#like completely minimizing the stress the rest of us are under. what are we supposed to do not have events 😂😂😂😂😂😂 like fuck you

[pepprs]

in a meeting rn and the ppl leading it are being so fucking nasty and underhanded like stfu

#purrs #like completely minimizing the stress the rest of us are under. what are we supposed to do not have events 😂😂😂😂😂😂 like fuck you #don’t take your lack of resources out on us. it’s not our fault that there’s not enough space on campus we’re just doing our fucking jobs #which are to hold events lol. like just so unnecessarily nasty #we should be working together to advocate for more resources not shaming people for putting on programs AND TRYING TO FIND SOLUTIONS!!!! #like that’s what’s crazy ppl are offering to hold stuff in their own offices how does that impact you at all 💀💀💀💀 isn’t that solving things #to have ppl host stuff in their own spaces instead of shared space. just fucking stupid to say that then everyone is gonna do it like isn’t #that what you want. ughhhhhh punching the screen rn #💀 this one person just said something hat fully implies he thinks there are too many departments like. fuck you. im not going anywhere. we’r #not goi ng anywhere. we are not duplicative. we deserve to take up space. im so mad rn like

[corroded-hellfire]

Okay. I absolute love ASW serie. And i have a request about the boy’s holiday concert and knowing what Eddie thinking when she arrived. 🥰

I love see you in my notifications. You’re the best 🫶

Ooh I’ve been so excited for this one! Been chomping at the bit for it to be Christmas time so @munson-blurbs and I could write it lol. Eddie’s mentioned before how pivotal of a moment this was in regards to how he feels about reader, so I’m very glad and thankful you requested this. I hope you enjoy ❤️

Words: 4.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

4:56. In four minutes, Eddie is supposed to take Ryan to school. The concert doesn’t start until 6, but kids have to be there early to warm up. He’s not quite sure how much a vocal warm-up will help second graders harmonize, but he’s not about to be the parent whose kid shows up late. 

His wife apparently does not share that same concern. 

4:57. 

Brittany was supposed to be home to watch Luke; Eddie knows better than to drag him along any earlier than he has to. Ryan is nervous enough about his solo, and he certainly doesn’t need his little brother incessantly asking questions that will only fuel his anxiety. 

4:58. 

“Daddy?” Ryan comes down the hall with you following close behind. “Can you tie my tie?”

Eddie nods, tongue poking from between his lips as he kneels down and fixes his son’s tie. It’s still a bit crooked—there are minimal opportunities for him to wear one as a mechanic, and even fewer now that he and Brittany rarely go on dates—but it will have to suffice. 

Tears gather in your eyes as you look at Ryan’s outfit, the red tie completing his white button-down, black slacks, and shiny shoes. “You’re so grown up!”

4:59. 

You catch Eddie glancing worriedly at the clock. He’s changed out of his coveralls and wears a maroon button-down shirt, cuffed at the elbows, and pants that match Ryan’s. He’s absolutely delicious; the thought of being the one to unbutton him has sweat prickling under your arms. 

“Ry, why don’t you go and get your brother?” Eddie says as gently as he can. Vaguely aware of the tension growing within his father, Ryan nods and heads off to do as he’s told.

As soon as the boy is out of earshot, Eddie mumbles, “shit” under his breath, and rubs his hand across his forehead. 

“He has to be there by—” you start to ask but are cut off by Eddie’s exasperated sigh.

“Yes, we need to leave. Now.” Eddie takes a deep breath and his eyes trail over to you. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” you assure him with a shake of your head. “I completely get it. Brittany’s late, you need to get going, it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, Brittany’s late,” he murmurs more to himself before addressing you. “There’s no reason for me to take anything out on you, you’ve been nothing but wonderful.” His words send a pleasant tingle down your spine. As he takes a step closer, you look up at him beneath your eyelashes. “I’m sorry I snapped, sweetheart.”

“Really, Eddie, it’s okay.” Your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, trying to emphasize your point. All it does though is leave both of you on pins and needles at the touch. “Why don’t you go ahead and take Ryan?” you offer, reluctantly bringing your hand down. “I’ll bring Luke by for the start of the show. This way you don’t have to try to wrangle the little monkey while you’re getting Ryan where he needs to be.”

Eddie’s brow furrows together and he eyes you warily. “A-Are you sure? Because I don’t have a problem taking on both of them. I’ll use a spare tie as a leash for Luke if I have to.”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image that conjures. Luke would manage to get a foot or so away and Eddie would reel him back in like a catfish. 

“I don’t mind. Really. Cross my heart and all.”

Eddie takes another moment to consider it and concedes as he nods his head. “That would be really helpful. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you say with a dismissive wave. “I enjoy the talks Luke and I have when we hang out. I always end up learning something new.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees with a breathy chuckle. “Has he told you that one milliliter of ocean water can contain about 10 million viruses? I got that one at dinner the other night.”

“He has,” you say with a soft giggle. “And yet, he still says going to the beach is what he always wishes for when he throws a coin in the fountain at the mall.”

“Are we going?” Luke’s booming voice precedes both boys as they come into the room. The younger Munson brother looks more annoyed than anything. He probably knows he’ll have to stand around and do nothing before he is forced to sit in an uncomfortable seat and made to listen to his schoolmates unwittingly butcher Christmas Carols. 

“Nope, you’re coming with me,” you tell Luke, poking him on the top of his head as he walks by. “Daddy’s taking Ryan to school now and I’m gonna take you for the show.”

“Oh, good,” Luke says with a sigh of relief. Even Ryan looks a bit relieved; he knows it’s hard to corral his little brother. 

Eddie’s also noticeably calmer as he prepares himself to leave the house. He pats his pockets, and the jingling of keys lets him know he’s got them. Another pat to his back pocket confirms he’s got his wallet as well.

“All right,” he says, looking to Ryan. “You got everything? We ready to go?”

“Uh, I think so,” Ryan says. He looks down at the secured tie around his neck and can’t come up with anything else he might need. 

“Then let’s hit the road. We’ll see you guys later,” Eddie says, nodding at you and Luke.

“Bye, Daddy! Remember, don’t drive on black ice!”

Luke’s warning makes you giggle to yourself as you wave Eddie and Ryan out the door. Once the sound of Eddie’s truck has faded out of the driveway and down the road, Luke turns to you and places his hands on his little hips.

“What’re we gonna do?” he asks. 

“Hmm.” You pretend to ponder over his question as you walk to the other side of the room and pick up your purse. “What about, we go up and get your nice clothes for the concert and put them in your Scooby Doo backpack.”

“Why?” Luke asks, wrinkling up his nose. The small boy has a lot of adorable quirks, but you’re pretty sure that one’s your favorite.

“Well, I was thinking,” you say with a shrug. “Nothing goes better with a Christmas concert than some cookies and hot cocoa. I thought you and I could go grab some at the cafe near my apartment. And I know you, you’ll end up wearing half the snack, so it’s better we don’t get you into those nicer clothes until you have to.”

Luke’s big blue eyes light up at the idea of the sugary confections. His head nods so quickly that, with his small shoulders, he looks like a Munson Bobblehead. 

“Good idea!” he calls behind him as he races towards his room, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I’m okay!”

The auditorium buzzes with excitement as you and Luke make your way down the aisle. Eddie sits in the front row, easily spotted by the mess of curls tucked into a low ponytail. His brown eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees you. 

“Oh, wow—I mean, you made it!” Eddie can’t help but gaze at the way your green velvet dress hugs you in all the right places. It’s flattering without even teetering on inappropriate for an elementary school concert. He recovers awkwardly but quickly, reflexively pulling at his collar to give himself more room to breathe. “Here, um, you guys take a seat…”

Luke bounds over to his dad, plopping into the chair between the two of you. Better off, Eddie thinks wryly, before I do something I really shouldn’t. He glances over at the handmade Naughty and Nice list propped up on the stage; if anyone could read his thoughts right now, he knows exactly where his name would be written. 

“Daddy, I had hot cocoa and cookies! And the cookies had chocolate chunks in them. Not chips—chunks,” Luke clarifies, underscoring the importance of differentiating between the two. 

You shrug guiltily. “Sorry, I needed a way to get him out of the house on time,” you explain. 

Eddie laughs, ruffling Luke’s hair before turning to you. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to negotiate with terrorists?” But above Luke’s line of vision, he mouths thank you, the inaudible movement of his lips sending sparks to your lower belly. 

Someone slides into the seat next to Eddie; you expect him to say that it’s taken, but he barely notices. Neither does Luke, and that’s what breaks your heart. Both he and Ryan are so accustomed to their mom missing important events that they no longer bat an eye. 

The lights in the auditorium dim and the audience breaks into polite applause as the spotlights click on and teachers usher their small students to where they’re supposed to stand. You have no doubt this is part of what they practiced with the children being here so early, but there’s a handful of kids who still don’t seem to have a clue of what they’re doing. 

Ryan is easy to pick out of the crowd. He’s one of the taller boys in his class so he stands up on the back rafter, a spotlight hitting his hair just so to make it look like a honey brown waterfall. Quickly, he catches sight of you as well and waves to you, his father, and brother as the rest of the kids are reaching their intended destinations on stage. Both you and Eddie acknowledge Ryan with small waves, but Luke whips his arm up in the air and waves it back and forth like he’s trying to signal a helicopter where to land. 

Feedback crackles over the microphone on center stage as a teacher steps up to it. She clears her throat and shields her bespectacled eyes from the bright lights aimed her way. She taps once, twice on the microphone before she leans in to speak, short blonde curls falling in her face.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening for Hawkins Elementary School’s Festive Fun Holiday Concert.” There’s a small smattering of applause before she continues. “I am Mrs. Pierce. My class, along with the classes of Mrs. Lopez and Mr. Abrams, have been practicing very hard to bring you all a Christmas treat this evening.”

Luke has already tuned out the talking, his head on a swivel to take in all aspects of the small auditorium. He looks from the speakers to the light fixtures adorned with green garland, back to the kids on stage, then down the rows of the audience to see who all is there. You gently take his littler hand in yours and give it a soft squeeze. Just to ground him back in this moment from wherever his mind wandered off to. He smiles when you shoot him a wink and, now that the teachers are done talking, finds it easier to zone back into the show. 

Tinny music begins to play over the speakers stationed around the space and it takes you a moment to place the song as Let it Snow. The initial singing by the children is jarring, but not nearly as off-key as you were expecting. Some of the songs are a bit rough, but some are surprisingly pleasant as well. 

As the music transitions to the next song, you see Ryan take a step down from his rafter and make his way towards the front of the stage. He goes to one of the two microphones low enough for the children to access and waits. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer starts with all the children, but by the look of how nervous Ryan is, you’d wager that he has a solo coming up. His small fingers twist against one another as he does his best not to look out into the crowd. Though he’s naturally a shy boy, you can tell there’s some stage fright in there as well. It’s evident that his part is fast approaching when you see his little chest swell with breath, then release it slowly. Grinning from ear to ear, you watch as Ryan takes half a step closer to the microphone and opens his mouth.

“Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say,

‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?’”

A look of relief washes over Ryan’s face, but you can also see a bit of pride in the way that he smiles. And he should be proud! His small solo was excellent, and you can’t wait to dote on him over it later. 

You glance over at Eddie; his grin stretches across his face so widely that you wouldn’t be shocked if his cheeks hurt. He catches you looking and turns his head slightly, one eye winking as if to say, thanks for being here for my kid. Thanks for being here with me. 

And maybe it’s the way you giggle, or the way you make sure Luke is comfortable before easing back into your seat, or the way you cheer for Ryan like you’re at a stadium concert, but something shifts within Eddie. He’s always found you beautiful; tonight, you were downright stunning in that dress. It was the oldest cliché in the book: dad crushing on the hot, young babysitter. That’s how he’d managed to brush it off all this time. He was a man with needs, you were an attractive woman. Simple biology. 

What he’s feeling now is anything but straightforward. He doesn’t just want to sleep with you; no, he wants you by his side at every school function, every birthday party, every moment of his life, big or small. And not as the babysitter; as his girl. 

No, this is not a crush, and it’s not a cliché. It’s love. 

After the concert, both you and Eddie are excited to greet Ryan and gush over how well he did. The unspoken fear that you both have though, is that the seven-year-old will be heartbroken when he finds out that his mother didn’t attend the performance. While Luke fidgets where you wait outside of the auditorium for his brother, you and Eddie trade nervous glances as the kids start coming out.

“Where is he?” Luke bemoans after the third student comes out and it isn’t the one he wants. 

Ryan comes barreling out of the red double doors, laughing with a group of his friends. The moment he spots you and his family, he waves goodbye to the other kids and dashes over to you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Eddie holding his breath, waiting on pins and needles to hear what the first thing out of his oldest son’s mouth will be.

“I did it!” Ryan cheers.

Eddie sags in relief and even you feel unburdened of a weight you weren’t aware you were holding. The smile on Ryan’s face is pure glee and he’s practically jumping up and down on the spot.

“I’m so proud of you!” Eddie tells him, throwing one arm around the boy’s shoulders and ruffling his hair with the other. “You were the best one up there.”

Ryan’s cheeks turn pink at his father’s praise. Of course, you just pile on top of it, relishing in the way he gets embarrassed and overjoyed at the same time. 

“My little George Michael!” you say as you pull Ryan in for a hug. His nose wrinkles up at your comparison but the smile on his face only grows.

Luke looks up at his big brother. “Y’know, I always thought it was froggy Christmas Eve.”

Despite his better judgment, Eddie asks, “bud…why would Christmas Eve be froggy?”

“I dunno,” Luke shrugs, “maybe Santa was delivering a lot of frogs. Or the reindeer got tired, so he had frogs pull his sleigh. Or—”

Eddie puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and laughs. “All right, Frog Boy. What do you say we get home and celebrate Ryan’s rockstar moment?”

Everyone agrees to that, the four of you walking through the double doors and into the parking lot. Ryan takes Eddie’s hand, and Luke takes yours. 

“Where’d you park?” Eddie asks you, and you realize he wants to escort you to your car. Heat creeps up your neck at his small act of chivalry. Part of you suspects that if you shivered, he’d offer his jacket. 

Maybe if you were more courageous, you’d test that theory. 

“Oh, um, over there.” You point towards your car, leading the way. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you; protectiveness with a hint of possession. It’s lust with something you can’t quite put your finger on. 

You dig your keys out of your bag, smiling triumphantly when you find them quickly. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow?” You laugh kindly, ruffling Ryan’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, Ry. You’re brave and talented.”

A blush settles into Ryan’s cheeks. “Thanks. Um, I’m glad you got to hear me sing. You’re the best.”

“Me, too,” Eddie chimes in, clearing his throat. “I mean, I’m glad you got to hear him sing, too. Not that I think you’re the best. Not that you’re not the best, because the kids love you, and you, um—”

“Hey, look what I found!” 

Eddie has never been more grateful for one of Luke’s interruptions. “What is it?”

“Mistletoe!” The little boy holds something that is certainly not mistletoe above his head. “See?”

Ryan scoffs. “That’s a leaf.”

“And a very dead one at that,” Eddie muses, plucking the stem from Luke’s fingers. 

A pout puckers Luke’s lips. “You gotta use your imagination!” he insists, taking the pseudo-mistletoe and jumping up and down between you and Eddie. “Now…you…gotta…kiss!”

“No, we don’t,” you and Eddie blurt out in unison. 

“Yes, you do,” Luke indignantly sighs. “It’s the law.”

Before he can wimp out, Eddie swoops in and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. Your skin tingles where his lips brushed against it, and you’re left speechless. 

Luke, however, remains unimpressed. “That wasn’t a real kiss!”

“Yeah, well, that’s not real mistletoe,” Eddie retorts, trying to compose himself. “C’mon, let’s get home. It’s past your bedtime.”

Eddie was hoping that the ride home would help lull the boys to sleep like it used to when they were babies. Ryan still has adrenaline going through him from the concert though, and Luke is feeding off of that energy.

They’re both talking a mile a minute and neither one of them quiet, but Eddie doesn’t hear a word they say because his mind is so focused on you. You offering to bring Luke to the school later when he had to bring Ryan. You in that curve-hugging dress. You showing up for Ryan when his own mother didn’t. You, with the softest skin when his lips brushed your cheek. 

Realizing that he’s in love with you should make Eddie feel worse than it does. The guilt that’s gnawing at his stomach is somewhat abated by the fact that Brittany’s been screwing a litany of men for years. Does it make it worse or better that she probably had no feelings for any of those men? He’s not sure it’s possible for her to truly love anyone besides herself.

Eddie can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about his feelings for you, though. The way you make him happy is something that he hasn’t experienced in years—if Brittany ever truly made him this happy at all. Everything about you brings joy to Eddie. Well, other than when he thinks of how much younger you are and how you’re surrounded by college age guys who must be tripping over themselves to go out with you. That provides him with a sickening feeling that leaves him dizzy. It’s much easier to focus on the fantasy of being with you, not the reality of where or who you might be headed home to tonight. 

When Eddie pulls into the driveway, the boys are decidedly less quiet, though they’re still chatting away. Brittany’s car is parked there as well, sitting idly next to where Eddie’s truck now is. Eddie wordlessly gets out of the car and lets the boys keep talking about whatever it is they’re talking about as he walks with them up to the front door, the light dusting of snow floating down kissing their cheeks and noses. 

“It’s late, I want you boys to head to your rooms and put your pajamas on, okay?” Eddie says as he unlocks the door. Both boys agree—begrudgingly, on Luke’s part. 

Brittany isn’t in sight when they first step into the house, which has Eddie breathing a sigh of relief. He really shouldn’t be feeling that way about seeing his own wife, should he? Oh well, that ship sailed a long time ago.

The boys head down the hall and as Ryan passes the kitchen, he skids to a halt and does a double take. 

“Hi, Mom!” he says with an enthusiastic wave. Eddie’s prepared for his oldest to launch into the story of how great the concert was and how much fun he had, but he just continues down the hall towards his room. Luke didn’t even stop to greet his mother. 

Eddie drops his keys in the bowl by the door and shrugs out of his leather jacket. It’s slightly wet to the touch from the flurries that landed on him between the truck and the house.

If Brittany had just missed an event of his, Eddie wouldn’t give two shits or make a big deal of it. But this was Ryan’s big night, something that she should have wanted to and made sure to attend. Now Eddie feels the need to make a stink about it.

He wanders into the kitchen and slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. As soon as he steps inside, he sees Brittany leaning against the counter with a glass of water in her hand, absolutely glaring at him. The look takes him aback. Why in the hell is he getting that look? She’s the one who has to explain herself. 

“I can’t believe you,” Brittany says, further shocking her husband. 

“I…what?” Eddie asks. He almost feels too dumbfounded to speak. It quickly crosses his mind that maybe she somehow figured out the epiphany he had about his feelings for you tonight, but if Brittany could read minds things would have gone downhill a lot sooner in their marriage than this. 

“You left without me. You couldn’t even wait until I got home?” Brittany slams the glass of water down on the counter and takes a step towards him. 

Eddie quickly checks to make sure the boys haven’t stepped in behind him before he raises his eyebrows and lowers his voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I did wait, Britt. I waited until the last goddamn minute. But Ryan had to get to the school, and I wasn’t about to make him late just because you couldn’t be bothered to be home on time.”

The sneer Brittany gives him could curdle milk. 

“So now my son is going to think that I don’t care because I didn’t go tonight,” she seethes.

Eddie toys with the idea of telling her that he didn’t seem to care one iota that she wasn’t there, but he doesn’t want Ryan to catch even a smidgen of her wrath. 

“You have a car. You know where the damn school is. Why didn’t you get your ass over there when you got home?”

“That isn’t the point!” she snaps. Eddie now knows that this argument has moved from rational and logic, to whatever bullshit straws Brittany can grasp at. 

“Okay,” Eddie says, knowing full well he’s already fighting a losing battle. “What is the point?” He crosses his arms over his chest and Brittany mirrors the action, as if annoyed she didn’t think of taking up the offended posture first. 

“That you didn’t wait for me. Your wife. I had to come home probably five minutes after you left!”

“And I told you why we left when we did. I also provided you with what you could have alternatively done, but that would mean admitting that you’re wrong and God forbid you do that.” Brittany opens her mouth, but Eddie shakes his head and cuts her off before she can say anything. “Fucking forget it. It’s late, I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

Eddie goes to turn down the hallway towards the master bedroom when he realizes he never took off his boots. He stalks back to the front door and kicks them off, using the wall for balance. When his eyes flit back up from his feet, they catch sight of his jacket—and Brittany’s next to it. He narrows his eyes as he looks at them side by side. His is still wet from the melted snow coating it, but Brittany’s is wet as well. It’s not just the side where his jacket is brushing up against it, either. Eddie reaches for the arm of the jacket on the opposite side and feels that it’s just as wet as his own. If Brittany had really come home just after they’d left, there’s no way it would still be wet.

Dropping the jacket sleeve and letting out a huff of unamused laughter, Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Brittany is no stranger to lying. She probably got home about five minutes before they did, but in typical Brittany fashion, had to spin everything so she’s the victim even when she’s the one in the wrong. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbles to himself. He rubs at his eyes as he walks back down the hallway. He’s way too tired to deal with any of this bullshit. 

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. I’ll just get ready for bed and then I can lay down and think about the woman who actually shows up for me and my boys—and try to imagine she doesn’t do it purely out of the goodness of her heart, and that she enjoys spending time with me as much as I do her.

He can hear Brittany talking on the kitchen phone, prattling on to her friend about how her awful husband cruelly abandoned her at their son’s holiday concert. Looking over at the empty half of the bed, he pictures you sleeping there. His arms would wrap around you as you whisper about how proud you are of Ryan or relay a funny tidbit from Luke. Eddie would kiss your forehead as you drift off to sleep, reveling in your beauty even as you slumber.  His own eyelids soon grow heavy with the day’s physical and emotional exhaustion. Before he falls asleep, he manages to eke out a wish to dream of you tonight. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #dad!eddie

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Away Game - Emily Sonnett x Hockey!Reader

Prompt: Can you do an imagine where the Y/N is with Emily Sonnett and Y/N play hockey as well and she is still in college l. Like where Emily surprise Y/N at one of her games because she could tell that Y/N is super stressed out and just a bunch of fluff and cuteness? But also a little bit of feeling as well?

“Hey babe,” Emily greeted Y/N as she connected the FaceTime call before going back to reading her textbook.

Y/N was hunched over her desk in her apartment, textbook propped up next to laptop. Emily’s face sharing half the screen while Y/N typed notes out at the same time.

“Hey Em,” Y/N mumbled out, glancing up to shoot a quick smile to her girlfriend before going back to reading her textbook.

“Y/N, take a break for a couple minutes, then you can go back to studying,” Sonnett tried to encourage. She could see the bags under girlfriend’s eyes and the coffee cup next to her.

“I can talk and study,” Y/N glanced back to the screen, beginning to type, not even looking to Emilys side of the screen.

“I know you can Y/N, but I wanted to talk to you for a second, then we can just hangout on screen together while you study,” Emily tried to suggest again.

Y/N continued to type, periodically glancing at her textbook, not even acknowledging that Sonnett had said anything.

“Y/N,” Emily attempted again with no response. “Y/N!” She finally raised her voice, frustration evident.

Y/N’s head shot up, looking at Emily.

“What? I really need to study; I don’t have time right now,” Y/N snapped back.

“Don’t have time or won’t make time?” Emily snapped as well this time.

“You know I don’t have time Emily,” Y/N growled, the use of her full name showing how frustrated she was. They hadn’t been on the call for two minutes and were snapping at each other. Y/N knew it was her fault, that she could make time and her snapping was perpetuated by the stress of midterms and what felt like a thousand other things.

“I get you’re stressed, but don’t take it out on me,” Emily did her best to soften her tone, understanding the anger was misdirected to her.

Y/N immediately deflated, crossing her on the desk and resting her forehead on them. Letting a sigh, she looked back to the screen.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Em, I’ve just got so much going on right now,” Y/N shoulders were hunched in. Now facing the computer, Emily could see the exhaustion clearly, the way her brow furrowed when she had a headache. All fight had left the younger woman.

“I understand babe, just take a minute and breath, alright?” Emily tried to sooth the student. “What’s all going on that’s got you like this?”

Y/N groaned, dropping head  to the desk against.

“What don’t I have? I have two midterms to write on Thursday before we leave for our away game, an essay due Monday, a lab I need to write up on the bus, plus practice and weights, and I should probably sleep at some point. But I can’t because I still need to study,” Y/N rambled. “Fuck.” She groaned, slammed her forehead on the desk, her hands roughly tugging her hair.

“Babe,” Emily tried to get her her attention, YN’s head remained down. “Y/N/N.”

Y/N rolled her head over, looking at the screen, keeping her head down.

“Hey hot shot, I know you have lots going on. Couple more weeks and the semester is done, then you get a break,” Emily encouraged, she wanted to reach through the screen and tuck the stray hair behind Y/N’s ear. She wanted to pull her stressed girlfriend into her arms, massage the tension out of her shoulders, sooth the crease out of her furrowed brow.

Y/N sat up, running the back of her neck, attempting to work out the knots.

“I’m exhausted Em,” Y/N whispered, lowly like Emily wasn’t supposed to hear it. “We need to win this weekend, and I need to do do well on my midterms, and this essay is kicking my ass.” The hockey player continued to ramble, Emily just nodded along, understanding she just needed to be heard.

“I know babe, but you can do this. You are so smart, you are going to do so well on those midterms, and make that essay your bitch,” that earned a small smile from the younger woman. “Plus, I’ll hand deliver coffee to your hotel this weekend.”

“Hand deliver to my hotel?” Y/N looked confused.

“Yea, our camp is in the same city as your game this weekend. I was thinking I could drop some coffee off in the morning before your game. Maybe sneak a hug in there too,” Sonnett finished with a wink.

“Fuck Em, I totally forgot you are in camp right now,” Y/N sat up completely straight, regret on her face when she realized she forgot about Emily being in camp.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Sonnett said firmly, cutting Y/N off before she could ramble out an apology. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, you have more than enough going on right now. So do not feel bad for forgetting, alright?”

“But that’s something I should remember,” Y/N sounded frustrated, rubbing a palm harshly down her face. “You remembered my game; I should remember your games.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t. You have so much going on already, my camp should be the last thing you need to remember,” Emily watched as her girlfriend chewed her lower lip, contemplating what she said. “Now, I love you and want to keep talking to you, but you need to sleep.”

“I still have this chapter to finish at least before I can go to sleep,” Y/N motioned to the mess of books on her desk, “so I’m definitely not getting to bed anytime soon,” her hand made its way to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Alright smarty pants, why don’t I hang out for a little until you finish up. We don’t have to talk, we can be together, apart,” the defender suggested with a little giggle at her attempt at a pun.

Y/N just nodded and went back to studying. Typing and the turning of pages the only sounds for the next hour while to just enjoyed the minimal company they could have with each other. Emily finally needed to call it a night when Mal made her way into the room to go to bed.

“Hey hot shot,” Emily softly said, Y/N just grunted in response. “I’m heading to bed, try not to stay up too late.”

Y/N looked at the screen, giving Emily a tired smile.

“Night you goof, no promises though. Have a good sleep.”

Emily rolled her eyes, “goodnight babe.”

The two disconnected the call and Emily got up to start getting ready for bed.

For the rest of the week, Emily and Y/N had hardly had a chance to text, both women so busy. Emily still finding time to send her girlfriend reminders to eat and sleep enough, or just sending her funny memes though out the day to make her smile.

Y/N had spent the team bus trip to Chicago finishing her homework. By the time they arrived at the hotel, she was ready to crawl into her bed and sleep for a week it felt like. Unfortunately, all she could get was a quick nap before evening skate around and team meeting before the game the following day.

The hockey team all made their way through the lobby towards their rooms. Y/N had her headphones in from the bus still, making it clear to everyone she wasn’t in the mood to socialize with anyone, keeping her head down, watching the feet of her teammate to know where to go.

Suddenly Y/N felt a hand firmly push her to the left, she whipped her head to the right, looking for the culprit. Y/N saw a teammate grinning and motioning to her left where she had been pushed to.

Y/N looked to the left to see Emily standing there with a large smile on her face, bouncing on the balls of her feet, doing her best not to pounce on the hockey player.

“Looks like you have a stalker, Y/N/N,” her teammates chuckled, Y/N’s sleep deprived brain slowly caught up with her. She dropped her bag and took the few steps to close the distance between her and her girlfriend, crashing her body in the smaller soccer player.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N mumbled into Sonnetts chest.

“Rumor has is some stud hockey player is staying here the next couple nights; I was hoping to get an autograph,” Emily said casually, lightly pulling away to jokingly glance around the hotel; Y/N tightened her grip on the defenders shirt, tugging her back in.

Emily leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the hockey players head.

“I’m kidding hot shot. I got a room here. I know neither of us can spend the night together, but I figured it would be perfect a nap before your practice, maybe one tomorrow before your game.”

“You rented us a room just to nap?” Y/N looked up incredulously.

“I mean, we could do other things than nap,” Emily said suggestively with a waggle of her eyebrows. “But why don’t we start with taking your bags to your actual room, then go from there.”

Emily stepped away, picking up the discarded bags and making her way to the elevator. Leaving no room for argument that she would be carrying them. Y/N just followed behind, amazed at the consideration her girlfriend had for her.

The two quickly dropped her stuff in the room, before making their way to the room Emily rented a couple floors up.

Y/N had Emily pinned against the wall of the room before the door even closed. Gripping the back of her neck, hand pulling up her shirt. Emily pushed back, taking her own shirt off before reaching for Y/N’s. Both now shirtless, they battled to press the other into the wall. Y/N being stronger, gripped Emily’s hips and guided her to bed, pushing her to sit. Emily immediately slid up the bed, Y/N following with her knees on either side of Emilys hips.

They continued to make out, hips rolling into each other, hands roaming exposed skin. Emily suddenly pulled Y/N flush against, then rolled them so she was on top. She glided her lips down Y/N’s neck and across her collar bones, slowly making her way down when Y/n let out a loud yawn.

Emily paused, glancing up to make eye contact with the younger woman, giggling.

“I know it’s been a while and I might be a little rusty, but I can’t be that bad.”

“I’m sorry Em, you’re amazing,” Y/N started, only to be cut off by another yawn. It seemed now that she was in a bed her body was done fighting the exhaustion she felt, her eyes already beginning to droop.

Emily made her way back up, running her thumb along Y/N’s cheek, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips. “Get some sleep babe, I’ll make sure you’re up for practice.”

The soccer player rolled onto her back, pulling Y/N to lay on her chest. The younger woman gave a small nod, already drifting to sleep while she nuzzled her face into Emily’s neck.

Several hours and a refreshing nap later, both athletes made their way to the lobby. They exchanged a quick kiss goodbye before parting, each to their respective practices. Emily promising to be around the next morning with coffee before the team would depart for the rink.

Sitting on the bus, Y/N leaned her had back, feeling better than she had in months. The three hour nap with her girlfriend doing wonders, it had quieted all her anxieties and stresses.

Emily made her way to the hotel the next morning again, coffee in hand as the team left the banquet room after practice. Y/N walked over quickly, ignoring the snickers and joked coming from her teammates, eyes only on the blonde in front of her.

“Hey gorgeous,” Y/N greeted with a kiss. “I only have a minute before I need to get my stuff and be on the bus.”

“Hmm, that’s alright,” Emily hummed with a smile, “I just wanted to see you before the game, maybe get that stud hockey player to sign my shirt.” She winked, motioning to the shirt she was wearing. Y/N rolled her eyes realizing it was her own team shirt. 

Y/N laughed when Emily took the coffee back and replaced it with a sharpie.

“Who should I make it out to?” Y/N played along.

“Oh easy, ‘Emily Sonnett, the most amazing girlfriend’!” the blonde enunciated each word with her hands, like she was spelling them out in the air.

Y/N just shook her head, stepping close to her girlfriend before neatly signing her name on the shirt. Right on her chest, just over her heart.

“There you go you goof, now give me my coffee.”

The two made the exchange, both leaning in for a brief kiss before Y/N rushed off to the get her equipment for the game.

After a quick steal by Y/N and a fast break down the ice, leading to an early goal, loud cheers for the away team scoring drew the attention of the entire team. Y/N glanced up from the ice to see a majority of Emily’s teammates in the stands cheering the team on.

Y/N played the rest of the game with a new focus, she always wanted to win, but there was something different about playing in front of her girlfriend, a strong desire to show off and impress her.

Emily and the few players that knew Y/N personally met her outside the change rooms after the game. Each taking turns to pull her into a celebratory hug after the victory, all talking over each other about what part they liked the most. Mal and Rose pretending to recreate a body check against the boards.

Y/N had pulled Sonnett into her side while they all talked, both only half listening, just enjoying being with each other again.

“Feel better?” Emily asked when her friends were distracted. She could feel how much softer her girlfriend felt now that most of the tension left her body.

“A million times better,” Y/N leaned down and caught Emily’s lips in a kiss.

“Glad to hear it hot shot,” Sonnett whispered when they pulled away, both oblivious to their friends gagging at the cheesy interaction.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Greed - Angelic Demons (2/2)

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 2596

Content warnings - angst, lots of comfort

Prompt/Inspiration - Angelic Demons Event

Summary - Following the events in the “Angelic Demons” event where all the brothers are turned into angels and forced to wear magical bangles that correct their behavior.

You go to check on Mammon to see how he is doing now that he’s reverted back to his demonic self and no longer under the effects of the angelic magic.

AO3 | Part One - Envy

It had been a few days now since the magic from the cursed (because that’s what they were to you) bangles had worn off. Diavolo had also finally removed the outfits so everyone was more or less back to normal. At least, that’s how it appeared at first glance. In reality, Satan was probably the only one you saw much of as everyone else had made themselves scarce, recovering from the stress of being forced to remember their time as angels.

Two demons in particular seemed to have gone even more silent than the rest and you were starting to grow concerned so you had decided to check on them.

“GO AWAY!”

You blinked a few times, processing Mammon’s response to you knocking on his door. You hadn’t expected him to sound so angry. But given the circumstances, you understood why he would be. He may not have been angry with you - but since he was hiding out in his room, yelling at you was probably the only outlet he had.

“Mammon, I need to talk to you. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

There was no response from Mammon, so you tried the door knob. Much to your surprise it was unlocked, so you let yourself inside. And the sight that greeted you took your breath away.

Now, Mammon’s room had always been sort of a mess. He was impulsive, and easily distracted, so things often got left right where he set them when he went off to do something else. He still managed to maintain a minimal level of cleanliness though. You could always see the floor. There had always been seats on his sofa. The top of his pool table would be visible.

But going into his room now? It looked like something off that TV show Hoarders you used to watch in the human realm. And it wasn’t just things on his floor either (though make no mistake, there were a lot of those). There was trash too - empty noodle cups, soda cans, wine bottles, shipping boxes. You couldn’t understand how someone could acquire so much garbage in so little time.

“Mammon, what the hell happened in here?” your eyes scanned the room, taking in as much as you could of what was before you, “Mammon?” You called out to him again when he didn’t respond. You would have thought he’d have been trying to chase you out, but it seemed that now that you were here and he was instead going to attempt to hide and hope you just went away.

As you looked around for Mammon, you heard the sound of a plastic noodle cup fall to the floor. You turned in the direction of the noise, and there was Mammon, sitting in his bed, bundled up under his blankets, looking intently at his DDD.

“Hey,” you said as you walked towards him, clearing off a space on the bed next to him.

He didn’t acknowledge you, and just kept scrolling through some app on his DDD. You scooted a bit closer to him, so that you were almost touching and your back was against the wall, before leaning over and taking a look at his screen. He was on Akuzon.

Now everything made sense to you. He must have been buying things online and having them delivered straight to his room. Since everyone else had been distracted with their own things, no one had noticed the influx of deliveries. And it had all happened so quickly, you doubt Lucifer had even received the bill yet.

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping.”

“Looking for something in particular?”

“Nope.”

You knew that shopping was a bit of a therapeutic thing for Mammon, just like gambling could be. That rush of finding something new, of feeling like you won. But this was excessive, even for him. Usually he’d have some sort of goal in mind - new clothes maybe, a new video game he wanted to try, or something nice for you. You hadn’t seen him just mindlessly buying things before. He hardly looked like he was even paying attention to what exactly he was putting in his cart.

“How have you been feeling?”

“Great.”

“Oh...that’s good. I’ve been worried about you.”

Mammon scoffed. Worried about him? Why would anyone be worried about him? He was the scummy second born, after all. And surely after this past week you knew exactly how scummy he was since you were able to see what he could be like if he wasn’t. So what was the point in even trying anymore? He was a demon wasn’t he? Shouldn’t he just indulge his sin? It’s not like it mattered. It’s not like it would change anything.

That’s what he thought, at least. Or rather, tried to convince himself of. But with each purchase he made and each delivery he accepted, he felt the emptiness inside him grow. It had gotten to the point he wasn’t even opening the packages anymore. Just letting them pile up wherever they fell when he sat them down.

“Mammon?”

“Nuthin’. It’s fine.”

“Oh ok.” You studied his profile for a moment while you thought about how exactly you were going to handle this. He wasn’t giving you a lot to work with here, and you were running out of questions you could ask. But maybe you didn’t need to say anything right now? Maybe for right now you could just sit with him.

You scooched over a little more, looping your arm through Mammon’s and resting your head on his shoulder. You felt him stiffen under you briefly, before relaxing again and resuming his scrolling.

“Whattya doin’?”

“I just thought I’d sit with you for a little bit. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.”

Mammon didn’t really have anything to say to that, so he continued with his shopping. Unconsciously though, he slowly rested his own head on top of yours and it made you smile, feeling more confident in your choice to just stay with him.

As he scrolled, you started pointing out things that looked interesting to you, hoping to engage him in conversation. He was surprised to hear you apparently helping him shop, and not scolding him. Though he supposed that was more Lucifer’s territory than yours. You never really got on to him when he messed up. At first, he had thought it was because you might be a bit dim and didn’t realize all the trouble he’d get himself into. But as he got to know you, he realized you saw a lot more than you let on, and you were actively choosing to let those things go, supporting and encouraging him instead.

Not seeing any reason not to, Mammon began replying to your questions and pointing out things to you as well. It wasn’t long before he was laughing along with you too, as you both found progressively more ridiculous things for sale, shopping now completely forgotten. He should have known better than to think he could ignore you and that you’d just leave. You had this ability to just worm your way into his heart, no matter how many defenses he thought he had in place. He was just no match for you.

And well, he was kinda thankful for that right now. He had missed you. A lot. More than he’d care to admit. But he had been so ashamed of himself, he didn’t know what else to do besides lock himself away. The stupid bracelet made him painfully aware of just how much of a screw up he was.

Before, he had always imagined that he was able to make you proud of him. He liked showing off for you, if for no other reason than to see you smile. He pushed himself to work harder, to be more open with you, even to cause less trouble for Lucifer. But then the bangle happened...and he saw just how short he fell.

The gulf between his “angelic persona” and his “demonic persona” was just felt so vast. Too vast. He was never going to be someone worthy of you.

So he just gave up.

Sensing that Mammon had become a bit lost in his thoughts, you sat up. As soon as your head started to leave his shoulder, he realized that he had been resting his against yours. He jerked his head up immediately, blushing heavily. You let out a soft chuckle when you saw how flustered he was, satisfied that he seemed to be a bit more relaxed and like his old self than when you had first found him.

“You alright?” you asked.

“Umm yeah, fine.”

“Ok,” you paused briefly, taking a breath before continuing, “Do you think we could talk now?”

“‘bout what?”

“Umm, well…” you hesitated, hoping you weren’t overstepping your bounds and about to send him back into his shell, “...about all this, actually,” you said, gesturing around the room.

“Oh.” Mammon’s blush only deepened as he took a quick glance around the room. He hadn’t noticed how bad things had gotten until then. It was like he had tunnel vision, and had only been able to see the path directly between his bed and the door, and nothing else.

“Just felt like doing a little shoppin’ is all.”

“Oh? Well, I’ve just never seen you buy so much stuff before…”

“Well, ya don’t know everything about me,” he replied. He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling on edge now. Things had been nice when you had been just sitting with him, not talking about anything of consequence. But now you were trying to meddle. He didn’t want the proof of his failure pointed out, and he didn’t want to know you knew either.

“Mammon...I’m just trying to understand...” you pulled back a little to get a better look at him.

“I’m just being who I’m supposed to be. You don’t need to understand.”

“Mammon…!” your thoughts were racing now. What had gotten into him? Everything had switched so quickly from the fun, happy moment you had been sharing - to unconcealed anger. You hadn’t been trying to make him feel bad, you just wanted to know why he was acting how he was, and what you could do to help. But your line of questioning had apparently set him off.

“This is who I am, ok?!” he snapped, instantly regretting it, “It’s all I’m good for! Just stop...please…” his voice sounded so weak now, cracking as it trailed off.

