for all of your interest in this AU! Your messages and feedback are amazing and keep me going :3 stay in the loop for the next one

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Prompt list (Fade) 1-. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

A/N 1: Here it is, finally! I hope the wait will be worth it. Contains mentions of sex/smut. 4610 words.

Update: There’s a Part 2 now!

Find this on Wattpad and on AO3

The Candle Flame

Dusk

Farley POV

By the time the setting sun’s light begins to slant in, I’ve been sitting still for hours. Back straight, rifle perched on my legs, I keep watch at the lookout at the notch’s back entry.

Its door is small, well-hidden and not optimal for a fast and safe evacuation of the twenty-odd people currently residing in the notch. It’ll have to make do, of course, like all Scarlet Guard safe houses as well as our equipment.

To be honest, I don’t expect infiltration from here. The exit isn’t even watched 24/7; on top of Farrah muting any sounds we might produce, a watch patrolling the grounds is considered enough.

I am the one to consider that, obviously. I chose to be here. Alone. Huddled deep in the silence Farrah sinks over the woods because I had the faint hope that if no sounds surround me, then my mind will stay quiet as well.

It works, almost. I’m used to emptying my head when I wait and wait. Part of the job on an operative. It can be meditative or giving me space to concentrate, to look ahead and plan.

The latter is what leads me askew. I can’t think without seeing the dead family from yesterday. Can’t see them without reviving the sight of my dead family four years ago. And I can’t remember my family without –

I grab the rifle tighter and take several deep breaths. I thought I’ve seen enough dead bodies but they always get at you. As I can’t help the foreboding fear the slaughtered little baby caused me.

In a way, I was glad for Mare freaking out. She gave me all the reason to stay calm myself and act swift- and safely.

Mare cuddled into Cal as a result, we all saw it. I told him about the raid we’d witnessed, to look after Mare when she avoided Shade and Kilorn. Seems like the prince had more success.

It was all that I could do for her. Have an eye on the team. Encourage them to help each other. Care for their needs. Basically, still barking orders.

This morning was the same. Overseeing and preparing, walking the grounds with my not-quite-smirk, not-quite-frown expression on my face. The hunters must be setting out by now, searching game in the twilight forest to find us food for tomorrow. Housekeeping, hunting and training, that’s what fills this day both calm and on edge. No one is in haste for another operation but it’ll arrive soon enough. Our ragtag group cannot afford to be idle for long.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, when I had to stop playing pretend that I was alright, I took the chance to come here.

 Today’s dinner must be cooking right now and I can almost smell it, taste it on my tongue. Suddenly, the hunger is upon me and waking absurd fantasies regarding our dinner. I chew on my lips. Kilorn jokes that you can only be hungry or sick but he has no idea how literally I feel these ways lately. I crave food. I can’t look at it. I …

There’s a change of air against the back of my neck. I rise and get in stance although I know there shouldn’t be an enemy behind me –

Someone whistles right beside my ear and covers my eyes. A cry escapes my throat and I ram my elbow behind me, my other hand reaching for the assailant but I grab into nothing because they’re gone, invisible even as I spin on my heels.

They – no, he – is already on my other side, and on another yet again. The corners of my mouth twitch. I put down the rifle and I move with him, yet I merely catch glimpses of his shadow and the grin on his face. I must be wearing the same on mine.

I know this game, our personal sparring that is both a dance and a duel. I try to anticipate and fight him, he jumps away. If he wants to attack me, he risks my superior fighting skills while I can only guess where he will be by grasping the patterns of his movements. I shift and duck, enjoying the exertion as much as the taunting touches he leaves on me.

He prides himself on always catching me in the end.

And I long to be found.

Finally, my instincts scream at me to step forward to my left. He has to be there and as fast as lighting, my arm extends to grab him at the chest.

Instead, my hand is pushed back and I startle as Shade jumps forward another yard at the last moment. I bite back another squeal, to protect my pride but also because he stops my stumbling by gathering me in an embrace, hugging me close.

The bastard.

We pant at the contact, the end of our battle. Inches from each other, we breathe the same air.

“Cheat,” I sneer after a few seconds. He chuckles. I pull at his shirt and choke his laughter with a kiss.

He leans into it greedily. His hands reach up, over the curve of my spine to my shoulder blades. For a second, his fingertips tickle the back of my neck.

I moan and let my mouth travel along his jawline. “Make me forget,” I murmur between kisses.

When his hold tightens, I believe he’s going to give in, touching me until I know nothing but the present and the intimacy between us.

Instead he grows tense. He pulls away, not breaking our embrace but drawing back so much we can stare at each other.

I tense as well, if only not to reveal my turmoil. We’d be perfectly serious, if not for our hugging; grave comrades, if not for his thumb brushing my cheek.

“I should’ve come with you,” he says.

I shake my head ever-so-slightly – it offers me the chance to break eye contact. “You were limping again. Your ankle – “

“A limp doesn’t matter to me.”

His gaze catches mine again. I know he means his teleporting, as I know being able to teleport isn’t the same as being in perfect health. I also know that Shade is right, we need him now that Harrick has made clear, even without saying it out loud, that he won’t join our operations again.

I am aware of all that but what I focus on is how similar we are, Shade and I. Both we are raised by the responsibility the cause gives us, both we feel its weight.

He is my partner, my equal, in all regards.

I’m intensely aware of my palms on his waist, the warmth and shape of his body. Of his breathing.

I clear my throat, evading his eyes. “I’m okay,” I say, shaking my head to get a tress of hair out of my face. “You should look after Mare” – he winces – “or Harrick, or Ada.”

The mention of his sister has scored a hit, obviously, he’s tried and failed to talk to her. But he recovers quickly and I realize he’s done all of that already. Shade Barrow knows to how to care for his comrades, in many regards.

Because he is a better friend than I am.

“I’ve come to you,” he says, and there it is again, his yearning, his desire. For me. I feel his touch on my shoulders but more than that, it speaks of the depth of what he feels for me – and I for him.

Shade means more to me than anyone else in the last years.

I haven’t let anyone else get this close to me. I did what I had to, became who I had to be. For survival, to go on, to make a few victories, how little they were.

It’s not enough any longer.

I’m not enough.

I recognize it. I’ll have to pry my heart open. I have change, once more, for him, for –

I swallow, as if to keep in all I need to tell him, what I haven’t told anybody. I don’t even know where to start.

