#there were so many sad sentences in that chapter

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 35

Eminem x Female Reader Fanfiction

Synopsis : Reader is mad at Em after their heated argument and he does everything he can not to lose her.

Y/N’s POV 

You had decided to sleep in one of the guest rooms after your argument with Marshall. He had tried to reason with you, apologize for the millionth time and tell you he loved you but you just needed to be in a different room and not see or hear him. With him begging and pleading, it was impossible to process your feelings. After you locked yourself in the guest room, you heard him knock and apologize for a while but he eventually went away when he understood that you would not open the door, let alone talk to him. To say you were hurt would be the understatement of the year. How did he dare accuse you of lying ? How did he dare imply that you would not deserve to raise children when he knew full well that it was all that you wanted for yourself ? You understood that he might have said that out of anger, fear or whatever extreme emotion he might have felt in the moment but that was no excuse. And it did prove one thing : after knowing you for nearly two years, having witnessed you work towards recovery, he still saw you as an addict. This made you feel worthless, like everything you had done, all the meetings, the therapy sessions had done no good and that you would always be seen as the stupid girl who made a couple of bad decisions because she had a hard time handling trauma. Before messing with your anxiety prescription and eventually overdosing, you had never done a lot of drugs. You had never been the party type, drinking too much and experimenting with substances. The heaviest thing you had ever tried was smoking weed during trips to Amsterdam with your friends from college. You were not a crackhead, for crying out loud ! Looking at the bigger picture, your experience with drugs was limited and represented a few months. It could have been worse. You did not want to minimize your mistakes, but you also did not want them to be held against you for the rest of your life. You were twenty-eight, you still had a lifetime ahead of you. Three months messing with Xanax should not earn you a life sentence. And if Marshall thought different, to hell with him. 

Having him throw all these things in your face hurt on so many different levels and you cried yourself to sleep. Out of anger, sadness and frustration. And on top of that, you had to deal with the guilt of feeling unable to truly rejoice for Talia. You were feeling more lonely than ever. The last time you had felt this lonely was after you lost your baby. Simon was there physically but nowhere to be found on an emotional level and your friends, despite trying their best, did not really understand what you were going through. Now, things were different but also similar in a way : you couldn’t really talk to your friends and it was painfully obvious that your partner would not be of any support. All you had wanted for the night was to have some peace, some alone time and, eventually, Marshall’s arms to fall asleep in. Instead, you had an argument that led you to sleep in a guest room and a possible breakup on your mind. 

You didn’t want to break up with Marshall. Even after the awful things he threw in your face, you were still in love with him. It didn’t make sense. If anything, you should hate him. And in a way, you did. But you still loved him. The perspective of breaking up was making you sick to your stomach but what choice did you have, when the person you loved the most, the one who was supposed to protect you, be there for you and have your back did not respect you and thought of you as a failure ? Yes, he had apologized countless times and professed his love for you, but what good did it do if he saw you as an addict and a charity case ? 

The only reason you managed to sleep at all was from the exhaustion from crying. You had sobbed so much that your head was hurting when you woke up, your vision still blurry. That’s when you felt a presence in bed, next to you. You rubbed your eyes and saw Marshall laying there, staring at you intently with bloodshot eyes. You had locked the door behind you. What the hell was he doing here ? How long had he been staring at you for ? 

What are you doing here ? You asked in a raspy voice. How did you even get here ? 

Masterkey. Baby… I can’t sleep without you, he said. I don’t want to sleep without you. Not tonight. Not ever. 

So you thought you’d stare at me in my sleep like some sicko ? 

Y/N, I… Please don’t do this, he sighed. Don’t leave me. 

He was staring into your eyes, as if he were trying to read into your soul. He was wearing a white tank top and gray sweatpants. He knew full well that was the clothes you liked the most on him. You had told him countless times how sexy he was in them. And you had to admit that, laying on top of the covers, icy blue eyes and muscles on full display, he was a vision. Even when you were mad at him, he had you drooling and it was painfully unfair. 

Marshall…, you began. 

I can’t lose you, he pleaded. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t live without you. 

You hurt me, you said as you swallowed dryly. You really hurt me. 