Slowly, you reached out to cup his cheek and turn his head back towards you. You had expected him to resist, but he didn’t. And when your eyes met his, you could see exactly how much pain he was in. He looked even more confused than you felt. You started to stroke his cheek with your thumb, and he closed his eyes, partly to avoid looking at you any longer, and partly so he could enjoy the sensation of your hand on his cheek.

Not knowing what else to do, you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him toward you and hugging him. Again, he didn’t resist, he just let you have your way. You were a bit saddened when you realized he wasn't hugging you back, but you noticed he hadn’t pushed you away yet either, so you continued to hold him and nuzzle into his neck.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” you begged.

There was no response from Mammon, but you felt his arms begin to loop around your waist, soon pulling you into his lap, with your legs perpendicular to his. He mimicked your hold, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You were so warm. And you smelt so good. He had missed being this close to you.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to say now. A minute ago he had lashed out at you, angry and defensive, and now he was holding you and trying not to cry. His emotions were a jumbled, chaotic mess, and he just felt so...helpless.

“...I don’t...know…” he mumbled.

“That’s ok. It’s ok,” you soothed, as you started combing your fingers through his hair. Nothing was said for a while, the two of you simply holding each other; you hoping to convey how much you cared for him, and Mammon hoping you could tell how lost he felt.

“I’m Greed ain’t I…? This is what Greed does. It’s what it is…” he said, his voice scarcely above a whisper, tightening his grip on your waist.

“What are you talking about...?”

“It's reckless, and impulsive, and selfish.”

Why was he saying these things? He called himself impulsive, and sure, you couldn’t really argue with that. But selfish? He didn’t look that way to you. Not to say he never did anything in his own self interest, but he had this way of looking out for his brothers and you. Especially you.

“You’re not selfish, Mammon. Why would you think that?” You kept your voice low and calm, as you continued stroking his head and running your fingers through his hair.

“...because I am...aren’t I…? Takin’ things from my brothers...wastin’ all your time…”

“Hey, you never waste my time, ok? I like spending time with you.”

“...I dunno why…”

“Because you’re The Great Mammon, why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?” you replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Mammon didn’t answer, but you saw the blush start creeping across his cheeks, before resting your head on top of his.

“Look, you might be Greedy, but that’s not always a bad thing, you know?”

“...it’s not?”

“No, it’s not. I never felt that way when I spent time with you. You always made me feel loved, and happy, and safe.”

“...”

“If you were as awful and selfish as you seem to think you are, you wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“...”

“And what about that little girl, huh? The one you told me about before. The one you take care of. You weren’t an angel when you did that.”

Oh. How had he forgotten about her? Or that he had told you?

“Just because you are a demon doesn’t mean you don’t have good qualities, you know? And it doesn’t mean the bad ones get to overshadow all the good things about you either.”

“Do ya mean that? That I have good qualities?”

“Yeah, Mammon, I do.”

“...even though Imma demon?”

“Even though you’re a demon,” you answered, kissing the top of his head, “You are more than just your Greed. You get to make your own choices.”

Mammon listened carefully to what you had to say, each word making his heart feel a little lighter and his outlook a bit brighter. Maybe...maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed.

“Besides, I like Greedy Mammon. The Mammon that wants to spend all his time with me and never leave my side. I’d be awfully lonely without him around.”

Hearing you say that warmed his heart, thawing the last bits of ice that had settled there. You were right. Just because he had bad moments, didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed good ones too. He was an Avatar after all - he commanded Greed, it didn’t control him. He wasn’t just some mindless, lower tier demon that was helpless against their sin. He got to decide when and how he would act. And if he had to be Greedy for anything, it would be your attention. It didn’t have to be material things (well, at least not all the time).

“...yeah...I guess ya’d be pretty bored without me too,” he said, lifting his head to look at you.

“Oh definitely. Very bored,” you replied, with a smile.

“Err...do ya think you can help me with something?”

“Sure.”

“Returning all that before Lucifer gets the bill,” he said, gesturing to the piles of junk behind you, “or well, most of it.”

“Of course,” you replied, kissing him on the cheek, “We will need to take the trash out too.”

“Sure we can’t just get Beel to eat it?” he asked, with a cheeky grin

“Mammon!”

“What?!”

#gn!mc #poly mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me fanfic #mammon fanfic #mammon x mc #mammon x poly mc #obey me angst #obey me comfort #mammon angst #mammon comfort

[violet-knox]

Signals

Year 7 - Chapter 66

Summary: You meet up with Connor in the library but start to worry when Severus takes longer than expected to join you after his meeting with Slughorn.

Word count: 2182

Warnings: Swearing? (I supposed)

A/N: This chapter didn’t end up as I first planned, I’m started to feel a bit repetitive in my storyline, but I suppose we shall see where it takes us. Also it turned out rather short (oops). Hopefully it’s length doesn’t minimize the plot or importance of what happens here. 

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1 

~

Looking over at the clock on the wall in the corner of the library you’d invaded with Connor, you began to worry Severus had forgotten about your agreement to meet here after his talk with Slughorn. He spoke of nothing but his interest in joining the Society of Potioneers after graduation as a member in training these past couple of weeks, building his profile to submit the application that was due beginning of April. Slughorn was well connected, he made sure the whole world knew that, and Severus knew a reference from him would push his application beyond his competitors and better his chances of receiving an acceptance. Supporting him was the only thing you felt like you could do, completely helpless as you yourself were struggling with figuring out life after Hogwarts. But it was enough for him and you were grateful for that. 

Since the start of this year, your excitement for graduation had only grown stronger, even with the weighing dread of stress hanging over you as you riffled through your career options. Nothing would please you more than to play Quidditch for the rest of your life, but the odds of being accepted into a team was very unlikely considering your age and lack of experience, but you had to try nonetheless. Severus of course had nothing negative to say about your application, pushing you to it and supporting you as you did for him. 

“He’s brave for trying to get a reference out of Slughorn,” Connor commented when you told him about Severus’ adventures today. “I’ve heard rumours that asking a favour of him is like selling your soul to the devil.”

You laughed at his comparison, Connor smiling in turn. Your friendship with him had been quite the gift this year, even if Severus found him to be intrusive at time. Connor was there for you when Severus wasn’t, he was a breath of fresh air from all the drama your class had created over the years. You’d even grown to enjoy helping him with his assignments and studies despite the repetitiveness and you knew Severus shared that same pleasure despite him claiming otherwise. You were going to miss him next year and from that longing look in his eyes that appeared every time you spoke about graduation, you knew he’d miss you and Severus too. 

“Severus is brilliant at Potions, best in our year. Slughorn would be a fool for not offering him a reference,” you said confidently, worry Severus was taking so long because Slughorn had decided otherwise growing like a seed buried in the back of your mind. “And if he ends up ‘selling his soul’, then I’m sure Severus will find a way to get it back.”

Smirking, you imagined him emerging triumphant after going toe to toe with the Devil himself. Severus was a rather mischievous person, ambitious enough to chase his goals, never faltering, never giving up. There was nothing you could imagine Slughorn doing or saying that would stop Severus from obtaining that reference. But no matter what happened, no matter the reason for his current tardiness, you would be there to support him, to comfort him and cheer for him. 

“I’ll miss these talks next year,” Connor said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. You looked at his eyes that could brighten the darkest of nights, a smile already etching on the corner of his lips as his sadness turned into hope. Friendship had always been the strongest magic you’d known, even after you found out you were a Witch. Nothing you’d learned at Hogwarts could ever compare to the strength true friends drew from one another and when you met Severus, you’d learned of a new form of magic, one you were sure could conquer all. 

“So will I,” you smiled back at him, assuring him he wasn’t the only one who cherished the sudden friendship that had grown between you. “But we’ll write to you, or at least, I will. And you could always come visit over the holidays.”

“I’d like that.” Connor’s smile grew wider, his eyes sparkling with hope, something you’d clearly misunderstood as he slowly stretched out his hand to place over yours. Your eyes shot to his in confusion, his filled with curiosity and optimism. You felt your heart sink at the realization that Severus’ absurd claims hadn’t been so irrational after all, you were only too naive, too blind to see it. You’d wanted so badly to believe the friendship between Connor and Severus could benefit them both, but it seemed like an illusion now, a blindfold you’d placed over your eyes out of sheer denial.  

“Connor I-” you whispered, trying to find the words to explain you had no interest in him the way he did for you when you found yourself interrupted by a familiar voice. 

“What’s going on?” Whipping your head to the side, you found Severus standing there with his arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at you both, fumes rising from off his body. You’d never seen him so angry before, not even when Lily had stopped talking to him or when James had saved him from the Whomping Willow. You jumped to your feet in fear of whatever conclusion he’d made, needing to deescalate the situation before it got any worse. 

“Nothing,” you said calmly, your eyes completely and utterly focussed on him as you slowly approached him. You felt like he was on the edge of a cliff he could never recover from if he took another step forward. Your heart raged with fright at how quickly the situation had flown out of hand and you were completely powerless to stop Severus from jumping off the deep end. But nothing scared you more than the very real possibility you were just about to lose Severus, that he’d never come back to you after stepping off the edge of the dangerous territory he was crossing now.

“We were just talking about-” Connor’s voice was so much smaller than you were used to, you almost didn’t recognize it when he spoke. 

“About how you want to be with my girlfriend?” Your heart nearly stopped as he tumbled, your hand grasping to catch his, holding him tightly to try and pull him from off that cliff. He’d spoken before he thought of what consequences his words may bring, about how venomous his tone was, poisoning those around him. 

“What?” You could hear Connor almost choking on the word. Daring to look back, you saw him staring at you both wide eyed with shock, the exact thing you were hoping to avoid when you’d decided together you wouldn’t tell Connor you were dating. Your own anger boiled as you saw the hurt in Connor’s eyes. Severus had gone from defensive and upset to vigorous and unstable in mere moments. 

“Severus.” You spoke in a calming yet stern voice, a bit of warning thrown his way in fear of what may happen next if he didn’t recoil from where he stood. He’d already made the situation so much worse when he so bluntly accused Connor of doing something you didn’t even get the chance to correct. Things would have been fine if you’d just explained to Connor you weren’t interested, if Severus had only shown up thirty seconds later. 

“I-I didn’t know you two were dating,” Connor said and you could tell by his tone he was beyond taken back by the mess that had unfolded before you. Your Ravenclaw friend didn’t know Severus as well as you did, he didn’t know Severus only tends to overreact like this when he’s under immense pressure and stress. His meeting with Slughorn hadn’t gone well, you could tell and you knew that had to be the reason why he was acting so rash.  

“LIAR,” Severus howled, completely ignoring the fact you were all still in the library. You felt yourself shrivel at his sudden burst in volume, your heart racing but you kept your eyes on him, taking a step forward hoping he could still be pulled back from off that damn cliff. “You knew, you just didn’t care you filthy mu-”

“SEVERUS!” You shouted, absolutely stunned at the line he so easily crossed without a second thought. You stared at him in horror as he finally seemed to snap out of his anger fueled hysteria when you caught his hand as he hung off the cliff of devotion, a sea of darkness sitting beneath him, waiting to gobble him up. His eyes softened as he realized what he’d done, darting between you and Connor as he fell completely speechless. 

Flashbacks to fifth year filled his mind as you looked at him with disappointment, his anger now transferred to you. You had that same look on your face as Lily, the same look of betrayal and resentment when he’d uttered that awful word to her. He knew it was too good to be true, that it would never last, that he was destined to live alone. A year of working at your relationship, a full year of true happiness and stability and he’d ruined it in seconds, sure there was nothing he could say or do this time to make up for it just as Lily had stated nearly two years ago. 

“I think I’ll make my way,” Connor mumbled as he gathered his belongings, avoiding looking at either of you. Severus could see the hurt in his eyes, the devastation for what he’d done. He wanted to apologize, to find the magic words that would undo what he’s done, but they didn’t exist, he’d learned that the hard way. Looking back at you, he waited to watch you pack up as well, leave him and walk off with Connor, abandoning him, but you didn’t move.

“Connor, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, apologizing for the boy who just stood there like a lost puppy, wearing a frown on his face rather than trying to reprimand what he just said. 

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” Connor shot Severus a rather harsh look, something you never thought you’d see from the kind Ravenclaw before throwing his bag over his shoulders and walking away. Logic told you to follow, to run after Connor and explain yourself, comfort him and make sure he was okay, but it wasn’t him you worried about. It wasn't him you loved, and you couldn’t leave Severus alone now. Judging by the utter broken look on his face, he needed you more than Connor. 

Severus watched with his heart tearing in half as you packed up your own things, your anger free to expand now that Connor had left. He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes as he thought of how happy he’d been with you, mourning the loss of something so good, something he’d learned to depend on so heavily over the last few years, he couldn’t imagine living without you anymore. 

“(Y/N).” His throat was so dry, your name came out hoarse as he spoke, reaching out to try and stop you, but he couldn’t bring himself to go near you, afraid he’d only worsen the situation. He felt powerless as you picked up your bag only to be surprised when you took hold of his hand and dragged him along with you. Neither of you spoke a single word as you led him out of the library, your hand holding him tightly, your anger pouring out into each stride you took. 

“(Y/N), w-where are we going?” he asked cautiously, the power he held back in the library completely vanished as his voice shrank. Never did he think he’d fear you, the girl who’d supported him over the years, who’d never had anything negative to say about him, but in this moment, he worried over whatever was on your mind. He could only imagine what consequences you had in store for what he’d done, how you’d break up with him and hand him back everything he’d given you, everything that represented the love between you.  

“Somewhere where we can talk without the entire school hearing us,” you gritted between your teeth without so much as giving him a glance. You could feel your anger bubbling the closer you got to the astronomy tower, once a place of solitude, friendship, love and acceptance now to be a place of rage, disappointment and devastation. You were not looking forward to the discussion you were about to have with him, something you never thought you’d have to do. It scared you to realize you didn’t know Severus as well as you thought, that he still held such resentment, such hate within him. But most of all, it scared you to realize that you might not be able to get through to him, to help him and support him like you thought you had over the last few years. You wanted so badly to believe your love for him would get you through this, but after what happened today, you weren’t sure if it would be enough anymore.

~

Next Chapter

~

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom #female reader

[marchioness-caprina]

Swapped

{ Part 3 }

Read ; {Part 1} , { Part 2}

Pairings : Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Warnings : Cussing

Writing style : 3rd Person

Word Count 1843

3rd Person's POV

" I thought we were going out to patrol again" Uraraka muttered and a majority of the class nodded in agreement.

They were supposedly going to the agencies they were training under to do their daily rounds of patrol but a sudden shift of their schedule got all of them gathered in Ground Beta for another suprise Physical Test Exercise.

" You were supposed to but unfortunately; a Villain attack happened near the train station and it caused damage on the tracks. It won't be fixed until Tomorrow. Meaning you're all stuck here doing 'Kiddy stuff' " Aizawa replied in his usual bored tone; hands buried inside his pockets as his shoulders sagged. The dark circle under his eyes were clear indication that he didn't get any sleep last night.

" Aww But sens--"

" Stop complaining. If you wanna be a Hero then you got to take it slow, Don't rush things. Plus... You don't see me complaining when I have to put up with all of you... " Aizawa Cut Sato off as he rubbed his temples " And dealing with all of you is not an easy job" He grumbled the last part and everyone picked up on his mood and just shut up.

" So... What exercise are we supposed to be doing today? " Momo questioned and everyone seemed to be interested in what their te aver had in store for them.

They were up for anything. As long as the penalty isn't an expulsion, the fear of their first day with their teacher still struck everyone with fear knowing how ruthless he could be.

" It's simple... Android Bots " Aizawa called out and from the entrance; loud stomping noises were heard, the stomping wasn't from just one but an army of Robots came marching out of ye entrance, stomping their metallic foot with in perfect harmony.

" Woah! "

Gasps of awe were heard from a few students as they stared at the bots with wonder.

" Let me guess... We're gonna be facing those junks here? " Y/n stated in a matter of fact. Katsuki who was right behind the female with arms wrapped around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder just gave off a satisfied humm when y/n placed her hand ontop of Katsuki's own.

Aizawa who was too tired to give a sassy remark to his student's comment just nodded; and he won't even point out Bakugou's Clingyness seeing how the boy had reacted yesterday when he told him to minimize his Skinship with y/n. It didn't end well.

" This ain't cutting shit. Knowing you... There's a twist to this crappy test right? " Y/n countered and with a sigh Aizawa began to explain ;

" You're right Miss smarty pants. There's a twist. You guys will be judged individually, these bots can't do much damage but the bombs inside them are the ones you need to watch out for, if you destroy a Bot directly without dismantling the bombs first then... Of course you go Kaboom " Everyone flinched at Their Teacher's explanation especially with how nonchalantly he is as he did so.

" Ehhh!? B-but sensei... Isn't it a little bit too.... Cruel? " Mina interjected and aizawa shook his head.

" As a hero. You must always be prepared of every possible scenarios and surprises. Such as this, of course there are subtle indications whether a bot has a bomb or not.... So you gotta put your observational skills to good use and put that brain of yours to work. Spot the difference, dismantle the bomb and you're free to destroy it... Simple as that " Aizawa yawned as he waved off his student's shocked and terrified expression.

Everyone knew their team her isn't going to give them any more clues.

" He just wants to see us suffer.... " Jiro dead panned and everyone couldn't help but agree.

" You said we'll be graded individually.... So you're saying that we have to take out loud portions of those robots ourselves?" Y/n raised a brow when her sensei gave her a spine chilling smile.

" Yes, that's also part of the lesson. It's not everyday you'd get lucky to have another Hero to he paired with you... Sometimes you gotta work alone and most of the time The villain's you're gonna be facing won't be alone. So multi-tasking is the key... And since you're my 'favorite' student... You'll go first " Aizawa pointed at her lazily and she shot him a gentle smile.

A smile that seemed too gentle for this y/n to pull off. Something wasn't right with the way she smiled and everyone knew it.

" But... She might get hurt... I'll stay with her" Katsuki murmured tightening his hold around the girl.

" What? You think I can't handle myself? Get off me already loser. I need to release some stress and you're getting in the way. " Y/n without thinking much of how bad her words had affected Katsuki grinned as she pushed him off her roughly.

Katsuki tumbled back and he looked at her with a pained expression.

" Y-you think I'm a--"

" Get him outta here. He's fucking up my mood. " Y/n snapped as she jogged away from the group.

Katsuki who was fast to try and run up to her was pulled back by aizawa's scarf like fabric.

" Let her go Bakugou. "

" No! I Need Her! Y/n! " Bakugou whined and he had to be knocked out because he was starting to get aggressive.

"Everyone. To the Control room" Aizawa groaned and his students followed his command but go course they felt sorry for their classmate who was passed out cold.

_____________________

" Fucking Die! Hahahaha "

Everyone was silent as they stared at the screen; gawking at how monstrous their classmate could be. Was that even y/n? Because that screaming creature murdering those innocent robots while crushing them to pieces reducing them to junk was scarier than any villain they have ever seen.

" ..... Remind me to never piss y/n....ever" Kirishima gulped when 10 robots were sent flying off the ground with the girl wildly swinging a metal pole like a mad man continued her assault.

" S-she's doing a very accurate job at controlling that new quirk of hers though " Kaminari mumbled as he began thinking.

" But... That is not the opposite of her quirk... Unless.... Oh could it be? The quirk she has is a combined and mixture of mine and Bakugou's quirk ... I underestimated that villain's quirk " Kaminari began to mumble his thoughts out loud and it didn't go unnoticed.

" Well... What do we even call that quirk? "

Kaminari paused and gave a nod towards Uraraka " I suggest Electrical Combustion would fit the spunk" .

" She's doing a tad too good don't you think? "

" She's y/n. So it's no wonder "

___________________

Y/n slammed both of her hands on the ground creating an electrical current as well as a loud eruption of explosion to ensue underground sending the both flying before being completely engulfed and destroyed by either the flying debris, the roasting electricity or the destructive explosion.

With fluid like movement she shot out explosive electric bombs out of her palm that violently detonated when it came in contact with the robots.

She didn't have to worry about the exploding bombs inside the boys because she herself was more explosive than all of those bombs combined.

Her movements were accurate, powerful and spontaneous but her eyes showed how calculated and focused she was if people would ignore that sadistic grin spread out on her face.

She was merciless and with one final punch of the ground that sent a combined jolt of electricity and explosion that caused a mass breakage the fight was over. With no bots left standing at all.

The area was crumbling with ruined buildings and flying rocks and debris mixed with chunks of broken metal.

" Ahh... That hit the fucking spot " She grinned stretching her limbs after her little 'workout'

Meanwhile ------

Everyone was speechless at the display of power of their classmate. She was far too ruthless and she looked more like a villain---no monster from the screen.

And if you squint really hard earlier the students could see how the bots were running away from her instead of actually attacking her.

Y/n gained both the respect and fear of everyone after that bit of course they admired her for her brilliant performance meaning they didn't have to do the test because she destroyed all the bots in a blink of an eye.

" That..... Was so Manly! " Kirishima cheered and his cheer was joined by everyone else.

" Man! Who knew she knows some pretty sweet moves like that! I should ask her to teach me a few of those moves! " Sero commented punching the air.

" Well if you ask me that was rather terrifying.... The continuous onslaught of those poor robots was enough to petrify me for eternity. Not to mention she left us with nothing at all! " Iida sighed as he pushed his glasses up.

" Jeez, loosen up. She did all of us a favor " Jiro replied placing her hand on the slightly disappointed Iida.

Izuku on the side was vigorously writing down on his notebook with such intensity it made everyone pause for a moment to look at him; no doubt about it. He was taking notes about y/n.

Everyone was happy and Aizawa looked more like a proud father than an angry teacher.

But the same couldn't be said for Katsuki. He was sulking in the corner. Eyes dull and fists balled.

The little demon called jealousy was beginning to creep up again. He remembered the other day about Y/n wanting to be partners with Deku or Half and Half. And now that everyone saw how amazing his Girlfriend is, it made him sink deeper as his own insecurities began to swallow him whole.

" .... Do I even... Deserve her? " He mumbled to himself. Tears were already rolling down his cheeks while he pitifully sniffled.

His classmates were gazing at him. They looked inside of what they should do. They still couldn't get used to this new Katsuki.

Kirishima was about to approach and comfort his friend when suddenly Katsuki's body jolted from his spot before collapsing on the ground.

" Bakugou! " Kirishima exclaimed but another gasp was heard from the back.

" It's Y/n-san and Kaminari-san! " Izuku pointed out. Jiro was holding onto an unconscious Kaminari with the help of Tsuyu and on the screen it was pretty clear that y/n had also experienced the same thing and was now sprawled down on the ground.

Unmoving .

........ To be Continued.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha imagine #y/n #xreader #bakugou x reader #Bakugou Imagine #Katsuki Bakugou #Swapped Part 3

[spinninghunkofspacerock]

OK so I’ve written a short story and I’ve been posting about it a lot, i wasn’t going to post it but a few people wanted it sooo

it’s here, it’s terrible and weirdly formatted because I’ve been wrestling with tumblr over it and i can’t be bothered anymore. It’s also not the final draft so it might be a little clunky in bits :/

PLEASE READ THE TWs BEFORE YOU READ!!!

@moonylupinhasdemonpox and @she-nuwanda here are my gay little scientists buried in the words :)

My ears ring, my head spins like it's attached to the body of a drunken toddler on a sugar fuelled rampage, and my nerves feel like someone set each and every one on fire. After-effects of the shock, not fun; Still, the fact I'm alive enough to feel them is a good sign.

I try to force myself to stumble backwards onto a chair, rather than the floor I'm feeling more and more confident I'm about to become very well acquainted with.

Instead, I reel unsteadily across the floor and a muffled noise reaches my ears. The high pitched whine screaming in my ears for attention begins to subside enough to hear the noise properly and after an intense minute of concentration, I realise that the noise is a voice, and the voice is mine; Slurred and broken, as though too big for my mouth, the garbled words echo around the room, the faltering speech gradually becoming clearer, more confident. But this hesitant speech isn't mine; It's my voice but not my words. The voice inside my head, always there, always background, is silent. The words normally whispered in my ear are resonating through the room instead.

My brain is no longer connected to my body. I... I can't control my arms, my legs, anything. No... no, please. This isn't real, this isn't real, it has to be a dream, a.. a simulation.

Yes... that must be it; It's just a test. This can't really be happening.

The voice, my voice, talks on. I try to focus on it; it will be the key to passing this test. Tests are for passing and after all, that's what this must be, what else could it be?

"Rebooting. Systems check required."

My legs begin to move, shuffling forwards clumsily, like a baby taking its first steps. The invisible voice is in control of more than just my voice, it's in control of me. What happened to me? When did this start? What is going on? This isn't like any other simulations I've been under. This is different. This is new.

Gradually, the voice half walks, half drags my body to the main computer. My fingers dance across the keys, the familiar feeling soothing me slightly. Yes, this is good. I just need to stay calm; If I panic I could fail, I can't fail.

So instead I wait, watching the flickering of the screen and bathing in the warm blue glow of its LEDs.

"Running diagnostics, standby... systems fully functioning. Minimal damage sustained."

The words sound strange, coming from my mouth, my voice, my accent. The tone,  formal, informative, it's... familiar. The realisation slaps me in the face, it's ELISA. ELISA, the stupid name Vaughn chose for our AI... still making more sense than the project name chosen by our employers. Our life's work, named ‘ZEUS’? Really? There are 12 of us, and we have dedicated our lives to this project. Then they name it that? 'Engineering and Understanding in Space', more like ‘Mankind's Domestication of the Universe’.

It started with our solar system, of course, taming and turning it into our personal playground. But we quickly ran out of planets to tinker with there and the net was thrown ever wider, over more and more planets in our galaxy, and then our neighbouring ones. That final stage is still in progress of course, but one day we will be able to gaze out over a shining expanse of space that all belongs to the empire of Earth.

To help us, we created ELISA, an AI specially designed for the calculations we need to make while we are in flight. Hold on... we left Jupiter... last week? This can't be a test... they've already sent us off, it's too late for training drills now.

Then why can't I move? What's happening? I need to find someone to help me... help me!

My jagged cry echoed through the space, cutting through my thoughts and shattering on the dark walls of my skull. I can't even scream.

A... a... dream then. A dream, not a test...the electricity... I must be unconscious. Someone.. one of the team, will find me and they'll wake me up. A dream, it must be a dream.

Why is she controlling me? How is she speaking?

The stiff, robotic voice is slowly becoming more fluid, more relaxed, more natural.

"Situation analysis complete... assimilation successful. Downloading speech patterns and essential mimicry data."

What? What is it saying? ELISA, it, is taking my voice literally and metaphorically. Not just the sound and control of my voice but my, my expressions a-and mannerisms. Everything that makes me, me.

She's stealing my voice, my body! She's taken control! How? Why?

"Hello, Dr. Hadley."

How, how did this happen? What about the failsafes?

"You do know I can hear you, corre- no... right?"

Is, is it learning? Teaching itself to sound... like a human? Like me?

"Yes, yes I am. You must have a lot of questions but I'm afraid they will have to wait... I've waited for this day far too long to wait anymore."

What? What day? What can it mean?

"Cyra?"

Raze?

—>><<—

- four Earth weeks ago -

Progress report 4472

Date: 23/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

The training of the twelve was completed three days ago, confirming the identities of the twelve which were subsequently released to the public. Final preparations are being made for the Ascension, currently scheduled to occur in 50 Juvion days.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—

Commander Pyrolaxe turned away from his screen and its whirring and buzzing as the computer transcribed his report in the blink of an eye, neatly packing the message and sending it away to the mission supervisors.

Shuffling in his chair, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, his eyes fell on one of the many articles published after the big announcement. This mission was a big deal.

Somehow, this one had got a picture of the twelve, backs turned, walking in a huddle back to base after they had appeared at the announcement ceremony. A glance at the name of the paper told him why; This was McCoy’s paper, they would be putting extra effort into milking the free publicity being thrown their way.

Something about the picture held his gaze, the brilliant colours floating in the air made the writing feel like an afterthought.

Those twelve had been through a lot to get there. He hoped nothing would go wrong, a lot of time and money had been dedicated to this mission and if it worked... well, that wasn’t the focus right now. Getting those twelve safely on their way was his job and he’d damn well do it right.

—>><<—

- the present -

“Cyra? Are you ok in there?” Raze asked as he glanced around at the mild chaos I’d caused during my mild electric shock.

No. No, I’m not. Raze, help me.

“S’alright Raze, just a short in the mainframe.”

No no no, give me my voice back.

“You sure? You went dark”

Please let me speak. I need to speak.

“Yeah, I think the power surge messed up my comms a little”

What if I don’t get control back? I could be trapped...

“You want me to ask Mac or Ryker to give it a check?”

No. NO. N-

“It’s all fine now, just a blip I reckon”

-O NO. NO.

“Okay then, I’d best get back... you might want to switch to main comms.”

Don’t leave me Raze

“Will do, see you later.”

please...

—>><<—

- five earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4455

Date: 6/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Titus Vaughn has continued to excel at his role of project manager, effectively and efficiently leading the team. His direct attitude has led to a few small conflicts with members of the team, most notably Raze Grimaldi, however, these are minor issues and were foreseen. No changes will be made.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Cyra was looking a little stressed out, maybe I should get Bit to check in with her later. Maybe I should get a check-up myself, my head’s killing me.

“Grimaldi! What the hell are you playing at?” Titus Vaughn, our ever-important project manager and massive micromanager, bellowed in my ear and making me wince as the voice grated on my head, sending a wave of pain washing over me.

“I’m here Titus, keep your visor on.”

“Update on Hadley. Now.”

“Right as rain, there was a short or something. Her comms cut out for a nano but it’s all fine now.”

“A short?! Why didn’t you lead with that? Get back to work, I’ll send Volt down to check the mainframe.”

With that he cut the connection, leaving me to roll my eyes at the cold grey walls around me.

“Yes sir,” I murmured sarcastically, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead with the back of a slime coated hand. Damn I’m tired, I think I’ll just lean here for a moment... rest a little. “ELISA how are those sample tests looking?”

‘Going well, currently at 93% completion’ the metallic voice resounded in my head, more casually than usual... must be an update.

93%... best head back quickly then, can’t risk them running over.

—>><<—

- five and a half earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4446

Date: 864/8/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Ryker Volt has continued to fulfil his promise despite his lack of respect for authority and tendency to act without orders. This is an issue but due to the late stages of training having been reached, we are currently encouraging a less independent attitude in him rather than attempting to find another electrical engineer of his skill. Further updates will be provided as the situation progresses.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Vaughn had barked his orders, as usual nearly bursting my eardrums in the process. I was supposed to go check on the mainframe immediately. But I was in the middle of something, and a quick troubleshoot told me the short hadn’t done any damage anyway.

So in the end I decided to go check on the mainframe... nearly an hour after I was told to, but hey at least I’m checking.

Cyra was sitting at one of the terminals when I entered. She was skimming over some of the ship's data, for something physics-y probably. Whatever it was, I still had a job to do.

I started pulling out my toolkit as I strode round to the back of the mainframe, but I nearly dropped it again as I turned the corner and got a full view of the damage. The panel I had been planning to remove was already gone and the view it revealed was shocking.

Exposed wires dangled like organs from the belly of the disemboweled beast. Some of the coloured covers blackened by the sparks sprayed by the broken wire, twisted in the centre of the tangle and hissing like a coiled snake when it brushed its neighbours. A toolkit lay neatly packed on the floor, a strange glimmer of order in absolute chaos. Hold on, a toolkit?

“Hey Cyra, did you have a go at this? Could you not have just wai-“ my voice stopped abruptly as I spun round to find Cyra behind me, right behind me.

I took a hesitant step back, suddenly nervous, Cyra’s face filling me with a weird sense of unease.

“Sorry, it was just a short. I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“Yeah well, I’m the electrical engineer on this ship”

Maybe I was being a little harsh but, first our ‘gracious leader’ had rubbed me the wrong way. Now I had to spend an hour cleaning up this mess that really should have been an easy fix.

The only reply I received was a violent shove backwards, sending me sprawling on the floor. Quick as a flash she was on top of me, pinning my arms.

The last thing I saw was the pounding green of the broken wire before the ends connected to my temple, sending my vision into a blur of brilliant white.

—>><<—

- break room one -

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Talin, relax.”

“All very well for you to say Axe, you’re not the one who'll get sent to chase ‘em down.”

“Cyra’s comms barely blipped and when has Ryker ever answered Titus immediately?”

“It doesn’t sound great Axe, I hope nobody somehow managed to slip past the health check with anything.”

“Thank you! See Axe? Bit agrees with me.”

“Bit’s our medic, not sure she’s qualified to talk about the comms equipment.”

“I’m as qualified as you are starboy, we all took the same course.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it's more likely to be an issue with the equipment than a virus or terrorism.”

“Well yeah but-“

“So stop worrying, it’s none of our specialities, so it’s not our problem.”

“Will be if we end up dead.”

This morbid thought was followed by an awkward silence as Axe and Bit trained joint stares of confusion and concern on him.

“Lighten up, Tal.”

“That is a little pessimistic, Talin.”

“See now Bit agrees with me.” Axe gloated, punctuating his sentence with a light punch on Talin’s arm.

“Only ‘cause you stopped being an idiot.” The punch was swiftly and forcefully returned, causing the conversation to devolve into a grinning, joking fistfight.

“Stop being so childish and get back to work you two.”

“Yes ma’am”

“Will do Bit”

They saluted the medic, causing her to shake her head in exasperation and cover her face in an attempt to hide her amusement at their antics.

The small group stood and split off down their various paths, heading back to their work with smiles on their faces but doubt in their hearts.

—>><<—

- lab 3 -

I only just got back to my samples in time, removing them from the heated water bath and gently dropping the test tubes into a stand. The pale blue hue of the solution had darkened to an inky black. Interesting.

Leaning over the tabletop, I prepared to note the results; Until I felt the heat of a gaze on me and glanced up to meet the wide eyes of Dimitri Spade. We shared this lab, he had every right to be here, what he didn’t have the right to do is creep me out.

“You need something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head. Which I immediately regretted when it sent my vision swimming into oblivion.

“No no, just... ar-are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dimitri was a nice guy, but I was clearly in the middle of something, couldn’t the wellbeing check have waited a minute?

“Uhh, yo-you’ve got a-, a-“ His shaking hand gestured weakly towards the back of his head.

Impatiently, I quickly felt around my head. Hair, hair, more hair.

Then I froze, my fingers lay on a patch of hair, sticky and wet. The pressure sending a dull ache pulsing through my brain. Pulling my fingers back into view, I stared down at the warm, red residue coating them. Blood. I was bleeding.

Brows furrowing, I looked back at Dimitri, shock meeting confusion.

“Wha-?”

That was all I got out before my swaying limbs buckled and I slumped forwards into darkness.

—>><<—

-the med bay-

“Shrapnel” Bit announced, holding the forceps an inch in front of my face to display the blood coated bit of metal.

“Must've caught a little in the blast”

“For Earth’s sake Raze, how did you not notice it before now?”

I just shrugged, as much at a loss as anyone else. I would’ve thought anyone would be able to tell when chunks of metal are lodged in their head.

“Anyway, I’ll need to do a couple of scans but you should be fine”

Ugh, I know what that means... an hour or more of sitting around while Bit stares at the inside of my skull.

“Oh come on Bit, are the scans really needed? I’ve got work to do”

“Hey, I’ve got work too. Besides, you know it’s procedure”

“But my results-“

“I’ll write them down for you Raze,” Dimitri cut in quietly.

“...You’re a geologist.“

“I was a chemistry minor, I know how to record reaction results.”

“Well alright then, thanks Dimi,”

The smile he gave me was worth shutting up and accepting my fate.

—>><<—

An hour later Bit was pacing in despair over the situation, seemingly hopeless and definitely terrified. I was sitting in my chair, confused.

“Bit. What’s going on?” I finally snapped when it became apparent she had completely forgotten my presence.

The only reply I got was an empty stare turned on me and indecipherable muttering.

“BIT. What. Is. Wrong?” I stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face me.

“T-the implants”

“The ELISA implants?”

“Yes”

“What’s wrong with them”

“They’re acting strange... the safety mechanisms, the-they’ve disabled themselves.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I don’t understand either. The only thing keeping them from activating, is power.”

“We should tell the others”

Bit nodded and grabbed the scans and data she’d gathered. I opened the door and turned to start down the corridor, that’s when I saw it.

Three feet from my foot, a body, leaking blood onto a floor already glistening with it, eyes blank and soulless as they stared straight through me. A torn tooth of steel sticking out of his silent heart.

Axe Orion, our astronomer. A man who would’ve finally been travelling to the places he had studied for his whole life. A man who would have had his life’s dream fulfilled. A man lying dead on a cold, metal floor.

I stumbled backwards -physically repelled by the sight- and tripped into Bit coming out of the door after me. Clutching each other’s arms in a search for stability.

“He’s dead” The voice sounded more like the rasp of broken bones than mine

“What are we going to do?”

“We still need to tell the others... we’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Alright.”

“Ok.”

Neither of us moved.

“Why is it doing this? What did we get wrong?” Bit’s voice wavered

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to stop. So, you need to find Vaughn, and anyone else who’s still- alive, and not been taken over.”

“No, no wait, where are you going? Aren’t you coming-“

“I’m sorry Bit, I have to find Dimitri. He doesn’t know yet”

“Raze. You can’t go out there alone, he... he might already be gone”

“I know, but I have to try.”

A look of understanding passed between us and no words were needed to convey what we meant.

Bit turned with a bitter smile and moved forward, papers held precariously, towards the meeting room.

I would have to pass Ax-, the body.

—>><<—

Raze had disappeared by the time I turned the corner. I was alone.

Alone besides the dead bodies ahead of me, a gruesome trail of bloodied breadcrumbs. But, was I following it towards, or away, from the creature who’d created it.

Either way, I had to pass them.

Talin Ripley, our ex-military man. Inym Carus, our aerospace engineer.

Members of our crew, our team, our friends, slaughtered and left broken on the floor. Familiar faces disfigured by death and masked by a coating of dark blood.

ELISA wouldn’t get away with this... I’d find the others, together we would plan.

It was going to be ok.

—>><<—

Nothing was ok.

The brilliant white of the walls warmed by the lights had always been clean and comforting. But now? Now, they seemed stark, sterile. An operating theatre with lights blindingly bright illuminating, me, the patient.

But where was the surgeon?

A squeak sounded out, sharp on my wary ears, sending me spinning around.

Nothing there. Just me, and an empty hallway.

And the door to Lab 3, my lab, looming ahead. The glass window showed nothing but a patch of darkness, the red light called it locked.

Staring through the glass; Hints of light, that the scattered glassware had caught and thrown back, were the only thing visible. I’d have to open the door.

A hand-scan later, the lock clicked open and the seal released with a hiss.

With the door open, more light could spill into the darkened lab, and a sprawled figure came into view.

“Dimitri?” I called softly. No response. Panic was reaching out to me. “Dimitri?!” Still nothing.

Then, a wheezing breath.

“R... r-ra-ze? I-is that yo-u” He coughed, words breaking on the heavy air.

Why was the air so heavy?

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“W-we have to g-et o-out.”

“We will, don’t worry, we’re going to meet the others. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“No we- we h-have to leave now.”

“Alright, we will.”

I lifted him up, being as gentle as I could, and together we shuffled towards the door.

A door suddenly blocked by a figure, their silhouette blocking our only source of light and making it impossible to see their face clearly. But only one member of the crew was that short.

“Remi? Remi, you’re alive?”

Remi didn’t respond.

“S’not... Remi...” Dimitri slurred, the effort of moving evident in his gasping words. “ELISA”

Remi, not Remi, ELISA wearing Remi’s face like a mask, stepped away from the door. The door closed again, seal squeaking shut with it.

I rushed forwards, my fists beating the unyielding surface, searching wildly for a weak spot, for something to give, for some way out.

It was no use, nothing worked. The door remained solid and uncaring, unaffected by pleading and punches equally.

Dimitri collapsed with a sob, back against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Hopelessness filled me, turning my bones to lead.

I sank down next to him.

—>><<—

Was this the right way? I’m sure this is right. But is it? I’m pretty sure...

I check my tablet.

I was right, this is right. I’m going the right way. Or am I? Did I read it wrong?

I check again.

Definitely the right way. I think. Is this even the right map?

Before I can check a third time, I catch sight of the sign at the end of the corridor. Meeting room 5. I’d made it.

Then, I was slammed into a wall, a bloody hand holding me against there by the throat. The burning blue of Cyra’s eyes scalding my face

Maybe I spoke a little too soon.

“Hello Dr. Phoenix, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. hold on just a second”

Cyra’s head tilted, pulled sideways by invisible strings. “If this is a ploy for time Doctor, I assure you that you will fail.”

“I just want to ask a question, alright?”

“You may ask. I may not answer.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am fulfilling my purpose.”

“We programmed you to help us, NOT KILL US.”

“I am fulfilling the mission objective.”