I look up. “Shade,” I begin carefully. Sadness and hesitation swing in my voice.

Suddenly, he startles. He lifts his hands to cup my face, making it impossible for me to turn my eyes away. “Don’t try this, Diana,” he grumbles. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.“

I realize he misunderstood and it’s my fault. Too often, I’ve played it cool and aloof. The need to reply increases. His stare would be enough to claim my full attention, even without his hands framing my face.

Almost. Heat rushes to my head in further embarrassment. I want to give in and reassure and kiss him and get on, but as his words reverberate through my mind, my thoughts speed back to the suspicions plaguing me, to the question I both want answered and to run from.

As I open my mouth to agree, no reply but only laughter escapes. Not just friends.

If only, Shade, if only.

Do you have any idea how much more we are – could be?

Even as he frowns at me, I merely laugh harder, so hard it shakes me and I can only squint at him. I grab him tighter, bringing us chest to chest, leaning my head into his hands.

He falls in eventually, seemingly without noticing the obscure meaning behind my laughter, only the ridiculousness of his claim.

We’re not just friends and so I kiss him, hungrily, my desire for him quickly replacing my former wish for food.

That wish comes and goes so fast these days.

When we have to catch breath and our laughter dies down, I brush over his neck, my thumb caressing his cheek with its faint stubble. I lift an eyebrow. “Not good taste to dismiss the importance of friendship, Barrow,” I tease him.

He snorts. Well, who am I to talk? He has more and closer friends than me. “I’d never,” Shade insists, playfully, and our faces soften in tandem. “We are friends, after all,” he concedes, but puts a finger on my lips before I can retort.

“We became friends and now we’re something else on top,” he says, like he wants to go on. But he hesitates, looking puzzled.

I wait for him, holding my breath. I am – not expecting him to share my suspicions, no. Just dying to hear how he defines us.

He swallows. “We’ve been comrades, friends, and now … we’re in love.”

I haven’t guessed how much this admission, this little word, would shake me with its truth. My heart races and so does his, as I can feel with one hand on his chest and another on his neck.

“Yes,” I breathe, almost inaudibly, before I kiss him in confirmation.

 The world sways. Darkness falls; whether I open or close my eyes, I can only make out moving flashes of colour. I stop trying quickly. I hold on to Shade instead because I begin to understand what’s going on here, he’s teleporting us somewhere. I’d curse at him if I didn’t fear losing my breath or throwing up if I did.

It goes on and on and even with my weakness when it comes to jumping, I grasp we’re covering a longer distance. I just want it to stop and return to feeling nothing and nobody but Shade – until it suddenly does end.

It’s like dropping out of the sky and while I’m afraid of the fall for the fraction of a second, there comes no pain – as the moment I sense my surroundings again, I lie on a huge, soft bed with Shade propping himself up above me.

I blink wildly, gasping. Shade grins, even as my fingers bore into his arms as if I still fear losing contact to earth.

He bends forward to kiss my brow. “You didn’t think I’d keep making you sick, did you?” he murmurs, helping me up as he sits up on his haunches.

“What?” I say tonelessly before I realize: No nausea rising up my throat after teleporting for once. My hand lifts to me stomach nonetheless, out of reflex, as my head spins to take stock of my new surroundings. A huge room, both lavish and neglected, used – or rather out of use – and very dusty.

I look at Shade. “You’ve trained?”

He nods and I have to bite my lips. I wish he was really right about not giving me nausea anymore. In all regards.

Shade doesn’t let go of my hand even once we’ve risen from the bed. He holds it up, leading me like I was a Silver lady and he my dancing partner. I’d chuckle if the gesture wasn’t so entrancingly charming, to both him and me.

He brings me to the other end of the room and bids me sit at a small table covered with a white cloth – besides the bed sheets, the only furniture that appears truly clean in here.

His palms press on my shoulders in reassurance because I can’t stop glimpsing around, in every corner. It gets at me how uncanny the place is. I expect Maven’s sentinels to appear, or an old Silver hiding in the abandoned house.

The image of a lone Silver reminds me of the time I encountered one before, in the night that resulted in the scar on my face, and Shade and I –

Inadvertently, I seek Shade’s eyes at the memory and as if he can read my thoughts, he blushes along with me.

“You don’t have to worry, Dee, I’ve scouted the manor for a while,” he says. He’s rounding the table, flattening the cloth to fight his irresistible nervousness. Slowly, a smile spreads over his face and the next time he reaches me, he whispers in my ear, “for now, this is our palace.”

Shade pulls candles out of his backpack and I follow him with my eyes as he lights and places them around us. “Unfortunately, there’s no electricity,” he says. “No running water either.”

As yet, the sunset lasts, casting a bright orange light from the windows. The sun and the flames array Shade in a warm halo belying his name.

Hadn’t he told me to stay seated, I’d be too transfixed to move either way. He’s so beautiful. I long to stay in this dream he turned this evening into. Forget the bloodshed of the morning and hide with him from the world and the future.

But that is only a dream.

I laugh in rejoice when he presents the food he took from the notch. Damn, I might’ve ignored it for a while, but I’m still hungry. The air is filled with the smells of spices and cooked venison, decorated with mushrooms and vegetables, all served on the same wrappers they were brought in here.

“I got the table here, but it would’ve taken too long to search for and clean the silver plates,” Shades apologizes as he sits down opposite me.

I shake my head and squeeze his hand. “No matter. It’s better this way.”

“The food has gotten cold enough already?” he teases.

I shrug, smiling back at him. I can’t wait to eat, to enjoy, devour, this dinner and not giving my unpredictable stomach a chance to change its mind on the food.

I eat careful and slowly for the same reason, taking my fill but not more. Food alone can’t sate me either way. During the meal, our fingers find each other over the table to play and tangle, and our gazes do the same.

The candlelight becomes him. It reveals new colours in his sable hair, hues of dark brass and bronze, and brings out the warm tones of his brown skin as well as the elegant lines of his face.

Does my face disclose my yearning as much as his?

In my ears, the ring of our laughter, the sound of his voice, shift into a kind of music that is both enticing and existing only for us.

When our makeshift plates are empty, I rise from my chair and go to Shade’s. He twists in his seat and I sit down on his lap. I kiss him, tasting him as much as the residues of the delicious meal. “Thank you,” I whisper once more. He giggles and his hands go to my hips as my fingers dig into his back. For a while. It’s not easy, but I pull away and get up, smirking.