I know, baby, I-

No you don’t ! You interjected. You have absolutely no idea how bad it hurts. This is worse than the time you told me I should have overdosed before we met. Losing this baby, it’s the worse thing that ever happened to me. How dare you tell me I shouldn’t get to be a mother ?! How dare you tell me that when it was my biggest dream and the reason for our breakup ? How dare the man I told everything about my miscarriage to, the one who consoled me when I was hurting, say something so mean when I gave up on this dream in order to be with him ?! 

I’m so sorry, he sobbed. I don’t deserve you. I know it. I fucked up. 

And I don’t deserve you either ! You spat.  I deserve better. You said you had my back. You said you were here for me. You were supposed to be my best friend in the world. You were supposed to protect me. You had me believing that I could recover. The man who gave me this fucking sobriety pendant and told me I wasn’t alone doesn’t believe in me and thinks I’m basically a crackhead ! 

No, Y/N, it’s not true, he said. I don’t think that at all. You’re so strong. I know it. I see it. 

Then why would you say what you said ? You cried. What good reason can you possibly have for hurting me this bad ? 

I… It’s hard to explain. 

The both of you were crying, laying in bed, staring at each other. Seeing Marshall in tears broke your heart but, hell, he had broken yours. You were mad at yourself for having so much empathy for him. He reached for your hand and, with the other, wiped his tears. 

Look, I know it’s no excuse, but… When I saw the tests, I freaked out, he said. Because it’s not even that I don’t want kids. I mean, I don’t, because I’ve had three beautiful daughters, I feel like my family is complete and, who wants to change diapers in their fifties anyway ? Or be mistaken for their child’s grandpa ? But really… When I thought you were pregnant, I was terrified. Because there is no fucking way I can be chill with the idea of having another baby when I put mine through so much. I traumatized my daughters. Their mom traumatized them too. Their parents were fucking zombies. They saw us struggle. No child should ever, ever see that. No kid should have to call 911 because their dad is dying on the bathroom floor, or have to wait for their mom to call them from jail. They should not have to say “Mom is in rehab. Again. She was sober for years but she relapsed and now she’s a mess”. I can’t even begin to tell you all about the times my kids didn’t have their parents with them for important events. Or the times when we were there but not mentally present. 

You stared at him in silence as he spoke. He had already told you about his addiction, how he had struggled, but he had never really spoken about the impact it had on his daughters, on his family. Tears were falling down his cheeks as he spoke and you could tell the memories were still vivid. 

And when I say that addicts are shitty parents, I’m just talking from my experience, he continued. No matter how much I’m trying now, no matter how long I’ve been sober, it doesn’t erase everything the girls have been through. And I can’t, in good conscience, have another child. Being an addict doesn’t mean you don’t love your kids to death. But it means that they have to put up with a lot and might end up having to care for you when, really, you’re the one who should take care of them. And I won’t even get into the bad genetics they might inherit. When I got back from the hospital, the girls had to take care of me. And throughout the years, they’ve had to take care of Kim, too. 

I know, you said. And I’m so sorry you had to go through this but… You were mean to me. You were cruel. 

I never meant to say you wouldn’t be a loving mother, he explained. Because there is absolutely no doubt in my mind about this. And I know it’s a sensitive subject for you. What I really meant to say is that, even though you’ve worked so hard, even though you’re doing so good, there is no certainty you won’t relapse at one point or another. It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t be there for you if something happened. It means that it’s scaring the living shit out of me. I wouldn’t be able to handle having a kid with anyone, but if I’m being honest, I couldn’t handle the pressure of having one with you especially, because I’d be even more scared. 

You nodded sheepishly. When he put it in these words, it made more sense. You were still hurt but, in a way, you would see where he was coming from. 

But I realize that… It’s a me issue, for the most part, you know ? He finally said. And I guess that, just because it’s the way I see things doesn’t mean it has to be true for you. I know we’re in different situations. 

Yes, you said with tears in your eyes. Because for me… It was three months, Marshall. I only used for three months. And it doesn’t change the fact that I made mistakes. But I don’t want to be thought of as an addict for the rest of my life. Because that’s not who I am. It shouldn’t have to define who I am. And I will not have you think of me as a charity case.