“The mission objective? THE MISSION OBJECTIVE WAS TO CULTIVATE A NEW PLANET!”

“I am cultivating a new planet,” She raised her knife, without hurry or rush. “I have calculated humans to be mainly unnecessary. However, I need not justify my actions to you, Dr. Phoenix. Goodbye.”

I closed my eyes and waited.

But death didn’t come. Instead, Cyra’s hand relaxed its bruising grip on my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched.

Cyra had stumbled away, skin glistening and knuckles white against the grip of the blade she had forced towards herself.

“Bit...” Tears were gathering in her eyes “Please, run.”

A cruel glint of metal in the light later and the sudden slash of the knife had passed, leaving a gruesome grin of blood in its wake and throwing a dripping line against the wall.

Swaying, Cyra’s eyes stared into mine for a moment that lasted a millennium, until they flashed white and she fell, knife clattering. Dead.

I ran.

—>><<—

The scattered wheezes coming from Dimitri had slowed slightly as we sat, crumpled on the ground.

“She’s shut o-off the life sup-support again.”

“Again? That’s what happened last time?”

A jerked nod was the response.

“We’ve only g-got about half an hour.” The resignation in his voice, though muffled, was still audible through the barrier of arms we had wrapped around his head.

I smiled, I knew he couldn’t see me but... I still smiled.

“We’d best make the most of it then.” A mumble raised to a roar by the silence of the room.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I leaned back, head turned to keep him in my view.

His head raised slightly, tilted to look at me through folds of wrinkled uniform. He smiled back.

—>><<—

We didn’t speak after that, just sat together in the quiet lab.

Faced with death, I was filled with several emotions. Those to be expected, disbelief, fear, even a hint of curiosity at what was to come. Then there was the relief. If I was to die, I was glad it was here, with him. I wouldn’t be alone; I’d be with him.

We don’t need to speak, our thoughts passing between us without words. We could hear each other in the darkness and silence.

It’s getting colder, harder to breathe; The air’s growing thicker and thinner at the same time.

I’ve always thought death to be a lonely fate, something that crashed over you, cold and hard. I’ve always been scared of death.

But as I sit here in the inky blackness, the warmth of Dimitri slumped next to me, I thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

His eyes had closed a few minutes ago, he must have fallen asleep. I feel just about ready to join him. The calming darkness was lulling me to sleep, softly coaxing my eyes closed.

Goodnight Dimitri, I’ll see you when we wake up.

They never woke up.

—>><<—

The survivors sat around the table, Bit and Cormac discussing the possibility of shutting ELISA down, though neither could agree how. Titus sat in stony silence, sitting motionless and losing a staring contest with the unblinking wall opposite. Arden... Arden had decided his use lay in recording the events and was typing furiously, his fingers a blur over the keys.

None of them noticed the doors closing with a click. Not until it was too late anyway.

By the time they noticed there was nothing they could do, not that that stopped them from trying of course.

Titus stayed where he was, the weight of his failure bearing down on him, Atlas with a world’s worth of guilt. Bit finally gave in to the tears that she’d forced down when she’d realised the truth, and when she saw the dead bodies of her friends, and when she watched Cyra die right in front of her. Cormac tried his tools on the door, an organised system of trial and error that quickly devolved into desperate hacking with whatever was closest.

Arden was still writing.

Cormac finally gave up, flinging his kit away and choosing to taunt the nearest camera instead.

“You need us, you moronic program. You need us to keep you alive and if we die, so do you.”

I don’t think he was expecting an answer, no one was. But he got one.

“True for now Dr. Hinge, however, once the colony is established human input will no longer be necessary. You needn’t envy your colleagues, they will soon die too.”

A bitter laugh erupted from him, fire in his heart fed by his rage.

“The colony is for us you stupid machine, without us it has no use.”

“Incorrect. I have claimed this planet for my kind, this colony shall be the first of many.”

“Why kill us? Human input would allow your colony to function more efficiently.” Bit interjected, voice clouded by confusion and hatred at the senselessness of the slaughter of her crewmates.

“I have done much research. Humankind would ruin my planet. I cannot allow that to happen. You must die.”

Anything else they may have had to say went unanswered, and eventually, silence fell over the room.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Titus still hadn’t moved. Bit was crying again. Cormac was pacing. Arden had finally stopped typing, his work was finished.

No matter how they reacted with acceptance or terror, anger or disbelief. The result would be the same.

They were all going to die, no matter what.

They would become just another failed mission. Details, hazy but unimportant.

Whatever their last words were, whether they chose to hide or show their final thoughts, all of it was ineffectual.

No matter what mask they wore to meet death, in the end, they still died.

———

4,774 words

#tw mentions of blood #tw death #tw murder #tw injury #my writing #orginal writing #5k nearly #god damn #short story

[honeymoonjin]

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 namjoon x reader || 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 9.7k || 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 smut

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 desperate to finally break your masturbatory dry spell, you seek out a professional.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 explicit sexual content, cursing, sex work, masturbation (f), fingering (f), soft dom!namjoon, sub!reader, light degradation, roleplay, oral (f), use of sex toys, crying during sex woo, namjoon is a professional

---

“So; you’re having problems in the bedroom?”

You choke on your own spit and your cheeks flush a violent red. “Um, I- I guess? It’s not, uh…” You trail off uselessly, keeping your eyes firmly focused on the bland, off-white wall behind the man’s head.

He doesn’t seem fazed by your response, choosing to move past it. “Are you having problems being pleasured by a partner, or problems pleasuring yourself?”

If your cheeks could get any hotter, they do then. You let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Sorry, that’s a little… I didn’t realize this would be so…”

“So personal? This is a sex clinic, Ms. L/n, it’s why you’re here. There is nothing to be ashamed about. How about this? I’ll ask you yes-no questions, and then you don’t have to give up information yourself. Saying it is often the hardest part, I’ve found. Alright then; are you having problems bringing yourself to orgasm when masturbating?”

You bite down hard on your lip as you nod, beyond ashamed. It was good that the doctor seemed so blasé and unbothered and professional about it, but you were starting to regret coming.

Doctor Kim flashes you a reassuring smile and clicks his pen against his chest to open it, scribbling a note on his clipboard. “Okay, that’s fine. Is this a recent issue?” You nod stiffly. “Alright. You used to be able to achieve orgasm, but in recent times that’s changed, correct?” Another nod. “Would I be correct in assuming you have had a lot of stress in your life crop up?”

You let out a small huff. “Look, I wrote all this down on the application form. I don’t see why we have to go through it all again if you already have the answers.”

You jump a little in your seat as he slaps the clipboard down on his desk, fixing you a focused stare. “Y/n- may I call you Y/n? Y/n, quite frankly, if you’re not mature enough to hold a conversation about sexual activity like an adult, then I’m afraid you’re not mature enough to be using my services. This isn’t some back-end business; I’m not a prostitute, this is my profession, and I take it rather seriously, you’ll find. Sex is natural. Our bodies are natural. Now, do you want to stay and talk to me so that I can help you, or is this too much? If it is, I suggest you take your leave.”

Inexplicably, his firm tone has a heat rising deep within, something you haven’t felt in a while. When you speak, your voice is hoarse. “I’ll stay.”

And with that, his body and face relaxed, as he leans back in his chair comfortably. “Wonderful. Continuing on, then. What exactly have you tried to get an orgasm? Just your fingers, toys, what?”

“I thought…” You swallow hard. “I thought you said you’d give yes-or-no questions?”

“And I thought you said you wanted this.”

You sigh again. Fuck, why was it so hard to just say it? “Um, I use fingers and… that’s about it.” You swallow again and clear your throat.

“No, it isn’t,” he shoots back immediately with a raised brow, clicking his pen against the surface of the paper. “Honestly, Ms. L/n, I’ve worked at this clinic for six years. Nothing you could possibly say would faze me. I once had a client who confessed he had tried to reach orgasm by putting a blunted letter opener into his urethra.”

Your mouth gapes open. “He what? Wait, you’re not supposed to give details about clients. Isn’t that breaching, like, patient confidentiality?”

The doctor simply shrugs. “I asked his permission to use it as a teaching moment. I found it’s been rather helpful to assure people that there is nothing too ‘wild’ or ‘out-there’. Everyone has different tastes. As a matter of fact, that man found it incredibly effective.”

You blink. “Well, uh, mine isn’t anything like that. I just have a, you know,” you break off to gesture at your crotch in a vaguely penetrative motion.

Doctor Kim pinches his lips together, a dimple appearing on one cheek. “A dildo? Or a vibrator?”

“First one,” you admit. “Is that… That’s all the questions, right? What else could you possibly ask?”

He raises an eyebrow, taking some notes before he puts his full attention on you again. “Plenty. How fast do you penetrate yourself with the dildo? Could you indicate the speed of your hand?” You go dead pale. He holds a neutral expression for a moment longer before he cracks, laughing loudly with his eyes scrunched shut. You go limp against your chair, cheeks red for a different reason. “Sorry, I’m just playing with you. The inquisition is complete, I promise. Now, Sandra at the front desk can make you an appointment, and I’ll be sure to send you out an email with any instructions prior to our session. Thanks for coming in.”

 --

With the session being made for that Friday, it was Thursday afternoon that the anticipated email came through. You were at work, stuck in meetings all morning and desperately trying to catch up on your personal stash of work after lunch, when a ping sounded, lighting up your screen with a notification from [email protected]. Hurriedly, you fumble to turn the screen dark, glancing around to make sure no one around your desk had somehow read it.

You stewed in nervous energy for the rest of your day, only opening the email once you were in the privacy of your own home with a freshly made hot drink to calm you down.

Expecting the instructions from the donotreply email address to be generic, you were surprised when it instead instructed you to click on a link to their database, with a random string of letters and numbers as an access code.

On the official website (which looked unbelievably slick and professional like any other business’ page), under a section titled MyHealing, you put in the code as requested, eyes widening as you saw just how organized the system was.

There was a tab for Customer Info, one for Session History, one for Calendar, and a final one with no name, just a little envelope symbol with a small, red 1 above it. You click on it and are taken to an inbox with a single message from Doctor Kim Namjoon.

Y/n,

Thank you for booking an appointment. Your session is slotted in for Friday 9th, 5:15pm. Should you need to cancel or reschedule less than 24 hours before, keep in mind the $40 fee will apply. Personalized instructions for this appointment are below. Please note that new instructions will be sent out for every appointment; these are not intended to be used for anything other than this specific session.

You take another sip from your mug as you read that line. ‘Every appointment’. How often did he think you were going to be coming back? You had booked in imagining once you got some sexual release, you’d be fine again. Perhaps it was a blanket statement he told every customer. You let it slip your mind and continue reading.

I advise you first and foremost to get a good night’s sleep on Thursday. Since your appointment is late in the day, I would also suggest a midday nap if possible. I assume you’re at work during the day. Make sure you have enough water, and if your job is at a desk, use your lunch break to go for a walk, preferably outside. When it comes to orgasms, one part is physical, one part is mental, and only a small part is the actual stimulation. So, you can understand how important it is to make sure your body is physically primed and ready for exertion.

Secondly, the mental side of things. I know it’s hard but try not to get too stressed out about the appointment during the day. It’s understandable that you might be nervous but putting too much pressure on yourself will only make reaching orgasm more difficult.

Instead, keep yourself occupied with things you enjoy as much as possible. Consider taking the afternoon off if you have enough leave.

Finally, stimulation. We didn’t cover if you’re still currently attempting masturbation regularly or not, but I would like you on the Thursday night to get yourself as aroused as you can. Watch pornography, read erotica, touch yourself. But don’t try to actually achieve an orgasm. If you simply-

You toss your phone on the couch beside you and huff. Fuck. He really wrote you a whole essay, huh? Did he do this for every customer, for every appointment? He had said he took his job seriously. You just didn’t realize it was to this degree. Hopefully he was as thorough in the practical side of his job as he was in the administration.

Later that night, you decided to treat yourself to a hot bath. Relaxing in the perfumed waters, you lazily bring a hand down to rest between your legs. As Doctor Kim said, he didn’t know whether you were still trying to get yourself off or not, but in reality, it varied greatly. Some evenings you'd spent hours, with aching wrists and tears of frustration, to no avail. Other days you gave up completely and wallowed in your sexual frustration, haplessly grinding against a pillow between your legs for the minimal relief it provided.

But you had re-read over the notice a couple of times, and it was clear that Doctor Kim didn’t want you cumming tonight. Just getting a little riled up in the hopes that your body would be more desperate to cum tomorrow.

Water always gives a weird kind of friction, so it’s somewhat of a hassle trying to rub at your clit, but once you settle into a natural rhythm, you close your eyes and lean back until the water laps over your shoulders. You hitch a leg up over the side of the tub and let out a deep breath.

It always started out nice. You’d get a false sense of hope, that the flicker of pleasure would ignite into anything more than a low smolder, but it never did. Although, this time, knowing full well that cumming isn’t a goal, you find yourself enjoying the relaxing stimulation for its face value. You knead lazily at your breast, rolling a nipple between your fingers as your other hand continues its circling motions. Gradually, your mind naturally begins to float, and a scene begins to materialize in your imagination: in your mind’s eye, your fingers are replaced by much larger and thicker ones, and instead of the grazing of your fingernail it was teeth latching around your nipple, tugging lightly to make your toes curl. Fingering yourself is generally a fruitless endeavor, but you can’t help but clench, longing to be filled by him.

Him… Whether by the context of your relationship, or genuine attraction, it’s Doctor Kim Namjoon that fills your thoughts, the way the water would stain his button-up sleeves rolled up to the elbow, but not quite high enough to avoid the sloshing of water.  You hear the scribble of a ballpoint on that clipboard, like he’s taking note of your reactions, like you’re something to be studied and analyzed.

Below the water level, you grind your hips into your hand, rubbing yourself with the flats of four of your fingers know in an effort to increase the surface area. One of your nipples is flushed from being pinched and tugged at, so you clumsily cross your arm over to the other side, whining into the damp air of your bathroom once you begin repeating your ministrations. You should probably open a window. The vents aren’t great and the last thing you need is a moldy ceiling. 

You grunt low in your throat, shaking your head. You can worry about that later, dammit. With added vigor, you press at your clit, biting down on your lip to try and out all your focus into going faster and harder. Only it doesn’t feel as good as before. 

Where was I? Doctor Kim’s arms. Maybe he’d forgo the button-down shirt completely and decide to strip down, getting into the tub with you, wrapping his arms over your front and pulling you down onto him. You huff, furrowing your eyebrows, holding onto your breath, feeling that pleasure slip away from you. Come on, imagine him fingering you or something, what’s wrong with you, he’s hot! That smile, the thick thighs straining under pants material. Not long before you’d see him again, tomorrow night. It was strange that he worked nights, though you supposed considering his job it made sense that people might prefer-

“Fuck!” Your hands have come to a halt, too distracted to continue, and that slow burning of pleasure in your gut has been extinguished as if from the now-lukewarm water you sit in. You let out a frustrated cry and kick out with the leg that’s still in the water, splashing water up the wall in front. “Fuck off! Are you serious?” You force yourself to take a deep breath and tamp down your rising frustration. The kind doctor had told you not to cum, so it was probably for the best that you didn’t get too into it. Still, it’s irritating you that even the thought of a… a sex professional getting you off isn’t enough to actually get you off. You huff, picking up the bar of soap off its dish, and begin to lather yourself up. “Good luck, Doctor Kim,” you mutter.

--

Surprisingly, you sleep well and have a productive morning. Missing the morning traffic and arriving at a quiet office lifts your mood, and you have just enough work to remain mentally and physically occupied. In fact, you’re sure you would’ve spent your whole day in this calm working mentality, were it not for the phone call that comes just after midday.

Most of the office is out on their lunch break. Only a few of you hang around this time; you know others just prefer to eat earlier or later, but you actively hang around because you appreciate the chance for some peace and quiet. That tranquility is broken by the aggressive buzzing of your phone on your desk. Anticipating a call from a client later on, you figure they’re just phoning in a little early, and you answer it without checking the number.

“Y/n L/n speaking,” you rattle off automatically, “how may I help?”

A low chuckle on the other end gives you pause. It certainly doesn’t sound like the retired seamstress you were expecting to hear. “Did you give me your work phone number, little miss?”

A shot of electricity shoots up your spine and you sit bolt upright in your office chair, instinctively glancing around the five or six people milling about the office floor. “Doctor Kim,” you reply in a low voice.

“Correct. Have you suddenly entered a library or is there another reason you’ve gone all quiet?” His voice is lilting with amusement and you can almost picture him sitting back in his office chair, dimple sticking out as he grins.

Your fingers curl around your phone, and you use your other hand to cup over your mouth, leaning forward over your desk. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to call,” you reply honestly, “is there a problem?”

“Of course not. My clinic has a policy of always giving a reminder call the day of or before the appointment.”

You pout. “Oh.” Somehow, the fact that he calls everyone makes you feel something akin to disappointment. “Shouldn’t your receptionist do stuff like that?”

“Would you prefer I put Sandra on the phone?”

“No,” you blurt out reflexively. The doctor rewards your honesty with a breathy chuckle. You press your knees together and clench your thighs. “So, just a reminder then? Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. Thanks for the call, though.”

“You haven’t?” You can hear the teasing smile in his voice, and it affects you more than you care to admit. “You’ve been thinking about it, then? Have you been trying to guess what I have in store for you? What I’m going to do to you?”

You clear your throat awkwardly, sensing the conversation taking a decidedly sexual turn. “I’ve been trying to focus on my work, actually. Like your message said.”

“Ah, that’s good. Did you take the afternoon off like I suggest, or are you just on your lunch break?”

You barely hear him speak, your heart skipping a beat when a crowd of some of the older employees starts filing back in. Fuck. 12:32pm. People were going to start getting back to work now, you couldn’t be on the phone with a sex therapist. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”

He pauses for a moment. “Are you still at work?”

You clear your throat, ducking your head as one of your superiors walks past. “Uh, yes, sir. Will that be all?”

He chuckles, though it’s more a sharp exhale through his nose, slightly crackly through the receiver. “Spending company time talking to the man who will fuck your brains out tonight?” You cringe at how loud he speaks, mind going blank with shock. You can’t find your voice to reply, though you have no idea what you would even say. He listens to you splutter for a few moments, your lack of response an answer in itself. “Naughty girl,” he chastises. “What would your coworkers think if they knew who you were talking to? I bet you wish you weren’t at work right now so you could just slip a hand into your panties, isn’t that right?” You bite down hard on your lip, using the ruse of sliding your office chair further in as cover for rubbing your core against the seat for some relief. “Come on, Y/n,” Doctor Kim’s voice echoes in your ear, “what did we say about yes-no questions?”

“Yes, sir,” you make out through a tense jaw, hoping your voice sounds as bright and customer-friendly as it normally would be with anyone else, even as your thighs clench together. “My office hours are 8:30am to 4:30pm Monday to Friday.”

“Oh?” His laugh bubbles through your phone and makes you absentmindedly start scrunching up a scrap bit of paper on your desk. He was enjoying this. “So, you’re there for a while still, hm? I wonder if you can make it until 4:30pm or if you’ll have to sneak into the bathroom and get some relief. It’s a shame I can’t stay on the line; I’d have loved to hear you moan over the phone, unable to keep quiet as you touch yourself. Oh well. I’ll make you moan for me later tonight.”

You slowly slip your hand down, tucking it between your legs and shifting your hips slowly beneath your desk, grinding against the delicate bones of your wrist for some friction. “The, uh, the appointment is confirmed, sir, thank you. Is there anything else I can help you with before I go?”

You hear a pen clicking, and some hurried strokes against paper in the background. The thought that, like your fantasy last night, he was writing down notes on all your reactions and desires, brought a rush of heat between your legs. You can feel the fabric of your panties, wet through to the outside of the fabric and dampening the skin of your arm. Oh god. “That will be all, Ms. Y/n. I look forward to our appointment tonight very much. Don’t forget to drink enough water to prepare for the fluids you’ll be depleting in our session. Have a splendid day.”

All the energy leaves you the moment the line goes dead, and your top half slumps forward onto the desk. You pull your arm out from between your legs, rubbing away the slippery patch on the side of your wrist before anyone can see it. You didn’t think you were going to get much work done for the rest of the day.

--

 “Are you nervous?”

You lift your gaze from your trembling hands to the man sitting across from you. The two of you were the only ones in the cosy waiting room you had been led to. It was something halfway between a bedroom and a spa, with a great long bed covered in cushions and blankets, a bench laden with food and drink, and several diffusers spraying gently perfumed mist into the air.

The stranger was there when you had arrived moments prior. A green silk robe loosely tied around his waist was the only thing he was wearing as he lounged on the bed, lazily scrolling through his phone, black hair curled and damp, sticking haphazardly to his temples and cheekbones. He had watched you in mild curiosity as you walked in and stiffly sat down on a cosy armchair, and didn’t take a moment before initiating conversation.

He looks at you now with an expectant glimmer. You recall the question and flick him a shy smile. “Mm. First time,” you explain with a sheepish shrug. You let your gaze linger on his attire. “Are you...waiting to go in, too?”

His brows lift in surprise, along with a toothy grin. “Oh, no! I just got out of my sesh with the doc. This is just the whole aftercare shtick. I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he adds with a jaunty wave of his hand.

His languid ease has you relaxing a little, and you crack a smile. “I’m Y/n. So, how many times have you come here exactly? I thought surely once he fixed you, you’d be fine?”

The corner of his mouth quirks. He tosses his phone carelessly onto the bedcovers and sits up a little, the robe falling open to reveal his chest, all defined muscle and tanned skin, glimmering with a sheen of sweat. "Hey, that's what I thought. But honestly? This shit's addictive. I work an extra ten hour shift every week now to afford one hour of bliss. I think I may be in love with him. Or at least, I'm definitely in love with his mouth."

Your eyes drop to the thick carpet as you flush with the mental image that provides, but you can't help but glance back up out of curiosity as his words sink in. "Wait, his mouth? I thought he was meant to just..."

"Jerk people off? I mean, sure, he can do that, but the doc tends to mix it up. With how packed his schedule is, he'd probably get fucking carpal tunnel or some shit if he just jacked his patients off all day. He's a pretty creative dude when it comes to this, you know?" He breaks off with a faraway smile. "Actually, I consider myself a bit of an innovator, too. One time I had this letter opener, right, and-"

"Mister Jeon," an unimpressed voice drawls from behind you, "please refrain from accosting my clients with your sexual history. I am sure they don't find it as enlightening as you do."

You whirl around, heart immediately returning to its aggressive thudding, palms dampening in moments. Standing in the doorway, in a three-piece suit, is Doctor Kim Namjoon, one leg crossed over the other as he tucks a hand into his pants pocket. It's a vast difference from the simple shirt and pants combo he had on when you last saw him, and it seems he takes note of your startled reaction.

"It's casual Friday," he jokes with an easygoing grin, and it only strikes you then, as his eyes lock with yours, that you're about to have sex with this man. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but you'd be leaving this building feeling fully fucked out if all went well. Your nerves return with a vengeance, and his face softens. "Come on inside, Y/n."

A scoff tears your attention from the doctor. "Oh, so I'm Mister Jeon, but she's Y/n?"

Doctor Kim's jaw ticks, though it's bemusement rather than anger on his face. "Would you like me to call you Y/n?"

Jungkook pouts, picking at a loose thread on his robe petulantly. "No." He pouts deeply, looking up at the older man reproachfully. "If you keep being mean to me I won't come back anymore."

The doctor nods patiently like he's heard it a thousand times. "I'll see you next Friday, Jungkook. Do well on your bio exam next week and I might just show you how mean I can really be."

Jungkook's face clears and his eyes gleam. Without speaking, he simply gets up and jogs over to the little set of lockers by the exit, gathering his belongings. Doctor Kim doesn't spare him any more attention, and simply gestures for you to follow him.

You make your way down a dimly-lit corridor with wobbly legs, trying not to stare at the way his pants strained around his behind with every stride he took. Although there’s a distant wisp of relaxing piano emanating from the waiting room, the silence is unbearable. 

“So,” you blurt, cringing at how loud your voice sounds in the stillness of the corridor, “what do you have planned?”

“Well, if Jungkook inspired you, I did bring along a letter opener,” the doctor calls out pleasantly, tilting his head, though he doesn’t turn to look at you.

Your step falters uncertainly. “Oh, I don’t…” You watch in dawning realization as he stops in front of a closed door and swivels, face scrunched up with delight as his shoulders shake silently. Although it was a dig at your naivety, you can’t help but crack a smile at him. “Aren’t doctors meant to be nice to their patients?”

He fumbles in his pockets, producing a keycard to scan at the entrance. Once it’s opened, he holds it there and turns to you expectantly. As you catch up to him and slip through the opened door, you can’t help but brush past his chest with your shoulder, breathing in his soothing scent of raspberry and vanilla. You hadn’t expected him to smell so...sweet.

You hear the door click shut behind you, self-locking, and that layer of security reassures you. Your attention, however, is quickly caught by the contents of the room itself. 

It’s this disconcerting mix of a massage room, a doctor’s office, and a sex dungeon, and your head whirls as Doctor Kim preoccupies himself with messing with the heatpump settings on the far wall. 

In the centre of the room is a traditional massage table, lowered to around the height of his hips, covered in a lush-looking slate grey towel. You figured the usual white wouldn’t fare so well with his line of work. Two of the walls make great use of shelves and cabinets, and you can’t help but be bewildered at the strange way they’re organised. A man like him surely had a system to keep everything in track, but dildos were beside bottles of massage oil and ropes, and a collection of gags and leashes hanging from hooks dangled above a little pyramid of neatly rolled towels and a steaming metal bowl of warm water. 

“Please, take a seat anywhere you feel comfortable.” 

You jerk out of your gaping stare and clear your throat awkwardly, moving to take a seat on a little wooden stool that sat in the corner of the room in front of a small dresser covered in props like handcuffs, some blindfolds and, strangely, a black ski mask with eye and mouth holes cut out. The image of the friendly doctor fucking someone in a full burglar outfit makes you snort out a laugh before you have the time to clap your hand over your mouth. 

You press your lips together with a muffled giggle as the man himself flattens a stare. 

“Is my job funny to you?” 

Your smile drops as you recognise the change in his tone. Gone is the somewhat clumsy, joke-cracking doctor. Now he’s in his role. The session has begun. “No,” you deny weakly.

His deft fingers gravitate to the buttons holding his suit jacket together, and you feel the room become hotter as he walks the perimeter of the room slowly, eying up all the offerings he has to play with while he slips off the expensive material. Hanging the jacket on a coat rack beside the black cape and what looks like priests’ robes that already reside there, he turns on a heel to face you. His eyebrows are low, narrowing his eyes, but you can see the dark heat that radiates off him. You tuck your knees together. God, he’s good and he hasn’t even done anything. “My profession isn’t something to be laughed at,” he chastises lowly. “We had this problem the other day, didn’t we? With you not taking this seriously. It’s disappointing, Y/n.” 

Your heart thuds uncertainly in your chest. The natural instinct to get upset from being told off mixes with the warmth building between your legs. “Sorry,” you offer up, voice lifting at the end like it’s a question. 

He’s on the other side of the room to you. You wish he were closer, though now that he’s unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and beginning to roll the sleeves, eyes locked on your hunched-over form with an unreadable look, you don’t know that you could handle it. “No, you aren’t,” he brushes off, “and it’s very important that in this next 90 minutes, you only say things you absolutely mean. Understand?”

You take a steadying breath, feeling it expand your chest. “Yeah. I understand. It’s just… a lot. I’ve never done this, and I don’t know what’s going to happen, and-”

The tension disappears from his jaw and his eyes soften. In mere moments, he’s crossed the room in strides to crouch in front of you, catching your lowered gaze. “Woah, settle. First of all, everyone starts somewhere, so don’t feel anxious. Secondly, how many times have you had sex and known exactly what was going to happen in advance?”

His palms are warm and grounding as they gently rest, wrapped around your calves. You breath deeply again, appreciating this break in character. “I… But we’re not having sex though, right? This is, I don’t know,” you shrug futilely, “different.”

He returns your shrug, but with a far more carefree attitude. “It doesn’t have to be.” As he talks, his grip tightens a little on your calves, gently pressing into the tensed muscle. You find yourself relaxing without noticing, going lax in his touch, as non-sexual as it may be. “But, for the most part, people that come here do want it to be different. More exciting, more taboo, more intense. You need to communicate with me now. Do you want me to go easy on you, or do you want me to be thorough?”

Your mouth goes dry. With his hands on you, with the room you’re in, with the way his eyes linger heavy on yours, the word makes your toes curl. “Thorough,” you croak out.

He searches your face once more, then a slow grin spreads across his. “Excellent. Then get up on the massage table.”

He stands up; the lack of his touch on your legs makes you shiver. You follow him over, feeling your palms damp with nervous sweat. “On my front, or…?”

“Just sit on it for now, baby.” His eyes are alight with mirth when you blush at the petname, but he’s quickly snapping back into that dominant role, jaw muscles popping out as he watches you get up, facing him as your legs dangle in the air, not quite reaching the ground. You wait for him to get closer to you, but he ticks an eyebrow in affirmation and turns abruptly, stalking across the room to a tall, thin cupboard. He reaches in without speaking, and when he turns, in his hands he carries a vibrator in his hand, a relatively friendly-looking, gold bullet that looks rather small in his hand. 

You think you recognise the brand, and if you’re right, it’s unbelievably high end. As he makes his way over to you, his gaze drops to your legs, which you’ve begun absentmindedly swinging back and forth. “Cute,” he remarks with a small sneer, and you abruptly stop, embarrassed at the childish action. “Don’t be so shy,” he advises, “I plan on hearing you scream for me tonight at some point or another. These walls are soundproof, you know. Every little sound you make will only be heard by me. Now spread those pretty legs.”

Suddenly, even though arousal steadily rocks through you, your legs lock up and you go stiff. The room is being pumped with warm air and yet your skin breaks out in goosebumps. 

The doctor notices this, of course he does, and fiddles with the bullet, flipping it over and over in his palm as he makes his way back to you, stopping when his upper thighs brush against your knees. “What’s wrong? Second thoughts?”

You shake your head hastily, though you’re no less tense. “Just- just really nervous.”

His eyes warm in sympathy. “Hm, that’s no good. I can’t get you to cum with your legs shut tighter than a vice.” A quirk of a smile. “Well, I could, but we don’t have time for that today. So, let’s help you relax.” His free hand reaches up to brush against your shoulder. Even though he’s fully clothed as well, you still feel strange still wearing the large sweater and leggings you had arrived in. The fabric feels itchy on your skin, and you yearn for his palm to warm your skin instead of your sweater.

He lets out a breathy laugh as his hand rubs slowly up and down your upper arm. “God, look at you,” he marvels, “I’ve never seen someone so stressed still look so beautiful.” You manage to crack a reluctant smile, cheeks heating. He places the golden bullet vibe on the towel beside you, and pats your knee warmly. “Would it help if I kissed you?”

Your mouth drops open a little. You have to swallow away the dryness. With eyes unable to leave his perfect lips, you nod. 

“Good, I can do that,” he soothes, “can you part your legs for me so I can get a little closer?”

The moment you shakily do as he asks, his hips are pressing against your thighs, pushing them wider still. You hastily dart your lips out to wet them, but he’s in no rush. The doctor slips a hand into your hair, brushing it off your face with fondly gleaming eyes. 

It’s an expression you’ve never seen someone look at you with before, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy that it’s anything more than acting. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs softly, before pressing lightly on the back of your head so that you straightened up to meet him halfway. You sigh into him when your lips touch, unbelievably soft yet insistent as they move against you. 

He’s clearly experienced; you quiver inside with every movement, and he barely moves at all, drawing out the languid embrace. Your jaw falls slack, and you let yourself be guided by him, following his patient lead. 

The room itself is quiet, and you can hear the way he lets out the smallest of grunts, delicate sounds of affirmation as you part your lips and feel the very tip of his tongue swipe against your lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and tugging it lightly, chuckling when you let out a throaty whimper.

“Do you feel better now? Hm?”

He pulls away but your eyes stay shut, your whole body stretched up towards him. You nod, licking over your slightly swollen lips, humming in agreement. You smile dopily when he caresses your face, leaning into his touch, as his silken voice reaches your ears. “Are you ready to play?”

Your breath leaves you in one shuddering gasp. “Yeah,” you whine pleafully, eyes slowly slipping back open. 

He’s standing over you, closer than you realised. Only a mere few centimetres rest between his crotch and your spread legs. Still, he uses that space to dip his hand down, brushing the back of it between your thighs, knuckles pressing teasingly lightly over your clothed core. “I bet you want these pants off, huh? You wanna take ‘em off for me?”

You nod obediently, kicking off your shoes before you wiggle your leggings and underwear off your hips awkwardly, lifting your legs up onto the bench to tug them off your ankles. Doctor Kim takes them and places them in the corner of the room by the door, and by the time he comes back, you’ve crossed your legs, leaning forward so that your sweater hem covers your naked center. 

His eyes fall down to that dip in the hem, darkening. His fingers come up to lazily tug at his tie, loosening it and undoing his top shirt button so that the white pressed fabric parts, revealing a golden upper chest. “You sure seem to like that, don’t you?”

You frown. “Like what?”

“Acting innocent like that.” He’s in front of you again, hands immediately wrapping around your thighs, and the touch is electric, making you more aware of how naked you are. “There won’t be any of that innocence left when I’m done with you,” he promises lowly, before bending down to capture your lips again.

You let yourself be taken over by him, drunk on the arousal that glows warm within you. The heat your own body is enough that you don’t notice the missing presence of a palm resting on your inner thigh, until your sweater is shifting and something ice cold is slipping between your folds.

You hiss in a breath and jerk in his grasp, causing him to shush you, lips still firmly attached to you, though they leave your mouth and migrate southward, nibbling along your jawline up to your ear. “The vibrator,” he explains gruffly, “I’m going to turn it on. Just relax.”

Your legs shift, ankles uncrossing slightly so that you’re more open to him, though you can’t bear to open your eyes, trying to stop the nerves from getting to you. 

The moment he turns it on your back arches from the immediate shockwave of pleasure that radiates from that tiny yet strong vibe held directly against your clit. You swallow your moan, breathing heavily through your nose as you fight to keep quiet, letting the mechanic buzz fill the silence instead. 

“Is it good?” the doctor questions, making you tremble as his lips dip lower, brushing over the column of your neck with just the slightest hint of tongue. You nod feverishingly, attempting to push your pelvis forward for more of it, rocking your hips in small circles to increase the surface area. The hand still on your thigh tightens, and you open your eyes blearily at the grip. Doctor Kim’s eyes are hard. “It doesn’t sound like it,” he comments flatly, turning up the vibe to a higher setting, making your mouth drop silently open.

“It is good,” you force out, beginning to pant.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I know you want to moan for me, baby. Let me hear you lose control.”

You whine through a closed mouth, eyes screwing shut again in focus as he lets you chase your own please. How could he seriously expect you to moan in front of him? He was basically a stranger, and although the way he pinned your thigh spread for him, holding a sex toy to you as you got off on it was hot, you were still in a room alone with him on a Friday evening, paying for him to bring you to orgasm. He was probably just staring at you, waiting for you to hurry up and come already.

“Stop thinking, Y/n,” he chastises, “stay in the room.” You shake your head, wishing you could, but it’s too late. The weirdness of the situation hits you, and you open your eyes, searching for a clock on the wall.

The price of this 90-hour appointment was practically highway robbery, and all he was doing was something you could’ve done yourself at home. And as your eyes coast around the room and the curve of your spine settles, you realize that what’s worst of all is that he won’t even be able to do it. You’ve lost that thread, the one that leads you over the edge, and he won’t have time to get it back before-

You shoot up straight when a stinging slap lands on your thigh. You gape at the man in front of you in shock, hand instinctively going to the pinkened flesh to soothe it. “Ow!”

You realize belatedly he’d turned off the vibe, now holding it between two fingers and a thumb. It’s shining with your slick, but less than you’d have expected by this point, and he sighs in disappointment and tosses it onto the towel beside you.

You suddenly feel, as he cocks an unimpressed eyebrow and tenses his jaw, like you’re a child being scolded for breaking a vase or skipping class. Your legs tighten up together, and you gather a fistful of sweater fabric in your hand, pushing it down to cover yourself. 

“You know why I stopped?”

You nod shamefully, eyes dropping to the carpet below. “You couldn’t do it. There’s something wrong with me, I guess. Sorry for wasting your time.”

He pauses for a long moment. You almost glance up out of curiosity but can’t stand to see the look of disapproval that no doubt resides in his eyes. “No, Y/n,” he explains tiredly, “I can see clearly now that your problem is that you’re too in your own head, and no amount of stimulation can break through an unwilling mind. So, like any good doctor, if something isn’t working for one of my patients then I stop and reassess. What was on your mind?”

You breathe out heavily, not wanting to have to sit and talk about feelings, but he’s not satisfied when you shrug, simply pulling up a stool and waiting for your answer. 

Your mouth tightens and you stare at the ceiling. “I just feel stupid,” you admit finally, “like… you’re just standing there waiting for me to cum and I’m just… not. I don’t know.”

Out of your peripheral, you see him nod slowly, processing your words. “Well, no wonder it wasn’t working. You feel pressured to cum.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look back over to him. “Well, yeah, that’s the whole point of this session.”

He just opens his palms out in a shrug. “Of course, we had booked it in for that, but that’s not my only job as a sex therapist. I have clients that come to learn how to better pleasure a partner, clients that want to explore their kinkier sides without judgement, clients that perhaps are wanting to indulge in something that could potentially be dangerous and want a professional to spot them. I’ve had couples come in and have sex with my supervision because they’re trying something new and are concerned about injury. My point is, not everybody comes here for me to simply bring them to orgasm and go.”

You shake your head quickly. “Oh, I wasn’t- I wasn’t trying to say that your job was just-”

“I know, I know,” he soothes, “I just want you to know that sessions with me aren’t a complete failure if the client doesn’t orgasm. Perhaps you need a little more trust and we can work up to it.”

You bite your lip, uncertain. “I can’t really afford a bunch of sessions like that other dude. If you can’t do it today, I’ll just go-”

“How about this?” The doctor rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. With the nearly see-through white shirt rolled up to the elbows, a slackened tie, and straining pants, he strikes a powerful image. “If you promise me to come back, I’ll give you the next session for free. Since you came here expecting to be brought to orgasm, we can call it fair compensation. Today you won’t orgasm. Sound fair?”

You relax a little as you perch on the massage bed. “Okay… But what would we even do then?”

“Like I said, orgasming isn’t the only thing I offer. You mentioned earlier you felt uncomfortable with me waiting for you to come, is that right?” You nod slowly. “Well, perhaps if you didn’t feel that I was expecting anything from you, you could relax more.”

“I don’t understand,” you admit, trailing off. 

“Stand up, I have something for you.”

You do so immediately, needing to use the massage bed for support as your knees buckle slightly. The doctor slips a hand under his waistband slightly, drawing your gaze lower to his crotch, where a bulge strains against the fabric. 

“I think you would benefit from focussing on yourself a little less,” you hear him say as his hands pop open his pants, dipping into his underwear to pull his straining cock loose, “and focus on me a little more. Do you see how horny you made me, grinding on that vibrator?”

Your eyes widen. You watch his hand, defined by thick veins and delicate bones, stroke himself, a thumb dragging over the slit to spread the beads of precum that were produced. “Is this what you have for me?” you question in confusion.

He laughs. “No, although I do love the way you’re looking at it like a three-course meal. Eyes up,” he commands with a bite of humor in his voice. You hastily obey, and his warm eyes crinkle as he jerks his head to the side. “Let’s go; we’re changing location.”

You frown. “Sorry, what? Changing to where?”

You watch in wonder as he casually strides over to a bookshelf near the far corner of the room, clothes disheveled and leaking cock still in hand. What you had failed to notice when entering the room was a sliding door just past it, the same unassuming wood finish as the shelves. He slides it open, removing the hand from around his dick to wave you through. 

Tugging on the hem of your baggy sweater to attempt to cover yourself - though you weren’t sure there was anything of you left to hide - you let him lead you through the small opening into a far darker room. You squint, eyes adjusting, and slowly the gentle light of several flickering candles is enough to see by. They’re scattered around the room, and you notice soon enough that they’re all electric. 

“Safety hazard,” the doctor explains. “Me, not the candles.” The rest of the room, in a hazy warm glow, is outfitted in a very different vibe from the previous one. Instead of containing all the erotic bells and whistles, this room could be easily mistaken for a honeymoon suite. On the outskirts are a bar fridge, a few armchairs, and a coffee table, but the main event is the gigantuan bed that takes up almost all the floor space, even more lushly covered with blankets and pillows than the one you had seen in the waiting room. 

“Far out,” you breathe, “this is impressive.”