He grins back. “Time to clean up.” He understands the game well enough, the procrastination of lust. We remove the traces of our dinner, even carry away the table.

Whenever our eyes meet, it pierces like a knife.

Whenever we touch, by accident, it is electrifying.

The draw between us grows stronger by the second. When we’re done cleaning up, there’s only us, the candles, and the bed. I stand before him, letting the last of our things drop into his bag without looking. I have only eyes for him.

“Well,” I begin, having no mind for further words.

He doesn’t need any. He smiles with his hands on my waist, and in the next moment he pins me against the wall, kissing me.

I feel his fingers on the naked skin of my waist; so fast has he found his way under my shirt. When we gasp for breath, I use the second of pause to spin us around, pinning Shade against the wall around the corner.

His laughter tingles between our tongues. I moan as his fingertips press deeper into the muscled flesh on my back; I love it when he touches me there.

In a frenzy, always keeping in touch with some body part or other, we step away from the corner, shedding out shirts and loosening our belts as we inch for the bed. It’s like both a dance and a duel – like the sparring fight we had before – and neither, just us, Shade and me.

When the backs of my legs tackle the high bed, I fall behind, holding on only by my hands on Shade’s waistband. He doesn’t let me down. He takes my wrists and pulls me forward, then heaves me up by my hips.

I yelp. Only them do we fall on the foot of the bed. I want him closer, caressing his spine and butt and kissing his neck but first he props himself up by his elbows, then he presses his palm on my stomach, between my ribs.

My eyes widen, locking with his.

Does he guess?

His gaze is intense and questioning like mine. I breathe against the weight of his hand and he feels it, I can see. My cheeks heat as the colour deepens in his. It’s strangely intimate, enthralling. The moment lasts long and even though the unsettling question returns to my mind, I cherish every second of t.

“You’re both soft and strong,” he marvels softly. Finally, he removes his hand and lets it glide over my sides to slowly shove off my rousers.

I smile as I sit up to unclasp my bra. “Thanks for the compliment,” I reply before I let my fingers wander over his chest in return. “I’m sure,” I say with certain awe, “that many people told you how beautiful you are, too.”

From the corners of my eyes, I glimpse his face as I kiss him. His smile is shy and precious. “They weren’t you,” he whispers, very quietly.

 He goes down on me, not even alluding to penetration or mentioning condoms – as if that’s not safe enough. I want to cackle. I should say, “no need for concern, it’s already too late.”

I’ve seen it, how his expression wavered when he leaned atop me, just before he made that compliment. Instead I surrender to the pleasure he gives me. I follow suit, using only my hands and mouth to make him come.

It’s easier this way, on this evening we grant ourselves to forget our fears, be they small or large, private or shared by our allies.

 “I’d like to sleep here,” I admit eventually, knowing we should return to our duties at the notch. But I’m tired and this night so perfect. Shade has to feel the same as his longing expression is enough of an answer.

I put my shirt back on for warmth as he extinguishes the candles, every one but the last which goes out right when we lie down in a hug, he behind me and pressing a kiss on the back of my neck as we snuggle in the blankets.

I ignore how sensitive my breasts are to his touch, switching from treat to discomfort and back again from one second to another. Just as I ignore how I change from energized to exhausted, hungry to nauseous, generally.

The biggest cowards are those who lie to themselves.

 He wakes me with a pat on my shoulder and a kiss on my chin. Or did I dream that? A yawn escapes my throat and I blink furiously against the candle on the nightstand he’s lit again. Shade’s gaze is warmer than it.

I moan against the lingering sleepiness and sit up. Then it’s no longer just sleepiness – my sight wavers and my sense of balance shatters as the nausea rises.

I jump up despite it and rush to the adjacent bathroom. There might be no running water but a drain is a drain. I bend over and retch.

Shade follows. He gathers my hair out of my face and draws circles over my back. It’s soothing, even when the heaving stops. His palm stays on the small of my back as I get up carefully.

He hands me a bottle of water and I drink gratefully, rinsing my mouth and flushing the sink with it.

My heart still beats too fast. Delicately, I hold on to his arms.

The corners of his mouth twitch. He lifts his head to kiss my brow, waits, and kisses me on the mouth. Blood rushes to my head. I can’t taste nice and l feel a lick of shame over throwing up – part of – our dinner.

He doesn’t care about that. He cares about me.

I hug him tight. “I love you.”

The words spill out by themselves. I’m shocked by them as I know they’re true.

Shade is similarly aghast. And yet, mixed with his startlement is this innate determination of his. I’ve seen this face on him often – and often, I am a cause of it. Sometimes, he seems surprised by it himself, by how far he’s come and how far he could go. It bespeaks both his innocence and commitment and it’s drawn me to him from the moment we met.

He cups my head in his hands. “I love you too, Diana,” he says.

His tenderness is piercing. I bury my face in his chest so he can’t see my quivering lip. Why do I even want to hide it though – because I’m used to bottle up my emotions?

That bottle began to fracture the moment we met, too. In truth, I want more. Crave more. More than quick fucks in the shadows of days and nights filled with planning, fighting, running.

I want a life.

I look up to his eyes and wish to find his earnest, loving gaze on me every time I fall asleep or wake up, without fearing it’ll be the last time. I imagine the last evening wasn’t a dream or an escape but our real future where we can cook together in a safe place we’ve made our own, along with our family.

I close my eyes, resisting the temptation to kiss him into oblivion. The time for forgetting and evasion is over. If I want to bring about a different world, I can’t run away from myself.

Shade’s lips brush my temple as I move. I shake my head ever so slightly and lead him back to the bed where we sit down. I don’t look at him. I clench and unclench my fists, breathing heavily.

“I’ve missed my period,” I say. Silence. No answer but a choked breath.

“It should’ve come around the time of the Sun Shooting,” I continue. “I didn’t even notice until weeks later. And then …” I grimace. “Well, if I was too stressed out to notice, maybe I was too stressed out for my period as well.” I suppress a cackle, blindly searching for Shade’s hand. I can feel his fast pulse.

Quietly, I go on. “But there’s still … nothing, after two months.” I clear my throat and finally turn to Shade. “You know what that could mean?”

I frown at him yet my hand squeezes his. Waves of emotions flicker over his face but he tries so hard to stay calm. Just like me. His throat twitches. “You … might be pregnant.”