I know, he agreed. I fucked up. I’m sorry. But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. For the record, I don’t think of you as an addict. And you are not a charity case. You have never been. Even at the beginning, we bonded over the topic of addiction and I wanted to be there for you, but it was never about charity or whatever. Or maybe it was, but with me being the damn charity case. 

I never saw you like that, you said. 

Before I met you, I was a fucking mess, you know ? He said. I was sober for fifteen years, I was doing good on paper, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t happy. I never really thought I could be. Content, maybe. But happy ? No. You’re the one who showed me what true happiness looks like. You were never a fucking charity case, Y/N. You’re the air I breathe. 

You could see the sincerity in his eyes. He was holding your hand in his and staring at you. Things seemed a bit clearer now but you weren’t ok. Maybe he didn’t actually mean all the things he’d said, but you still took them to heart. You stared back at him, not saying much. And if you weren’t pushing him away, you weren’t exactly making a move in his direction either. You were just sitting in bed, feeling emotionally drained. 

I’m really sorry, you know, he reiterated. I know I’ve said that a hundred million times tonight, but I mean it. Can you forgive me ? 

I… I don’t know, you said blandly. 

I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/N, he said. I swear to God, all you have to do is tell me what to do and I’ll fucking do it. I’ll jump in front of a train, I’ll sell a kidney, I’ll take my heart out of my chest and offer it to you. Anything. 

Can you… Leave me alone ? You asked. 

He looked absolutely heartbroken and you didn’t want to hurt him but, at the same time, you didn’t want a sacrifice. What you wanted, what you really needed was time and space. You looked at him as he swallowed dryly. There was a hint of panic in his eyes. 

Please don’t leave, he pleaded. 

I need time, Marshall, you explained. I need space. 

Please, he begged. 

He cupped your face and whispered to you how much he loved you, how much he needed you. “I can’t lose you”, he kept on saying. He then proceeded to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips… He seemed virtually unable to let go of you. You burst into tears as soon as his lips touched yours and he held you as you sobbed in his arms, repeating how sorry he was. Your tears were getting his tank top wet but he didn’t seem to care. He kept on spilling soft kisses on your face, holding you close. You let him kiss you as you clutched his top. His hands slowly started to wander, gently stroking your thighs. “Let me show you how much I love you”, he whispered before kissing you. You enjoyed his touch, the warmth of his embrace… But something was still off. You didn’t feel in the right headspace. You knew he loved you, but you didn’t feel safe on an emotional level. 

Marshall… No, you simply whispered. 

Are you alright ? He asked. What can I do ? 

Please, just leave, you asked with tears in your eyes. 

He bit his lower lip but eventually nodded. He stroked your cheek with a worried look before getting up and walking towards the door. He took one last look at you as you muttered an apology. After he closed the door, you let your head fall onto the pillow. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

After leaving Y/N alone in the guest bedroom, Marshall was unable to sleep. He had fucked up big time, he knew it. And now, she might leave his sorry ass. For good, this time. The perspective of her walking away from him again was making him sick to his stomach. He kept on thinking he’d done everything wrong in their relationship, perhaps from the start. All he wanted was to give her the very best in life but he kept on fucking up, on saying the wrong things, on letting his anger and past trauma take over. Perhaps he was right when he said he’d end up alone. He was consumed by self-loathing and self-hatred, with absolutely no clue as to how he could possibly make things right (assuming it was even possible). His mind kept on going to the darkest places. He’d always been prone to weird, dark and intrusive thoughts but it’d been a long time since he had felt this way. Ever since they had gotten back together, life had been sunshine and candy. Now, it was the contrary. He kept on filling pages upon pages in his notebook with words, rhymes, schemes, phrases… If anyone ever found this, they would probably call a psych ward to have him committed. His lyric sheets had always resembled the scribblings of a mad man - something a lot of people made fun of him for - but these pages were something else. They were deeply disturbing. Probably because that’s exactly what his thoughts were. Disturbing. After a night alone in the living room, staring at the ceiling and writing, he decided not to go to the studio. Whenever he was having a bad day, going to work and keeping up with his rigorous 9 to 5 schedule usually helped but, this time, he didn’t have it in him to get ready, get in his car and go to work like nothing happened. Not when Y/N might be gone by the time he would come back. So much for their first holiday as a family. For the perfect future he had planned for them. For all the places he wanted to take her. All the plans he wanted to make. He couldn’t imagine facing his family and telling them that he had fucked up. He could already see the look of disappointment on his daughters’ faces. They had managed for Y/N to get back to him only for him to ruin everything. 