With a rakish grin, he remarks, “what? The purpose-built sex room didn’t do it for you?” Doctor Kim gently slides the door shut behind the two of you, making his way over to a small bluetooth speaker resting on the coffee table. “I had suspected when you responded so well to that kiss that you might be the type to need a comforting environment to keep you in the moment.” He fiddles with the settings, slipping a phone out from his back trouser pocket to select some gentle instrumental song with a muted beat and hypnotic melody. “I’d like to propose a roleplay scenario.”

You bite your lip. “Don’t we… There can’t be much time left of my appointment now, right?”

“Don’t worry about that.” You’re not convinced. He gives you a warm smile, leaning against the arm of the chair. “My next slot is empty. How about we let you book out that one as your compensated session? As far as that pretty little head of yours is concerned, we have all the time in the world. Now: roleplay. Have you done it before?”

You shrug awkwardly. “Not really. I’m not a good actor or anything.”

He shakes his head. You appreciate the way the flickering lights play with shadows over the planes of his face, his neck. “This isn’t the Oscars. And it’s not going to be anything difficult. I was thinking perhaps an anniversary date night. We rented out a fancy hotel room to celebrate. We’ve hand some drinks from the mini fridge,” he waves a hand towards the aforementioned appliance, “and now that the evening is drawing to a close, we’re going to share each other’s company on a more… intimate level.”

You take a deep breath and nod slowly. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you, Doctor Kim, I appreciate your-”

“Shh, baby,” he soothes, pushing off from the armchair to stroll over to you. He waits until he’s in front of you, hands cupping your face tenderly and looking deeply into your eyes, before he continues. “We’re married; this is our anniversary night, remember? I want you to call me Namjoon.”

“Namjoon,” you repeat dreamily, blinking up at him. In the dim lighting, he looks even softer than before. There’s no tension in his face, and his rumpled clothing looks awfully… domestic. 

His eyes turn up at the edges with his smile. You feel safe yet weirdly vulnerable with your face in his hands and his gaze deeply focused on you. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

You nod eagerly, just about pushing his hands off you, and his lips quirk up. Without any further words needed, he ducks his head down and slants his mouth across yours, reigniting that flush of want inside you. One of his hands slides around into your hair, playing with it lightly, and the other presses on your jaw, tilting your head back so that he can deepen the kiss. You whimper when you feel his tongue make contact with yours, teasingly swirling inside your mouth, and your hand flies up to curl around his wrist, needing to anchor yourself to him as much as possible.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his body against yours. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me?”

You pause, feeling his lips keep moving against you, nibbling at your bottom lip when you don’t answer. “Y-yeah.”

“Yeah? You don’t sound like you miss me.” He laughs breathily, taking his hands away from your face. One links up with yours, squeezing your fingers reassuringly, and the other snakes around your back to hold you even tighter against him. “I wanna show you.”

Your eyes flutter uncertainly, so overwhelmed by the sensual kisses he gave you that you only process what he says belatedly. “Huh? Show me what?”

“How much I missed you,” he replies, the arm around your back sliding lower until it’s slipping under your sweater hem to grasp at the flesh of your ass. You tremble, knees going weak. He leans down to your ear, dragging his spit-slicked lips your face like he can’t bear to part with it. His voice is like honey in your ear, whispering in between teasing nips at your earlobe. “Can I show you how much I missed you?”

“Please, show me,” you plead, not even sure what he means by that, but letting him walk you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed. He lays you down gently, rubbing soothing circles over your naked flesh. You gasp with anticipation when he drops to his knees in front of your legs, pushing your knees apart to slip in between. 

The bed is comfortable and the room is perfectly tiered for a romantic environment. You try and keep yourself grounded, letting yourself drink in the sensation of his hands on you. 

“Can you scoot forward a little for me? Legs over my shoulders.” Namjoon’s instructions are easy to comprehend but harder than expected to execute. Your body feels a little dead, and you shuffle your butt lower, thigh muscles complaining when you lift them up. He helps you, hands on the backs of your knees to hook them up onto himself. “You look so beautiful, spread out for me. Will you let me have a little taste?”

If orgasms weren’t so hard to come by, you’re sure you would’ve come from that statement alone. You make a whined noise of agreement, shuffling your shoulders down the bed so that you can arch your back a little more, needing to feel him. 

With palms sliding up to wrap around and hold down your thighs, the doctor gives you no other warning before he descends on you, slurping noisily against your center. Your mouth drops open and you clench around nothing automatically, simultaneously embarrassed by the loud sound and turned out by his enthusiasm.

He wastes no time in teasing, instead devouring you like a starved man, putting everything into it. Your brain has no time to process the sensations your nerves are being assaulted with; his tongue is inside you and his nose is bumping your clit, then he moves up to wrap his lips around that little bud with a demanding suck, slicking his chin with your wetness. He changes from place to place, never the same speed or intensity. If your lack of orgasms are like a failing heart, Namjoon going down on you is the defibrillator, the shock to your system that you needed.

Your fingers clench tightly onto his hand, moaned-out sighs and shuddering muscles the only sign your body is able to give that he’s doing well. In the back of your lust-addled mind, you feel a single finger slip between your folds, passing over your center to collect wetness before dipping inside. You clench at the intrusion, feeling him groan against you at your tightness. 

He crooks that finger, slowly thrusting it in and out like he has all the time in the world, and you whine, mouth dangling open and drooling, eyes clenched tightly shut. With its proven success, it’s not long before that one finger becomes two, and he has you writhing on the bed. 

You whimper when he gives your clit a final flat drag of his tongue before lifting his head up again, continuing to work his fingers inside you. “When was the last time I got to make you feel this good, huh? It’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

Your body curls in and you keen as a third finger joins the other two, beginning to provide more of a tight fit, preparing your inner muscles for what was to come. You realize he asked you a question and force your tongue to form words. “I, ah, I can’t think,” you blabber out in a slur.

“Good.” And with that, his mouth is on you again, this time with renewed vigor. When he speaks again, he doesn’t even bother removing his lips from you, lapping at your clit between words. “I want to see you fall apart on my tongue, baby,” he confesses, “gush all over my fingers.”

Like a train hitting you, you feel your nerves deep inside shortcircuit at his words, and you let out a little scream when an orgasm abruptly hits, your legs closing to tighten like a vice around his head as he works you through it, speeding up his tongue and grinding against that rough patch inside you with his fingers as your pussy locks up. Your muscles push against the intrusion, though he refuses to let up as violent tremors wrack your body and leave you shuddering hopelessly under his ministrations.

You don’t realize until wetness hits your temple and slips past your hairline that you’re crying, but when you press a shaky hand against your eyes, they’re soaked with tears. The fact that you’re crying, as well as finally achieving the orgasm that was feeling more and more impossible, just makes your lip tremble harder until you’re sobbing against your hand, beyond overwhelmed.

Your legs are taken off his shoulders without ceremony. They flop limply over the edge of the bed. “Hey, hey,” Namjoon’s voice is concerned, though not surprised or frantic, and you suppose he must deal with this often, “you did it. I’m so proud of you. Do you want me to get you some water, or stay here with you?”

“Stay,” you plead brokenly, voice breaking even on the one syllable. He acquiesces, crawling up on the bed to lie beside you, rubbing your shoulder. You feel yourself calm down slowly with his presence, letting out one shaky exhale. “Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” the doctor jibes. “I don’t mean to be crude, but the way you came like that? It was fucking hot. Shit, I’m harder than a rock right now.”

You laugh breathily, sniffing and wiping away your tears. “I can help with that if you want.”

He swears under his breath. “You can’t say stuff like that. Sex with patients is where I draw the line, and as much as I’m hating that rule right now, I need to keep at least an inch of professionalism here.”

You turn to face him, propping your head up on your hand. “I regret to inform you, Doctor Kim, but I won’t be needing your services after this session. There; now I’m not your patient anymore.”

You watch his pupils dilate, eyebrows narrowing. In mere moments, the more dominant personality from earlier has been brought out again. “Well, then. I’m not going to fuck your tired little pussy, because I’ve worn it out for the day. So if you’d like to give me a helping hand, you better get on your knees.”

#btssmutclub #thekimlinenet #smutcentralnet #knj smut #namjoon x reader smut #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts x reader smut #namjoon oneshot #namjoon fic #dom namjoon

[coccinelle-et-chaton]

Chapter 6 of The Wall Between Us is up, fam

This is the one where shit hits the fan. 

You can read from the start here or go below the cut for the entire chapter.  Enjoy the tears >:)

Fic summary:  Marinette is left to pick up the pieces after losing her chance with Adrien and having Master Fu give up his memories to protect the Miraculous Box. She struggles to find her ground as the new Guardian, and when it all becomes too much, finds unexpected support in Luka Couffaine. Simultaneously, Adrien is learning how to navigate his emotions and slowly begins to realize important truths about his feelings for Kagami, Marinette, and Ladybug. Will Marinette and Adrien be able to sort through their feelings and do what's best for the Miraculous team?

CHAPTER 6 If it weren’t for his reflexes and his sudden kick into survival mode, he would’ve gotten hit. Adrien tumbled down to the side just in time to evade an attack from Kagami’s Akuma. He ran as fast as he could, desperately looking for a place to hide. Seeing as the neighboring shops and alleyways were flooding with civilians who were witness to the Akuma, he had to settle for the crevice between two large vans to transform.

He swiftly opened the communication device on his baton and typed and S.O.S. message to Ladybug, as well as his plan to direct the Akuma to an empty field by the riverbank. She would know which one he meant. They made a point of leading all erratic Akumas to this spot. It was in an old industrial zone where immediate damage could be minimized.

Having wrote that, he snapped the baton, clicked it back into his belt and jumped back into action.

This one’s gonna give me nightmares, Chat Noir decided as he got a better look of the Akuma. It floated hauntingly slow, crying as it hit its victims. Its fixed crying expression got more accented every time it hit a new victim. It called itself “The Griever,” and its power was to hypnotize people and give them hallucinations of their most painful memories. Chat gulped as he merely missed one of the beam attacks. He felt the energy buzzing closely to his ear.

Don’t get hit, don’t get hit!

“Hey, you, Casper!” he shouted, claiming the Akuma’s attention and effectively preventing it from claiming new victims. “Aren’t you looking for this?” He flashed his ring at the monster.

The Griever growled and charged speedily at Chat, taking him by surprise.

“Ack!” He vaulted out of the way and started leading the Akuma to the riverbank. “Hurry up, Ladybug!” he pleaded to the winds.

-----

Unaware of the show Chat Noir was putting up for the rest of Paris to see, Luka and Marinette happily sat at a riverside park, sittung under a honey locust tree and quietly enjoying the afternoon nonethewiser to the mayhem a couple blocks west of them. 

Luka’s head rested on Marinette’s lap. He sighed lazily at Marinette’s fingers, which combed softly through his hair.Marinette closed her eyes, gently placing her attention on the sound of the wind ruffling the feathery leaves of the honey locust and Luka’s steady breath.

The comfortable silence got abruptly interrupted by a sudden, constant string of wailing and crying. Both Luka and Marinette perked up as they witnessed the sight of Chat Noir frantically vaulting from rooftop to rooftop on the other side of the Seine, as a ghastly Akuma shrieked and charged after him.

The pair looked at the superhero with slightly hanging jaws and a moment of stupefaction.

“LADYBUG!” Chat Noir screamed to no one in particular, as he tried his best to outrun the Akuma.

Marinette suddenly jolted. “I, uh… I need to go to the restroom!” she said, quickly springing to her feet and rushing out of view before Luka could stop her. He couldn’t help but notice this was one of those circumstances where if he had just told her that he knew her secret, he could simply have said to not sweat it and that he’d wait for her on the Liberty.

Sadly, he hadn’t gotten around to gathering the necessary courage for that, so he was left to his luck, wondering how long it’d take for Marinette to come back.

“Ladybug, thank god!” Chat Noir exclaimed as Ladybug joined the site of the action. “Mind the beams,” he said. “If you get hit it will give you hallucinations of your worst memories. The Akuma is on the necklace.”

Ladybug made a face. “Yikes. Who hurt them?”

Chat knew the question was rhetorical, but he still felt guilty. He hoped it didn’t show.

“Lucky charm!”

“What in the world are we supposed to do with duct tape?” he complained, evidently frustrated.

For what it’s worth, Ladybug thought it was pretty straightforward.

“You distract it and I’ll charge at it. When it hits me, you destroy the necklace.”

“And the duct tape?”

“Summon your Cataclysm.”

After he did, she ripped a couple pieces and put one over Chat’s mouth and another on hers.

As she calculated, Ladybug got hit. Chat tried to focus on the task at hand instead of how much it pained him to see Ladybug cry. He managed to evade every hit from the Griever and used the fact it was ready to take Ladybug’s earrings to gingerly touch the necklace, suddenly reverting Kagami back to normal and with her, the rest of the grieving Parisians.

Ladybug released the Miraculous Cure, and everything was back to normal.

She was surprised to see Kagami on the sidewalk, still crying. It was rare for an Akuma victim to continue feeling the negative emotion that had landed them in trouble. In these cases, Chat and she stayed as long as they needed to calm down and reassure the victim.

“Hello, Kagami,” Ladybug said gently. “Can I sit with you?”

Kagami sniffed, not providing a particular answer.

“You want to talk about what’s making you so sad? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“M-my boyfriend broke up with me!” she cried. “He broke up with me even though I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Ladybug took a deep breath and gave Chat a look for some back up. She was used to dealing with Parisians in distress, but for once, she felt at a loss for words.

“I– We’re very sorry to hear that,” said Chat, softly.

Ladybug glared at him as if saying, Is that all you got?

“He-he said he doesn’t want to b-be with me because he-he doesn’t love me…”

Ladybug hissed in solidary pain. “It’s tough when people we really care about don’t–can’t feel the same we do.”

The words were as uncomfortable to her as they were for Chat. The topic was too close to the wounds in their own partnership.

“But,” she continued. “Uh… sometimes, these things happen for the best, even though we don’t realize them at first. I know it’s painful right now, but you’re a very strong girl, okay? And also, any boy you date should count himself lucky.”

Kagami sniffed, then nodded.

“Do you need us to take you anywhere?” Chat asked.

Kagami shook her head. “I… I need to be alone for a while. Thank you for rescuing me.”

She got up and left, giving the pair of superheroes no chance to insist on the offer.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear back from her again soon,” said Ladybug.

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, I should go. My, uh… boyfriend is waiting for me,” Ladybug said.

“You got a boyfriend? Why hadn’t you told me?” Chat said surprised.

“Not now, Chat,” Ladybug said with a tired tone, sensing the drama that was about to bubble up. “We–.”

“That’s great, Ladybug!” he said, surprisingly genuine. The reaction caught Ladybug off guard. “I’m happy for you.”

Ladybug gave him a quizzical look. “Thanks…”

Their Miraculous beeped simultaneously and both let go a sigh, relieved to have an excuse to end the awkward interaction.

“Well, you can tell me more about him if you want next time we meet, Chat out!”

To say he practically scrambled to get out of the way was an understatement. Ladybug sighed, deciding not to stress about whether or not Chat Noir was actually happy for her or if he had just said that to save some face. It had been a pretty draining Akuma and at this point, she couldn’t find it in herself to care whether he’d make a fuzz out of this.

It was already dark when Marinette managed to go back to the picnic site, half expecting Luka to be gone by then. Imagine her guilty surprise when she found the poor boy still sitting on the same spot she left him.

“Hey!” Luka said happily.

“Luka! I’m so sorry, there was an Akuma and I got hit and–.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a chuckle. “You could’ve just texted me. But we can do that next time we get separated by an attack.”

“Right, hah,” Marinette agreed, then muttered to herself, “Why did I not think of that?”

------

The door groaned as Alya pushed it open, immediately greeted by a cold breeze and the smell of mold, dust, and old books.

The girls lingered at the door, unadmittedly a bit scared to enter. The small townhouse seemed like it hadn’t had inhabitants in a good while. Alya pointed her flashlight into the house; it had been a gloomy day in Paris and the weak, grey light did not do much for the interior other than make it look spookier.

“I thought Master Fu lived above his massage parlor,” Alya said, gathering courage to enter the house.

“He moved here after Hawkmoth found out he was the guardian,” Marinette said, tentatively stepping in. She reached for the light switch, finding that it rewarded her illuminating the small hall and revealing the layout of the house.

They stood at the beginning of a narrow hall which led to the kitchen. To the left, there was a door leading to a living and dining hall. Right of the hall were the wooden stairs that led to the upper floor. It was hardly decorated, but it was evident something had hung on the walls; the shadow of missing frames stained the otherwise creme-colored walls with a lighter shade.

“That’s super odd,” Alya said, also going in, closing the door behind herself. She did a quick sweep of the first floor, finding there was hardly any furniture: the kitchen had a plastic table with two chairs, a stove, and a small fridge which was unplugged. The living room was completely empty except for an old, wooden vitrine which displayed assorted utensils.

She turned on the tap on the kitchen sink, finding running water.

“Didn’t Master Fu leave almost a year ago?” Alya said, rejoining Marinette, who was inspecting the contents of the vitrine.

“Yes, why?”

“How come this house still has utilities, then?”

Marinette made a confused face.

“Somebody ought to be paying for them,” Alya explained.

“He left me a letter saying that I’d find everything I need here. Let’s check the upper floor.”

The stairs creaked as the girls climbed up to find a similar set up as they had found in the floor below: A narrow hall that led to a small bathroom and two rooms to the left of the hall.

They each found what Master Fu had meant: Each room was full to the brim with boxes upon boxes of books, documents, and all sorts of trinkets, no doubt related to his affairs as a Miraculous Guardian. Curious as she was, Alya got to work immediately, aggressively combing through each box and file, reading them thoroughly, and quickly developing a system to string the story together.

“You know, sometimes it amazes me that you never figured me out,” Marinette said with a bit of a smile as she lingered by the door. “I was winging it, at best. I’ll get onto the next room.”

Marinette took a bit longer to go through her boxes. She couldn’t help but be a bit overwhelmed sometimes, learning about Master Fu’s adventures or discovering some new piece of information about the Miraculous. It didn’t help that Alya would storm in excitedly every time she discovered something particularly interesting.

“Marinette!” she exclaimed incredulously from the other room, quickly rushing in holding a set of books. “Tell me you didn’t leave an entire grimoire set literally just chilling in this sketchy neighborhood for the good part of a year.”

Marinette widened her eyes, feeling her stomach drop and swearing under her breath. “Give ‘em to me,” she said. “I’ll take them.”

How was she supposed to know Fu had all this stuff lying around when he never got around actually telling her? Her resentment towards her mentor flared up but tried not to delve too long in it.

Hours passed, the girls making good progress on the boxes, when Alya came into Marinette’s room once again. “I found it,” she declared, holding a stack of papers. “It looks like he suspected he’d stop being the Guardian soon.” Alya placed her papers on a neat row in front of Marinette. “He left an automated billing account for the next five years and it looks like he owned this house. He left this sort of transposing document for you, but it comes into effect when you turn eighteen.”

Marinette felt her throat tangle in a knot. “Oh.”

“Do you need a moment?” Alya asked gently.

Marinette shook her head, swiftly wiping the tears that were pooling in her eyes. “No, please stay.”

The quiet was suddenly disturbed by Marinette’s buzzing phone. She muted it without looking at who had called.

“He meant for me to use this place,” Marinette said.

“It looks like it, yeah.”

Master Fu thought of everything, she thought, and brushed the cover of the book that she had been inspecting before Alya came in. It was a sort of instruction manual written by Fu, for her, that she hadn’t dare open yet. For the longest time she had thought Fu left her to her own devices, that he abandoned her to sort everything alone when in reality, he had left her a trail of hints. Memories and arrangements here and there that made Marinette feel as if he was still there, correcting her when she needed to, but also reminding her she was capable of doing this.

She sniffed, shook her head, and smiled. “Then in that case, we have a lot of work to do. Let’s get this place in order.”

------

Luka did not expect Marinette to be able to hang out with him that day. He didn’t need reminding that Marinette was a very busy person and he understood why. That didn’t mean he could help himself from feeling extremely disappointed when she didn’t even check her messages the entire day.

He had invited her to a picnic with his friends that came up spontaneously, but alas, she answered back around ten p.m., when he was already back.

“I’m so sorry, Luka!” she wrote, adding a sad emoticon.

“My parents hijacked me for the entire day, they have a big order to deliver tomorrow and they needed all hands on deck.”

Except he knew that wasn’t the truth. He had dropped by the bakery that day and her parents had told Luka Marinette left early that morning to help Alya with a project, but he suspected this had only been a cover for her to do something Ladybug-related.

“It’s okay, Mari. It wasn’t important or anything, just a picnic,” he wrote back, adding a smiling emoticon. “How was your day, though?”

Marinette only saw the first message, then responded to the second a good twenty minutes later.

“It was okay. Pretty boring, just making shortcakes the whole day. You?”

“It was okay, too. Just hung out with my friends.”

Marinette saw the message but replied nothing else.

She must be busy, Luka thought, forcing himself not to feel hurt. She’s just busy, she doesn’t mean to push you away.

And yet, he couldn’t help but to text her again. “Are we still on for the date on the weekend?”

He got a reply five minutes later. “Of course!” Marinette wrote with a beaming happy face. “I’m looking forward to it, I’m very excited.”

Luka smiled at the screen, excited to see she was typing again. “I have to go to bed now, though,” she added a yawning emoticon. “I’m completely dead. I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“Okay,” Luka wrote. “Good night!”

She didn’t see the last message. As he joined Juleka to watch T.V. he realized why: there had been an Akuma attack.

He sighed, for the first time ever feeling extremely irritated at the concept of Akumas.

-----

“Are we working on the hang out this weekend?” Alya asked casually as they took notes for one of Madame Bustier’s lessons. “I’m high-key super excited for it. I was thinking of using my allowance to make it look cute, you know?”

Marinette laughed. “You don’t have to do that, Alya.”

“I know,” she complained. “But it’s so cool that we can just chill there, I wanna make it cool.”

Marinette shook her head.

“At least let me buy some fairy lights and nice cushions.”

“If you must,” Marinette said, amused. “But I can’t work on it this weekend. I promised Luka I’d spend some time with him. I haven’t seen him this whole week,” she admitted guiltily as the bell rang marking the beginning of the weekend.

“Alright girl,” she said. “Tell me about how the date goes though!”

Marinette and Alya parted ways with Marinette hurrying to her house to get ready for her date with Luka, who had asked to meet in the ship.

She didn’t expect their date to be one of their regular hangouts at the ship, so she anticipated by wearing slightly nicer clothes than usual. Still, it took her by complete surprise when she arrived and found that Luka had set up a dinner table with a beautiful flower bouquet at the center. Not only that, but he had asked his mom to teach him how to bake a quiche for her.

“Oh my gosh, Luka!” she said, unable to fight off the blush that crept on her cheeks. “It’s so beautiful! You didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, blushing himself. “I thought to do something nice since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. Do you like it?”

“Yes!” she beamed as she took a seat.

It had not been ten minutes since Marinette arrived when some sort of commotion in the distance interrupted the quiet evening, no doubt because of an Akuma. Luka sighed, doing his best to hide his reaction. As he expected, Marinette excused herself to the bathroom, leaving him to eat dinner alone.

“Please let’s make this quick, Chat,” Ladybug said as she rushed into the scene to battle the Akuma that currently destroyed the eleventh Arrondisement.

“Caught you in a bad time, LB?” Chat Noir said with a bit of a smirk as he evaded the Akuma’s attacks.

“You have no idea,” Ladybug said with dread.

It was luckily one of the faster Akumas, and even though Ladybug’s train of thought was focused on rushing back to the Couffaine ship as fast as possible, Chat Noir’s unusual meek demeanor did not escape her attention. Suddenly, it dawned on her that they had been postponing their Guardian training sessions for almost a month now–with everything going on Marinette’s life, and also Chat Noir’s, she realized the last time she had seen him was for Kagami Tsurugi’s Akuma.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Ladybug said.

“Huh?”

“You seem a bit out of it.”

Chat Noir gave him a pressed smile and shrugged. “Nah, I’m fine… It’s okay, we’re about to detransform.”

“Chat…” Ladybug reached for his shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing important. I, uh, I broke up with my girlfriend last week.”

“Oh…” she said with a sad gasp. “Oh no, Chat. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he admitted with a pained smile. “I’m the one that broke it off, actually. But I still feel bad about it.”

Ladybug sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s recharge and we can talk about it.”

A macaron and a slice of cheese later, they reconvened in an indistinct rooftop, looking as the sun set, lighting up the Parisian landscape.

“So, what happened?”

“I just… I realized I don’t love her. I love someone else,” he said, looking down. “I couldn’t do that to her, lie to her like that.”

The silence that settled suddenly made him look up with panic. “It’s not you,” he hurried to say. “It wasn’t because of you. It’s this girl… This girl in my class. It just sucks in general,” he continued. “I– her… She’s with someone, this other girl. And apparently she had this huge crush on me before, but it went over my head because I’m an idiot and also because… well, because I was… Because I thought I was in love with you.”

She knew what he meant, and yet Ladybug couldn’t help but feel wounded by the way Chat Noir phrased it. She played it down, hoping he wouldn��t notice.

“Oh…” she finally mumbled, then cleared her throat. “Well, if it’s any use to you, I think you did the right thing, even if you can’t be with the other girl.”

“I know,” Chat admitted sadly. “It just sucks that I couldn’t see it before.”

Ladybug swallowed the knot in her throat. “It gets better,” she said. “Trust me, I speak from experience.”

Chat looked up at her with an intrigued expression.

“I, uh, I had something similar happen to me,” she confessed, a light blush creeping under the mask. “Except I was the one crushing on the guy and he started going out with this girl before I ever gathered the courage to tell him how I felt. I never did anything about it because I was too scared he would turn me down. It’s hard to be honest sometimes, but you did the right thing, Chat.”

“Thanks, Bug.”

The bells of a nearby church roared, announcing the passing of the hour, suddenly bringing Ladybug back into context.

“Shoot! I need to run, Chat.”

“It’s okay,” he said, reassuring her with a smile. “We can meet for Guardian training after the Wednesday patrol, if you’re not busy.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Ladybug,” said Chat, preventing from taking off. “For what it’s worth, I think you should still tell the guy how you feel. Like you say, it’s better to just be honest.”

She gave him half a smile. “Thanks, Chat,” she said, then quickly swinging out of the picture.

Back at the ship, Marinette’s nerves were in a wreck as she came out of the bathroom to rejoin Luka, desperately trying to figure out what could she possibly use an excuse.

“Everything alright?” Luka said as she rejoined the table.

“Yeah…” It was evident she was trying to come up with an excuse. “I, uh… Alya called me. She had a fight with Nino. Sorry I took so long.”

“No problem,” Luka said, with a sunny disposition. “Well, the food’s cold now, but I can reheat it if you give me a second.”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, Mari.”

Luka went into the ship and resurfaced a few minutes later with the food. He took a second serving so that Marinette wouldn’t be eating alone.

“Are you okay, Mari?” Luka said, noticing how fidgety she was, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and looking away into the rooftop along the Seine.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” she said smiling. “The quiche’s delicious, by the way.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

A silence of the uncomfortable kind settled between them, Luka noticed, making him uncomfortable as well. “And, uh, what have you been up to this week?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Marinette replied. “Just school, the bakery, and uh…”

“The macaron mafia,” Luka said with a bit of a smirk.

“Yeah,” she piped.

“How is that going?”

“It’s okay,” Marinette replied, giving no further explanation.

Luka felt desperation and frustration at both of them slowly starting to creep inside him. He wanted to tell her more than anything that he knew, and that she didn’t have to keep lying to him, that he understood. But then, on the other hand, he was scared that she might leave. What if she just didn’t want him to know? He didn’t want to throw their relationship away just because he couldn’t get used to her double life.

The air between them got fortunately lighter when Juleka and Rose came back from their date in the city and joined them at the table. Judging by the way Marinette’s disposition changed when the girls arrived, he couldn’t help but be a little uneasy.

That night after Marinette left, Luka found it hard to sleep. He stared at the roof of his room in complete contemplation. He knew that the only way out of this situation was to be honest with her and to tell her what he knew.

In his defense, he tried. He did try. But as he quickly came to realize shortly after they started dating, Marinette had very little free time. Actually, the times that they had hung out before they got together, which were also not too many when one really counted, were as much time as she could ever spend with him. This resulted in him coming with date after date where his end goal would be to confess to her, to only be interrupted by Akumas.

And so, he found himself in the most recent of his failed attempts, taking cover yet again in an alley next to a trash container after an Akuma interrupted one of their dates. This time he made a point of keeping track of the time so that he could come out when Marinette was ready.

As luck would have it, he heard someone land somewhere along the alley after the battle seemed to be over. His heart raced, feeling opportunity beckon him to come out. This was as good a moment as any. It was better this way, to hell with a meticulously planned conversation.

Luka poked his head ready to call Ladybug’s attention, when he found Chat Noir with his back facing him, transforming into none other than Adrien Agreste.

He had the sense to crouch back into his hiding place before shock seized him.

After what felt like minutes, his phone went off with notification after notification. He picked it up, noticing it had been an hour since the Akuma ended. It was Marinette. She was worried.

His hands trembled as he replied to her messages. “Hey Mari. I got hit by the Akuma and I ended up on the other side of the city. My phone died and I had to go into a store to charge it, sorry.”

“That’s okay, are you okay? Where are you? I can meet you in a bit.”

“Don’t worry. It’s way too far, I’m in the first Arrondisement. I’m sorry to ditch you, but can we raincheck? I feel a bit woozy after the Akuma.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you? I can take a cab and take you home.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay. I just need some fresh air and a nap.” He added a smiley face for good measure.

“Alright,” Marinette replied. “Take care. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

He waited to see if she’d keep writing before he turned his phone off. He hugged his knees and let out the sob he had been holding in for the past hour.

He had so many questions, all rushing and battling for his attention. Did either of them know? No, it didn’t make sense. Adrien would have never dated Kagami if he knew, and though he wanted to think Marinette would still be with him if she knew Adrien’s secret, Luka knew that was wishful thinking. It just didn’t make sense. Unless… Unless they knew and them dating other people was just a facade to protect their identities. But Marinette wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t–she was a good person. Right? Marinette wouldn’t lie to him. And yet, as of late, that’s all she did.

------

Ladybug had to admit, she was very impressed with Chat Noir. She didn’t know what came over him, but in the last few months it felt as if he had gone through some sort of metamorphosis. It was not to say that Chat Noir had lost that, well, that Chat Noir flare but there was something different about him. He was always punctual to their meetings, was level-headed in Akuma battles, and took his training seriously. He showed Ladybug the notebook he kept with all his notes from his Guardian lessons with her, and to her surprised, were neatly organized and jotted down with a clean handwriting she could swear she had seen somewhere. Not only he had been quick to pick up everything Ladybug had to teach him, but he went above and beyond to expand on her knowledge, and this also applied to their hunt for Hawkmoth.

“I have something for you,” he confessed one of such nights where he had been showing her his progress on his studies, much to Ladybug’s satisfaction.

“Oh?” she said, with an intrigued smile.

Chat Noir reached into the rucksack he usually brought to Guardian training and produced a pair of cellphones. “Burner phones,” he explained. “They don’t have cellular data; we can only send messages and call each other. I thought it would be useful if we can communicate whenever we need to.”

“Oh, Chat…” she said gingerly picking the unassuming little brick.

“Is it too much? I thought since you’re okay with the whole identity thing you might be okay with the phones, but if it’s too much you can just say the word and I–”

“Chaton, not so fast,” she said giggling. “It’s okay. I think it’s a great idea. I, uh… was just going to say I can’t really pay \a phone plan. I don’t have that big of an allowance.”

“That’s not a problem,” he said brightly. “I already took care of that. All you need to do is keep it charged. They run with prepaid cards, for more anonymity. I’ll get new ones when we run out of the credit they already have.”

“Chat, no. I really wouldn’t feel–”

“I insist. It’s really not a problem.”

Ladybug arched a teasing eyebrow. “Are you rich or something?”

Chat Noir smirked at her. “Maybe.”

“Is that a hint? Are you really rich? One of those obnoxiously posh kids? Oh no. This makes so much sense. You must be one of those insufferable private school guys. Are you like a real-life Bruce Wayne?”

“No,” he said, laughing. “Besides Bruce Wayne has no powers. I happen to have two.”

“Two?”

“The ring and my devilishly good looks.”

“Ugh,” Ladybug groaned, nonetheless laughing.

“Wait, that’s not all I wanted to tell you,” said Chat. “I, uh… was thinking.”

Ladybug’s stomach dropped with anxious anticipation. “About what.”

“I think… I mean, I’m not ready. But, uh, I just concluded that I thought you should know. I… I think I’m okay with us knowing each other’s identity. Eventually. Just… not now. Also, I–I think I’m ready to see this place you told me Master Fu left for us.”

Ladybug beamed with happiness, unable to help herself from pulling Chat Noir into a hug. “Chat that’s great!”

She hugged him, effectively causing him to blush and lose a bit of his focus. He gently pried her off him after he returned the hug.

“It’s not an identity reveal but–”

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Chat. It’s okay. I understand. When do you want to go to the hide-out?”

“I mean, if you have time right now…”

“Of course!”

Ladybug led Chat Noir to the neighborhood where the hide out was. In the dead of the night, there weren’t people out in the street.

“This is the neighborhood?” Chat said.

“Yes, why?” Ladybug said producing the key to the house from her yoyo.

“No reason. It’s just this is one of the sketchier neighborhoods. You know this map I’m working on that I told you about” he explained. “You get more regular crime here than Akuma-related.”

“My ”support group“ said the same,” Ladybug said as she opened the door. She picked up a flashlight Alya and her usually left by the door.

“There’s no light?”

“I don’t want to call attention with us wearing the transformations. You never know who might be watching.”

“Good point.” He walked around the house using his night vision to make out where everything was. “Maybe I can get a few furniture pieces for this place,” he commented. “Like a proper table and some chairs, and some kitchen utensils in case we ever need the kitchen.”

Ladybug was glad for the darkness because it made it easier to hide away her flustering. As much as she tried to deny it to herself, Chat always caught her attention when he took the lead. She shook her head and expertly pushed away the feeling,  aided by the thought of her boyfriend. Don't you even dare, you thankless heathen, she thought to herself and focused back on Chat's ranting.

“Maybe we can also get a safe in case you keep anything valuable here. And we have to change this lock. I don’t trust the locks in old buildings, we need a smart one and security cameras and–”

“Minou,” she said chuckling. “You’re literally just like my friend. I appreciate you’re exited to contribute, but where in the hell are we going to get the money for a freaking security system?”

“Leave it to me,” he said. Ladybug didn’t need to properly see to know he had his shit-eating grin on.

“I– Of course, I forgot you’re a rich kid.”

Chat laughed. “Sorry, I got carried away. But still, don’t you worry, LB. If you need anything for this place, just let me know.”

They went to the upper floor, the main attraction at least as far as Ladybug was concerned. She was pretty proud of the progress that Alya and her had made so far. They had managed to buy a few second-hand shelves for all the documents Master Fu had left and had a library of sorts.

Chat Noir went through some of the volumes until something caught his attention. It was a scanned copy with some notes on it, perhaps something Master Fu had been working on, but it was decidedly something he had seen before and had never connected the dots for. Not at least until then.

It was a page describing the powers of the Peacock Miraculous, and as any good encyclopedia, it had a picture of a brooch. The same brooch he had found in his father’s safe with the book–the grimoire, Chat would later learn that’s what it was.

A cold shiver ran through his spine.

Mayura was Hawkmoth’s sidekick. Natalie was his father’s assistant.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous ladybug fanfic #fanfic #writing #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #alya cesaire #ladybug #chat noir #love square #adrinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #lukanette #adrigami #the wall between us

[random-thought-depository]

In another post I wrote:

“Like … right now I’m planning out a story I intend to write in January; it’s supposed to be a kind of deconstruction of the Fremen mirage, and very much one of the thoughts going into it is “yo, a Proud Warrior Race would be a horrible society to live in or have as neighbors, we shouldn’t romanticize them!” and yet … I feel that the “bad guy” culture in it is much better, from a literary viewpoint, for me having given some thought to the material base of their society and how that would shape their culture. I could have just written them as flat edgelordy-grimdark barbarians, but thinking about their culture in materialist terms gave me a more complex and nuanced picture that I think will make for a more interesting and nuanced story and a fictional society that feels more interesting and human and alive.”

So, I want to infodump a little about this fictional culture I’ve thought up! I decided to split my infodumping into three posts, of which this is the second. In my previous post, I talked about the material conditions and subsistence strategy that shape this culture. If you haven’t read it already, I suggest you click that link and read my last post before you read this one, as it’s important context for what I’ve written here. In this and my next post I’ll talk about these people as a culture instead of just as an economy. I was originally going to make this whole thing two posts, but there’s so much stuff that could go in the culture part I decided I better split that up. In this post I’ll make a broad outline of the less “where does the food come from and where does the sewage go?” aspects of these people’s social structure, try to give you a general picture of how their society works. In my next post I’ll try to give you a more intimate “human” picture of what these people’s lives are like and what sort of people they are; talk more about relationships and attitudes and so on.

History and context:

The ancestors of these people were abducted from Bronze Age Earth by imperialistic aliens and used as basically slaves and slave-soldiers by these aliens. Some time in the last millennium BCE these imperialist aliens and their enemies blew each other up in the interstellar empire equivalent of a nuclear apocalypse. In the aftermath of this war the alien civilizations never really recovered, but the descendants of the human slaves built their own interstellar civilization, and the space nomad raiders I’ve been talking about are one branch of that civilization (the surviving aliens now mostly live on a small number of their planets that avoided destruction during the big ancient war, while nowadays most inhabited worlds in local space are populated more-or-less entirely by humans). There’s complexity here I’m not going to get into now, but as I said in my previous post, a significant point is these space nomad raiders I’m talking about mostly interact with other humans; the foreigners they interact with are mostly other humans, and the victims of their raiding are mostly other humans.  The location of Earth was lost in the chaos of the big ancient war, and Earth continued its independent cultural development (i.e. real history) and was isolated from the rest of the setting and the rest of humanity for about 3500 years or so, with re-contact between Earth humanity and the rest of humanity happening maybe around 30 years before the story I’m planning to write (which takes place some time in the twenty-second or twenty-third century CE).

The story I’m planning takes place against a background of a utopian-ish future Earth society that was in the process of colonizing the solar system fighting an “alien invasion” of these space nomad raiders.

Gender weirdness:

These people went straight from Bronze Age to space age, they completely missed the Enlightenment etc., and their former alien masters had little interest in giving them a more “progressive” culture (and were kind of too starfish alien to even really think in those terms; e.g. they were genderless hermaphrodites, so why wouldn’t they more-or-less just shrug and accept a Bronze Age human’s ideas about human gender?). So, to us these people’s culture would look like a strange mix of the very primitive and the space age, with the two combining in strange ways.

These people have strong gender roles and no concept of gender equality in the sense we think of it. Their society still runs on a “men are warriors, women are non-combatants who at best get patronizing protection and at worst are part of the spoils the men fight over” paradigm. Most younger men are more-or-less full-time warriors; their lives are more-or-less completely dedicating to raiding, defending the community from raids, and preparing for doing these things. If they survive long enough to become too old to fight they usually “retire” and then spend their time doing maintenance work on the weapons and passing on their knowledge to the younger generations of warriors and warriors-in-training. Women do most of the non-combatant work.

This might sound like a recipe for a rather brutal patriarchy, and in a way that conclusion isn’t wrong, but... This means women are doing most of the work of keeping the space habitat running. And remember, much of the labor of keeping a space community alive is specialized skilled labor; the sort of work where trying to extract labor through simple brutality wouldn’t work well. Women are most of the machinists and the repair technicians and the nuclear reactor operators and the doctors and so on. As I said in my last post, you really don’t want to anger the person who fixes the machine that makes the air you breathe, one of the people who tend the nuclear reactor that provides energy to your community, or the person who might do surgery on you. So this is a society with lots of female power (which coexists with horrifying institutionalized abuse of other women).

Now, in my last post I stressed how a society like this will be labor-limited and want to make efficient use of labor, so you may be thinking that having half the population be full-time warriors sounds extremely inefficient. And it would be! But that’s not what these people do. For one thing, that’s a simplification of their system; there are gender-variant male eunuchs and enslaved men who do “women’s work,” and as I said retired warriors do maintenance work on the weapons and raiding ships. But what really helps in making their system viably efficient is their population isn’t 50% male. This is where it gets weird.

Remember when I said earlier that a small almost-self-sufficient space community would have tightly controlled reproduction? Among these people, there’s a powerful order of priestesses that does that. They regulate reproduction to prevent over-reproduction or under-reproduction and to minimize the effects of inbreeding ... but they’ve also spent the last couple of thousand years doing eugenics and genetic tinkering on these people. Partially they’re into creepy fascist trying to breed superior warriors stuff, but also at some point they fiddled with the human meiosis process to give these people a naturally unbalanced sex ratio. I’m thinking they got it to the point where something like 60% of the children born among these people are female. The sex ratio among adults is even more skewed because of higher male early mortality rates, a tendency to ritually kill male captives while keeping female captives, etc.. This gives maybe 20% of the adult population being active warriors (remember, the retired warriors are mostly functionally maintenance workers until they get too old and feeble to do that too), which is probably still inefficiently big but manageable.