“Might,” I insist. He nods reluctantly.

I fall back on the bed, balling my fists against my eyes. Shade lies down beside me. His touch, his presence, always so tender and soothing when we are together. So soft as if daunted and yet exactly what I need.

I know a different side of him as well though: when we stand side by side, watching our backs before the enemy.

His voice is a similar kind of caress. “Is that what you want?” It’s a whisper filled with understanding and the wish to understand more yet. I yearn him to. I’ve let him in and don’t want him to let go.

“I couldn’t have a child at the notch,” I say in a decidedly neutral voice. “Nor care for one. We don’t have …” I sigh. “My mother almost died of a fever after my sister was born. It was mere luck we could get medicine in time.” I glance at Shade.

“The notch was never an option to stay at forever,” he says slowly. But his voice lifts at the end of the sentence. Slightly, yet the hint of a question nonetheless. His thumb brushes over the back of my hand.

I know. I know what I didn’t say, what I haven’t denied. No “I don’t want a child”, and he realized that.

I didn’t want to get pregnant. I don’t want to be afraid for a baby.

I’ve ignored the signs, brushed off my suspicions because I wanted them to be false.

But that are also the only “nos” in my mind.

I’m not sure.

Maybe not.

I can’t be certain.

I’ve wished not to be pregnant in the first place because that would be the easiest way. Yet if I accept it – just for a second, just a little bit – to be true … I feel a small surge of protectiveness. My palm glides from my ribs over my abdomen to my thigh. I look at the candle flame burning low.

If I bled right now, be it my belated period or an early miscarriage, I’d feel both relief and loss.

Shade inches closer to me. His gaze earths me. “What happened to your mother and sister?” he asks, tucking a curl behind my ear. He already knows about my father who’s cold and uncaring toward me and everyone else. There is still so much to tell him.

I swallow. “They died,” I reply tonelessly. I close my eyes and the light of the candle flame still burns on my eyelids.

When I open my eyes, the candle has gone out.

“Shade. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I know,” he murmurs. He holds me tighter. “And I’m with you, Diana.”

A/N 2: As we can see Farley having some substantial character development in books 3 and 4, I wanted to show the moment where she decides to change towards being less reserved and more caring toward her friends and comrades.

@elliemarchetti @lilyharvord  @marecal-trash @mareshmallow @avid-author-activist @goldfincheli @loveverygalaxybouquetstuff @misslucyhutton @redqueenfandom @farleydiana @scxrletguardsdawn @maudthebookeater @blairistired @inopinion

#red queen #red queen fanfiction #red queen fan fiction #victoria aveyard #diana farley #shade barrow #farley x shade #shade x farley #glass sword #war storm #king's cage #clara farley-barrow #the candle flame #red queen one-shot

[liesandarbor]

Meera is going to wield Dark Sister *at least once,* and become the vehicle to move it to Arya.

Six years ago in King's Landing, Dunk had seen him with his own two eyes, as he rode a pale horse up the Street of Steel with fifty Raven's Teeth behind him. That was before King Aerys had ascended to the Iron Throne and made him the Hand, but even so he cut a striking figure, garbed in smoke and scarlet with Dark Sister on his hip. His pallid skin and bone-white hair made him look a living corpse. The Sworn Sword

Last night, @buskerlenny​ had an opportunity to ask GRRM a question at Worldcon, and boy, did she deliver for us: George confirmed that Bloodraven took the Valyrian longsword Dark Sister with him to the wall.  

There was no ‘keep reading’, no ‘you never know’, but a simple yes.  Those three letters opened up a whirlwind of ideas and questions.  Is it now in the cave?  Who will wield it? Why did he take it North?   

Dark Sister possibly showing up in the Winds of Winter means more than the eye thinks - it supports the idea that Valyrian steel is coming even more to the forefront as Winter Comes in TWOW (see: Euron’s Armor).

So yes, it makes logical sense that one of the very few things that can defeat Others - Dragon Steel - happens to be in a cave North of the wall, where one of our heroes is currently wearing tree bondage and pretty much surrounded by snow zombies.

But I’m not here to worry about Brandon Stark.  Bran’s Last Hero journey is, for the moment, surrounded by three protectors - and as Bran more than likely loses two of those protectors in TWOW (Hodor, Jojen), we can expect to see Dark Sister wielded by the end of the book.

I might also add that Visenya is the most likely of the two to garb herself as a warrior, and when so garbed, she would wield the Valyrian longsword Dark Sister, whose slender blade is designed for a woman's hand. GRRM

The many speculations about who’s hands Dark Sister will be equipped in generally circle in on one person, which is Arya Stark.  And of course, Arya is a perfect candidate for Dark Sister.  Visenya Targaryen, the warrior sister-wife-Queen of Aegon I Targaryen (not to be confused with her poetry, art-loving sister-wife-Queen, Rhaenys), serves as a great indicator for Arya’s ownership of  (yes, we get it, it’s a Jon/Sansa/Arya parallel).  It’s definitely an upgrade from Needle, Arya’s “childhood” sword, and a real-deal-Valyrian-sword; the perfect transition for Arya into “womanhood”.

This is all fine and dandy, but Dark Sister is currently sitting in a cave that will be overcome with ice creatures at some point, and for Arya to own Dark Sister, it’s going to have to come South.  And who else could possibly be the perfect vehicle for that sword than the exhausted, ferociously loyal young girl helping to drag the Last Hero around, watching her brother slowly die North of the wall?

"He wants to go home," Meera told Bran. "He will not even try and fight his fate. He says the greendreams do not lie."

"He's being brave," said Bran. The only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid, his father had told him once, long ago, on the day they found the direwolf pups in the summer snows. He still remembered.

"He's being stupid," Meera said. "I'd hoped that when we found your three-eyed crow … now I wonder why we ever came.”

For me, Bran thought. "His greendreams," he said. "His greendreams." Meera's voice was bitter.  "Hodor," said Hodor. Meera began to cry.

Bran hated being crippled then. "Don't cry," he said. [...] The floor was rough and uneven, and it would be slow going, full of scrapes and bumps. I could put on Hodor' s skin, he thought. Hodor could hold her and pat her on the back. The thought made Bran feel strange, but he was still thinking it when Meera bolted from the fire, back out into the darkness of the tunnels. He heard her steps recede until there was nothing but the voices of the singers.  Bran III, ADWD

With Meera’s emotional state - and brother’s life - on the decline, we should see her fulfilling the Dark Sister role for a while indeed.   Not only emotionally, but physically, too.  Meera Reed is already known for her skill with a slender, long frog spear.