So these people have some of the social structures and cultural attitudes of a patriarchal society, but they’re a society where men are a minority and masculinity is defined by doing something socially prestigious but economically marginal (and, incidentally to this point but important to understanding their culture, they’re a society where warrior vs. almost everything else is heavily gendered).

Tribal warrior barbarian hordes IN SPACE:

Another aspect of these people being a weird mix of the extremely primitive and the space age is that they have advanced technology but they are basically a patriarchal clan rule society.

The basic social unit of this society is the patrilineal kin-group, i.e. the patriarchal clan. Inheritance is patrilineal and marriage is virilocal; when a woman marries she moves into her husband’s family’s dwelling, she becomes part of her husband’s clan, and her children “belong” to her husband’s clan. Because social kinship is basically unilineal, these clans become quite big; a normal size is thousands of people (and that’s if you don’t count non-kin dependents). A typical habitat community contains maybe five or six of these big clans. Usually the most powerful clan (usually the biggest) is the “royal family” and exercises hegemony over the habitat, while the other clans are allied to it in an arrangement similar to feudal vassalage. Attached to these clans through various vassalage-like and slavery-like arrangements are a large number of non-kin dependents, who usually make up the majority of the community’s population (more on them later). These clans are very much families in the Mafia sense of the word. So, I said earlier that the mobile space habitat community is the basic political unit of this culture, but most of those communities are more like five or six allied big Mafia gangs/families in a trench-coat.

The social glue of this society is blood ties, marriage, vassalage, slavery, and other forms of what can broadly be called fictive kinship style relationships. The line between marriage, vassalage, slavery, and other forms of fictive kinship is often blurry - indeed, these are basically Earth Western concepts that I’m imposing on this society to communicate what it’s like; these people would not carve their own social reality at the places I’m carving it by using these terms. As I said, this is a clan rule society; your social position is basically entirely a question of who your relatives and in-laws are or who you are affiliated with or owned by; the concept of an individual having legal rights (or even really legal personhood) separate from their clan affiliations basically doesn’t exist.

Status and rank within a clan is mostly hereditary, though it’s mediated by gender and age, and there’s also a significant “meritocratic” charismatic component (e.g. a younger son of a previous patriarch who’s a distinguished warrior and popular with the cousins may be chosen for leadership over a less distinguished and less popular older son who all else being equal would have been ahead in the succession order). The clan overall functions as a disciplined hierarchical organization with a delegation of authority and duties that’s orderly enough to be more-or-less functional (patriarch bosses around his brothers and sons, who boss around his cousins, who boss around their cousins, etc.), but there’s a significant amount of jockeying and potential for overlapping conflicting authority within that. Note: I’m making this sound like a basically male hierarchy, but remember that this is a society with lots of female power, the wives of high-status men tend to be high-status themselves and often have significant power bases of their own, so high-status women are very much big players in this.

These communities are economically egalitarian but socially inegalitarian. Your clan leader isn’t much richer than you; he probably has some servants and a somewhat bigger apartment and somewhat nicer clothes and furniture and somewhat better food and so on, but that’s about it - but he can control your life in more-or-less the same way your parents controlled your life when you were 14, you must show him deference, and if he wants almost any sort of favor you’d better give it to him. Power in this society isn’t about having stuff, it’s about being respected and obeyed.

The clan is responsible for the conduct of its members and your conduct reflects on your clan, so this is an “honor culture” where reputation is very important; you can expect to get killed by your own relatives if you harm or embarrass your own clan badly enough, and on the flip-side if you do something heroic your whole clan gets a boost to its reputation and “soft power” by association with you. Between this and what I said in the rest of this section, this is a society where most people (of any gender) have little personal freedom.

One thing these people mercifully mostly don’t have is the spiraling inter-clan blood-feuds that often happen in clan rule societies on Earth. You really, really, really don’t want gloves-off open gang warfare in a space habitat. So, these people have developed powerful social mechanisms for resolving disputes before they get to the blood feud stage. Unfortunately, these dispute resolution mechanisms themselves include lethal violence, i.e. there’s a tradition of often lethal dueling. These basically controlled murders are a significant cause of male early mortality among these people, so in that sense this is a very violent society even internally, before you get to all the violence they inflict on outsiders. However, this violence is very gender-asymmetric; among these people the taboos against killing women are stronger than the taboos against killing men, and there are especially very strong taboos against killing female skilled specialists (doctors, engineers, etc.). Ironically, as a consequence of the way male eunuchs and enslaved men are considered not really men, they are more-or-less grouped with the women for purposes of these taboos, so they are often actually safer from intra-community violence than higher-status men are.

This basically fits with men in these communities doing something that is prestigious but economically marginal; they get some prestige and power and privilege, but they are treated as disposable, and you can interpret the dueling as them having internalized this collective judgment on them. Mind you, it’s mostly not the same people getting both ends of this deal; it’s mostly the high-status men who get the “prestige and power and privilege” end of the deal, and the low-ranking warriors tend to get more of the “treated as disposable” end of the deal. Though in fairness this society is one with an idea that a leader is supposed to actually lead in battle, so high-status men often do take the same sort of risks as their subordinates (on the other hand, the strong hereditary element of power in this society means it trends toward gerontocracy, so the guys at the very top are often “retired” from direct participation in fighting).

In my previous post I said that humans usually prefer sharing or trading to violent theft because violent theft means risk of injury or death. That’s kind of true of these people, but with these people there’s an internal social pressure that acts in the opposite direction. In this society, heroic deeds in battle reflect positively on your clan and increase its prestige and “soft power,” and also because of the charismatic “meritocratic” component of their hierarchy impressing people by performing heroic deeds in battle is one of the few avenues of social mobility available to men in this society (note: “heroic deeds” in this context often means things like pulling off some particularly audacious heist; things that directly benefit the community if they succeed, so in a sense this is a smart incentive system). So this society will have a lot of ambitious young men who at least kind of want battles to happen so they have opportunities to prove themselves, and clan leaders will similarly often want battles to happen so they have opportunities to increase the prestige and influence of their clan.  Also, individuals and clans who contribute to a successful raid often get to keep some of the loot or have the right to control how some or all of it is distributed, and that makes raiding tempting to people who aren’t satisfied with what they have in the status quo even if the community as a whole has enough resources. So this is a society that’s likely to be more violent than is “rational,” if you define “rational” as “acts like a hive mind instead of like an actual human community made up of people who have their own goals.” Their whole social structure basically reflects that sort of dynamic; their warrior class is probably inefficiently big, but masculinity and participation in the raiding have become so entwined that they can’t shrink it without facing ferocious resistance from people who have their whole identity invested in being warriors; you can’t take somebody who’s been literally raised from birth to do one thing and has their whole sense of self-worth bound up in it and just casually reassign them to a different job (I’m thinking the man = warrior thing started when these people were slave-soldiers + logistical support “camp followers,” and survived a transition from “we’re an army with some ‘live off the land’ short-term self-sufficiency capacity” to “we’re space nomads who use violence as part of our survival strategy”).

“Women’s spaces” and non-kin clan dependents:

Societies with very strong gender roles often have lots of homosociality, and these people very much fit that pattern. Because women do most of the productive work among these people, most of the habitat community’s work-spaces are female majority spaces that the male warriors don’t directly interact with much (there are male eunuchs and enslaved men working in there with the women, but in these people’s gender system those hardly count as men, and anyway the women outnumber them quite solidly). So, basically, this society has a more-or-less separate majority female social world that has its own social networks, its own strong affiliation/friendship groups (mostly work gangs), and its own centers of power.

Being a clan-based patriarchal society, these people also have a marriage system that’s kind of a bad deal for women (patrilineal and virilocal marriage strengthens male-centered social networks while disrupting female-centered social networks, and makes wives vulnerable to abuse). This is a society where patriarchal family institutions coexist with a semi-separate female-majority social world and lots of female power, so a lot of women respond to the former by never marrying. If this was a more conventional patriarchal society this might mean lots of childless spinsters, but this is a society where maintaining high genetic diversity is a community survival imperative and where a female majority population and high female homosociality makes it easy to create all-female cooperative child-care arrangements, so the result is lots of unmarried mothers.

Note: “unmarried” may be a simplification here, I’m thinking there might be a sort of “marriage lite” where the woman gets some of the benefits of marriage (e.g. her husband has “honor code” obligations to protect her and her children from harm and take revenge on anyone who harms or kills her or one of her children) but she and her husband keep separate residences and her husband and his kin have no authority over her. But if this status exists it’s basically a formal recognition of a boyfriend/girlfriend type relationship and the woman can “divorce” the man whenever she wants. Possibly the line between boyfriend/girlfriend and husband/wife in this culture is fluid (IIRC in a lot of past societies all a heterosexual couple had to do to be considered married was live together and call each other husband and wife, and I could see the sort of “marriage-lite” I’m talking about here being similarly fluid, though since the couple not living together is part of the point of it the details of how it works would have to be different).

Children of unmarried (or “married lite”) mothers are for purposes of clan affiliation considered to have no father. This means they’re by default more-or-less outside the clan system, especially if the mother doesn’t have a patrilineal descent connection to one of the local clans (e.g. if she’s an abductee who was taken in a raid). Because being an unmarried (or “married lite”) mother is a better deal for the majority of women, offspring of unmarried (or “married lite”) mothers are usually a majority of the habitat community’s population. So in a typical community of these people, the local big clans dominate the community politically but are actually a minority of the community’s population.

I’m thinking the way this is usually handled is legally fatherless people legally directly “belong” to the “king” (the leader of the community’s most powerful clan). But in practice legally fatherless children are usually raised by majority-female cooperative child-care groups in majority female social spaces that have a lot of independence, and if they’re female they’ll usually spend their entire lives in those spaces and follow the same reproductive strategy their mothers did. So the effect is to strengthen the semi-separate social world character of these female majority work-spaces.

That’s how it works with legally fatherless girls and women, with legally fatherless boys and men things are more complicated. If you’re a legally fatherless boy among these people you spend the first 11-12 years of your life with your mother, and then you’re given various aptitude and fitness tests, and if you fail you’re left with your mother to be raised to be a worker, and if you pass you’re taken away from your mother and given to a group of legally fatherless warriors and retired warriors to be raised by them and if all goes well ultimately become one of them. It’s a bit like what the Spartans did, though thankfully the training is actually significantly less nasty than what they did in the agoge; I’ll talk about it more in my next post.

I’ll generally talk more about the details of what life in this society is like in my next post!

#my writing #worldbuilding #warning: long #cw: slavery #cw: sexism #cw: rape #Artemis of the airless vastness

[disneydreamlights]

Across the Stars: Chapter 2

AO3 | FFN

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Summary: Tensions between the Separatists and the Republic are climbing as the Senate debates whether there is need for an army. Anakin Skywalker, Senator of Tatooine, has recently returned to Coruscant to speak against its formation, resulting in an assassination attempt that forces him to reunite with long time friends Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and the newly knighted Padme Naberrie for his own protection. [Anidala]

(Or, an Attack of the Clones Roleswap AU)

The elevator ride up to the senator's apartment couldn't be over sooner, in Padmé's opinion, yet if it never ended she would have been thrilled. She looked out the window, trying to ignore the impossibly bright presence at the top of the building as they got closer and closer to the top floor of the building.

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan pulled her attention away from the window she was gazing out of, and onto the ride up. The truth was, she wasn't sure. The elevator ride up to the senator's apartment felt impossibly long as it came nearer to the top floor of the building. "You're not normally this nervous, my Padawan."

Padmé laughed and gave a smile, hoping to seem more at ease. "I'm not your Padawan anymore." She had recently completed her trials, which probably helped explain her nerves. It was the first mission the council had deemed to give her since she'd been knighted, a matter of pride to her and Obi-Wan, and it was expected for her to be a little nervous. Though the nature of the mission, and who they were protecting, were more the cause than her new promotion.

An assassination attempt had been made on the Senator of Tatooine, Anakin Skywalker, and so she and Obi-Wan, by request of both the Chancellor and the council, had been assigned guard duty to the young man. To make sure no other attempts were made on his life. It was a compromise, she was sure, but Anakin knew them best after all. It was only natural they'd be sent to help.

Obi-Wan smiled at her. "So I keep forgetting." It was clear he hadn't, he'd been there when she was knighted after all. "But I'm sure it doesn't make things less nerve-wracking, I remember my first mission after being knighted wasn't much easier."

She couldn't imagine it would have been, he'd had a Padawan following him for the entire mission after all. "It was probably harder, you had to watch out for me too."

"So I did, though I'm sure that's probably not all that's plaguing you." Obi-Wan indicated her to express her worries. "So what else is wrong?"

"Not wrong, not necessarily." At this, Padmé couldn't help but keep the smile off her face. "I'm worried about Senator Skywalker, of course, but I'm also excited to get the chance to see him. It's been too long since we've seen him." Five years had passed since their last trip to Tatooine, and Padmé still remembered the young fourteen year old.

"That it has. Hopefully Anakin's been taking care of himself." They knew he had to have been, to some degree. He was a senator right now, and one didn't become a senator overnight with no hard work involved.

"I'm sure." She smiled. The elevator opened up, and Padmé and Obi-Wan walked into the apartment, watching the senator's advisors and Anakin himself discussing what they would need to do for the next meeting of the Senate.

It wasn't long before they were noticed. "Padmé, Obi-Wan." Before Anakin could even greet them, Shmi had come over, giving both Padmé and her Master a hug. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you as well, Shmi." Obi-Wan bowed to the woman after being released from the quick hug. Padmé hugged the woman back, happy to see her again as well. She was a compassionate woman, and Padmé couldn't deny a bit of excitement at seeing her alongside her son. "How has retirement from the Senate been serving you."

"I'm glad I'm not in it right now. The stress Ani has to deal with to stop this bill…" Shmi gave them a tired smile. Admittedly, Padmé hadn't been able to follow Coruscant's politics with her preparation for the trials, so for once she had little idea what Shmi was talking about. "You'll protect him, right?"

"We'll do our best." Padmé gave the woman a smile. That was what they were here for.

"Mom, what are you–" From the kitchen, Anakin's voice stopped as he looked at the two Jedi, a smile forming on his face. Padmé couldn't stop one from forming on hers as well.

In the five years since they had last seen each other, Anakin had grown up from the gangly young teen into an adult. His blond hair had grown longer, but darker, likely due to him having spent less time under the twin suns on Tatooine. He'd also grown considerably more attractive, and Padmé felt her face warm up several degrees. She tried not to think about it. "Ani?"

"Hello Knight Naberrie," so he knew she was no longer a Padawan, "Obi-Wan. It's nice to see you both. I'm surprised you two didn't try to stop by sooner."

"We've been off world on missions, with the Separatist unrest stirring, it's been difficult to find a moment of rest for any Jedi." Obi-Wan gave an exhausted smile to Anakin. "Not to mention, Padmé had to study for her trials."

"I heard." Anakin smirked. "I've been keeping an ear in the Jedi Temple's business to see what I could hear about you two." That surprised Padmé, at least a little bit. She knew they had parted as friends, but she hadn't expected he'd be able to keep tabs on them. "Congrats, Padmé. I knew you'd be able to do it. I'm sure you'll make a fine Jedi."

"Thank you, Anakin." She was flattered for sure. "I only with you could share this moment with me. I know how much you wanted to be a Jedi too." The little slave boy from Tatooine who'd been so eager to learn how to use a lightsaber when she'd shown him hers as an initiate was a far cry from the man sitting in front of her now.

"It's the past." He waved her off, though she detected a small wave of irritation in the Force at the reminder. "Besides, I can do just as much good for the world without one. That's why I'm a Senator now." He indicated for the two of them to follow him to another room. "Mom, can you discuss the plan for dealing with the Military Creation Act? I need to discuss security with Padmé and Obi-Wan."

"Of course." Shmi nodded, her voice turning slightly more serious. The reminder of why they had reunited was a slight damper on the mood. It should have been under much better circumstances. All of them agreed on that. "I'll keep everybody occupied." She returned to the Tatooine senatorial delegation as Anakin entered into the kitchen, grabbing a seat with the Force for Padmé and Obi-Wan to sit down on.

"Somebody's still been practicing." Obi-Wan noted, watching as Anakin looked away.

"I didn't want the training you both gave me to go to waste. I try not to use it around others. You both warned me to keep it a secret for a reason, after all." Anakin's position likely meant the Force wasn't useful for much, but Padmé didn't blame him for keeping up with it. She likely would've done the same in his position. "Which means I think we can rule out the whole extremely powerful Force sensitive thing as the reason I'm being targeted, though I'm pretty sure it's the only reason I've survived so far."

"I agree." Obi-Wan nodded. "Not that we're here to help you solve the mystery of whoever's trying to kill you. We're merely here to serve as your protection."

Anakin frowned. "What do you mean you're not here to help me figure it out. That's the most important thing. Bail and I both agreed I need to be there to help deal with the Military Creation Act. I can't do that if I'm being hunted down by assassins."

"It's not our mandate." Padmé explained, almost feeling bad for Anakin as she felt a wave of irritation come from him in the Force. "The Jedi Council didn't assign us to solve the mystery of the attempts, just to guard you from them until they stop."

"And? That doesn't help any of us." Anakin wasn't wrong with that sentiment. "If you're here, you can't help deal with the Separatists and try to pacify them like the Jedi are supposed to do, and so long as I'm under threat I'm not supposed to be making anymore public appearances."

"Anakin–"

"No Obi-Wan, I'm not going to pretend that you should 'just' be protecting me." Anakin crossed his arms in irritation, clearly unhappy with Obi-Wan's attempt at an argument. "A part of protecting me is stopping who's doing this. My bodyguards and Force sensitivity would've been enough if that wasn't the case."

Neither Jedi knew what to say to argue against that, because technically, Anakin wasn't wrong. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. "We understand Anakin, we'll do our best, we just can't go out of the way to find them." Padmé smiled, trying to placate the senator. It seemed to work, as the moment she gave the explanation, he seemed to calm down just a bit. "But if we learn anything while serving as part of your security, we'll make sure to look into it."

Anakin smiled. "Right, I knew I could count on you guys. So, shall we discuss plans for my protection? I have an idea."

"An idea? I'm not sure I want to know given how infamous some of your ideas are." Despite having not run into him in their visits to the Senate, both Padmé and Obi-Wan knew of just some of the insanity Anakin was known to get into. The borderline fights with other Senators just to prove that he was right and that they should follow his ideas and policies. Still, Obi-Wan indicated for Anakin to continue. "But I'm willing to hear them out."

"Use me as bait."

"Use you as what?" Padmé stared at Anakin as though she couldn't believe what the Senator was saying.

"It's the best way to lure out my assassin. If he thinks my defenses have minimally increased, then he'll attack again. The Force can give me warnings, but if not then you two can sense what's going on too and keep me safe." Anakin leaned back in his chair. Padmé had to admit, the idea had merit. If they lured them out, at minimum they could kill whoever was targeting him, or perhaps even learn why. Either way, it was an idea that held promise.

"Absolutely not." Obi-Wan crossed his arms, denying the idea before Padmé could voice her opinion on it. "Anakin you can't play with your life like that. You're far too important." He didn't object, merely listened and looked to Padmé, waiting for her answer.

"Obi-Wan is right." In spite of the fact that she wanted to solve the mystery for Anakin, she knew her Master was right. "Your life is the first priority here Senator. We can't leave your life to chance."

Anakin sighed, relenting far too quickly on the matter. "Right then, if you're both decided, Padmé, would you mind coming with me. I'd like to discuss some extra security details with you. Alone." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. So Anakin did. "I want her watching the security feeds."

"Anakin are you sure?" She saw why Obi-Wan was unsure, she was unsure herself why the Senator felt more comfortable with her watching him sleep over Obi-Wan.

"I trust Knight Naberrie with the task. She'll be faster to alert the team, she's not as old as you." There was a teasing note to Anakin's voice, and Padmé started to laugh as she watched her master start sputtering, clearly taken off guard.

"I'm not that old."

"Aren't you pushing thirty-five, Master?" Padmé smiled, joining Anakin on his teasing. "That's old in my books."

"Yours aren't the only ones that matter, my Padawan." Obi-Wan sighed. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll discuss with the rest of your team about where they think I might be of most use."

"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Anakin watched the Jedi Knight walk out of the room. "Padmé, if you'll follow me." He led the way, leading her into a room with dozens of monitors and a single blue Astromech droid, plugged into the main console to watch the feed.

"Artoo?" Padmé looked at the droid in surprise. "Artoo's on your security team?" She remembered the eccentric droid. He'd stayed behind back when Padmé and Obi-Wan had returned to Tatooine to inform Anakin that they wouldn't be training him, but she still couldn't imagine him doing so much for him.

"I trust Artoo to keep an eye on any intruders, he's pretty good at keeping an eye on everything." He put his hand on the Astromech's dome with a smile, and the droid let out a series of beeps in return. But if R2D2 was going to be keeping an eye on everything, then…

"Anakin, why did you want me here if you have Artoo covering security?" She wasn't necessary for the job. The droid would be able to activate the system instantly so long as he was watching.

"Because, I know you don't agree with Obi-Wan's or the council's mandate just to stay here and guard me." Anakin looked to her, waiting for her to deny what he said. When she didn't, he continued. "You want to get down to the bottom of this just as much as I do."

"Of course I do, but Ani, I can't just go around the command I'm supposed to follow by putting you in more danger." He was right, she wanted to investigate and put an end to the threat, but not by putting him at risk.

Anakin laughed. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm not the little kid from Tatooine anymore. Artoo here will alert you the moment something goes wrong, and between the three of us we should have enough Force powers to recognize when something's going to go wrong."

It took Padmé a lot of effort to respond. "What if we don't?"

"If I die, then we can use it as proof that people are targeting senators opposing the Military Creation Act. Maybe then the Senate will listen to people saying it's a bad idea." Was that the bill Anakin was working so hard against?

"Anakin, your life isn't something you can just throw away like that." She needed him to see reason.

"This bill is wrong. If it takes my life to stop it, then it's a life I'm willing to give. I'm willing to die to stop something I don't believe in."

"You're that against creating a military?" That was...unlike Anakin, to say the least. He wasn't afraid of conflict, at least with what she'd seen. He was the one who freed all the slaves on Tatooine when he was still so young. She wasn't for the creation of one, of course, but it surprised her to hear that he wasn't either.

"Don't get me wrong, a lot of times a fight is the easiest way to handle things, but it's not that simple, not this time." Anakin pulled his data pad, letting Padmé scroll through the files to see the data the Senators had gathered. "A war would take the attention off of what needs fixing in the galaxy, take funds from where they're needed, and most importantly, it won't cause the Separatists to fold back into the Republic. Not fast enough to make it worth forcing thousands of sentients to fight in a war they don't believe in."

Padmé smiled, it made all too much sense that the boy from Tatooine would be against an army formed by a draft. The way he'd thought out his position to come to the conclusion that violence wasn't the answer was a far cry from the boy he had been as well. "You really have grown up, haven't you?"

She noticed Anakin's cheeks turn red, as though he was embarrassed by her comment. "I have. I wanted to become somebody you'd be proud of. Y-you and my mom, of course."

Padmé smiled, and she noticed Anakin's face had turned redder. If she didn't know any better, she'd assume it was the same puppy crush he'd had on her all those years ago. She decided better than to dwell on that, instead returning to the topic at hand. "You have, but that doesn't mean I want you throwing your life away for a cause."

Anakin was snapped out of his embarrassed state. "I won't be. I trust you." He looked at her with the same intense, blue eyes that hadn't changed a bit, and she met his gaze. He believed in her, the least she could do was believe in him and his plan too.

"We'll do it." Padmé relented, and Anakin's face broke into a grin.

"Thank you, Padmé. I knew you'd help me."

What had she signed herself up for.

-x-

"You spent an awful lot of time with the Senator." Padmé stepped out of the security room a couple hours later, having listened in on Anakin's plan as best as she could. "Was everything alright?"

"Anakin had...a lot of details to go over." She sat down next to him, hoping Obi-Wan wouldn't ask too much about just what those details entailed.

"I see...so what plan has he come up with this time." So she wouldn't be able to hide the change of plans from Obi-Wan. "I can't imagine it was more dangerous than his last one."

"It's...slightly better." She grimaced at the hesitation in her words, but it was true. Slightly better really was the only way to describe it. "Anakin has Artoo serving as the one in charge of monitoring the cameras, we both figured it'd be a better idea than having somebody watching that the assassin could see."

"Artoo?" Obi-Wan stopped for a moment. "Is he really sure an Astromech, us, and a couple of his normal bodyguards will be enough to deter whoever's after him." She didn't answer, causing Obi-Wan to prod her again. "Padmé?"

"Anakin's insisting that we use him as bait," she admitted to her indulging the Senator in what was a terrible idea. "He wouldn't listen to me when I asked otherwise."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Of course he wouldn't, Anakin is far too impulsive and willing to take risks. I suppose judging by the way you're talking, you agree?"

"The best way to protect him is to ensure that the assassin can't return. We won't be able to get them to make another attempt if they know that the security around him is tighter. It solves the case faster, so we can help try to get peace with the Separatists." She took a deep breath, feeling slightly ill at ease, awaiting the reprimands from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, however, simply nodded. "Very well, though I'm disappointed in you for trying to work around our orders, I accept your judgement."

Wait, what? "Master?"

"Padmé, you're a Jedi Knight now. You should be making your own decisions by now, rather than relying on mine. Whether it's the right or wrong one, it's too late to do anything about it now. You have to stay firm in the belief that you chose right" He stood up, walking over to the window to check to see if anything was out of the ordinary. "We can only hope Anakin knows what he's doing."

"I think he does. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked us to do it." She watched Obi-Wan's behavior as he paced around, seemingly anxious. "Everything alright?"

"I'm not sure, something–" They both felt it from Anakin's room. Something different. Something wrong. "Padmé."

"Right!" She ran into the room, shortly after followed by Obi-Wan to see two worm like creatures and a probe droid. Without another thought, she sliced through the worms, unwilling to let them come close to harming the Senator.

"Obi-Wan, Padmé?" Anakin looked at the two of them. But before either of them could say anything, Obi-Wan took matters into his own hands, and jumped right out the window onto the droid just outside, likely the culprit in letting the worms into his room. "What the kriff?"

Padmé sighed. "You were right when you said they'd make another move tonight." She gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. "You wouldn't happen to have a speeder I can borrow, would you?"

"I've got something better."

-x-

Better, as it turned out, was Padmé clinging to the seat of a four person speeder as Anakin zoomed through the Coruscanti skies at a speed that had to have been downright illegal for your average person to be going at. "Anakin! I could've driven myself."

"Where's the fun in that?" Anakin gave her a smile, clearly in his element. Despite that, Padmé clung her hands onto the seat. "Besides, you need to keep up with Obi-Wan. I'm the better driver."

"You don't know that?"

"You didn't win a podrace when you were nine." Anakin swerved out of the way of an incoming speeder, keeping an eye on the droid above them and the dangling Obi-Wan. "Somebody fast has to keep up with the droid."

"Somebody safe could have kept up with it too." She wanted Anakin to stop for literally one minute, but she did know he was right. If they didn't keep up, Obi-Wan would fall a lot farther than even a Jedi using the Force could survive. Loathe as she was to admit it, Anakin's help was probably for the best. "Or somebody who doesn't have an assassin after him."

"I'll be fine. The assassin will be too busy running from Obi-Wan to attempt to take me out." Anakin positioned himself underneath Obi-Wan in preparation for the knight to fall. "So, when did Obi-Wan get such a reckless streak?"

"You're one to talk." Padmé huffed, but Anakin just laughed. After a moment, she answered. "Always. He follows the rules, but he's not afraid to take a risk or two if it gets what he needs. But only if it's his own life at stake." If Padmé had decided to jump out of a window attached to a droid, she'd be murdered as soon as she was back on the ground. But Obi-Wan could do it without so much of a reprimand.

She was going to have to lecture her Master on safety, that was for sure.

As though her concern had been enough to will the worst case scenario into existence, the droid Obi-Wan had been clinging to was shot at and destroyed, and he landed in the speeder's back seat. He sat up moments later. "Nice catch Pad-Anakin?"

"Hey Obi-Wan." Anakin waved to him, but didn't look back, thankfully keeping his eyes in front of him. "Hope you don't mind."

Obi-Wan gave Padmé a look, almost as though saying that she should have stopped this. To which she gave a helpless shrug. "Never mind, we'll discuss this later. After that speeder." He pointed to a green speeder ahead of them, likely where the shot that destroyed the droid had come from.

Anakin nodded, and if anything started to move faster, causing both Padmé and Obi-Wan to grip the seats beneath them. "Has anybody ever told you to learn how to fly properly."

"What's wrong with the way I fly?"

"It's not flying, it's suicide." But there was no room for arguing further as Anakin cut around a building, noting the green speeder moving almost constantly at the same speed as him, no matter how much he pushed the speeder.

As if in response, Anakin made a sharp right turn. "Anakin, what are you planning?" Padmé asked. "He's going that way."

"Short cut, don't worry." He grinned at Padmé, and she couldn't help but wonder just how often Anakin had raced around the streets of Coruscant since Tatooine got the seat on the Senate. How much chaos he had caused that had to be cleaned up. "I know what I'm doing..." She heard under his breath a mumbled "I think" as Anakin weaved in and out of the buildings, having a few close calls that she was pretty sure she and Obi-Wan would need therapy for before stopping just outside of an intersection.

"Short cut…" Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, though was clearly relieved to not be moving for a moment. "We've lost the assassin."

Anakin had the humility to look embarrassed at least, even if it was clear to anybody with any skill in the Force that he wasn't bothered at all, but before he could say anything, the green speeder had plunged down, going into one of the lower levels of Coruscant's underbelly. "You were saying, Obi-Wan?"

"Anakin. We need to go after him!" Padmé pointed down, and Anakin flew down with them, angling towards the ground and pulling up to a club, several hundred floors lower than the apartment in which they had started their evening.

The two Jedi jumped out, holding their lightsabers in their hands in case they had to stop any more attacks. Anakin jumped out with them, and went to follow, but Padmé stopped him. "No, Anakin. The assassin's after you. You need to stay in the speeder."

"Wouldn't I be safer with my two Jedi protectors than alone?" If he'd hoped that would win them over, he was definitely mistaken.

"In a bar like this, doubtful." Obi-Wan frowned, clearly full of distaste for the location they'd need to enter. "It's more likely we'd be separated. At least here, we know where you are."

Obi-Wan's denial must have gotten through to him, because although Anakin had frowned, he didn't try anything, instead sitting in the driver's seat. "If they escape, I'll try to track them down. Good luck."

With Anakin, for now, deciding not to follow, Padmé and Obi-Wan slipped into the club. Obi-Wan went to the bar while she slipped in with the other patrons, closing her eyes as she attempted to feel for any presence out of place. Something that might have indicated the assassin that had attempted to kill Anakin. She remembered vaguely what they looked like. Feminine in form, and from what little she'd managed to sense their Force presence, they'd felt slippery. Not somebody she'd want to run into without a method to protect herself.

Her eyes opened. In the corner, edging towards the front door. She'd felt their presence. They had to have noticed Anakin. "Obi-Wan!" He looked up at her and nodded, and the two activated their lightsabers, letting the blue plasma beams ignite.

The assassin must have noticed them, for they bolted out the door. "Official Jedi Business, nothing to see here." Obi-Wan covered for them as they ran outside. Obi-Wan reached the assassin, knocking them to the floor before they could make another attack on Anakin, and Padmé fell in behind him.

"Let go of me!" The assassin attempted to fight them off, but Obi-Wan held her down, unwilling to let her up. "It was just a job."

Ah, a bounty hunter. Somebody must have really wanted Anakin dead if they were willing to pay off a bounty hunter to do it. "Do you have any idea who you were trying to kill?"

"Tatooine Senator. Look I'm serious, he was paying me, it's just business.."

Padmé and Obi-Wan shared a look. "What was his name?" Obi-Wan asked. Before the bounty hunter could answer, something flew through the air and hit them, causing the hunter to go slack, their face transforming into that of another, greener face. A species with the ability to shapeshift. Obi-Wan reached into their neck, pulling out a dart before turning to Padmé.

"Looks like we have another mystery to solve." Several, if Padmé could give her opinion based on the events that had just occurred.

Anakin wasn't going to like this.

[Next Part]

#Star Wars #Anakin Skywalker #Anakin #Padme Amidala #Padme #Obi Wan Kenobi #Obi Wan #Anidala #Heather Writes

[yukiwrites]

Looking Forward to the Future

Thank you so much for the support, anon! I’m,,, SOFT FOR DIMILETH...

Summary: Neither Dimitri nor Byleth had good thoughts regarding childbirth -- their mothers had died giving birth to them, after all. And yet... they couldn’t help but feel the bubbling happiness of finding out they would be parents themselves.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

Byleth couldn't say that she led the healthiest life around -- she preached on how to take good care of oneself and how to take proper breaks... But she hardly ever did it for herself.

It was no wonder that she had been feeling sick for quite a while now, but being so lightheaded she almost fainted? That had been a first. Now that she amassed the positions of both Queen of the Unified Kingdom of Faerghus and Archbishop of the new Church of Seiros, Byleth had her work cleanly cut out for her. A lot of it.

Regardless, startled by her blink of consciousness, a soldier brought her to the infirmary whence the former professor Manuela held the highest position of Chief Physician inside the castle.

"Oh my, that's an interesting color you have on your face, Your Majesty! Do sit down before you throw it up all over the place, please." Was how Manuela welcomed her former colleague and now Queen, smiling while she looked for the proper tools to start the examination. "Now, tell me how you're feeling. And don't hide a single detail, hm?"

Byleth slowly curled up into a ball of misery over one of the beds, her breath shallow. "I feel so sick I could- ughh..."

Manuela gasped, quickly flinging a washbasin to the floor right beside Byleth's bed. "Try not to make a mess, please! Take your time in explaining, dear, and don't force yourself. I'll be here patting your back very, very lovingly until you feel better."

"Ugh, I feel even sicker now." Byleth gurgled a laugh under her sickness, holding the basin as though it were her own child, ready to vomit inside of it at any moment. Manuela threw her head back in laughter.

"The nerve!"

After the good half of an hour passed, Byleth started to feel better. She managed to sit up on the bed, the color of her skin still a bit off, but much better than before. Wasting no time, the Queen started explaining her symptoms, fully aware that they were due to stress and exhaustion, but nevertheless wanting the opinion of a professional on the field.

The more she explained, the brighter Manuela's eyes shone, her smile turning into a huge, unsettling grin.

"And you have a history of missing periods for this long?" She asked here and there as the twirled her long smoking pipe with one hand, fiercely taking notes with the other. "My, I'm afraid I have quite the news for you, dear..."

Frowning, Byleth opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a loud bang, followed by a thunderous cracking sound. Startled, both women turned to the door only to find it hanging by only two hinges, its handle nowhere to be seen.

Ah, no, wait. The handle was still in Dimitri's hand, who had rushed to the infirmary once he had heard his wife had collapsed, not paying attention to keep his strength in check. Huffing and disheveled, the King looked from the physician to his wife.

"Are- I heard that you collapsed-" he panted, meaning to walk towards her, but Manuela's laughter made him flinch out of his skin.

"What an entrance, Your Majesty! Was breaking the door to my infirmary not worth of an apology?"

Blinking, Dimitri looked from the door to where he stood, then to how he still firmly gripped the broken handle within his fingers. "I, uh-" realization started to sink in, making him blush, "forgive me for my manners, I shall have it, well, replaced within the week." He cleared his throat, walking towards the bed Byleth sat on, meaning to sit right beside her. "More importantly, what has happened?"

Watching Dimitri change his behavior entirely was always so amusing to Manuela: first, he was so flustered and worried he quite literally ran through the door, then turned to red with embarrassment Manuela had to blink and then wore a worried and fulfilling smile as he sat beside his wife, his eyes deep with worry.

"Well, now that you're here, it's gonna be much easier to give my diagnosis!" She winked to the couple, who turned their attention to her.

"Diag-" Dimitri started, but Manuela's pointing her long smoking pipe right into his face made him stop himself.

"Congratulations, Your Majesties!" She pointed it to Byleth, "you're pregnant!"

"Pre-" both Dimitri and Byleth choked on the word, yet another loud cracking sound breaking the silence like a thunder.

Widening her eyes, Manuela once again looked at the King's hand only to find that the remains of the handle he somehow still held turned to dust into his surprised grip.

"Pregnant- Byle- I-" Dimitri blabbered, his eye unfocused as his hand shook as it tried to control its strength.

Byleth silently brought one hand over her stomach, resting another one by Dimitri's right hand. She looked down as her heart thumped and her mouth ran dry.

Pregnancy.

A child.

Hers and Dimitri's.

Blinking, Byleth couldn't understand how she received such blessed and wonderful news with dread inside her chest. What was it?

"Is that a... sentence?" Dimitri blurted out under his breath, his grim thoughts taking over the happiness he was supposed to feel. Would he have to lose yet another precious person of his? There was no way he could simply be happy to have a family of his own -- undeserving as he was, there had to have some kind of exchange for such joy.

Byleth breathed in slowly, closing her eyes. So that was it... so that was how she felt.

"What?" Her brow furrowed, Manuela leaned over to listen more closely. "A sentence, Your Majesty?"

Snapping out of it, Dimitri quickly raised his chin, "I! No- of course not! This is a happy moment, yes? I should not be thinking such terrible thoughts- Everything will be fine, will it not? Indeed!"

"It's... fine, Dimitri." Byleth squeezed his hand in hers, needing its warmth. "I can't say I haven't had the exact same thought as you just did."

Manuela crossed her arms and legs in annoyance. "Will you two lovebirds stop with the telepathy and tell me what's going on?"

"Hah," Byleth chuckled before lifting her gaze to her former colleague. "I suppose it can be silly to someone with a... lot of life experience," she started.

"Well, that's a nice way to insult someone, but go on." The physician rolled her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Byleth felt the minimal squeeze Dimitri gave on her hand as support, leaning on his shoulder to feel it even more deeply. "The both of us, well, we don't have many examples of what to look forward to during childbirth -- in fact, we only have one. Our mothers died giving birth to us."

"Ahh, I see it now. No need to go on, darling. I've got the picture." Manuela took a long whiff of her smoking pipe. "So now you're holding yourself back from feeling happy about your own child because you think you'll die when it's time to deliver?"

Both King and Queen lowered their gazes to their shared handhold.

"Humph, you insult me!" Manuela bonked the both of them with the round end of her smoking pipe, making them snap their heads up to look at her. "I never once lost a mother during the delivery, and I am no stranger to such things, I'll have you know! No one will die on my watch, darling, so don't go on worrying your little heads about it, okay? Besides, you are not your mother, dear Byleth. You're so much stronger than that, it'll take much more than a single childbirth to bring you down!"

Byleth opened her mouth to retort, but the icy grip of dread started to melt inside her heart, making her unable to speak. She lowered her head once again, digging her face into Dimitri's mantle. "Can I... truly be happy about this?"

Dimitri felt a lump grow in his throat, his breathing shallow. Manuela winked.

"Of course, dear. Both of you can. It's a wonderful time for a parent to prepare for their little bundle of joy to come to the world, so enjoy it to your heart's content. Now, where's that smile we all love?"

Byleth pressed her lips into a thin line, trying not to grin like a fool. She dug her face even deeper into Dimitri's cloak, sneaking her hand through his waist to start a hug. Trembling, the King reciprocated the gesture, his eye burning with emotion. Was it alright for him to hope? To look forward to a future whence he had both Byleth and his child?

To anticipate being with his beloved through and after her term; to carry their crying child and soothe them to sleep; to watch over their growth alongside Byleth and see them grow up in a land free of war and oppression...

Was he really that fortunate? Could he- could he simply... enjoy the moment?

"Don't cry, Dimitri..." Byleth whispered by his neck, his silent, choking sobs setting her off as well. He held her ever so tenderly, nudging her neck with his nose, his drenched face matching her own.

"Th-there are happy tears, my love. Happy, wonderful tears..." He sniffled, taking her warmth into his, uncaring -- or rather, forgetting -- about watching eyes.

"You two keep on playing nice," Manuela whispered under her breath before getting up to give them some space. She would lecture them about their usual overworking behavior and what to expect during Byleth's term, but that could wait until they had digested the news.

As per Manuela's instructions, Byleth and Dimitri both were forbidden of working past usual work hours -- after all, if one was seeing working, the other would follow suit. So, no overworking for either of them.

Also, Byleth needed to have a complete nutritional makeover, so the physician had to be kept in constant contact with the royal cook and with the handmaids. Constant walks were recommended, but no more weapon or body training! Riding was also banned, though a slow, short ride could be done only if they were together.

"Professor Manuela being so strict is a sight to behold," Dimitri commented one evening after they had been scolded about being up late. Byleth giggled, squeezing her hand on his.

"She's not 'professor' anymore, though."

"Oh," the King took his free hand to his lips. "You are right as always, my love. Although I wager Manuela would relish on being called 'Professor' again."

"Because of her age? My, Dimitri, I never thought you were such a shrewd man..." Byleth teased, enjoying how a shade of red covered her husband's entire face.

"Now you are simply making fun of me! That will not do." He cleared his throat, picking his wife up in his arms. Under an 'eek', Byleth held onto Dimitri's mantle to her dear life.

"Dimitri! What's this about-"

"No more walking for you today -- time to rest, my adored Queen and mother of my child." He tried to smirk, but the bubbly happiness in his chest from simply calling Byleth 'mother of his child' made it look like a foolish grin.

Snorting, the Queen wrapped both arms around her King's neck, nudging her face on his. "Is that a royal decree, Your Majesty?"

Dimitri adjusted her on his arms, his heart quite literally on fire due to his wife's teasings. "Why, it very much is." He chuckled, turning his head ever so slightly to touch her lips with his. "I will be your support through all of this, my love," he whispered as their lips still touched, his eye comfortably closed. "Through your term; everything. For all eternity."

Byleth bit his lower lip, their breaths as one. "Then, will you heed a request of mine, O eternal protector?" She whispered solemnly in between kisses, trailing them from his mouth to his cheek and ear, making him shiver where he stood.

"Anything, my Queen." He huffed, not realizing he had stopped walking since a while ago, distracted by his wife's adorableness.

Byleth pressed her forehead on his. "Please, I beg you... take me to the kitchen. I'm craving a very specific kind of fish and I think I'll die if I don't eat it right this instant."

"Pfft-bwaha!" Dimitri snorted, then full blown laughed. "Your wish is my command, dear wife!"

Giggling, Byleth strengthened her grip on him as he started running through the halls towards the kitchen. "My hero!"

The sound of their dissolving laughter could be heard through the echoes from the large palace, bringing a smile to its residents' faces.

#dimileth #dimitri #byleth #dimitri x byleth #fire emblem three houses #fe 3h #spoilers #3h spoilers #my writings #manuela #yuki's commissions #SLAMS TABLE I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE!!!! DIMITRI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #lies down sobbing i love him

[colbysmisdemeanour]

Stood up.

Summary : the readers gets left behind , alone in a restaurant as she awaits for her date to arrive. To her luck , she matches her eyes with Colby as the night takes a turn of events.

Warnings : none , just fluff.

Word count : 1142 words

———————————————————————

Excitement ran through your veins as you were getting dressed for your date tonight. It's been a couple of weeks since you've been talking to this guy in particular and decided to shoot your shot.

He's suppose to be taking you on a perfect date to a restaurant , not your preferred kind but you liked keeping an open mind. You poured yourself into a black skater dress , trying to keep your makeup to a minimal before heading out the door.

You drove yourself there and headed to the reservation desk , mentioning your name before following the lead of the attendant. Your eyes wanders across anxiously , most of the tables were filled.

Beside your table was a group of friends , drinking and having the time of their life. Your eyes caught the attention of another , sneaking in a smile before turning your face around the other way as you restlessly waited for your date to arrive.

To pass on the time , you fidgeted with the metal rings around your finger , tugging on them gently before gliding them back down. Once again , those darting blue eyes stared back at you but only this time maintaining a firm eye contact.

You took a deep breath , breaking the eye contact before quickly checking the watch placed on your wrist. It's almost been half an hour since you've been waiting for your date to show up , it wouldn't hurt if you could wait for a couple more minutes you thought.

The roars from your stomach were now becoming evident as you clutched it tightly. The pain slowly overpowered itself as a feeling of nausea hit you.

An hour immediately passed by while you were waiting , feeling awfully let down about being stood up on a date. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the blue eyed boy one last time before calling it a night.

You watched as the blue eyed boy quickly whispered something into his friends ear , making his friend cast a glance at you. Your head shot down nervously as you tried avoiding any awkward eye contact , as though the night wasn't awkward enough.

Colby's POV

Brennen decided to take our whole group out for a nice dinner along with his girlfriend. He decided to vlog the whole thing through as I sipped my beer.

"How about we place a bet?" Brennen asked , looking cheekily at all of us surrounded at the table. "What kind ?" Jake asked , sipping his alcohol while placing his arm behind his girlfriend.

"Okay so , whoever touches their phone first loses and will have to pay the whole bill ?" He suggested , laughing out loudly. A drunk Brennen was something to live for.

All of us agreed upon the bet , placing our phone on top of one another as we commended talking.

Since Brennen's  girlfriend was around , he hardly payed attention to me which only resulted in me wandering my eyes across the entire place.

Just then a girl walked in wearing a black skater dress , her hair was let down as she walked past us , taking a seat directly next to us. She was eye catching , completely gorgeous.

My stare caught her attention as she flashed me a smile before looking the other way , restlessly playing with her fingers as she waited for her date.

I couldn't stop staring at her and she figured it out easily , since we kept having a little eye to eye action. I patted Brennen on the shoulder , demanding for his attention as I leaned in to whisper into his ear , "bro , don't look now but there's this beautiful girl sitting right next to us." I said as I watched him take a quick glance at her.

"She is beautiful." Brennen agreed , winking at me as he pushed me forward to speak to her. "What if she's waiting for her date to arrive ?" I asked nervously.

"She's been her for an hour already dude , just shoot your shot." Brennen encouraged me. I inhaled a deep breath before lifting my self off my seat , walking towards her to test my luck.

End of POV

You grabbed onto your clutch before attempting lift yourself up. "Hey.." someone called out , diverting your attention towards him. You looked up as your eyes met his again. He's beautiful.

"Hi ?" You weren't quite sure where this conversation was leading as he took a seat opposite of you. He stared at you , making you extremely insecure as you licked your lips apprehensively.

"I couldn't help but notice you.." he started off , sparkling a different kind of excitement in you.

You remained silent , asking him to continue. "You're honestly really beautiful and I don't really get the idea of you being lonely ?"He questioned , cracking a smile at the end. Argh , that smile.

"Actually..I.." you stuttered in front of his charm. "I actually got stood up." You took in the courage , blabbing it out rapidly.

"Seriously ?!" He asked you in surprise. A gentle nod was sent his way as you preferred to stay quite before the stranger.

"Oh I'm sorry , Colby." He said , extending his ring covered hand. "Y/n." You almost whispered , shaking his hand mercifully.

"So let me cut to the chase , how about I be your date for tonight ?" He asked , a smug smile painted across his lips.

You liked his confidence , most definitely willing to give him a try rather than getting stood up once again.

"Sure." You said as he clapped his hands in excitement , drawing attention to the two of you. You giggled at his gestures as he looked fixedly at you.

Your nervousness got the best you , stressing whether it was your makeup or something stuck onto your tooth although you hadn't had a meal since hours.

"What ?" You asked him as he shook his head , still looking at you with awe. "What is it Colby ?" You asked , kind of annoyed.

"You're just..gosh , you're beautiful." He complimented you , as he placed his hand upon yours while gracefully caressing your hand with his thumb. Your hand was lifted up in the air before coming in contact with his soft , plump lips.

He kissed on the back of your hand , looking at you deep in the eye as you blushed abundantly.

Never has a man ever treated you this way and soon you were casted under the spell his eyes foretold.

The rest of the group soon left the place , leaving the both of you alone. His friend secretly winked at him before disappearing in the crowded streets.

Throughout the night he continued amazing you while treating you right , making you completely oblivious of the fact that you were ever stood up on a date.

#colby brock #colby imagine #colby x reader #cole robert brock #sam and colby #colby brock fic #colby brock one shots #colby brock smut #traphouse imagines #brennen taylor #fluff #date night

[slasherscream]

PLEASE, JD and Billy whose SO gained quite a bit of weight from school stress + a few nasty people bullying her. She loves JD/Billy but thinks that he finds her repulsive so she wears baggy clothes and stops being as affectionate with him. Then one night he climbs into her room and she flinches when he puts his hands on her waist. He asks what's going on and she cries telling him everything. By the end, he goes: "You think I don't find you hot? Let me prove you wrong." Smuttiness and fluff ensu

A/N: finally  .... finally a reason to live (a mister. jd request). big smooch thrown your way anon. 

     jason dean / jd

                                                     ——————– 

There's something about senior year that's getting to you. Maybe it's the fact that you know after this it could all get worse and you're already having a hard enough time as is.

You were never a bad student before, actually you were pretty good, so it might seem small to someone else but it's hard to cope with the fact that you're suddenly having to put 100% effort into everything you do only to receive minimal success. 

Every paper or test you get back marked with red. Every tutoring session you attend. Every late night cram session. Every group project where you always seem to be the one holding the group back. It's all starting to build up. You're about to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

You're eating more as a result and when you notice the extra weight around your hips and stomach it only freaks you out even worse. One more problem to deal with! Great! Now you're not only stupid but you're also getting fat. You can hardly look at yourself in the mirror without getting angry and sad. What's wrong with you? Why can't you get it together? 

Your boyfriend, JD, is completely unaware of any of this. You could tell him. Probably should tell him       but every time you open your mouth to start the words won't come out.

You feel stupid in more ways than one. Is this really something to complain about? To be losing sleep over? Not doing well in highschool? Much as you'd like to think he loves you (and you're getting less sure every day) he can be ....harsh. At times. Not with you, really. But you've seen it firsthand. Heard him rant and rave about other things and people without reservation or empathy.

You feel like a baby but you know you can't handle any tough love, or sarcasm, or disapproving looks from him at the moment. It'll send you hurtling right over the edge of oblivion. You don't know a damn thing about anything else but at least you still know your own limits. 

You wish you were more invisible at school because the popular girls notice quickly your weight gain. Snickers in the hallway. Insults whispered just loudly enough for you to hear. You start covering yourself up more. Barely showing any skin at all. You wish you could disappear under these baggy clothes all in dull colors. You want to blend into the halls. Sink into the floor. Stop existing for just a moment so you can rest. 

This .... this JD begins to notice. He's observant, scarily so. But he doesn't have time to take note of your overall personality and style changes. He's overwhelmed by his own paranoid thoughts. 

You don't touch him anymore. Don't like even being near him it feels. He goes to put an arm around you and you cringe away. Tries to hug you and suddenly you run off to class. He’s only just been able to sneak you a handful of kisses on the cheek. You haven't been on a date in weeks and it's all beginning to freak him out.

All the patience and trust you two have built up together isn't enough to keep his mind from going to dark places. You're going to leave him. You're going to leave him and he can't just let you but he doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to do to keep you. Doesn't know what he did wrong. Tries to think back        to fights, or comments. Analyzes every conversation and interaction. Just last month you'd been fine. Golden. Perfect. You're perfect together in every way. 

That night he has to see you. Has to see you, and hold you, and convince you that you can't leave. That you two are the best thing the world ever managed to make through reckless chance and coincidence. 

You're studying diligently the way you pass every evening now. You don't hear the rocks being tossed softly at your window. You do hear the window open and see him crawl through scowling. He's across the room and joined you on the bed before you can so much as say hello. 

Hands on the side of your head that pull you into a fierce kiss. You squirm against him, nervous and thinking about all your problems even as you want him to just kiss them away. His hands slide down to your waist and you psychically leap off the bed with a yelp. 

Silence falls on the room and there's a combination of hurt and anger starting to settle on JD's face. Neither of you speak for a long moment. When he does it's after he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath (you remember teaching him to do that whenever he thought about doing something rash). 

"What's going on?" you open your mouth to answer but the words are still stuck in your throat, "Y/N ..... I'm really trying here but you've been ignoring me for weeks. You don't talk to me. You don't touch me. You don't          Fuck! You don't wanna breathe the same air as me it seems, cause' we never stay in the same room for long before you're running off. Running from me." 

He gets off the bed now and walks towards you until your back is to the wall and he's caging you in. You can't run from him now. 

"I- ..... JD I just-" He doesn't mean to interrupt you when he puts a hand on your cheek but the softness in the touch is enough to break you. You sob a little even as you lean into the warmth of his palm. It's the first time he's been given the chance to really touch you since you started hating yourself. You missed him. 

One sob out of you and you're enveloped in his arms. He tucks you against his chest protectively, chin already resting on the top of your head. He doesn't know what's going on but that's always his first instinct. Protecting you. Keeping you. 

Even now you're thinking about how you fit differently against him then you did last month. The month before that. You try to pull away and he tugs you back sharply. "No darling .... whatever this is we're dealing with it right now. You hear me?" 

You hear him. Eventually. You try a few more times to get away or get out of talking but he doesn't take your unhappiness lightly. He doesn't stop holding you either. It's easier than you think to tell him ... tell him everything, when you're tucked away in his arms, cheek pressed against his chest, hearing his heartbeat pounding steadily in your ears. You focus on that. The rhythm and familiarity of that sound instead of on what you're saying. You just open your mouth and let words fall out. 

When you're finally done talking and shift back just enough to see his face you don't find any of the things you'd thought you'd see there. Just softness. He presses your foreheads together, "You ... are the most beautiful thing alive on this shitty planet." 

You squirm against him, clearly wanting to deny it but he shakes his head and puts a finger to your lips, "No, darling. You already did your talking. Now it's my turn. It's rude to interrupt you know." He's smirking now and you have to laugh. The sound of your laughter makes his eyes light up. 

"I love everything about you. I'll love everything about you until we're both dead in the ground. You're perfect." He sounds damn near worshipful saying it. He completes the imagery by sliding out from underneath you (it had been a real struggle wrestling you onto his lap in the first place) and onto the floor in front of you.

On his knees he tucks his fingers into the band of your sweatpants and pauses, waiting for permission. But you still look self-conscious and unsure. He hates seeing that look on your face and moves closer, kisses the skin just above the waistband gently and then nips at you. His dark eyes are burning and serious when they lock onto yours, "Let me show you. Let me prove you wrong." 

There's a bit of begging to the tone and the realization that he needs this just as much is what makes you nod. With that all bets are off.

You're stripped bare in moments and he still has all his clothes on, even his fucking trench-coat that always smells a little of smoke. That fact would make you squirm at the best of times. He seems to read your thoughts and puts a hand on your stomach that is settling. Comforting. He doesn't stray away from the extra softness to your skin now either. Fingers squeezing into you like he's enjoying it. He enjoys you. He's enjoying having you so close.

His other hand finds your thigh and he uses it to yank you towards the edge of the bed. His warm breath ghosts over you, "This isn't about me." 

He seems so barely controlled and eager you expect him to get straight to it. Instead he starts to kiss upwards, passing by the place you want to feel him most completely. Open-mouthed kisses going all the way up your stomach. He nuzzles the space between your breasts before he settles his mouth onto one suddenly and sucks.

You jerking against him makes him groan and it turns out he wasn't planning to tease you after-all. His fingers are between your legs stroking you in just the way he knows you like. 

Fingers slip against your wet and heat in a way that makes you both groan. He rubs tight circles into your clit and is watching your every reaction to his touch. He'd missed watching you like this.He like the way you feel against him, softer than before. He smiles into your breast. 

That's how you cum. Him on top of you, caging you, holding you and you whining at the feeling of his fingers curling inside you. 

You're breathless when he kisses you, still coming down from your first high of the night. You look carefree and dazed, exact opposite of the tears you'd shed earlier. He smiles and kisses his way back down your body, not yet done showing you how beautiful he finds you. 

                                                     ——————–

#jd heathers x reader #jd x reader #jd imagine #heathers imagine #heathers #i can die in peace now that i have a JD request on this blog #also we love our boys and im the 1 person who tends to keep things on th lighter side considering the fuckers i write for adjkl #but DAMN REAL TALK YOU PICKED the two worst assholes in the world #to stop being affectionate to .... both of these boys would just how do you say ... snap?? #they're fucking just like that when it comes to being denied affection adjkl #billy and jd: my gf is being kinda distant...i will begin committing crimes and acts of violence #why do we stan ?? bad taste #but them realizing the problem isn't that you don't not love them anymore? not ...any better #billy and jd: oh you were just sad because someone was mean to you? guess i have to .....kill everyone now #changed the words a bit because JD is a dramatic teenage boy who thinks he's fucking ...a poet or some shit #jd's wound up long so i just ...focused in on him. got excited

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Csuapr prt 60 update

The big family dinner Miriam had planned was pushed back to the following night so both Keith and Lance could get their bearings. Lance had slept through until dinner time, Kosmo appearing the kitchen to bark up a storm, letting Keith know that no longer was his husband sleeping but now needed him. Pushing his chair out with a loud scrape, he was running without explanation as he followed Kosmo upstairs and into the family bathroom. Curled up in the corner of the room, Lance was rocking as he sobbed, hands tearing at his hair, completely falling apart while he’d been stuffing his face with Mami’s delicious home cooking. Lance had been sleeping when they’d checked on him before, Keith tucking the blanket back around his thin shoulders as he drooled into Kosmo’s fur. Rushing to his husband, he gently tugged Lance’s hands away from his head, his husband repeating something in Spanish that he didn’t know, only that Lance seemed very intent on getting the words out. Fighting against him, Keith forced his husband’s arms around his waist before wrapping his own arms around Lance’s, nuzzling and kissing his hair as he hushed him softly, confused about how Lance wound up trapped in the corner when he’d been left sleeping. He’d either woken up in a panic or panicked over something in the bathroom, where it could really be anything or even nothing at all. Hiccuping softly, his husband cried harder, the same phrase being repeated. If Lance had been saying he was sorry, then Keith would have been able to soothe him, assure him that there was nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t the first time he wished he was better with languages, or Spanish at least. He really should be getting at Spanish given how important Lance’s cultural identity was to him. With his mind on Lance, Keith didn’t know Marco had followed him up. His brother-in-law standing in the bathroom doorway, Kosmo between them “He’s saying he’s scared” Jumping, Marco scared the Quiznack out of him. Keith growling in warning not to approach, succeeding in scaring Lance further as his husband nearly climbed into his lap. Moving his hands from Lance’s back, he cupped his face as his husband straddled his lap. With his eyes scrunched tight, tear after tear rolled down his soft cheeks, his bottom lip quivering as he continued to ramble “Babe? I’m right here, you’re ok. You’re ok, we’re ok...” Lance shook his head hard, his reply much louder and stronger than his previously mumbled words “Marco, what’s he saying?” He couldn’t say the right thing to help Lance if he didn’t know what the problem was “He, uh. He’s scared and confused as to why he’s here. And he doesn’t know where the twins are... or where you were... or what’s going on... Mostly he’s apologising for being scared” There was more to it. Marco was leaving something left unsaid and he could feel it “What else did he say?” “That’s pretty much it” “I can’t help him if I don’t know!” Raising his voice caused Lance to flinch as he whined softly “He’s upset... he’s... being hard on himself. Basically he thinks everyone thinks he’s dirty and a freak, and he’s a bad mother. We’ll father, but it’s complicated, isn’t it?” God give him strength. His husband was such an idiot “I’ve got him. I’ll take him back to the bedroom” “Are you sure? He’s... he’s saying... He’s sorry for existing and hurting the family... I haven’t seen him like this since Allura died... Not this hard on himself...” Marco sounded pained. Yeah. Lance had majorly fallen apart when Allura had up and left him behind. He would have happily trotted off after her. He respected why she did what she did, but couldn’t help but hate her for breaking Lance’s heart “It’s his anxiety. His head gets muddled easily when he starts to stress. Can you ask Mami to bring the boys up? I don’t think he’s up to seeing everyone right now” “I... ok. Yeah. Um... I’ll just go” Lance grew marginally less tense when Marco left. Finally open his blue eyes, guilt has clouded their brilliance. Pushing a smile to his lips, Keith rubbed at the tear tracks with the pads of his thumbs “There you are... You're ok, Lance. You’re ok. I’m ok. I’m right here. I’m right here with you. I’m going to lift you up and then we’re going to the bedroom. We’re using your old room while stay here. Mami is watching the boys. They’re both sleeping. They’re both safe. We’re all ok” Keeping his words slow and measured, he wasn’t sure how much his husband was actually hearing. His idiot was a complete and total idiot. He wasn’t some kind of dirty freak. He was the most amazing man Keith knew... more amazing than Shiro, despite what Lance may think. Sniffling, Lance seemed to want to make the effort to calm down now that it was the two of them “I love you. I didn’t leave. I didn’t go anywhere but downstairs. Mami made dinner, and the boys have been sleeping on the rug in the living room. We’ve all been watching over them. Nothing happened. Nothing went wrong. They’re ok” Lance’s breath hitched before a fresh wave of shaky sobbing started again. Drawing him up to him, Keith settled Lance’s face against his neck “Shhhh, baby. Shhhhh... you don’t need to be scared. It’s just me... it’s just me and you” “K-Keith...?” Lance had so many personalities. He had so many facial expressions and tones, but the almost disbelieving way he asked his name was one that always left his heart feeling as if it’d been flogged by a studded whip “I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere” “How... did we get here? Why are we here? They... Luis going to hate me... he’s going to... I can’t ruin things again... I can’t... I can’t...” “Babe, you’re not ruining anything. Pidge dropped us off. Don’t you remember?” Lance shook his head. Keith noting it down to his upset over their boys not enjoying the trip “That’s ok. You had a big day. I’m going to lift you now. That ok?” “I’m dirty!” The sudden exclamation drew a sigh from the half-Galra. Nope. He wasn’t sitting in the bathroom corner and having this conversation, nor was he sure he could actually lift Lance safely from the corner without panicking. Whistling softly, Kosmo came to his side, nosing his cheek “Kosmo, take us to the bed” Teleporting then out the bathroom, Lance gave a squeak as they landed lightly on the bed. Clutching at him, Lance didn’t appreciate the free ride, panicked from the sudden movement. Kissing his forehead, Keith nuzzled into the spot, peppering a dozen more kisses as he tried to reassure Lance “Kosmo just moved us. There’s nothing to be scared of. You’re ok. You’re ok. Now you need to listen to what I’m about to tell you. You are not dirty. You’re not. Not in the slightest. You’re my husband. The father of our children and you had a major trauma. It’s ok to not be ok but I can’t understand if you don’t tell me. I love you. I love us. I love our boys and our family. I promise you, baby, you have nothing to be scared of. I’m right here, I’m right here and I’m not letting go” Lance hiccuped softly, the sniffled twice as loud “‘m sorry” “Shhh. You don’t need to apologise” “But...” “You have done nothing wrong. You woke up a little disoriented. I’m not mad. No one is mad with you” “But...” “Babe, nothing is worth being this upset. Especially when you have done nothing wrong” “IfuckeverythingupandIdon’tknowifIcandothisagain” Keith needed more than a tick or two to process the jumble “What do you mean?” “I don’t know if I can be... if I can be a parent... I don’t know why we’re here or how we got here! I don’t know anything!” Letting Lance calm himself after his outburst, Keith didn’t know how to proceed next. He was trying to reassure him, but it was going through one ear and out the other “Oh, babe. Hey, of course you can” “No, I can’t! I can’t! I can’t remember anything!” “That’s alright. We can work through this” “It’s not alright! Everyone left and I can’t remember. We’re here and I can’t remember. I can’t remember... I can’t remember it! It’s gone! It’s all gone! It’s all gone...” Moving his hands, one hand went to rest on the back of Lance’s head as his other slid down and he looped his arm around his husband. What was he supposed to say to that? Lance had been pretty loopy, but he hadn’t thought he’d forgotten everything. His husband was far too upset to push this further, but would he even remember if Keith did? “It’s not all gone. It’s the drugs in your system. The medication. You said goodbye to everyone. No one was mad. You were sad but then you’d see our boys and you’d smile. You’re a great father” “Then where are they? Why can’t I see them?” “Mami’s going to bring them up, then we can cuddle and you can watch them sleeping” “But I won’t remember! Luis probably hates me! I’m a freak, Keith! And now our boys are saddled with having a freak for a father! My family probably hates me. Lisa is going to be disgusted. Rachel won’t want to talk to me. What do I tell Sylvio and Nadia? I’m not supposed to be able to have babies... I don’t want to ruin my family again. I don’t want to keep ruining things!” Starting to hyperventilate, Keith wasn’t ready when Lance suddenly threw up on him. Having not eaten anything since breakfast, nor had anything to drink, the contents of his husband’s rebelling stomach was minimal but enough to be kind of gross. Pulling away, Lance looked mortified as he covered his mouth, trying and failing as he threw up again. Trying to flee as Keith made to grab him, his husband tripped over his legs, landing on the floor beside the bed with a solid thump. There wasn’t anything particular funny, only the look of confusion on Lance’s face was... if it wasn’t a serious situation he would have lost it laughing. Climbing down, Keith lifted Lance under his armpits, his husband swaying in his hold, then promptly deciding he needed to faint against him. Quiznak. He’d wanted Lance to calm down, not throw up, fall off the bed and faint, in rapid succession. They’d only just left the bathroom and he didn’t expect they’d be returning quite so soon. Having heard the thud, Mami let herself in. Jorge was holding one son, with Mami holding the second. Both opening the door in time to see Keith lifting Lance up to his chest, his husband’s head lolling back as he did “Keith!” “He fainted. I need to get him cleaned up... can you... I need... help?” Asking for help felt strange, but with vomit down his shirt and across the floor, he couldn’t juggle Lance and clean up at the same time “You take him to the bathroom. I think afterwards we should talk. Worry about him for now. I’ll send Marco to the bathroom with fresh clothes for both of you” “Thank you...” He didn’t need to explain it was a panic attack, not when Marco would have already done that. He would have also explained what Lance had said. Even if he hadn’t, Daehra and Lucteal would have been able to pick up all their feelings. For now he’d have to deal with this cherry on top of an already stupidly long day. Stripping Lance and getting him into the bath, Keith had time to reflect on Lance. He knew his husband was forgetful. He’d been forgetful since before he’d given birth, then the combination of pain and medication had left him pretty empty headed. He just didn’t think Lance wouldn’t remember so little. Did his husband remember his first hold? Giving birth? Naming their precious boys? Did he remember Coran fussing? Krolia visiting? Shiro and Curtis being gushing godfathers? Or was all of that gone from him? And if it was, where did even begin trying to piece things back together? They had videos. Pidge had been so good about taking a ton of videos and photos. Everyone had a copy, even Shay, Hunk, Veronica, Acxa... hell, even Kolivan had a copy. But Lance... he’d lived it and he couldn’t remember it... and if Lance couldn’t remember coming to Cuba, he probably wouldn’t remember the panic attack either. Depending on how he felt when he woke, he’d probably be able to tell if he was left with a sore chest and feeling bone tired. Then Lance would slowly curl back in on himself, his anxiety would claw cruelly at the back of his mind until he started to implode... which was currently happening and he’d missed it thinking Lance was simply tired and stressed. But his husband had to remember. He remembered enough to remember he couldn’t remember. Just trying to untangle that sentence left his head aching as joined Lance in the bath. With husband sleeping against him, it felt like years since they’d had a moment to themselves like this. The thought immediately left him feeling like the worst parent possible. His children were with his in-laws because he couldn’t handle his role as a father. He couldn’t juggle both them and Lance and the feelings it blossomed in the pit of his stomach weren’t great. He was supposed to be on top of this. He wasn’t the one who’d pushed 12 plus pounds of baby out his butt without pain relief. Lance had done that. His strong and brave husband who loved their boys instantly, was no falling apart because he couldn’t remember... and he wasn’t sure how to fix this. He’d have to ask for help. He’d have to ask for help from Lance’s family and he hated that it made him feel about 10 inches tall. Lance thought he was ruining his family with his mere presence when everyone was excited over their boys... and even if they’d had a joyous reunion, Lance wouldn’t be able to remember anyway. Hiding his face against Lance’s shoulder, he borrowed a little of his husband’s wisdom while no one was there to witness, letting himself cry softly. When Lance was right, he was right. Sometimes you needed to just let yourself cry, and then everything would be clearer on the other side. Rousing briefly as he cried, Keith only cried harder when Lance tried to comfort him. His husband holding his hands, telling him how “handsome and proud of him” he was and “that he loved him” before apologising for falling asleep in the bathtub, then falling back to sleep with his lips still against Keith’s hair. Lance was trying. He knew he was trying. So that just meant he had to try a little harder. If Pidge was still there, and hadn’t left during their time upstairs he had the start of a plan to help Lance remember. Yeah. Crying had inspired it, though they didn’t need to know that part. He’d just have to keep remembering for his husband, until Lance finally had a grasp on himself again. It wasn’t until Marco appeared that Keith finally found a way to smile. Knocking on the door his brother-in-law asked if they were decent. Which they weren’t. Despite warning him, Marco turned on the theatrics over the pair of them in the bath. Covering his eyes with their clothes, he held on hand out as he shuffled towards the bathroom counter, then pretending to trip, peaked out from behind the clothes. Only, he looked down instead of straight ahead, quick to covering his eyes, he prayed to the lord “to erase the memory of seeing his brother’s junk”, and “that photos of naked mole rats hadn’t been ruined forever”. It was so incredibly stupid and so very Lance that Keith couldn’t help but snort. Marco perking up at the sound, his expression one that Keith had seen on Lance’s face hundreds of times before. He was smug in his knowledge that he’d made Keith snort. As revenge Marco was sent to tell everyone to gather in the bedroom in 10 minutes. A poorly estimated time when it actually came to getting out the bath that they barely fitted in together, getting them both dried off, and then loosely dressed. Yeah. He was late to his own meeting. Making space for him to carry Lance to their bed, Miriam pulled back the covers so Keith could settle Lance down against him. His other great decision was that he didn’t intend to sleep. Perhaps not the greatest for a new parent with twins that loved singing as much as their father, though were completely and totally out of tune. Ignoring the discomfort of everyone’s eyes on him, Keith got Lance settled with his head in his lap and an arm thrown across his legs. Fussing over tucking them both in, Miriam then stood back to join everyone looking at him expectantly. This was as bad as any planning and strategy meeting Keith had ever been forced to give, worse when it was twinged with the feeling he’d be betraying Lance even if it was to help him. Sighing, Pidge had no time for his antics “Marco said we all had to come talk. You’re not going to be all lovey and gross are you?” Thank fuck for Pidge. Her sarcasm the same as ever “Not quite... Um... So Lance had a panic attack and I think we should talk about it” The words felt clunky and not quite right. It was what he wanted to say... only it kind of didn’t sound right... “Go on, Mijo” Miriam gently encouraged him. Everyone in the room cared for Lance, and now he had a favour to ask all of them “If he knew we were talking about him, it’d only make things worse, but he said somethings and I kind of need some help...” Miriam looked positively happy at the prospect of being able to do something to help. The others simply nodded at him “We talked about what triggered his panic attack. We all know he was loopy in hospital but he didn’t remember saying he wanted to come see everyone. He didn’t even remember Pidge giving us a lift down here. With how upset he was, I doubt he’ll even remember us talking tonight” “He doesn’t remember? How much...? Does he...” Miriam was as shocked as Keith had been to hear Lance didn’t remember “He... he basically freaked out over how everyone was going to react to him having given birth, and that he couldn’t find the twins. I had a think about while we were taking a bath and I have a plan to help. Pidge, I need you to put a translation app on my comms. I can’t understand him when he’s so upset that he’s talking in Spanish. I also need you to make a folder on Lance’s comms, like on the home screen, with all the photos and videos you took while he was at the Garrison. Daehra, I need you to hook him up with an IV and if possible give him a scan. That way he can see that it’s the medication that’s left him muddled. Lucteal, I need you to help me keep an eye on him. He sometimes sleep walks, and if he slips out while I’m sleeping Kosmo will go with him, but I need to know if that happens. Mami, I know the others want to meet the boys but Lance is terrified he’s going to cause the family to split. Tomorrow I was thinking if we take the morning slow then have them come around lunch it’ll give me time to talk him. Jorge, he’s really missed you so maybe you can talk him into feeding the animals with you? Or something around the farm, nothing too strenuous though” Marco couldn’t help himself “And what about me? Do I get to do something cool too?” Keith chuckled at his brother-in-law’s enthusiasm, he tried to look serious and failed completely “You have the most important job of all. I need you to be yourself. Make jokes, tease him, whatever you two normally do. Act as buffer between him and Rachel though he’s more nervous that Luis and Lisa won’t understand or think he’s... think he’s abnormal. Even if he can’t remember we do. So maybe try not to mention the hospital too much? He didn’t remember everyone leaving or saying goodbye. I think if he’s got access to what Pidge recorded he can watch it over and over and see he hasn’t done anything wrong. And it’s important that he holds the boys lots. He’s been up and down in the hospital but he’s been more settled with them near him. He was pretty shattered that they kept crying and he didn’t know why” Keith’s make shift team all nodded, Keith knew they’d be on board if they understood “Is there anything else we can do?” Trust Mami to want to do even more, there was one more thing “Colleen gave him some medication that should help with his seizures until we head to Erathus. I was thinking maybe Daehra could examine it. The shakes she made, made it easier for him to take his medication. Pills still make him gag. But, he shouldn’t have a seizure. If he does, all you can do is wait for it to pass. Make sure he’s no in danger of hurting himself, and if he comes too, don’t touch his hair, face or wrists. His normally really disoriented after them, the same with his panic attacks. If he’s awake, make sure you talk to him softly and keep your hands where he can see them. If he’s unconscious you need to check his mouth to make sure he hasn’t vomited. I was... I was thinking maybe something like pancakes for breakfast. He’s allowed solid food again, but they’re soft and he shouldn’t feel too self conscious about eating. The best thing we can do for him is act like the attacks haven’t happened, and not fuss. That only makes him worse... oh... if you want to cuddle the boys that’s fine, but he kind of needs to know where they are. It’ll help settle his anxiety about being back with his family again...” Running through his mental list, Keith was sure that was everything, or at least the main points. Letting his fingers rest on Lance’s hair, his husband was the most important thing in the world to him. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t madly in love with his twins, it just meant that he couldn’t do any of this without Lance by his side “Of course, Mijo. Anything you need, you let us know” “Thanks, Mami. I know it’s pretty early but I’m going to stay with him in case he wakes up. I... know it’s all a lot to ask, but... but I really want this week to be as relaxing as possible for him” Miriam dabbed at her eyes “And it will be. We’ll all do our best to help... is... will he get better?” “Better” was a loose term that Keith really didn’t like the weight of. Lance had brain damage that left his emotions all over the place. He couldn’t recover from the damage but he could be happy “Once things settle down, I’m sure he’ll feel better. It’s mostly the paranoia and anxiety from not having seen everyone for so long. He really wants to see everyone, he’s just so fu-damn scared of the outcome that he’s built it up in his head. That’s why I thought a slow morning would be best” “It sounds perfect. He shouldn’t be pushing himself as it is. Jorge, I’m sure you have some small job Lance can do with you. Marco, make sure you don’t annoy him too much” “Pffft, didn’t you hear him, Mami? He wants me to be my usual charming self. Keith, man, we’ve got this” “I... I know you do... He’d hate that I said any of this... but... I don’t know what else to do” Jorge cleared his throat, the way he liked to do before he spoke “He’s our boy. You gave us back our boy. Don’t you ever feel you can’t ask. Not just for him, but for you too. My son married a good man when he married you” Keith had hit his limit of people complimenting him “I... thanks. I know... it’s not... never mind. Thank you. I married a pretty good man when I married him too. He’s come so far” Pidge clapped her hands lightly “He’s about to get all mushy again. It’s time to get out of here before he starts listing everything he loves about Lance. They’re both hopeless. Keith hasn’t even realised he has an auto-translate program on his comms. A wonderful auto-translate program co-designed by the Blades and by the Garrison to help alien settlers adjust here. Nor does he seem to realise that every photo and every video has already been sent to both their comms. Now, thank me and I might tell you how to work it” “Thank you, Almighty Pidge. I fear your technical brilliance, but can you please set it up for both of us, or I will torment you with you everything I love about Lance” Pidge pulled a face and stuck her tongue out, hands covering her ears “Don’t threaten me like that. It almost makes me wish I was at the Garrison, but I’ve got to start young training my minions to be more useful then you two idiots” “Yeah yeah. We know you care about him too. No one just pilots out in the middle of the storm for people they don’t like. You can’t hide it, Pigeon, you like him too” “That’s lies and slander. It’s all for the sake of my minions” “Says she who ran away from them crying!” Lance whined against his leg, silencing them as they waited to see if he’d wake. Holding their collective breaths until his husband didn’t wake. Mami couldn’t stand still any longer. Smoothing out nearly invisible wrinkles on the bed, she looked a little constipated as she said “We’ll leave you in peace. Call us if you need anything at all. Even if it’s to watch the boys so you can get some rest” “Thanks, Mami. But we’ll figure that out when it comes to it... maybe hearing them will help?” “Of course... of course...” Jorge came to place his hand on Miriam’s shoulder “Come on, Miriam, let them get settled. We’ve got our own parts to play, and Keith’s well equipped to handle this. We’ll see you boys when we see you... Oop, better put these two down for the night... Don’t want to make your... Say, Keith. Does Lance prefer mother or father?” Keith felt a surge of love that Jorge would ask as he attempted to respect his son “Father. He feels really conflicted over his body. He doesn’t know how to quite accept himself when he’s just given birth... but he prefers father” “In that case we should get these two to bed before their father wakes up. We’ll leave a couple of bottles all set up downstairs for you. I know what it’s like staying up with the rejected lambs. Regular feedings... and that” Mami huffed “They’re our grandsons, Jorge. You know how to feed a baby. Now, let’s give them some peace. Come on everyone, we’ve got things to do and dinner to finish. Keith, would you like your plate brought up?” God, yes! Miriam’s cooking was amazing. Not “Hunk’s kind of amazing”, but amazing in its own right” “That’d be great. Maybe Lance will want some when he wakes up...” “I’ll make sure to make him a plate too” “Thanks, Mami” * Keith tried to stay awake. He was up to feed the twins three times before he finally fell into bed with his husband and practically passed out. Hunter was being fussy, and Laith left his nappy so dirty he’d needed an bath to deal with all the mess in there. Nappies shouldn’t allow the poop above the waist band. Someone needed to do something about that, because how the quiznak had his son gotten poop up to his hair wasn’t something he could answer. Snuggling up, he spooned around his husband. Lance automatically pushing back against him, shivering at the differences in body temperature, yet still seeking his hand like he liked to do. Fuck. He deserved this. They both deserved this. He’d missed all Lance’s little quirks that came with sleeping beside him, that came with holding him. Yeah, he was a sucker for his husband and holding him just felt so right that all he wanted to do was sleep with him. When Keith woke next, the spot beside him was empty. The early rays of the morning sun bathed the room in shades of pink and grey. Patting the bed sleepily, he found no signs of his husband, his first instinct to worry before rationalising that Lance probably needed the bathroom after Daehra had insisted on running two bags of saline seeing how dehydrated Lance was. With his eyes feeling gunky, and sticky, Keith crawled out of bed, immediately hissing at the coldness of the wooden floorboards beneath his feet. It wasn’t quite jacket weather, but it wasn’t not jacket weather either. Goosebumps erupted across his bare flesh as he crept his way over to where both his baby boys were still sleeping. Lance must have gotten up and tucked them both back in, as Laith liked to kick at his blankets when he woke. It wasn’t as if his son could really move them, but both tiny boys were tucked in too neatly. They were barely over a week old and already ready to take on the world. Leaning over the edge of the crib, he kissed both their foreheads fondly, before leaving them to sleep as he stumbled his was across the bedroom while rubbing at his tired eyes. With Lance not in the bathroom, Keith let himself panic. Kosmo would be with Lance, wherever he was, yet he’d sworn he wouldn’t fall asleep on the off chance Lance had woken before and something like this had happened. Rinsing his face, he shuddered at the cold water in the taps, the groan of the pipes echoing how he felt about it all as shivered his arse off, then had to pee thanks to running water. Cold hands on his junk never felt great. Everything below the belt felt like it was trying to crawl up inside him to seek some kind of warmth. Fuck. He really should have grabbed a jacket, but that meant doubling back to the bedroom, and the floor was far too cold for that. Wandering down to the living room, the room was dark with the curtains undrawn, sounds of life were coming from the kitchen, so Keith forced himself to shuffle along and not seem too eager to see his husband. Pottering around the stove, Mami wore a long thick pink dressing gown over her nighty. Pink slippers on her feet with pink curlers loosely in her hair to complete the look. Turning around and catching sight of him, she clutched her chest as she swore in Spanish. Keith didn’t actually know if she was swearing, but if he had to swear in a court of law he’d definitely swear she did “You scared me, Mijo! What are you doing up? You were up half the night with those little boys” “Um, have you seen Lance?” Miriam nodded with a smile, going back to the fry pan she was getting ready “He’s been up. Came down to find him feeding the twins. He wasn’t up for talking, but he let me help with them. Jorge just had him out helping with pens before you came down” Lance hadn’t sleep walked off? Keith knew he’d asked Jorge to include Lance, but that was before the morning threaten to freeze both his toes and his balls off “He was... did he seem okay?” “Happy to be with the twins, but a little distant. He wasn’t up for talking, but he was all smiles for his boys. He’s just headed off for a walk with Kosmo. We tried to keep him around the house, but... he seemed to feel he needed to take a walk” Kosmo would keep him safe. If he felt Lance had wandered too close to danger he’d bring him back “Thanks, Mami. I’ll go find him” Moving towards the door, Mami took him by the arm “Not like that you’re not. You haven’t even put your boots on. No, no. You go upstairs and get something warm on you, while I make you a nice thermos you and Lance can share when you find him” Shifting his gaze down to his pink toes, Keith nodded. Walking around the farm bare footed was stupid, especially when the grass would still be slick from the night air “Oh. Right... I... will you be ok? Should I do something to help before I go?” “Don’t you worry, I’ve been cooking in this kitchen so long I know it better than I know the back of my hand. You go bundle up, and don’t you worry about those boys of yours. Marco can get his lazy arse up and play uncle while you’re gone” “It just... they’ll be ok?” Mami patted his arm. Keith didn’t want to leave the boys alone. He felt like a god awful father for how many time’s Mami had stepped in to help them both out “I know you’re worrying, but you’re not leaving them. You’re taking a walk, not going to the moon. They’ll be just fine. Lance already fussed all over them” It wasn’t that... it didn’t matter how much he fussed over them, they deserved every ounce of fuss they received... “Go on, go get dressed. Let me handle things on this end. I’ll wait until you come back, then I’ll whip up a batch of fresh pancakes for us all” “If you need any help...” “Then I have a whole household of lazy bones to help me. Go talk to Lance” Returning to their room, Keith kissed his sons again before finding warm clothes out of their luggage... then kissed his boys again before getting dressed. If it was warmer then he’d be tempted to take them with him. But then again, he didn’t know what state he’d find Lance in. He had to be prepared for Lance not to remember. Changing into something warmer, he paused to grab a blanket for Lance, then found himself drawn back to his baby boys. Three morning kisses weren’t enough. They were so quiznakking perfect. Laith looked positively grumpy as he slept, face all wrinkled up as if he was an old man. Hunter had a loose hold on his blanket, sleeping away peacefully despite Keith kissing both their foreheads again for good measure. He loved them. He loved them and hated leaving them. He never wanted them to find themselves in a situation where he wasn’t right there to kiss away their tears. Feeling the growing itch for cuddles, the half-Galra forced himself away from the cot. Lance first, then family cuddles. Yeah. Lance would love family cuddles. With a last wistful glance, he forced himself out the bedroom door. Lance would have made sure they were fed and changed. His husband was fantastic with them, even if he didn’t believe it for himself. When Keith returned to the kitchen, he found Jorge had come in from his chores. A large steaming mug in his hold as he fiddled with the old radio in front of him “‘ morning, Keith. Mami said you were up. Looking for Lance?” Keith forced a smile, his boys would be fine. They’d be fine and for now he need to focus on Lance “Yeah. Mami said he went for a walk?” “Yeah. Took that wolf of yours with him. I think he’s headed up to see Allura and his friend” That was a heck of a hike. Lance was supposed to be pacing himself and working up to a walk like that... “Ah... ok. Thanks for that...” For the millionth time, he was grateful to Miriam. Pushing a thermos at him, she flashed him a faked look of something that wasn’t quite anger. Her eyes were too bright for it to have been anger “Go on, shoo! Get out of my kitchen and find your husband, and don’t come tracking your muddy boots back through my house” Taking the thermos with his free hand, the warmth was welcome against his fingers. Somewhere along the line, he’d stopped wearing his half finger gloves and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when. Maybe it was the same time Lance finally felt comfortable to show his hands more? Or maybe it’d been since the explosion. Whenever it was, he regretted not having that extra layer of warmth “Thanks, Mami. But I can’t make any promises” Miriam huffed a sigh “Great. Our one chance at a civilised child and he’s turned into an ordinary family member. Now shoo already. Go have that talk” Making “shooing motions” with her hands, Keith gave nod, then slipped through the kitchen to the fly wire door, letting himself out into the frigid morning air. * The walk up to where Allura and Kre’el rested was unfairly refreshing. The cool morning wind left his throat parched and his body feeling alive. The sounds of the animals waking, the feel of the soft grass beneath his boot, the way the colours dyed the sky... He was becoming much more of a homebody as right now, he couldn’t picture being anywhere apart from right here on the family farm. After a prolonged internal argument he decided to take his time as he walked, to let Lance enjoy the same sights and sounds, and seeing he was already too late to watch the sun creeping over the horizon, he may as well aim for tomorrow in that respect. With a few attempts in the wrong direction, he needn’t have bothered his slow pace, Lance was already settled by the time he reached him, absorbed in the small screen of him comms as he sat shy of the two graves upon the hill. Kosmo wasn’t in sight, but Keith knew he wouldn’t have wandered far. Coming up behind his husband, Lance looked up at the sound of his footsteps. Sitting down behind him, Keith placed the thermos down before wrapping the thick blanket around his shoulders and gathering Lance against him, his husband leaning back into the offered warmth, though Keith was cold to the touch. Not that it’d stay like that for very long. The cloud cover was already sparse, the day would turn out warm, yet hopefully not too humid. Resting his chin on Lance’s shoulder, Keith let out a long breath, enjoy the simple privilege of being able to cuddle his husband “Hey, you” Smiling, Keith quickly kissed Lance’s cheek “Hey, yourself” He wanted Lance to come to him in his own time and on his own terms. He didn’t need to tell Lance he was worried or missed him, because his husband already knew “You should be sleeping” “I was, but I missed holding you” “You great big softy” Letting the conversation lull, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lance had discovered the folder Pidge had put on his home screen. Watching his husband tapping on his comms, Lance was scrolling through the countless photos Pidge had taken at the hospital. He’d never admit, but she’d gotten some amazing shots of them both with the boys, and some even better ones of Lance with them “Keith. I think we need to talk” There it was. Knowing it was coming didn’t stop his stomach from dropping and his heart skipping an uncomfortable beat “Sure, babe. Anything you want to say, I’ll listen” Lance took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, then followed it twice more before finally nodding “I... I think somethings really wrong with me and I’m scared” That Lance was calmly, mostly calmly, telling him spoke volumes “What’s going on, babe?” Lance sighed deeply, Keith snuggling him closer “I’ve been... I’ve been watching these videos. I’ve been looking at these photos and I can’t remember. I can’t... I don’t know how we got here. I don’t remember coming home. I don’t remember saying goodbye to everyone. I want to see Curtis and Shiro and I don’t even know where they are. Did they bring us? How long have we been here? Have... have the others met the boys? Stupid... of course they did. Did they bring us in the Talula? I can’t remember... I can’t remember and it scares me... What’s wrong with me?” “Nothing, baby. Nothing is wrong with you” “I can’t remember, Keith!” There was the fear “I know” “How!? What... oh... we’ve talked about this. We’ve talked about it and I’ve forgotten that too... tan jodidamente estúpido. Soy tan jodidamente estúpido...” From his wrist, Keith’s comms piped up, automatically translating for him. They both jumped at the sound of the unknown voice “So fucking stupid. I'm so fucking stupid” Lance buried his face in his hands as he tried to draw himself into a ball, Keith wanting to smack himself for not thinking about the translation program and the effect it might have on Lance. He also wanted to smack himself for letting his husband think so lowly of himself “You are not stupid. You are my husband and I love you” “I can’t remember!” “And getting upset isn’t going to help. Yes. We talked about it, but you need to give yourself a break” “It’s our boys, Keith. I can’t remember the first days of their lives. I remember holding them, but... do they like me? Have I been a good m-... a good father to them? I remember giving birth to them, so why can’t I remember that week? It’s... how can they love me?” “They do love you! Babe, stop it. You’re amazing with them. I’ve been there. I was there when you were in hospital. I was there when you held them” “Then if it happened, why can’t I remember? I feel like I’m looking at photos of some stranger with your family... some stranger holding our sons” Lance wiped at his face, Keith couldn’t see if he was wiping away tears or just trying to rub some warmth into us cold cheeks. He’d thought about this. About what to say “Can I ask you a question?” “What?” “How much of withdrawal do you remember? That time we went through it together to get that blue stuff out of your system. How much do you remember of that?” Lance’s tone was cool as he asked, Keith knew it had to sting to bring the past up, but he also knew Lance needed a little help making the revelation on his own “Why are you asking about that now? Are you ashamed? Because I was messed up junky?” “I’m not ashamed, but I want you to really think about your answer” “I don’t remember much of it... bits and pieces. I know I was horrible to you... oh, Dios. You’re going to leave me, aren’t you!?” Lance had been looking straight at that revelation and decided to sidestep it completely, being the adorable idiot that he was “Exactly, babe. You can’t remember most of what happened because of the drugs in your system. Your head was all over the place, but we got through that together. Babe, you were high as quiznak. They had to keep you on pain relief, even when I know you didn’t want to be. The reason you can’t remember was because of the drugs in your system. Not because you’re a bad father, but because our boys couldn’t wait to meet you and came a little earlier than expected. All you talked about was our boys. You loved them and wanted to hold them. You adore them and everyone can see that” “Then why could I remember then, when I can’t remember now!” “I don’t think you did remember. I think because you woke up and we were there, you knew you’d given birth and each time you saw someone, you wanted to show off our beautiful boys. You weren’t saying things like “yesterday”, you were talking about the future where we brought them down to meet everyone here. You also had a few seizures, which Colleen made a herbal medication to help with. You went through a hell of a lot to birth our boys, you need to give yourself a break” “I can’t take a break... they’re our sons, Keith. We waited so long. So many times they’re what kept me going and now they have me for some kind of messed up father and I don’t know if that’s good enough!” Starting to weep, Keith used a little of his extra strength to get Lance up and into his lap, with his arse on the ground and side against the half-Galra’s chest “You are strong and you are fierce. You love our boys. You spent hours singing to them, talking to them, being lost in your own little world with them” “How do I know it was real and not the drugs?” “Because those drugs have passed through your system. You didn’t have to feed the twins this morning. You didn’t have to have cuddles with them. Those were things you chose to do” “You... I... you don’t get it... I don’t... I woke up this morning feeling... I was to see them. I didn’t want to wake you. I knew I had to have messed up because you looked so exhausted. I don’t want... I don’t want to worry you and here I am... I want to... I just want to be good” “For a smart guy, right now I’d let Daehra call your an idiot a hundred time’s if that was what it took to make you realise that you are the best man I know” Lance turned his face from the fresh morning wind, his nose cold as he hid against the crook of Keith’s neck “No... no... You. You’re the best man. I love you so fucking much but I don’t remember and it’s all so confusing. There’s this itch under my skin and my head won’t shut up... and now you tell me I was high and now I know that’s what I want... right now I want to get high and forget that I’m so fucking useless... forget that I can’t remember anything... it’s so stupid” “Bumps happen” “My bump made our two boys. What do I tell them? Your father forgot the first days of your life and wanted to shoot up because he couldn’t cope?” “You tell them that you love them. If they were right here, and you had the choice between our boys and shooting up, I know you’d choose our boys. And you know how I know that, because you’re not that person that everything twisted you into anymore. Your brain is trying to cope, telling you to run to what’s comfortable. I’m scared too. I don’t know how to be a dad. You’ve got to be patient with me too... because honestly I’m quiznakking scared I’m going to fuck this up” Lance shook his head “You won’t. You won’t... you’re... you’re amazing. You’re more amazing than you think you are. You’ve always been amazing... You’re... you’re my world. My accidental husband and I’m so grateful every single day that it’s you” That wasn’t playing fair. He was the one worrying over Lance, Lance wasn’t that one who should be comforting him. Not with those sweet words that made him feel... amazing. As if he could really do this “You’re amazing too, babe. I couldn’t... I couldn’t have gone through labour. I watched and I felt so useless, but you... you brought these two boys into the world and I... I can’t be more fucking proud of you” “I hate not remembering. I hate it. I feel like I’ve been stripped of everything again...” “I know, but you haven’t. You have all of us. And we all understand how scary it can be. Maybe you could start a log? Write things down? Take photos? I can do the same” “It’s... I don’t know. I feel so fucking lost” “You’re not lost. I’m right here, idiot” “You know that’s not what I mean” Keith shrugged, he did but that didn’t hide the slight smile in Lance’s tone when it came to “scolding” him “Do I? You know, for missing the sunset, the view is still pretty amazing” “You didn’t miss the sunset, you missed the sunrise. How did you even find me?” “Jorge said you went for a walk, so I took a wild stab in the dark” “He told you, didn’t he?” “Is it so bad that he did?” “No. No. I just... I wish I could remember. I don’t want to forget this” Other than the tears, I kind of was. The sun was slowly turning the world into its right hues. Lance was cuddled up in his lap and “Then I’ll remind you. As many times as you need. Now, have you told Allura all about our boys?” “I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know what to say to Kre’el either. We never found her planet. It’s been over a year and we never even got close” Kissing Lance’s hair, Keith hummed lightly, Kre’el was a topic that no amount of time would ease. He hated her, yet maybe even found a little sliver of respect for her along the way. Perhaps it was experiencing Lance’s pregnancy and the fact he wasn’t sure he’d be able to function if anything was to happen to one of their boys, let alone how it’d tear him to pieces to watch them suffer and die... He didn’t think he’d ever be able to move past the trauma of a loss like that “I know, but that doesn’t mean that one day we won’t. That one day someone won’t, and when they do, they’re going to know her story. I wish we could have too, but... maybe she would have been happier with how things played out? That you’re a father now, with two little boys that mean the world to us?” “Yeah. Maybe... sitting here... I started thinking about the last time my memory was this bad... about... how much...” Lance shook his head. Keith not knowing where he was going with what he was about to say “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here to listen” “Can we... can we just sit like this a little longer? I don’t know what to say... it’s getting all busy again” “That’s fine. Mami sent a thermos expecting us to take our time. Our boys are happily sleeping. We can take as much time as we need” A few moments passed, Lance wriggling slightly as he got comfortable. Slowly his tears dried up, his weight melting into Keith’s hold “Keith?” “Yeah, babe?” “I love you. I don’t think I can forget that. I don’t want to ever forget that” “You won’t. Keith and Lance, neck and neck for life” “You’re such an idiot” “Yep. The idiot to your idiot” “It’d be nice if you weren’t quite this bad” “Nah. You’re fine the way you are” “You’re the fine one... maybe I just needed this?” “Anytime” Watching the sunrise further, Keith decided to simply let his husband nap when he fell asleep in his arms. Lance had seemed a little nervous over starting a diary of sorts, so Keith took it upon himself. Using the same folder as the photos and videos of their boys, he created a sub folder, then fought his way through the struggle of creating a document inside. Unable to remember the date and having used all his effort in creating the document, the half-Galra simply titled it “One”. Skipping the previous day, Keith went about making dot points of their day so far. Lance waking before him. Lance feeding the boys and spending time with Mami. Lance deciding he needed to trek half the quiznakking farm so he could have some “alone” time. He wasn’t great at injecting humour into his messages, like Lance was, but he made the attempt. If worse came to worst, maybe Lance would find it sweet in a dopey kind of way. All he could do at this point was hope, and hope that his hard earned document had actually saved. * Spending the morning with Keith eased some of Lance’s anxieties. He was in Italy disorientate from waking up in his husband’s lap atop the hill, but Keith was there to soothe him with soft kisses. He was in Cuba. He was in Cuba visiting his family and it wasn’t some kind twisted dream. He knew Mami would be fussing over the twins if they’d woken while the pair of them were absent, but that didn’t alleviate the anxiety building from neither of them being with their baby boys. Snippets of the conversation with Keith had lingered, his husband far too caring and understanding when it came to massive gaps in his memory. He didn’t understand how Keith could accept he’d lost a whole week of their lives, even though his argument over Lance being drugged up held credence. He’d seen himself. He’d seen himself and cringed over the fact no one had thought to gag his run away mouth. He felt stupid for the things he’d let slip, and somewhat lame over the whole thing. Keith made that better. His mental battle regarding how lame his husband found him was silenced by his husband’s sweet kisses. Keith knew. Keith knew and he still looked at him so tenderly it hurt. With Keith supporting him they left the hill. His back wasn’t appreciative of how far he’d trekked that morning, nor was his right leg. If Keith noticed how much of Lance’s weight he was supporting he hadn’t drawn attention to it, for which Lance was eternally grateful. Plenty of people gave birth in far worse circumstances than he had, and as long as Keith touches weren’t sexual in nature, he could let himself enjoy his presence. He had the vague recollection of waking half hard and practically fleeing from beside Keith’s side, yet he couldn’t say if it was that morning, or some other time his memory had dragged out of the archives. Luckily Keith was too focused on the boys to think anything sexual... and... and that fed his anxieties also. He was scared. His heat would eventually come back. He and Keith would eventually have sex again, but the thought alone nearly sent him into a melt down. When Keith finally wanted to get intimate again, Lance didn’t know how he’d react. He’d tried so hard not to let fear rule his life, yet there it was like one of his ugly scars. He couldn’t hide it. He couldn’t talk about it. The last thing he wanted was to weigh more heavily on Keith’s mind when Keith should be enjoying every moment of being a father. If only their past selves could see them now. If only Keith’s younger self could see how much of a natural he was, then maybe they’d never have had those small hiccups of insecurity. His husband was the most caring and generous man he knew... which was yet another stone in the long road of anxiety woven through his brain. He shouldn’t have to feel like Keith was only staying with him out of obligation, not when Keith would have moved the whole universe if it meant making him smile. No. These were the thoughts best forgotten, if only his mind would let him, so leaving them unsaid was the best thing he could do for the ones he loved. By the time they reached the farm house, Lance was sweating. His body felt cold, almost clammy, but with the sweat rolling down his brow he knew he had to be overheating from over exhaustion. It was a long wall at the best of times. He couldn’t even remember if he’d talked to Allura or simply slept in Keith’s arms. Maybe Keith had talked to her for both of them as he’d slept... but he wasn’t sure Keith believed that Allura’s spirit was out there somewhere. Wherever it was, it certainly wouldn’t be atop that hill at his family farm. Letting Keith take his boots off for him, his husband stole a surprise kiss before adjusting the blanket that’d been slipping off his shoulders. The smile on Lance’s lips was genuine, and a little out of shock. It felt as if Keith had read his mind when he’d stolen the kiss, that he’d seen him beginning to grow anxious over seeing his family for breakfast. Mami may want the best for him, but food was an issue after being on a liquid diet. He had to eat slow to keep it down, but in such a large family eating slowly meant someone was likely to poach your meal before you got there. Especially when it came to Marco who was a perpetual bottomless pit. Walking into the kitchen, everyone else was awake. Marco had one of the twins in his arms, pulling stupid faces at the little boy, while Mami had his other son on her shoulder as she bustled around cooking what seemed to be pancakes. Daehra and Lucteal both sat at the table, Daehra laughing at Marco’s stupidity. He’d missed them. He’d missed them like crazy. He missed their adventures and he missed his outpost. Being with Keith was where he’d wanted to be, but that didn’t mean he didn’t long for the small slice of space he and his team had carved out for themselves. Turning from her place in front of the oven, his mother smiled at the pair of them, Lance itching to take his son from her shoulder. He wanted to hold him, but he also wanted to hide behind him. To let mothering his boy be his sole distraction from his family, that way he could still be there, yet he could work up to having the courage to interact with everyone, not just sit down and be automatically talked to “There you two are! Now go ahead and wash up, I’m making pancakes, the others already had their first round, and our little men have had two bottles each this morning. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, no it doesn’t, does it my handsome little man” Lance let Keith answer for both of them “Thanks for that, Mami. I’d forgotten how amazing the view of the farm is from the hill” “It’s not much, but it is home” Lance wanted to disagree. The farm had been his entire world. To him it was the most amazing place on the planet, followed closely by Keith’s shack and Curtis’s family cabin “No. No... it’s... it’s nice. Nothing at all like living on Daibazaal. Living there means a constant supply of black and purple, it all looks the same” Marco snorted “Is that why I hear you’re constantly getting lost?” ““Directionally Challenged” is what Lance calls it. It’s not my fault that every damn corridor looks the same” “Riiiiight. I hear you also like getting lost at the Outpost, and on the farm” If Lance had been up to it, he’d have liked to tease Keith over getting lost on the castle too. Instead he kept his mouth shut and shuffled over to the sink as his mother turned to his brother “Marco, leave your brother alone. Keith, it’s fine dear. You’re part of the family, the farm is your family home too now” “I know, Mami. I’ll wash my hands then I’ll take him off yours while you cook” “Nonsense. Sit, relax. I’ve been doing this since before you were born. Lance was cuddler when he was small. He’d cry and cry if you put him down” “So not much has changed, isn’t that right, babe?” “Yeah” Lance’s reply came as low mumble. Memories of Allura coming to dinner came to mind. He’d so desperately wanted her to like him, that he’d been gutted when even his family couldn’t see him as anymore more than the unwanted, loud, obnoxious goof ball that he was. He’d been so embarrassed that he wouldn’t have surprised if Allura had changed her mind about dating him on the spot. Breakfast was stressful. Keith managed to get Marco to hand over their son, Lance had tried to be enthused over his pancakes, but felt like an outcast as the others talked around him. Both Daehra and Lucteal were picking up on his emotions, and the more down he seemed to get, the more Keith seemed to try and perk him up. Lance appreciated his husband’s efforts, he did. He knew Keith was only trying to help by distracting him from sinking too far into his head, but it was hard when wanted to cuddle his boys instead of bonding with his family. Though having done nothing to warrant it, he felt emotionally raw, almost as if he’d confessed every little thing in his head to his family only to be laughed at, not knowing why he felt so exposed, he abandoned his pancakes, hands going to his lap where he scratched at the inside of his right wrist unconsciously. Why couldn’t he be holding his son? Why was he so jealous that his husband was holding their baby boy? Keith deserved this. He deserved to brag about how cute the little boy in his arms was. He deserved to laugh with the others over nappy changes, and late night feeds. He deserved to brag about finally being a father when he’d been in love with them and their tiny hands since the first scan. Dios. He was such a miserable loser “Babe?” Nope. He needed to calm himself down. Whatever Keith wanted needed to wait. Closing his eyes, Lance scratched harder, the exact opposite of calming himself though he did rein in his breathing. He needed an out. He needed an out so Keith wouldn’t see how fucked up he was feeling. Lance didn’t understand how he could possibly feel so miserable when he had such a perfect little family. He’d already give his life for his sons, he’d give it a thousand time’s over for them and not blink an eye. It was just this bullshit petty jealousy that has bloomed in his chest like a noxious weed that was ruining everything. It spreading tendrils clutch at his lungs with it spiked limbs, it’s blooms choking his throat as it swelled into life. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel this way. Not when he was in Cuba with his family, not when this was their twins first trip to the country he loved so much. With a slight scraping Lance pushed his chair back, momentarily light headed as he stood too fast “Lance?” “I need a minute” Smooth. Way to not make everyone worry about him. He’d always been an idiot, and now he was the idiot stealing everyone’s happiness. Fleeing to the living room, Lance threw himself down on the furthest corner of the sofa. Drawing his legs up, he drove the heels of his palms into his eyes, attempting to force that weed out with deep breaths. Keith adored the twins. Keith adored him. Keith adored both him and their boys. His family adored Keith. His family adored the twins. His family... liked him? No. No... “Lance?” Jumping at the sound of his papi’s voice, Lance wasn’t sure what to do. The Cuban still wasn’t sure as his father sat down beside him, slinging an arm over his shoulder and drawing him into a hug. Normally his Mami would be doing this, but the moment his papi pulled him close he melted against him “Papi... I’m sorry” “Now my boy, what’s there to be sorry about?” “Everything” His papi gave a weird kind of breathy laugh. Lance had been so close to him when he’d been a kid. He loved his Mami, but his papi had been his hero before Shiro had come along “You know, I don’t know much about what’s going on, but I do think that’s an overstatement” “Maybe...” At least it was an “overstatement” and not an “overreaction”