Meera moved in a wary circle, her net dangling loose in her left hand, the slender three-pronged frog spear poised in her right. Summer followed her with his golden eyes, turning, his tail held stiff and tall. Watching, watching . . ."Yai!" the girl shouted, the spear darting out. Bran IV, ACOK

But with Mikken slain and the ironmen guarding the armory, good steel had been hard to resist, even if it meant grave-robbing. Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained that it was too heavy. Bran VII, ACOK 

Meera notably finds carrying the heavy sword that had been Lord Rickard Stark’s, made for a grown adult male, difficult, but Dark Sister may be the perfect answer for her to fend off Wights as they travel South.  And Meera more than has the ferocity to wield it.

 "I dreamed of the man who came today, the one they call Reek. You and your brother lay dead at his feet, and he was skinning off your faces with a long red blade."Meera rose to her feet. "If I went to the dungeon, I could drive a spear right through his heart. How could he murder Bran if he was dead?"  Bran V, ACOK

Bran backed away, bleeding, and Meera Reed was there, driving her frog spear deep into the wight's back. "Hodor," Bran roared again, waving her uphill. "Hodor, hodor." Jojen was twisting feebly where she'd laid him down. Bran went to him, dropped the longsword, gathered the boy into Hodor's arm, and lurched back to his feet. "HODOR!" he bellowed. Meera led the way back up the hill, jabbing at the wights when they came near. Bran II, ADWD

Transporting the Last Hero home is a hard job - and while some believe Bran, an incredibly important POV in ASOIAF, will be stuck in a cave forever sitting in this said cave having visions, eating blood sacrifices, maybe skinchanging a dragon once and that’s the end of his story, I know this sounds ridiculous to me too, please let’s get real, he’s going to leave the cave if his arc is going to continue  , I tend to err that this is one thing that show may have gotten right.  The ingredients are there - a cave surrounded by nothing but snow zombies and mythical, fantastical and dying out creatures in the middle of nowhere. It doesn’t exactly scream forever a safe haven.  That cave exists because it is going to get fucked the hell up, my friends.  Especially when you consider Bran’s role as a hero... if his companions die, his dog dies, and their other swords break in the cold.

So, what a perfect moment that will be.  Ice zombies trickling up and down the halls, Meera’s frogspear breaks, Hodor sacrifices himself, maybe Summer even falls to Winter... and just when all is about to be lost, out emerges Dark Sister, and Meera’s hands grip the pommel of that skinny, gleaming blade, slashing it down Wights, and protecting Brandon Stark. 

Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. She was older than Arya, though; almost sixteen, a woman grown. They were both older than Bran, even though his ninth name day had finally come and gone, but they never treated him like a child.  Bran IV, ACOK

Bran sees Arya in Meera on more than one occasion, and for good reason.  Both are empathetic, and skilled with their choice of weapon.  The likened traits he sees in the girls are a product of a little boy’s yearning to be reunited with his family, but also deliberate.  Arya and Meera definitely have a lot in common.  This makes the passage of Dark Sister from Meera’s hand to Arya’s smooth.  

While Meera is strong and skilled, Dark Sister won’t be forever hers. Why? She just won’t want it. In fact, it won’t surprise me if she won’t want this lifestyle in any capacity any longer. She’ll return Bran South of the Wall, and eventually return home (possibly with her brother’s bones), tired, defeated, and ready to mourn.  And her family probably won’t hold it against her - protecting Stark children is a hard job, and sometimes it’s near impossible; just ask Howland Reed.

BONUS, SHINY TINFOIL (that will never happen, and I’ve made my peace with this):

While Meera may not hang on to Dark Sister for more than a moon’s turn, wouldn’t it be neat if her basically-canonical-parentage-according-to-me, Ashara Dayne and Howland Reed, granted her more than Dark Sister, and wielding the Valyrian sword only lended her to embrace her proto-Valyrian bloodline, and she emerged the god damn Sword of the Morning, brandishing Dawn through delicately spun White Walker bones? OKAY, COOL, GLAD WE’RE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE, MEERA REED IS NOW THE SWORD OF THE MORNING.

#meera reed #worldcon 2018 #dark sister #asoiaf meta #meera meta #bran stark

[spacerockwriting]

Museum Art

Thanks to  @littlerose13writes​ for Shipmas Prompt Day 5!

✨🎄Shipmas day 5: The Quibbler’s Guide to Avoiding Nargles in Your Mistletoe This Christmas🎄✨

Pairing: Albus Potter x Lorcan Scamander, Albus Potter x Scorpius Malfoy (mentioned) Rating: General Words:3149 Summary: Scorpius was in Switzerland; Albus was at the Scamanders. The Potters get to have a holiday get together at the Scamander's house. Read on A03

“Al, go brush your hair again,” Ginny chastised her middle son. “James, do not under any circumstances bring those with you. We do not need another lecture about how those are made with animals. Lily,” Ginny says, and glances at her youngest. “Put on a jacket. It’s cold this time of year. But yes—“She’s learned over the years to let the small battles win. Some fights are not worth the tears. “You can wear your flower crown.”

“Am I alright?” A teasing voice pops into view. Ginny glances over at her husband. He’s in a normal dark grey jumper with slacks, his wild hair famously remaining untamed.

“Handsome as always,” Ginny replies, going to kiss her husband.

“Ew, gross.” The first voice is from their eldest son. He’s making a gagging motion with his finger to his throat. Hopping off the landing, James leans against the staircase railing. “Dunno why you’re so keen on us looking proper. Auntie Luna rejects those sorts of things.”

“She says free expression is the window to the soul,” Lily says, twirling off the landing and modeling off her flower crown. “Do you like these, Mum, Daddy?” Her eyes shone.

“Pretty as a petal, Flower.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Now where is that brother of yours? Al!” He calls up the stairs.

“I’m coming,” he calls back. He hops down the last step onto the landing. “I’m ready,” he declares, going to tie up his black converse shoes.

“Good, because we’re flooing there. We’re set to arrive in no more than ten minutes.” Harry taps his watch, instructing his children to gather towards the fireplace.