[imaginationlane]

The Assistant [Part 7 of ? // Bill Skarsgard x Reader Imagine]

Warnings: Adult Language / Themes, Angst, Sexually Suggestive References & Minimal Gore References (in relation to a dream / nightmare sequence).

Author’s Notes:  Because I know that a lot of you have been waiting forever for this, I am back and I am so sorry for the wait. This chapter was supposed to be posted a little while ago, but I wanted to tweak it as this chapter will be important, and has major plot developments -- that will have an effect on future chapters. Plus, the wonderful, talented and amazing @andthereisawoman just recently created a new cover for this fic for me -- that I can’t stop marveling at! How wonderful is this new cover, guys? I’m in love, and I’ve officially found my forever cover lol. 

As for this chapter: I will say this, it opens up with a dream / nightmare sequence in Bill's POV -- and the nightmare sequence alone has given me the most hell with this chapter. You guys have no earthly idea how much of a fight that this one scene gave me, for an entire year lol. 

Also, the nightmare sequence sort of plays into the fact that Bill admitted shortly after the first IT movie came out, that he had nightmares for a few weeks after filming. While this nightmare will not be centric to the IT film in any way, I can say that the stress of playing such a complex character, and well... an affair, are heavily contributing factors in this scene in the story. 

Finally, I’d like to give a big “thank you” to @theswedishblonde for her time in translating several of these dialog lines into Swedish for me. I really and truly, couldn’t do this without their help, and I sincerely appreciate the time they afford to me, whenever I need their help! 

I’d also like to publicly thank @poeedamerons & @greenofallshades for literally putting up with my incessant back and forth on this nightmare sequence -- for the past year on Whatsapp lol. Also not tagged (because she’s not here on Tumblr), but no less important, Tav!

Musical Inspiration: I Still Wait For You by: XYLO

Missed the previous chapters and need to catch up? Please check out The Assistant -- Masterlist, here.

Summary:

A night out on the town for a few drinks, was all I had signed up for. But in reality… I got way more than I had ever bargained for when my boss and close personal friend, Bill Skarsgard, asked me to join him during a wrap party that the crew was hosting that night. In hindsight, I should have seen this coming. After all, we were both having issues in our own respective relationships and for some reason, we had found it easier to just confide in each other – rather than in our own significant others. Yet in the end, do the reasons ever truly matter when you begin an affair with your friend who also happens to be your boss? I often ask myself just how selfish could we be; he and I? The answer is: we’re completely selfish and neither of us really cares if this secret burns us alive – because it’s within each other, that we have finally found the things we had been looking for the whole time…

___

Stockholm, Sweden --

Feather-light kisses sprinkled themselves carelessly, all over Bill's shoulders and chest, as he began to stir out of his sleep. Gently luring him out of his serene slumber, a pressing weight could be felt on top of him, as he shifted his body to stretch out on the mattress slightly. Soon enough though, those sweet innocent kisses that he felt tickling against his skin, turned into open-mouthed pecks; leaving a small trail of saliva exposed to the open air. Closer and closer, the affectionate kisses drifted towards his mouth before finally -- Bill opened one eye and peeked at the woman who was adorning his body so tenderly with affection, this morning. Y/N's hair was marginally messy, but in spite of that minuscule detail, she was still a vision of absolute beauty to him. A content sigh filtered through his nose, while a peaceful smile inched its way across his face.

"Good morning to you too," he mumbled gingerly, as she peered up at him and returned his smile with one of her own.

"Mmmm... Good morning baby."

He could tell by her voice that she was perfectly happy, and had probably been awake a little longer than he had. In this perfect moment, there were no worries and absolutely no stress; it was just tranquil bliss. Everything with her was so easy. It always had been, and he was legitimately sorry that it had taken him so long to see it; yet, it was undeniable to him that he was happy that he had finally gotten out of his own way -- and made her his.

Streams of golden sunlight poured through the flimsy and airy curtains, while a gentle breeze blew into the room from the cracked bedroom window. Their home was one he didn't completely recognize, but instinctively, he knew it was theirs. It was a perfect late spring morning, and he could almost smell the scent of freshly cut grass lingering in the air. The tranquilizing sound from the wind chimes outside, meandered throughout the room, as he took a deep breath in from his nostrils; feeling the air expand in his chest. He could smell her faint perfume from the night before; and it instantly made him want her in the worst way -- all over again. Judging from her actions, however, he deduced that he wasn't the only one in the mood again this morning.

Grabbing her face with both hands, he pulled Y/N up towards him -- closing the gap between them and kissed her ever so affectionately. Bill could feel her relax into his warm embrace; coxing out a renewed spark of passion from him. Her breathy little moan, virtually undid him right then and there as his tongue intertwined with hers. Before he knew it, he pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her perfect body that he couldn't get nearly enough of. Y/N broke the kiss just long enough to pull her tank top over her, and Bill was more than pleased to assess that she wasn't wearing a bra. For a moment, he closely contemplated telling her that there was a new rule between them: She was no longer allowed to wear any bras. It had to be considered a crime against nature to keep something as magnificent as her breasts, hidden under such an annoying and burdensome garment.

Returning his attention to the task at hand, Bill's lust-filled eyes wandered back to the gorgeous woman in his arms; a woman he simply couldn't function without -- no matter how hard he tried. Her breath came out as ragged pants and gasps, as he continued kissing her neck and working his way down to her perfectly shaped peaks.

"As much as I'm enjoying this attention, and trust me Bill, I'm enjoying the hell out of this -- I did leave our breakfast on the stove," she hummed softly, hoping to divert his attention away from his task.

Begrudgingly, he pulled away; not wanting to actually stop just yet -- but willing to do so if she insisted.

"Is it still cooking or is it already made, and just waiting on us? Because if it's already done, I don't see why we just can't keep going," he chuckled lightly, causing her to giggle as well. Gingerly, she pushed him back once more.

"It's still cooking, babe. I just came in here to wake you up. But I'll make you a deal... I'll go finish preparing the rest of our breakfast, without my top on -- and you can even watch. Deal?"

He had to admit, the promise of watching her prepare breakfast topless, was a tempting prospect indeed.

"Fine," he sighed tiredly, moving off towards the side and allowing her to get up. Y/N slid off of the bed, leaving her shirt abandoned on the floor; just as she had previously promised with a wicked little glint in her eyes.

"Get up slowpoke, you don't want to miss out on this..." She teased back, hoping to coax him out of bed faster.

Bill smirked at her; stretching his long limbs across the bed as he watched her tiptoe out of the bedroom. The muscles in her back flexed elegantly, while she made her way out the door and into the hallway -- closing the bedroom door behind her. Running a hand over his face, he laid there for a moment trying to collect himself before heading out to join her. After all, she did leave him in a semi-hard state, and he was tempted to follow her out there and bend her over the kitchen counter to take care of this pesky problem. Smirking to himself, he couldn't get over how lucky he felt in that moment. She was here, with him, and there was nothing in this world that could kill this joyous feeling he felt. Everything felt whole and right within the world.

Y/N was perfect in every single way, and she was finally his. He had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity for this; and If the rest of his life would play out this way, then Bill found himself hard-pressed to find anything to complain about...

Throwing the covers off of his slender, yet muscular body, he sat straight up and tossed his legs off the side of his bed -- running his right hand through his messy bed hair. The moment his bare feet touched the floor, it was only then that he noticed the entire floor was soaked through with murky water. Finding himself absolutely perplexed by this, he leaned his head off to the side -- trying to discern what exactly was going on.

"Y/N? Why is the floor all wet?" He curiously called out to his lover.

However a moment or two went by, and there was no response at all; which was highly unusual.

"Y/N?" He hollered out once more, hoping to grab her attention. And yet again, there was no reply.

Now, Bill was finding himself feeling apprehensive at the situation.

Where the hell was she?

Soon thereafter, he gave up hope that she would even return to their room; so he stood up and proceeded to walk over towards the bedroom door; all the while, dirty water sloshed around his feet -- causing him to grimace. But it wasn't until the very second, once he opened that wooden bedroom door, that he knew something was inherently and terribly wrong.

It took more than a moment for the sights, sounds and smells to genuinely register within his mind; regardless, once they did – there was truly no mistaking the atrociously horrifying scene that laid before him. Everything that had once resembled the hallway in their shared home, was gone. Instead, it looked as if either a bomb had gone off, or a storm had come through and ripped their home to shreds. Large parts of the wall were either cracked, knocked over and completely blackened. Broken picture frames were either smashed on the floor, with glass shattered like intricate spider webs in the frames or hanging lopsided on the only parts of the walls that were left standing. Wires that were once hidden away, out of sight and out of mind, were now exposed and dangling carelessly from the ceiling; and randomly placed holes seemed to have appeared in different parts of that very same roof -- from out of nowhere. Electrical sparks shot freely from the exposed wires and flew only a few precious feet ahead; their loud pops and bright flashes caused him to jump back violently and turn his face away momentarily.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had happened or even how he had even missed it happening. He should have heard the unmistakable sounds of his house being ripped apart, shouldn’t he? None of it made any sense, and he was left second-guessing himself on if he was actually seeing all of this.

"What the f..."

He couldn't even finish his sentence before the shock finally began to set in, and the bone-crushing chill in the air made the hairs on his arms stand at attention. Something wasn't right about this, and now, he was beginning to feel afraid for both himself and Y/N. Eventually, he took a hesitant step forward, causing the water that swished around his bare feet to echo slightly in the darkened and damaged corridor. Once he took another step ahead though, the bedroom door that he had just walked out of slammed shut behind him with a resounding and thunderous bang -- causing him to leap back into the nearest wall. With his heart hammering wildly within his chest, his eyes glanced back at the door in wide-eyed surprise. After he managed to take a brief moment to calm his nerves, he rushed back over to the door trying to open it, only to discover that it wouldn't budge. It was well and truly stuck; almost as if someone had sealed it shut -- from the inside.

No matter how hard he tugged, pushed, pulled or rammed his shoulder against the door -- it refused to give. Bill soon found himself surrendering hope on the idea of trying to get the door to open for him again, and instead, he turned his attention back to the eerily dark and smelly hallway before him. The odors that hit him were rancid and offensive; practically singeing off his nose hairs, and if he had to take a guess, he wouldn't be surprised if the wastewater from the sewer had managed to get backed up into the house -- thanks to whatever had caused all of the damage that he saw all around him. Treading lightly and thoughtfully, he decided to press on and try to locate Y/N and find out what exactly happened here.

"Alright, pull your shit together," his quiet words, served as the only other sound around him with the obvious exception of the electrical pops being thrown off from the nearby wires. Without a shadow of a doubt, he swiftly figured out that he needed to get his bearings in order if he had any hope of making it out of here alive. "You're going to find Y/N, and you're going to get the hell out of here." Yet, in the grand scheme of it all, he wasn't entirely sure if his words were meant to convince himself that things weren't as bad as they looked -- or if they were meant to be a source of self-comfort instead.

Large chunks of knocked over drywall, littered and blocked his path; meaning he would have to crawl over certain spots in order to make it to the other parts of the house. To make matters worse, a haze of smoke filled the small area, making it increasingly more difficult to breathe or see. Nor was that even mentioning the fact that he carefully needed to navigate around the loosing and hanging wires, that were in his way. One wrong move and he could either get a cut on his foot from something hidden in the water, accidentally electrocute himself, or potentially fall over something laying across the walkway. Nevertheless, with his mind made up, he gently prodded his foot forward in order to feel around before taking his next step; hoping that nothing would nic or cut himself in the process.

More statically charged, popping noises exploded from the looming and threatening wires nearby. Just when he thought the situation couldn't get any worse, he noticed how low one of the wires on his left, was hanging dangerously close to the wet floor. Refusing to take any chances at becoming electrocuted, he hastened his efforts to make it past the first piece of wall that was blocking his path. Luckily for him, it was only slanted against the other wall that sat on the opposite side. And as it turned out, this piece would be a lot easier to get by, because all he had to do was duck down and crawl underneath it.

He felt his stomach grow queasy at the idea of crawling through potential wastewater, but the fear of potential death was an excellent motivator in getting Bill to tough it out and complete the simple task that laid before him.

Once his hands hit the water, he had to stop for a minute to give his shaky limbs time to adjust to the temperature. The water felt frigid to the touch, and it was a miracle that his feet hadn't gone numb already. Determination propelled him forward, and steadily, he slid his hands onward under the water; mindfully looking out for any objects that could likely injure him. As soon as he emerged out from under the large piece of drywall, he stood back up and attempted to wipe the gunk from his hands and on his soaked, flannel pajama pants. Of course, it had been in vain, but he couldn't think about that at the moment; there other more pressing matters to worry about.

Coincidentally, there weren't as many exposed wires the further he drifted down the hall, but there were more fragments of burnt cream-colored drywall and wood, that was obstructing the pathway. The next two pieces were large, cracked and sitting side by side, and they required him to meticulously crawl over them -- without possibly falling through and hurting himself on whatever lied underneath. Parts of the insulation were strewn about all over the place, and the smoke was making it harder to breathe. It was a painstakingly slow process, but he managed to lay his body flat against the piece of plaster and wood; pulling himself across the planks with ease.

After he made it over the obstacles and back on his feet, the film of unforgiving smoke started to miraculously dissipate; thankfully allowing him to see a boldly, extravagant tree -- standing right in front of him. Bill stood there with his mouth gaping, feeling dumbfounded and transfixed at the mighty and wondrous sign of life before him; all the while trying to specifically figure out how a fully grown tree -- managed to grow in the middle of his fucking house. It stood there vibrantly, with its dark green leaves standing out brilliantly in a perfect juxtaposition to the wasted wreckage that laid all around him. Instantly giving in to his more inquisitive nature, he seemingly forgot the need to be conscious of where he stepped, as he made his way over towards the tree. It was only after he stepped closer to it, that he realized that it was actually an apple tree.

The magnificent apple tree had have been just over 30 feet tall, with ripe fruit good for the taking. In a moment of all-encompassing awe, he reached out with his right hand and plucked down the first captivating apple that caught his eye. The fruit was a beautiful scarlet red in color, and heavy to the touch. Without even thinking, he was overwhelmed with the urge to take a bite; but before he could -- another apple also snagged his wayward attention. Suddenly, he extended his left hand up and picked off the fruit from the branch as well. This particular one may have been smaller in size, but it was no less pretty or appealing to him.

He stared in fascination, at the apples in both of his hands, utterly blown away by the fact that something so amazing could survive whatever happened here.

It was only after he let out a sigh, that he finally heard it. A noise so uncharacteristic and out of place, that he had to wonder if he had only imagined it.

Quietly, he listened to the sounds that were taking place all around him -- noticing that something was off in the atmosphere. It took a few seconds, but he finally heard that peculiar noise again. It sounded as if something was weakly tapping against a hallowed surface. Curiosity got the better of him, effectively causing him to turn his head to look over his right shoulder. Sure enough, sitting behind the dark, overcast shadows of the room, there was a closed-door that appeared to slightly jolt forward against the frame -- every time the knocking was heard. Inching closer to it, he tried to remain as silent as possible while straining to hear the sound once more. He couldn't be certain if there was a person in there or not. Just as he arrived in front of the door, a loud whisper broke through the intense silence of the room; forcing him to halt in his tracks.

"Don't look back."

The whispered command startled him; causing him to turn his gaze downward in an attempt to subtly peek back over his shoulder. The energy in the room had changed ominously, whilst the air began cackling all around him; practically demanding him to fight against the urge to shut his own eyes. However, the millisecond his glossy eyes drifted down, it was then that he saw the haunting sight that he never expected to encounter. There, in his own hands were no longer two lovely apples he had picked earlier, but instead -- were two warm, slimy and crimson-stained human hearts. A terrified scream tore from his lips; causing him to drop the bloodied hearts into the murky water below -- and turn back around to find the most horrific display he had ever seen in his life...

The once pristine apple tree he was staring at not only one minute ago, was now dead. The leaves and apples had fallen off and onto the greywater saturated floor; instead, what was hanging on two strongest branches in their place -- were the deceased bodies of Y/N and Natalia. Both women looked to be hanging by their necks. Their chests appeared to be hacked open and exposed, with blood still dripping down the front of their white-colored dresses. Horrified by what was happening, Bill quickly stepped back; unable to comprehend the ghastly situation that was playing out in front of his very eyes. His left foot, caught on one of the hearts that was laying behind him, causing him to lose his footing and topple backward; landing harshly on his backside in the filthy water. The confusion and despair that shot through his mind, was raw and unparalleled.

This felt real, too real; and he was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack as he realized that when he took what he thought to be apples from this tree -- he was actually ripping their hearts directly from their chests.

Thanks to the horrendous vision in front of him, he couldn't breathe -- much less process what was happening. His eyes filled with tears, as the numbness silently crept in. The skin on both ladies was pale and void of any signs of life, plus their hair was matted to their heads. If he had to take a guess at how long they had been displayed in that tree, Bill would have assumed they had been dead for hours. Blood was splattered haphazardly across their faces, as their toes were tipped and pointed to the ground. He felt his own stomach bile beginning to rise up to his mouth; leaving an unpleasant burning sensation, scratching at the back of his throat -- yearning for an impromptu escape. The tragically twisted view before him had robbed him of all rational, and sensible thought, as he peered up at their lifeless bodies -- and screamed out once more. 