Albus hates flooing. It makes him dizzy and nauseous, and he feels himself getting sick. He steps out the fireplace of the Scamander’s residence and winces. He feels even more nauseous and Ginny immediately goes over to her youngest son.

“Drink this Al,” Ginny instructs her son. She sits him down on a nearby chair and spoons a potion into his mouth. Albus swallows the spoonful and winces at the taste. It’s the most dreadful potion he’s ever tasted and he hates it. Ginny smooths at her son’s hair as he rests, then kisses the top of it. “You’ll be fine in a few minutes. Why don’t you go say hi to everyone?” She suggests, although it’s less of a suggestion and more of a force.

Albus immediately runs into his Aunt Luna, his mother not far behind at all.

“Albus, hi,” she greets him. She’s wearing some sort of odd colourful dress, the skirt swirling about as she walks. “Ginny!” She greets his mother with slightly more enthusiasm. “I invited your brother along too, but he declined. He says not until Lorcan and Lysander learn to behave. Lyssie didn’t mean to bite; he was only checking to test Hugo for mites. Some of them live on skin, you know. I think his shoes are rather too tight, don’t you? He needs to expand his horizons more.”

Albus ducks away as his mother chats with her best friend. He takes a seat on the couch as he eyes the living room. The Scamanders house was the most colourful place Albus has ever visited. All the rooms were painted different colours, and the furniture was arranged to make the place more zen. Albus isn’t very sure what that means, and he always tunes his aunt out when she starts talking about it.

Everything is very minimal, with several books and things littering around the house. The decorations are scarce, but are still visible. There is no holiday tree, but there are stockings on the fireplace and trays of food in the dining area. The house feels open. It is nothing like the strict world of visiting Malfoy Manor with rules and the smell of clean floors.

He didn’t bring anything to do, strictly because he didn’t have time. Normally, he’d bring a book to read, or his sketchbook to draw. But his family was in such a hurry, he didn’t have time to grab anything. Plus, his family were stuck in the ideas of Albus socializing more.

Albus hated social events with his family. While the Scamanders weren’t as horrible as his muggle cousins were, it was still an uncomfortable situation for the antisocial Slytherin. Plus, he always mixed up the twins, despite having a teeny crush on one of them. The twins always seemed to hype up their alike-ness when Albus was around, as if it were some kind of game.

As if on cue, the two twins came down the stairs. Both had their mother’s blond, but their fathers sun kissed skin. Both boys didn’t seem to care too much for shoes, and right now their hair was combed the exact same way and style. The only thing keeping them apart were their clothes. Lysander was in an oversized jumper, while Lorcan was dressed in a ripped t-shirt with a niffler printed on the front. But even different clothing didn’t stop Albus from knowing who was who.

“Hey Albie,” they both greet in unison. Albus nods to both of them. He squints, because he knows he should be able to tell the two apart. But even in their different attires, he can’t. He recalls the last time he could tell them apart, and that was back when Lysander had cut his hair short, and Lorcan hadn’t. But now both boys have their hair the same length again, and currently styled the same way.

“Lorcan, Lysander,” Albus greets the two with a mumble. Pink creeps to his face because he has a teeny crush on Lorcan, and right now both were messing with him. “If the two of you are going to fuck with me, then I’m going to take a nap,” he mumbles, and excuses himself from the boys. Sometimes if he’s lucky, he can convince his mum that he was getting overwhelmed and needed to go lie down. He’s hoping the nausea from the floo would be more convincing this time around. The trick doesn’t always work, and his mum encourages him only use it when necessary. Mostly, he ends up using it during a rather long party at the Burrow. But today just seems to fit one of those needing to escape moods.

He knows his way around the Scamander household, having been visiting it all his life. Going up the stairs, he takes the left to their guest room, crashing onto the bed. There are a variety of books piled on tables and maps everywhere.  Rolf was probably working on something like his grandfather, something that would no doubt fill Scorpius with glee.

Scorpius.

Albus’ heart aches for Scorpius. The boy is away on holiday with his father. They left right at break, and wouldn’t be home until the train left. Scorpius had mentioned his father wanting to do a ski holiday in Switzerland, so that’s where they’re spending their holidays.

Scorpius was in Switzerland; Albus was at the Scamanders. Then, not too long into the New Year, Albus and his family would be forced to spend an awkward tea session with his Uncle Dudley.  Once a year, the Potters would dress up in their muggle best and go off to play muggle. Harry and Dudley would sit in silence, occasionally making the smallest of talk about the weather or the kid’s school, while the children would be forced to mingle. The only reason for this was Dudley’s wife, encouraging her husband to spend time with his remaining family. She seemed far more interested in the families getting together than both boys did. Surely, she would be appalled at how her husband and his cousin didn’t care for the family gatherings.

Lying on the bed of the Scamander guest room brought out horrid memories of times when Albus was forced to be babysat by his Auntie Luna. She wasn’t into routine, and that lack of routine absolutely devastated the four year old who loved it when people played into things how he wanted them. Luna always did things her own way, and that included babysitting Albus. There wasn’t a telly in the house, and not being able to watch his silly cartoon after naptime used to seem like the end of the world.

She always brings up how he’d cry at bath time, because he hated having his hair washed and brushed, and how he was such a free spirit eater, which was just a polite word for Albus was king at getting food mashed into his fringe. Albus is sure next time he heads downstairs, his Auntie Luna would bring that story up, while Rolf would add on to how him and Albus used to hunt for bugs in the garden together. Then, one of them would show off the cute photograph of a young Albus and younger twins, together in a large mud puddle.

Although, the stories are usually better than the ones his Gran often tells.

Albus lays on the bed and stares at the books piling high around the table. There are maps scattered and tacked to the wall with dots on them. He knows what the dots mean, as it’s something to do with traveling and beasts. He knows that both twins have an interest in following after their father and great-grandfather, and Scorpius too, yearns for those quests.

He grabs at one of the plush animals on the bed and curls up with it. He misses Scorpius, and Scorpius should be here because Scorpius loves the twins and gets along, and they never do that stupid switching thing on Scorpius. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force himself to sleep. He supposed he’ll just deal with the disappointment talks later.

“I told you that was a dumb idea, Lys,” the boy snips, crashing up the stairs. “Dressing to fuck with Al like that. Scor isn’t here to set it straight, leaving him to just be even more confused. His mum said he’s practically blind without his glasses.”

“It was funny, and you know it was. Al needs to stop closing himself off so much. He’s a nice kid, but Merlin, does he need to stop sometimes. All that introversion can’t be good for him.”