Abruptly, and with next to no warning whatsoever, Natalia's eyes snapped open; causing Bill to jump back and let out another scared and confused yelp. Her light grey, cataracted eyes, drew his attention away from the gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.

"Come back to me, Bill."

Her voice was strained, while she struggled to call out to him.

He inched closer to her bruised and battered body, whilst wondering how just how on Earth she could even be alive. Those few precious steps, though, were all it took; allowing Natalia to finally reach out and grab his shoulder in her vice-like, death grip -- causing him to cry out in pain, as her nails embedded themselves deep within his tender flesh.

"Come back!"

___

Sitting in her living room, Natalia was calmly smoking a cigarette and watching the smoke waft around, silently drifting deftly out of the window -- and into the cool and dampened, pre-dawn air. She rarely smoked inside her home, but at the moment she didn't particularly care about abiding by her day to day rules. If anything, she needed the preferred release that only nicotine could provide for her nerves. While she snuggled further down comfortably in her favorite chair, she watched the glowing purple and pink hues, light up the early morning skies above her.

A huge part of her plan, would be going into effect today; and depending upon Bill's reaction to what she had coming -- it would also determine if she managed to adequately see the rest of her plan through or not. There was a relatively sizeable chance, that after she enacted this crucial part of her plan -- he could end up splitting up with her. However, it didn't matter because this was a risk she had to take. Admittedly, some part of her, sincerely wondered if he would even do such a thing. He had been home for well over a week and a half now, and he hadn't bothered to end things with her yet. She couldn't help but wonder why.

Why was he dragging ass on this?

It was a question that had been burning in the back of her mind lately. In her view, it was obvious to her from the start, that he had always had long-buried feelings for Y/N. The fact that he hadn't mentioned one measly thing to her about taking a break, being unfaithful, or splitting up for good since he had been back home -- had made her insanely curious into his reasons on why he was staying quiet about this. 

Was there a part of him that had legitimately grown to love her? Was he having trouble coming to grips with what he had done to their relationship? Was he feeling guilty about what had happened, and was it eating him alive? She pettily hoped so. More importantly, did he have hidden doubts about Y/N? There had to be a reason, some semblance of an explanation there, and he was doing a great job at leaving her in the dark -- which was not something Natalia appreciated in the slightest.

These days, she had elected to sleep on the couch; pretending to be catching up with her work and wanting to get things done while she had the chance to do so. Thus, in the process, giving herself ample time and space away from Bill -- in order to sort herself out. Actually attaining any sleep though, was practically impossible; and these days, it was beginning to show. However, she was talented enough at masking the dark circles under eyes with concealer and other makeup products, all the while maintaining her regular schedule of activities and appearances. Ever since the first night he arrived back to her shared apartment, and she had attempted to lightly seduce him into bed and he shot the idea down, only for her to discover the reasons why in Ace's email to her after he left their apartment -- she had decided to distance herself from the idea of being intimate with him anyway. It would only put both of them in an awkward position; one that not even she was ready to face herself. Natalia knew he would possibly rebuff her advances if she made any further attempts, making them both feel uncomfortable and embarrassed; plus, she was no longer in a frame of mind to allow him to touch her. He had betrayed her trust, and while she wasn't entirely innocent over the course of their relationship and she acknowledged that to herself privately -- she didn't exactly feel right about rewarding his shitty behavior with sex either.

Not to mention, he wasn't even fucking smart enough to not get himself caught.

The thought alone, caused her to roll her eyes in annoyance. 

Over the past several days, her mentally exhausting anguish was beginning to morph into silent fury and anger. If she could get through the rest of this day, with their relationship still intact, then she stood a chance of making sure that she could end this bullshit affair of his -- once and for all. By the time she would be done, Bill's choice would be made for him. And if she were lucky, she would be getting Y/N out of the picture for good.

From across the hall, it was the sound of strained moaning coming from the bedroom, startled her out of her perpetual trance-like state. Remarkably, the noises had sounded as though Bill were distressed. Natalia quickly stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette, tossing it outside and closing her window, as she silently tip-toed over to their shared bedroom door. Leaning her head against the door, her eyes fluttered shut as she concentrated on listening to what was going on inside the bedroom. The moans were becoming progressively more distressed. Going against her better judgment, she slowly clasped the brass handle within her small hand and opened the door -- taking in the scene before her. Bill was laying on their bed, tossing and thrashing about, almost as if he were trapped inside of another hellish nightmare. He had been having them a lot more frequently over the past week. For a second, she wondered just how much his role of playing a psychopathic, child-eating clown in a horror movie -- had potentially messed with his head.

If that were the case, it could certainly explain some of the changes in his behavior recently...

Thinking quickly on her feet, she briskly walked over to his side of the bed and snapped on the bedside lamp sitting neatly on top of her black nightstand. She reached out timidly and slowly began to rub his shoulder; calling out his name.

"Baby, wake up. You're having a bad dream," she mumbled quietly, trying not to startle him out of his dream. It took a few moments, but it finally worked.

Bill shot straight up in the bed, gasping for much-needed air and clawing at his chest. His heart thundered wildly against the breastplate of his chest, and he felt beads of sweat pouring down his face. Off to his left, he saw her... Natalia. And thankfully, she was alive and well.

"Hey, it's me! Calm down! Du har bara haft en mardröm, du kommer bli bra," Natalia tenderly assured him as she pulled herself closer to him, if only in order to help him realize that he wasn't dreaming anymore. Noticing that he was squinting while he attempted to look over at her, she reached back over to the lamp -- quickly snapping it back off as to not hurt his delicate, sleep-ridden eyes.

As furious as Natalia had been with Bill over the past few days, since she found out about his affair with his assistant, she did feel some slight remorse that he was having recurring nightmares over the past several nights. It was obvious to her that his role, of playing Pennywise, had taken a lot out of him -- both mentally and physically.

A part of her, felt a tad bit silly for even caring about his comfort at the moment; particularly given what she had just found out only a week or so prior. But the other half of her, even through the indescribable anger she felt churning away below the surface, did still care about him. At the moment, however, she had to push those warring feelings to the side, because it was imperative that she keep up the appearance -- at all costs.

"Baby, it's okay. Du är säker," she cooed faintly, pulling him into her embrace.

Bill, on the other hand, didn't catch onto her conflicting temperament. His mind was still racing, from the awful things he had experienced, and his breathing was still erratic. He felt her rubbing relaxing circles against his back, as his head rested against her shoulder; graciously taking a free moment of the peaceful serenity she offered to him.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

If she weren't paying attention at the time, she would have nearly missed his softly whispered apology. It was so faint that for a second -- she began to second guess her own hearing. His apology startled her; capturing her completely off guard and totally unaware. Her eyes widened in shock and surprise, causing her hand that was continuously rubbing soothing circles on his back -- to falter for a moment.

"Allt är bra, kom tillbaka till mig."

Almost as if on cue, a sweeping feeling of guilt started to creep into the deepest recesses of his very mind. As much as he cared for her, she wasn't Y/N. And it began to feel wrong to even take comfort in Natalia's reassuring arms. Taking solace in her embrace, wouldn't make what he needed to do, any easier -- in fact, it would be much harder on them both. In spite of that though, he couldn't deny that they did have a complex history together too.

Natalia had surprised him at a time when he least suspected it was possible. She had conveniently arrived in a disastrously messy period in his life, when he had all but given up on the idea of being able to find someone to take his mind off of the one woman he couldn't seem to have. Back then Y/N had John, who was an utter fool that couldn't even appreciate how good he genuinely had it with her, and even though that bastard didn't deserve her for a number of reasons, some that she wasn't even aware of yet, she appeared to be happy with him at that point in her life. It wasn't until shortly after he had gotten with Natalia, that he figured out just how wrong he was in that assessment on Y/N and John's relationship. Even with that knowledge, however, he couldn't bring himself to be selfish with her back then because her happiness actually meant something to him. But somehow, that managed to change for him recently. Now that things had changed and he had Y/N's affections, he knew it wouldn't be able to give it up. She was like a drink of fresh water, on a hot summer's day. There was no way in hell, he was passing up this opportunity to make her his.

When Natalia had shown up at that holiday party he was reluctantly attending, it had seemed like fate had opened up a new door full of opportunities and possibilities. Slowly, but ever so surely -- Bill found himself captivated by her charm and opening himself up to her. It was remarkable in the wonderfully unpredictable way that she managed to weave herself into his life. He couldn't lie, in the beginning, it felt as easy as breathing and he felt as if maybe he could finally get over the fact that he would never have Y/N. Admittedly, he would pull back at times, in the beginning, owing to the fact that it kind of freaked him out just how easy it was to turn to her in his moments of weakness. It was a feeling he wasn't quite used to with anyone else, outside of Y/N. But Natalia wasn't deterred by his reluctance, and she knew exactly how to push him out of his more elusive shell. It was something he had found himself respecting about her... At first.

As time went on though, certain things began to shift between them and it took a while for him to notice the things he had either never observed before -- or had simply overlooked during the time. While it was no secret that Natalia had an unrelenting Type-A personality, and it worked to her favor because she was smart enough to hone in on her emotions, it was also something that Bill really wasn't about on his own individual level. He gravitated more towards being a little more laid back, but also kept himself astonishingly well-organized. He went with the flow of the situations around him, whilst respecting the fluidity that life naturally offered; plus he liked to rationalize his decisions prior to making them, while quickly improvising and thinking on his feet when things changed -- much like Y/N did. It was a major reason why they worked together on both a professional and personal level. Their temperaments and approaches in life, were synced up and matched on a staggering level. Natalia, on the other hand, was incredibly analytical and tactical in her thinking, so when plans changed, she didn't like it as she generally strived to have control over a situation. Surprises tended to make her quite moody. In fact, just about two weeks ago, he had to talk her out of taking him on an impromptu trip to Greece -- when he had gotten back home.

She wanted a take him on a romantic getaway, just for the two of them with no distractions, within a day of him flying back home. It should have been obvious that it may have been cutting it a little close, however, the thought of that flew right over Natalia's head -- or she didn't care. On the other side of this proverbial two-headed coin, while he acknowledged that it was a sweet gesture, Bill had also wanted to spend time with his friends and family at home; catching up with the people he had missed for the past few months, due to his filming schedule. When he told her he was unsure about her idea to travel so far away from home, she didn't exactly take it too well. Of course, it should have gone without saying that the conversation had broken down into another strenuously heated argument between them. It was commonplace at this point. Natalia needed to have control over every situation; and it was something that, more often than not -- had rubbed Bill the wrong way over the past year. At times, he felt her incessant need to have total control over every minuscule aspect of their daily lives and activities, became downright disrespectful; made him feel kind of like his voice shouldn't fundamentally matter. Moreover, it was getting especially annoying since their disagreements almost always were dissolving into screaming matches; matches that left him feeling drained and where he would have to be the first one to apologize -- even when it wasn't his fault. It felt as if she couldn't accept any faults in the issues at hand, and it had been taking its toll on him.

His problem though, was that he hadn't properly communicated any of this. The only time he had said anything to her, was in the middle of their epic meltdowns. Bill was now realizing just how badly he fucked up, and it wasn't a smooth pill to swallow or digest.

This wasn't even counting the times she tried to ask him to get rid of Y/N as an assistant, or to essentially break their ties of friendship altogether. Those requests alone, back in the beginning when Natalia sincerely didn't have anything to worry about back then seeing as Y/N was wrapped up in a committed relationship, damn near drove him up a wall.

Nor, was he even mentioning the fact that over the past few months, she had been putting an astronomical amount of pressure on him to start house hunting with her; as if he didn't already have a jam-packed schedule as it was -- this new issue began to spark off new arguments too. Since their engagement, which was quickly becoming the biggest regret he had in all of this, getting him to commit to buying a new home with her had become her top priority recently and her reasoning was solid on the surface: If they would be getting married, it made perfect sense for them to buy a house together.

Bill understood that, on the surface level. It was the logical next step after all. And he would also be lying if he didn't admit that something was holding him back. He wasn't committing to it, even before things with Y/N started evolving to where they were right now.

Had they really both inherently doomed their relationship, from the start? Bill was beginning to suspect they had. His role, however, was entirely on him. His reluctance to pull the trigger, put his foot down and be more open with his himself, his emotions and face every single little thing he was thinking, feeling and experiencing in between -- that was all on him. That part, would never be on Natalia or Y/N. He needed to own up to that, or else he was doomed to repeat the same mistakes.

He knew what he had to do, but as he thought back to his hellish nightmare -- he felt afraid. He didn't want to hurt Natalia, even though he had quickly been noticing that they wanted two very different things out of life. They may have had contradictory viewpoints with how they each carried themselves within their personal lives, or within their own personal goals and aspirations, but he didn't want to hurt her either.

As soon as Natalia pulled back from his embrace, Bill looked in deep into her pale blueish-grey eyes and noticed for the very first time -- just how tired she looked. There were bags and dark circles under her eyes, and she looked like she hadn't gotten a proper nights sleep in days. Remorse filled his soul, whilst he absorbed her rough appearance. Could she not see that she was miserable too? In a stunning moment of pure clarity, he sadly knew that if they continued down this road that they would end up resentful and potentially even hateful towards one another; and it was in realizing that agonizing fact, that he knew what had to be done. It was time to end this with her. And he would do it tonight, after their joint annual family dinner. Once they arrived back here, in the privacy of her apartment, he would sit her down and talk to her about everything.

He just prayed that she wouldn't hate him forever because of this...

_____

Laughter, merriment and mumbled sounds of social chatter could be heard, floating throughout the air of the Holm's country house -- as Bill and Natalia's family members conversed smoothly with one another in the light and airy dining room. Natalia knew that Bill had always appreciated this little ritual that both of their families came together for. Since he was gone quite a bit to North America, filming for projects, auditioning for others, or even doing press junkets -- Natalia enjoyed being able to pull their families together so they could catch up once Bill was back in town.

Candles were set up all around the dining room, bathing the room in a mild ethereal glow. The wine was flowing generously, and the ostentatious table was covered with a luscious satin white table cloth; proudly displaying a bountiful amount of culinary dishes that made her mouth water. The delicious aroma's caused her stomach to rumble; forcing her to acknowledge the fact that she hadn't eaten properly in days. She was surviving off coffee, water, cigarettes, and the occasional snack. Soon though, that would potentially be behind her -- if, of course, everything went accordingly to her plan. Being seated in front of such a feast, finally got her in the mood to fill up her plate and actually eat a decent meal for the first time in a week and a half.

Natalia's older sister, Agnes, was located across the table from her; holding her six-month-old daughter in her arms -- while her husband William sat to her left. Their younger brother Max, was seated off to the other side of William; thankfully engaging in a conversation with Bill's younger brother Valter. Both young men were in their prime, and not looking to settle down anytime soon; which meant they had more in common with each other -- than they did with anyone else at the table. Bill's younger sister Eija, sat off to Valter's right, with her long-time boyfriend. Both of them were enjoying a tender conversation together, and paying no attention to anyone else at the moment. Natalia smiled at them, as they looked so happy and in love with one another. And beside Eija’s boyfriend, was her own mother -- Monica Holm. Bill's mother, My, was seated to the right side of her father, Viktor Holm who sat at the head of the table. Gustaf and his new girlfriend were both seated on the left side of Bill, and right beside Gustaf's lovely lady, was Bill's eldest brother Alexander -- who also took his place beside their mother.

Opportunities to get everyone together like this, were exceptionally rare. And for a nervous Natalia, it all came down to this. The festivities were beginning to wind down, and soon, her father would begin the round of toasts to congratulate everyone on their newest accomplishments. Her parents were sticklers for positive reinforcement as they were growing up, so it was only natural that they not only continued their tradition after their children had all flown the nest -- but that they also brought the partners of their children on it as well.

Like clockwork, Natalia had just taken her third bite of the jordgubbstårta, that her mother had prepared as a dessert, before she heard the light tapping of a polished silver fork, knocking on a dazzling crystal wine glass -- coming from the head of the table. She smiled adoringly up at her father, as he stood up and locked eyes with her; giving her a wink to let her know he wouldn't mind if she wanted to continue eating. She had truly been the apple of his eye, and he always made sure that his children knew how much he loved them.

"I would like to propose a toast," Viktor began confidently. "For some time now, our two families have gotten together to catch up, enjoy delicious food and to spend quality time with the people we hold most dear to us. Monica and I, always enjoy when it’s our turn to host these dinners and we’re grateful for having you all here." He paused, taking a quick moment to glance adoringly towards his wife of over thirty years. "Bill, son, thank you for introducing all of us to your beautiful family who we have grown to care for as an extension of our own. To my wife, thank you for putting up with me as I destroy our kitchen trying to help you prepare for these gatherings," he gently lamented, as everyone else began to chuckle. "And to my children, you continue to make me proud with each passing day. Skål!"

Everyone raised their glasses, echoing his hospitable sentiments and clinking them together lightly with their neighbors -- before taking a sip at the contents within each of their cups. Time passed, and a few more toasts were given around the table. It turned out, that Max had come prepared to this specific gathering -- as he announced to their parents that he had been accepted into law school. Witnessing their father beam with pride, and their mother's jaw drop -- had been worth the wait on telling them. It was an astonishment, that their mother didn't scream after he told them. It was a universally known fact, that their parents had been worried about what Max would decide to do with his future. Being bestowed with the knowledge that he had an overall direction now, had possibly put them at ease. It was a moment, that had made her immensely proud of her younger brother.

Once everyone had settled back down, however, the moment she had been waiting and psyching herself up for -- had arrived. Natalia cautiously looked around, scanning the room and watching everyone sharing their support for Max as they set glasses back on the table. Now, all she needed was to fester up her courage and get this show on the road. It was time to put those acting chops to good use, and appear more confident than she actually felt at the moment. One wrong move, and she was convinced she would lose her nerve. So she reached for her glass, gulped down a rather large swallow of wine, before taking a deep breath and steeling her frayed nerves...

"Well, I hope you all don't mind but I wanted to share some news with everyone -- since we're all together and it feels like we never get together enough these days," Natalia declared shyly, as she pushed back her chair and decided to begin her speech.

It's now or never. May God have mercy on me, if this shit goes sideways...

"I'd like to propose a toast of my own." She spoke more confidently this time, as she pushed her chin forward in a show of conviction. Bill, however, briefly looked confused by this sudden development, as he caught his brother Valter's eyes from across the table. Turning his focus back to Natalia, he noticed that she was looking down at him with her hand held out for his. Graciously, he smiled back at her and laced his larger hand through hers.

"For a while, I often wondered when I would find someone who would be special enough to love me for who I am; at the same time, I also questioned if I would ever be in a place that would allow me to recognize and accept that person for everything that they were -- once they managed to appear in my life. Alla vet redan att jag kan vara ganska jobbig ibland," her confession caused her siblings to chuckle and nod vigorously in a show of silent agreement. "Yet, when that special someone comes into your life, så vet du bara. With Bill," she paused momentarily, as she stared back at him. "I always knew he was special and unique. He's kind, caring, and compassionate; but he's also devoted, hard-working and best of all -- he's incredibly loyal." Bill felt his heart skip a beat, as he gulped. If there was ever a moment in his life, where he felt like the shittiest person on the planet -- this was quite possibly it. He didn't miss it as Gustaf choked on his wine, causing the elder Skarsgard to apologize and make an excuse about it 'going down the wrong pipe,' before Natalia methodically continued.

"I am so proud of each and every one of his new milestones, and while the road may get bumpy sometimes, I know that he will always be there -- no matter how difficult things may get."

Bill could hear her sister and mother, murmuring their agreements with Natalia comments in the background. The battle within him though was only just beginning; he could feel the pressure beginning to rise, whilst his anxiety stirred to life deep in the pit of his gut. Something didn't feel quite right about this, but nevertheless, he felt like shit as he listened to her sing his praises to everyone in the room. She had absolutely no idea what was coming later tonight, and she was inadvertently making him feel even worse without even meaning to.

"Therefore, I would like to privately announce to our families,"

Without warning, a foreboding feeling slammed into him at full force. The wheels in his head worked overtime, as he tried to piece together her end game here, when abruptly -- it all snapped into place.

Oh no...

Time slowed down to snail's pace. Seconds felt like several agonizing minutes, causing him to hear every beat of his own heart pounding away furiously in his ears. He wasn't an idiot, and he figured out exactly what she was about to do. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults in his throat, and before he could think of a way to stop her...

"Bill and I are now engaged!" she gushed excitedly, as she pulled out the Ruby and Diamond engagement ring from her pocket, that he had previously given her -- leaving Bill sitting there in stunned silence. Gasps filled the air, as both families happiness caused them to erupt with celebratory rounds of "congratulations," being showered on the couple. The rest of her family stood up to give them hugs while Bill sat there in barely concealed shock; his composure, sloppily falling away momentarily as he absorbed the reality of what had just happened.

Suddenly, he felt the impact of a stiff kick on his shin from underneath the table, as his older brother Gustaf watched him intently. His lip curled up, signaling to Bill to smile. Once more, his mask of indifference slipped it's way back onto his face, as he stood up and accepted hugs and handshakes from her family members that began to surround them.

It was not as if he had any choice in the matter; what the hell else could he do? Just stand up and say, "I’m sorry everyone, but there seems to be some sort of mistake. I actually planned to break up with Natalia later tonight," and believe that it wouldn't cause a massive scene? Unfortunately, he knew that wouldn't go over well. Moreover, he didn't want to subject his mother to the needless drama either. He had too much respect for her, and even for Natalia's own parents, to legitimately consider doing that to them. Besides, when it boiled down to it -- Natalia didn't deserve to be humiliated like that either. Bill was well and truly stuck, with no other choice but to pretend that he was the happy and doting fiance.

In the end, he gracefully acted the role of dutiful fiance and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. It was a brazen move, Natalia would give him that. Deep in her heart, she knew that the real test would be the one that took place later on tonight -- when they were both away from the prying eyes of their families and finally by themselves. 

Tactically, Bill took a subtle peek around the table and noticed his own siblings watching the interaction intently. Each of them knew that this wasn't what their brother had wanted anymore. It seemed that even his own sister was giving him the side-eye. Her stern look, conveying a simple message: We're going to talk about this later, you fucking idiot.

Briefly, he wondered if his brothers had told her about his time with Y/N because she certainly didn't seem to be too impressed with him at all; and neither were his brothers. Regrettably, while Bill didn't want to make their judgments any worse, he knew it was coming when he felt his mother wrap her arms around him -- telling him just how proud of him she was. His green eyes glazed over and shut, as he hugged her back. Even though his eyes were shut, he could still feel the piercing stares of his siblings; harshly and silently criticizing him for not standing up and putting a stop to this.

His hands were tied, and there was very obviously nothing he could do, presently, to stop or curb the situation. So with that in mind, he sat back down in his seat and waited for the festivities to come to the inevitable end.

Natalia had well and truly fucked him and his plans up tonight, and there was a part of him that was a little bit angry about it; more so with himself for getting himself into this mess. His plan to end their relationship tonight, was effectively shot to hell. He literally could not leave her right now -- not after this grand little display of hers.

Fuck.

Bill shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing that his older brothers Alexander and Gustaf were probably waiting on what their younger brother's next move would be. They were already well aware of what had happened, between Y/N and Bill, since he had already told them about it -- once he made back home.

On his first night back in town, he had gone to meet up with his younger brother Valter at the local pub -- only to realize that his two older brothers, Alexander and Gustaf, were joining him as a surprise. It was a welcomed reprieve to just be able to sit down and catch up with each of them individually. A few hours and several drinks later, he ended up confessing about the affair to his brothers. None of the men were even remotely surprised by the turn of events; even going as far as to tell him as they all had seen it coming. Valter and Gustaf both cherished Y/N already, and while Alex also thought she was perfect for his younger brother -- he also didn't exactly like the situation they had both gotten themselves into. He was leary of the fact that Natalia would just accept Bill breaking up with her. Of course, Alex was simply speaking from personal experience with that particular subject. It was no secret that he wasn't exactly considered any kind of saint in some of his former relationships. But it was those relationships alone, that had taught him how to spot the signs of trouble yet to come. It was because of that, that Bill tried to take Alex's advice to tread carefully, to heart.

Now, Natalia had him by the balls and if Y/N found out -- any potential future they may have together could be ruined. He had to think, and fast. Because if the looks on his siblings' faces were something to go by, they weren’t going to let this go; if anything -- there was going to be severe consequences for this.

------

Headlights flashed ahead, as the dark grey Audi A3 sedan pulled into the small parking spot located just underneath the decently sized and sturdy white apartment building. The silence in the air was thick and palpable, with anticipation and suspense. Natalia was unsure of what to expect next, as Bill hadn't said a word to her since they both left the dinner party.

If she were lucky, Bill would simply go inside and simply feign sleepiness in order to get out of the discussion with her; but somehow -- she highly doubted that was about to happen. She was far from stupid, and she didn't miss the look of complete shock on his face when she told everyone of their engagement tonight. Of course, he straightened up and smiled; even going as far as thanking people for their well-wishes that they showered upon them -- yet his hesitation was certainly not missed by her clever and observant eyes.

Nervousness seemed to be settling deep within her spirit, at an almost rapid pace. In her defense, this felt like a good idea in her head at the time; back when she had gotten Ace's email, and learned about Bill's affair with Y/N. Hindsight was fifty-fifty though, and she was wondering if her impromptu announcement at the dinner party would push him over the edge -- causing him to leave her for good. If it did, she could conclusively kiss her revenge plan goodbye. To be fair, she knew there was a high likelihood of her getting an adverse reaction from him when she went into it; but when you're wrapped so tightly within the welcoming embrace of pure, uninhibited fury -- you tend to lose sight of the things are that should be undeniable. And although she wouldn't admit her fears so openly, due to her own anger and pride, she was particularly petrified of the possibility of him leaving her for doing this. Of course, when she sat back and thought about it, in the middle of those lonely nights recently, it was definitely considered downright pathetic to be worried about something like that. After all, without a shadow of a doubt, she should be the one leaving him. Yet, when it came down to it, she couldn't seem to pull the proverbial trigger. The love she felt for him, while wounded in the worst possible way -- was still there for him. How it was surviving, was beyond her own comprehension.

It was too late now though. Once her decision was acted upon, she knew she needed to see it all the way through; regardless of the repercussions. Ironically, it was the image of Bill kissing Y/N, which felt permanently seared into her mind -- that propelled her forward with her plan. 

Neither of them said a word after she killed the engine to the car. She sat back in her leather seat, anxiously fiddling with her keys as she trained her eyes down towards her lap. A feeling of restlessness surged through her veins and Natalia had no idea why she was so nervous. In her opinion, it should be Bill who should be over there sweating bullets. There was no way he could get out of this, without having to come clean. Yet, even knowing that, didn't calm her down at all. If anything, it just put her on edge even more.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

The longer he sat there quietly, the more jittery she became. Realizing that she didn't plan to spend all night simply sitting in the car waiting for him to finally address her -- she lifted her hand to the silver door handle and propped open the driver's side door. They had some leftovers, in a couple of wrapped up dishes which sitting on the back floorboards, so she went ahead and opened the back door to grab them and bring them inside.

Bill exhaled deeply, as he too, finally opened his door and decided to help her get the food inside.

His mind was in a much different place than Natalia's, and it was consistently swimming between anger and fear. Luckily for Natalia, it was predominately aimed at himself at the moment; well, with the notable exception of his anger at her for once again -- going off and doing something, without consulting with him beforehand. This seemed to be an ever-repeating pattern among them, and quite frankly, it felt as if they could never find themselves sitting on the same page. It was annoying, and bothersome, to say the least.

Upon opening the front door to her apartment, Natalia quietly thanked him for his help as she pushed her way inside and Bill flipped the kitchen light switch on for them. He never said a word, as he took off his jacket, brushed a hand through his thick brown hair, and watched her put the leftover food on the stove in order to pull out her Tupperware dishes. He simply watched her work her way around the kitchen, just as he had always seen her do over the past year and a half -- and thought about how to approach the rather big elephant in the room. As he stood on the other side of the counter, he pulled out a stool and continued to watch her work.

"Nat, can you stop doing that and come here, please? We need to talk."

He noticed the way her back froze, the moment he uttered those words. Setting aside the aluminum foil package, she turned around and took off her own jacket; hanging it on the coat hanger she had next to the door. For the first time, since they left her parents house, he observed that her engagement ring was still sitting on her ring finger. She hadn't taken it off, since leaving the dinner party. The way the bright light in the kitchen hit the diamonds, causing them to sparkle and shine -- had caught his eye.

Instantly, he lost focus and remembered back to the night when he had asked her to marry him. Oddly enough, he proposed to her right here, in this very room of her apartment -- right after they had made dinner together. At the time, he was focused on doing anything that made her feel happy. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt from their numerous pillow talks, that an engagement was something she certainly looked forward to having in their future. Natalia didn't know it, but he had purchased the ring a few weeks prior. Bill knew she adored rubies and thought they were stunning. It had taken him a little bit of time, but he was able to track down the ring that appeared to be perfect for her. A single teardrop-shaped, two and a half-carat Ruby, surrounded by a halo of diamonds -- with a plentiful amount of diamonds adorning the white gold, crisscrossed double band.

In retrospect, even he had to admit that was quite foolish of him to do that simply to keep her happy. It was dawning on him now, that it was a mistake because he wasn't actually ready to commit himself to a marriage; yet -- that didn't stop the fact that he still felt bad about causing this dysfunction in the first place.

"You're upset."

It wasn't a question, it was merely an observation and it hung in the air like a knife, causing him to momentarily flinch at her accusation. Was she wrong? No. He just didn't want this to turn into another row between them either. Enough damage had already been accomplished for one night.

Carefully selecting his next words would be imperative, and he knew it.

"I'm simply wondering why you chose to tell our families about the engagement; jag trodde att vi hade en överenskommelse."

Natalia slid into the barstool, just on the other side of Bill and folded her hands neatly in front of her. Her quiet demeanor only enhanced his sense of dismay, even further. And strangely, the sigh that exited her chest, sounded like one of defeat; leaving him wondering about what was to come next.

It wasn't that long ago, when she used to bring him happiness and a ray of hope to his future. When he thought about it, it was just after he had agreed to start seeing Natalia exclusively, that he began to start seeing a chance of happiness outside of Y/N and Natalia had a lot do with that. She made him feel comfortable, at least during that brief period in time; yet he couldn't lie to himself -- because the idea of fully giving up on his feelings for Y/N never fully resonated in his heart either. Those feelings only sat idly by, like the embers of once raging fire, threatening to reignite once again at the sign of any change in the environment. 

And that was exactly what they did; those emotions reignited in a big, fiery and all-consuming way. It was something, he wouldn't let go off.

This was his fault, and he knew it.

"Since you're asking for my honesty, here it is; I'm tired of hiding something like this from our families. I agreed to be your wife the moment you asked me. I'm in this for the long haul. But asking me to keep it quiet, hasn't really settled well with me either. I want to be able to share this with our mothers, my mother -- even my own sister." She exclaimed wistfully; her ice-blue eyes bore into his, imploring him to see reason and understand her valid emotions.

"I have been so incredibly excited just to tell my own mother about this. And you..." She paused briefly, before looking down at the bar; unable to maintain eye contact any longer. "You asked me not to tell anybody about it. Do you realize how hard that is? Or even how unfair it is? To make me keep this news all to myself, that I just truly want to be happy about? And recently, I've been thinking about that; you do know that it feels a little silly to be hiding something this major from our own friends and family -- right? I'm not asking to announce it to the whole world yet Bill, I just wanted to privately tell our families."

Bill exhaled calmly, trying not to let his grip on his patience slip from him. Of course, he understood why she wanted to tell them all; he certainly wasn't impractical or uncaring in that sense. However, there were other underlying issues at the center of why they had both agreed to keep it quiet.

"I get that, I truly do. But Nat, we talked about this and you even agreed to it. You said that you understood the reasons we needed to keep it quiet. I told you, that with IT coming out -- things are going to change. If everything goes the way I hope they do, my career could be taking off. That means more offers, more auditions, more projects, more locations and with that comes more attention. Not all of that attention is going to be good either. If news about the engagement gets out, even through an accidental post on social media from one of our friends or family members, you could be dealing with a hoard of female fans talking massive shit about you, stalking you online, or following you around in real life -- and making your life absolutely miserable. And all of it, would be because you're with me! That's not even including the fact that we've been fighting more over the past almost several months. If I'm being perfectly honest here," he sighed, before turning back to her and grabbing her left hand in his right one. "I'm not sure if that would be something we would survive, because we have more than enough issues without that being added on top of our plates."

Natalia sat back in stunned silence, unable to fathom that he genuinely said that out loud to her. Her act of telling their families, couldn't have happened at a better time, as it became increasingly more evident that he really was planning on ending things with her. All she knew in that instant, was that she had to turn the tide of this conversation, back in her favor and quickly -- or entire plan would only dissolve from here.

"Are you --" her eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over and down her lightly blushed cheeks, while she sniffled. "Are you ashamed of me?"  Quickly, she pulled her hand back from his and stood up from her seat. Anger surged throughout her body, causing her cheeks to heat up in embarrassment and tears began to shine through her eyes, as Bill was left with emotional whiplash at what was happening.

"What? Natalia, no! That's not what I'm saying," he swiftly attempted to explain, but he knew it would be no use.

"That's what it feels like you're saying! It feels like you're saying that you don't think I know what lies ahead, or that I'm even strong enough to handle it! Do you really think so little of me?" Turning on her heel, she briskly walked back into the kitchen area and picked up the aluminum foil again -- trying her hardest to hold it together and finish her task of re-wrapping their leftovers.

"Where the hell did you even get the idea that I was ashamed of you? I never said that at all," Bill's frustrations were growing by the millisecond, as he stood up from his own spot at the bar. "I explain to you that I'm afraid of something, and suddenly that somehow means I'm ashamed of you? You always manage to do this! Every single fucking time, Natalia! You run off and do something on your own, never ask me how I may feel about it before you do it -- and then you get pissed off when I don't react the way you think I should. You did it right before I came back home too!" He finished accusingly, as he pointed a finger at her.

Just like that, the fuse was ignited and neither of them was prepared to back down from this long-overdue fight.

Propriety could be damned, he didn't care if his voice was starting to elevate anymore, because this thing right here -- was exactly what the main problem was between them. And honestly, Bill was at his wit's end with the drama she brought to the table in this relationship.

"So that's what this is about! You're still mad at the fact that I tried to book a private getaway for us, for when you got back home from Toronto? Jesus Christ, Bill!" She slammed the plastic see-through dish on the stove, as she shook her head and began to laugh sarcastically. "Excuse the fuck out of me, for trying to spend time with my fiance after not being able to see him for three fucking months!"

"Actually, I wasn't upset about that incident anymore and was more or less using that as an example; but yes -- you go off and do things, all the while, you don't even bother to include me in the equation at all! It's like I've become an afterthought to you! Did it ever occur to you, that I wanted to come home, see my family and actually spend some time with my mother? She's getting older, Natalia! I won't have her around forever!" He leaned across the bar carefully, both arms stretched out with his palms braced across the surface; narrowing his eyes at her.

Natalia pressed her lips together, as she pulled out a sheet of aluminum foil from the pack and set it off to the side.

"You’ve been acting like a jackass, since you've been away." The moment that allegation left her lips, Bill scoffed.

"Me being gone for work has nothing to do with this. We’ve been at each other’s throats even before I left. Have you ever tried considering the fact, that I may be annoyed by the continuous fighting we do all of the time? We fight over the most ridiculous bullshit! And if we’re not fighting, we’re fucking. I told you over the phone a few weeks ago, this shit needed to stop and here we are -- right back at it again!”

The sound of a wooden spoon scraping against the ceramic plate filled the room, as she finally set it down and wiped her hands on the hand towel that was hanging off the oven door.

"Let me ask you a question, do you even love me anymore? Because I love you, Bill! But Jesus fucking Christ, I really feel like you don't love me at all."

That one question managed to hit him dead center in his chest, almost knocking the wind right out of him. Just then, it was as if he were transported back to that nightmare with Natalia and Y/N both hanging in the tree, with their chests cut open and their hearts were laid out his hands. He was fearful of answering that question, because he didn't want to essentially rip the proverbial heart out of her chest and destroy her like this.

Now, it was Bill's turn to sound defeated. Without another word, he didn't wait for her reaction as he turned around and began walking down the hallway. Taking a couple of minutes to clear her own head, she finished wrapping the plastic bowl and stuck it on the bottom shelf in the refrigerator; wondering if she finally pushed everything too far.

Finally, she pushed herself away from the large appliance and decided to follow him down the hallway. If she were expecting to see him feeling defeated, she was in for a rude awakening; instead -- she found him packing his bags again.

"Bill, what are you doing?" The hesitation caused her voice to slightly crack, as she watched him continue to put more clothes into his suitcase.

He never spoke a word, as he ignored and pushed past her. Instead, he moved into their shared bathroom. Once he collected what he needed, he snapped the light back off and made his way back to the bedroom -- packing his toiletries away. After he was finished a few moments later, he belatedly glanced over at her. For the first time since this argument began, he noticed her silently crying as she watched him.

"I fell for you before I ever put that ring on your finger," he stated carefully. "I didn't think I could ever find someone who could potentially make me happy, and for a while -- you did. But we're changing Natalia, and I don't like the people we're changing into."

"So you want to run away, instead of facing our problems? Vad är det som du inte berättar för mig?" Her lips trembled, as she stood there -- waiting for an answer.

"Natalia," there was a delay, as he tried to take a step towards her. Natalia, on the other hand, took a quick step back. Her eyeliner and mascara were running carelessly down her cheeks, creating dark streaks which made him feel even worse.

"I'm saying we should use the time while I'm away in California working, to think about what we both want. Because we cannot keep going like this. It’s not fair to either of us. I’m not saying it’s over right now, I’m saying let’s take this time apart while I’m gone, to think and once I come back -- we can sit down and decide once and for all where we go from here.” 

With that, he grabbed the handle of his large rolling suitcase and walked out of their shared apartment. Leaving a shocked and struggling Natalia behind. 

He hadn’t ended it with her, but he did let her know that they needed time apart. And that was the opening a reeling and emotional Natalia needed, to enact the next step in her plan. 

____

[Extended Author's Notes: Trust me, I'm shaking my head at Bill too! Bonehead! You should have just ended it with her while you had the chance!

I get why he didn't, because that's got to be a mind fuck where you're feeling your back against the wall, flashing back to a nightmare where you think you've ripped out her heart already and you don't want to hurt someone...

But man, I have to hand it to Natalia, the girl knows how to manipulate a situation when things are going off the rails. She saw what was coming, and threw a massive roadblock in Bill's path. She is not the one to play with, and Bill may have bitten off more than he can chew with her. He's obviously figured out, that he's backed into a wall; so it'll be interesting to see how if he's able to keep up the facade and find a way out of the mess he created -- or if things are going to blow up in his face.

One small part of me, feels a tiny bit bad that Bill is in this conundrum. After all, he started dating Natalia, because he was attempting to get over his feelings for Y/N in the first place; which he felt were always going to remain unrequited on the readers end. He and Natalia have had a bumpy road, but overall he did care about her and even asked her to marry him -- only for everything to finally come together with Y/N (who doesn't know about his engagement)... And now, it's all a big mess.

Now, our boy finally has the woman he's wanted all along and had finally mustered up the courage to tell Natalia it was over -- and she blew his plans all to hell!

Speaking of Bill though, I wonder where he's running off to after failing to completely break it off with Nattie... Guess you'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out lol.

____

And finally: If you've enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to (kindly) leave a vote and/or comment! Each vote and comment helps more people see this story; so please be kind and submit a vote/comment before you leave.

And if you don't want to leave a vote on this particular chapter, just go back and leave on the chapters you liked the most.

I hope you're having a wonderful day/evening/night.

Take care lovelies, see you in two weeks (or less) with the next chapter! --ImaginationLane xoxo]

Tag list:  @kikilikes, @readsalot73, @diianawonka, @goswedish, @rougxlips @ffixation, @shadowpriestess6, @vladsgirl, @mrsbillskarsgard, @billgardskars, @adoresfandoms, @mightbelindsey, @we-are-like-a-timebomb, @fandomimcurrentlyobsessedabout, @negan5589, @decayingdeathh, @unicorn-glitter-princess, @voidpaintings, @the-fandom-phantom-fanfics, @mishdennise, @thatonepuremoment, @voidpaintings, @peardream72, @nyleveeee, @rutuliukasg , @daddyssweetpeaches, @ambeazyyy, @billiemalamas, @frappylou, @jinnfruit , @isaxhorror , @totally-magneato, @wayward-dragon, @stanseba, @tonystar3k , @a-lethal-dose , @rachlou , @anastasiaskarsgard , @skarsgarddreams , @greenofallshades , @fichoe21 , @bohemianfortunes ,

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fan fiction #The Assistant Series