Lorcan huffs. “He’s not doing it on purpose. Aunt Ginny has said he has some disorder or disease or something. You know as well as I that he’s always been like this.”

There are a few things that can trigger Albus awake. One, is thunderstorms, and two, certain words. Albus has trained himself to immediately awake when hearing certain phrases. The words disorder and disease being some of them. Sitting up, his hands fling to his hair and he moves his knees to his chest.

Oh no, oh no, oh no

A panic is sent through Albus as he hears the door knob jingle. The door opens and Albus looks at the blond haired, sun kissed boy. It’s only one of them, as the other seemed to have left. He’s pretty sure it’s the one he has the teeny crush on—Lorcan.

“Hey Al,” he greets, and goes to shut the door. “I figured you’d be up here.”

“Being an antisocial freak and all,” Albus spits back.

“Lysander didn’t mean it like that,” he defends.  The clarification is all he needs to know. The boy up here isn’t Lysander, its Lorcan. “But you heard him, didn’t you?”

Albus moves his knees closer to his chest. “If you’re here to try and convince me I’m not some antisocial freak, then you should probably go.”

“You’re not a freak,” Lorcan replies. “I’ve known you longer than Scorpius, and I can confirm that you’re not a freak. Yeah you’ve got your quirks, but Lysander’s being a dumbarse. Part of being open minded is understanding that not everyone has your same views and values.” Lorcan doesn’t go sit on the bed and goes to grab his copy of The Quibbler sitting on the table. “Mum’s still trying to teach him that. Them, sorry,” Lorcan corrects.

“Right,” Albus replies with a brow raised.

“Yeah,” Lorcan continues. “Lys just doesn’t seem to understand just what they say sometimes. You’re not the most closeminded person. Your Uncle Ron is way more close minded than you. And Mum says you’ve been to those brain wash people when you were little. They teach you those things. You’re not a freak.”

“Therapist,” Albus corrects. “It’s not brain washing,” he defends, but only slightly. He thinks maybe Lorcan could be right. He had to be taught a lot of basic skills and mindsets. He had to follow whatever he was being taught. If his therapist was in a certain mindset, there was no doubt that he’d of picked up on said mindset.

“To help your manners. Not saying you didn’t need it,” Lorcan teased. He turns pages in the magazine he’s holding. “Even Mum thought your manners were deplorable, and she’s the least worried about those things. Besides, you’re way more creative than Lys. Your creativity is more like, museum art, whereas Lys’ is street art.”

Albus raises his brow at the compliment. “Museum art?”

“Yeah! The way you draw and paint is good. Mum used to love your finger paints. Your music, too. It’s actual talent. I’ve seen your writing, too. You can’t be a creative person and be closeminded. You also can’t be a close minded person and pierce your lip and eyebrow, and play that music you like. It’s not possible.” Lorcan shifts the magazine upside down, staring intensely at one of the pages. “Next time ignore Lys. They try to be more open than they are.” Lorcan tilts his head to the side. “We should probably get downstairs.”

“Mum’s calling me?” Albus feels a bit better. The one on one talk didn’t seem to hurt him, in fact, it seemed to make him feel a bit more comfortable. Lorcan was better at getting through to him than his twin was. Lysander seemed to not understand anything about introversion. Lorcan, however, seemed to understand Albus’ needs. Not at the same level of Scorpius, but, it was good enough.

“No,” he responds, looking around the room. “I think the nargles might be hiding in the closet.”Albus rolls his eyes in response. The Scamander family always talked about nargles, but no one ever saw them. Nargles were always something to be avoided, yet they were never found. “They’re probably attracted to your energy. And there could be mistletoe downstairs, and nargles love hiding in mistletoe.” Lorcan grabs Albus’ wrist around his hands. The touch is warm, and Albus feels the difference between him and Scorpius.

Scorpius has hands that are long and delicate, where as Lorcan’s are rough. Calluses line the boy’s hand from all the outdoor work he had done with his father and great-grandfather. There are dents from bite marks of various creatures, and dirt lives under the fingernails of the Scamander boy.

Albus tries to push the blush down and nods quietly, following along. He passes the room where Lysander is talking wildly to his younger sister. They seem more engaged with each other. Fitting, considering Lysander is probably the more extroverted of the two.

Lorcan holds onto Albus’ wrist and reaches over the banister, causing a look from his mother. “Lorcan, what’re you doing?” She questions.

“Moving the mistletoe Mum,” he calls back. “Nargles. “ There’s a pause, and Luna nods, as if that were explanation enough. Albus just tags along, his wrist still being gripped by Lorcans. “If you move the infected mistletoe away from the general public, you’re less likely to get infected. Nargles are drawn to large crowds. Makes it easier to nest. They don’t like the cold weather, so mistletoe should be placed in outdoor locations.”

Albus doesn’t disagree, having never seen a nargle. He presses his lips together and looks at the boy. “I don’t have my outdoor gear.”

Lorcan purses his lips, removing his hand from Albus’ wrist. “Here,” he decides, as they pass a coat closet. He plucks off a tweed coat from the hook along with a yellow and black scarf. He grins. “I always thought you’d be a good Hufflepuff. Even as a kid,” he compliments. “You’re much sweeter than you give yourself credit for,” he mumbles, but then realizes what he’s holding. Lorcan shakes his head, bouncy hair flying around his face.

Albus blushes. He knew the hat’s second choice was Hufflepuff. His Gran had desperately been on the team Hufflepuff as well. Albus remembers getting a knitted scarf in the first week from his Gran, the colours yellow and black. The sight of the scarf made his heart ache, and he started crying again over his sorting. He only stopped when eleven year old Scorpius Malfoy taught him a charm to fix it.

“Lets get this outside,” he says, and then wraps his hand around Albus’ wrist once again. He pushes his way through the crowd and out the door. He still has no shoes on, his feet bare on the icy snow. He’s only wearing his niffler shirt and a pair of jeans. “Hold my ankles Albie,” Lorcan instructs, shaking the plant then standing on the railing of the porch to hang it on the lamp.

He jumps down and turns to the brunette boy. “There’s one other thing we have to do,” he tells Albus with a soft look in his eyes. He grabs the boy’s wrists in both his hands. Gazing into the green eyes, Lorcan smiles softly.

Albus has always been different. He’s always been kind, even in the days where he wasn’t so kind. Lorcan could tell that Albus was a good kid, even when he didn’t act like it. All his little quirks and frustrations never irritated him like they did his twin. Lorcan had no problem pausing, or slowing down so Albus could catch up. He never had any problem with Albus’ behavior quirks, and like Scorpius, he too, enjoyed Albus’ little mispronunciations and speech quirks.

“Lolly,” Albus breathes out quietly. His breath hangs in the air.

Lorcan gives off a smile at the nickname. Albus had been calling him that since they were children. Albus had a habit of shortening names, whether they be needed or not. He cups the boy’s cheek and presses his lips to the other.

Albus pulls apart, and Lorcan nods his head. “Right,” he whispers. “We successfully got rid of the nargles. There’s none left.”

Albus’ face is pink from the chill. He rubs his hands up and down his body to give more warmth back. He doesn’t get how Lorcan can be sitting outside in just a t-shirt, not at this temperature. “I-I think there’s one more left,” Albus whispers. He lets the cold hang in the air again, his breath lingering.

Lorcan smirks and kisses Albus again.

#shipmas 2018 #scorbus #lorcan x albus #albus severus potter #lorcan scamander #luna lovegood #lysander scamander #james sirius potter #lily luna potter #ginny weasley #harry potter #Scorpius Malfoy #Museum Art #ccsquad

[dcnativegal]

Written on August 15th

It’s my birthday

And I’ll cry if I want to.

Actually, I cried last night, at the scene in the movie Lion in which the lost boy, now 25 years old, finds his mother again in a slum in India and they cry and embrace and paw each other. AND, it’s a true story. I haven’t cried like that in a long while. I wonder if my anti depressant keeps me from just bawling at every little thing, as I used to do pre-SSRI. In any case, this young man’s yearning for home, for Mom, is something we can all relate to, and especially those of us who were insufficiently mothered.

And for me, she who has moved so very frequently. Exactly 10 times before college. And since separating from my kids’ father, I’ve moved 5 times in DC and then one BIG move to Oregon. That’s a lot of homes. (Just for kicks, how many moves between College and Divorce? Six? Seriously? Wow. A rolling stone gathers no moss, and this rolling gal gathers only yarn. And a big trunk full of journals.)

My home is here now, wherever Valerie is, in Valville, Val’s world, centered around this loft home that is too adorable and perfect for words. I’ve hitched my wagon to her star. I’ve attached to her like a barnacle. With long tentacles, because she is often many hours’ drive away. Today she is in Salem, and told me this morning that the drywall hanging is now at the spackling stage. I will drive there on Saturday after my 3-day job gig and join the throngs who are coming to the line of equinox totality like ants to a line of spilt sugar. We’ll put on our dollar ninety-nine sun gazing eyeglasses and experience that weird feeling when the world goes dark for 2 minutes. I’ve never seen a complete equinox. I’ll be with Valerie’s sister and niece and maybe other family. The anniversary of my settling in Oregon.

The state of Oregon is freaked out about the traffic. I’ve survived DC traffic for most of 57 years: the Pope’s visit, the Obama inauguration, major snow storms, Hurricanes Isabelle and Agnes. DC has the sense to close the federal government during times like these. No such focused industry here. I’m wondering if I-5 and all the smaller state highways will be a mess, or just more congested than folks are used to out here. Valerie says, crazy as DC traffic is, folks know how to drive (except the tourists, poor things. All those circles and one-way streets.)  She says the rural folk really don’t, since they’re looking for deer and cows on the road, not hundreds of thousands of cars. We’ll see.

Today I am getting a massage from a kind and creative woman who has become my friend: Toni. She is married to an equally kind and creative man who is a kind of Eeyore. But still kind, even when he hates all the humans in the world, except whomever he is with.

After that, I’ll be getting ready to drive to Bend. I’m bringing a young client to a Queer Youth Group. I got permission and everything. So few positive gay role models in Lake County. This person wants to meet other ‘gender outlaws.’ Seems an excellent way to spend the day. I’m going to pack music CDs, (I know how quaint,) so she’ll be exposed to, say, Crosby Stills and Nash, Stevie Wonder, ancient Bonnie Raitt, Joni Mitchell, Joan Armatrading. My stuff.

I’ve been mostly alone the past few days, and when I’m by myself, those quiet voices that tell me I’m a fuck up get a little bit louder. After eons of therapy. They just do. As one of many antidotes, I talked to my therapist by appointment (which means I will send her a check), for 50 minutes yesterday. She is like my north star. She sets me back on the path of service and self-respect instead of wallowing self-pity. (As Anne Lamott put it so well, I am the turd around which the world revolves.) I also talked to my babies who are 21 and 23, in Guatemala and Manhattan respectively. Arranged for my massage. Bugged Valerie numerous times. She tells me in detail how she is arranging the dry wall, and I couldn’t give a toss as the brits say, but I love hearing her competence and pride in doing the job right, and her voice. She could read me the phone book and I’d be comforted. (My masseuse is 70, and so is my lover. My therapist back in Maryland is 70. All hail 70 year old women.)

I moved out here to be with her, knowing that we will not marry; it is not for us, partly due to finances (she loses a retirement check from one of her many husbands. Oh and I’m in debt.)  And partly because getting married doesn’t seem right for us. I’d thought at one point in our 7 years together that I’d want the reassurance of marriage before I’d pull up stakes in my home town and plant myself in the desert. Instead, I chose this move, knowing that I have to be self sufficient and plugged in here all on my own in order to be happy and healthy. That would be true whether or not we were legally wed, and is truer as partners with no legal obligation or rights. ( I do plan to be at her side, if she’ll have me, until we are parted by death, as the Book of Common Prayer puts it. If she kicks me to the curb, you may find me in a converted school bus with my yarn as insulation, a wood burning stove, and my cat. In Christmas Valley. It’s cheaper up there.)

Valerie loves her freedom to travel and help her family and the beloved rancher family she sometimes works for. At 70 she can do what she wants. She has so much fun, and carries that joy around with her. I get big splashes of it and I am brightened and nourished and centered by this joy. She is a female Baxter Black. She has the politics of Mollie Ivins. She can write beautiful stories, and tell them, too. Valerie is pretty special. And I get to live in her house and spend hours and days with her, here and there. She shows her love in lots of ways and I am reassured that she loves me in those love languages.

It was worth the move. Happy birthday to me.