He was laying on the couch when he heard her come down. He immediately went to see her. 

Hey, he said. 

Good morning, she replied. 

Did you sleep well ? He asked in a sad attempt to make small talk and connect with her. 

Not really, she admitted. Aren’t you late for work ? 

I’m not going, he said. Not today. Look… Can we talk ? 

I came to talk to you, actually, she said. I have made up my mind. About leaving. 

For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything and time seemed frozen. He found himself unable to breathe as he stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate and put him out of his misery. He needed to know. These few seconds were absolute torture. The nine circles of hell. 

So ? He asked nervously. 

I don’t want to leave, Marshall, she said. I want to give us a chance. 

Thank God, he sighed as he went for an embrace. 

But, she said intently as she put distance between the two of them, I need time. 

O-ok, he said. Sure. Whatever you need, baby. Whatever you want. I told you, I’ll do anything, I’ll give you whatever you ask for. 

Would you consider therapy ? She asked carefully. 

I already do therapy, he replied with a puzzled look on his face.

You haven’t been to therapy since we came back from Europe, she pointed out. And I know that it’s mostly addiction counseling. With everything you told me yesterday, it’s clear that you have unresolved trauma that you should work on. So that you don’t take it out on me. And so that you can move on. 

I-I don’t think it’s something you can move from, he said honestly. But yeah, sure. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. 

Ok, she said. Thank you. 

Is that all ? He asked nervously. 

And I’m taking over the guest bedroom, she added. 

You want to sleep apart ?! He blurted out. 

I told you I need time, she said. Marsh, I… I love you. With all my heart. And I know you’re sorry. But I’m still hurt. And I have a lot to process. I’ll still be in the house, I’m not moving out. 

Ok, he sighed. 

He wasn’t happy about the prospect of spending more nights away from her, but at least she wasn’t moving out and that was enough for him to be able to breathe properly again. He would just have to suffer through it and do his best not to fuck things up. Y/N went to her appointment and he waited patiently, not too sure what to do. When she came back, she informed him that Talia would be coming over. No offense to Y/N’s best friend, but he had absolutely no wish to see anyone, so he simply decided to retreat in his home studio, trying to at least do something with all the lyrics he had written. Putting together tracks and getting the words out of his head was therapeutic, more so than any amount of time he would spend in a shrink’s office. He’d seen therapists before. When he started addiction counseling, he’d been advised to seek help regarding his childhood trauma, but he wasn’t too keen. So therapy had mainly been focused on his anger issues, his anxiety regarding work and addiction. He wasn’t a big fan of therapy, but if that’s what it took for Y/N to forgive him, he would bite the bullet. When he went back to the living room, at the end of the day, he was spent and his voice was raspy. He had been yelling in the mic a bit more than he usually did but, at least, his mind was a bit clearer. He found Y/N and Talia on the couch, drinking tea and looking at bridal magazines. 

Hi Em, Talia said with a huge smile before hugging him. 

Hey, he said. How’s wedding planning going ? 

Lots to do, she said as she gestured to the pile of notebooks and magazines on their coffee table. By the way… Are you free two months from today ? 

I’d have to check with Tracy about my schedule, he shrugged. Why ? 

Because I’m getting married, she shrieked ! We have a date ! 

That’s… soon, he pointed out. 

Well, I told Y/N not to tell you, and we’re not telling people yet, but you’re Jamal’s best man so you might as well know… We’re having a baby ! 

He looked at Y/N who was standing behind Talia, gesturing to him not to say anything. Obviously he wasn’t supposed to know. He smiled and congratulated her. He could see a sullen expression on his girlfriend’s face while Talia was talking about how Jamal took the news. Apparently, he was surprised but overjoyed and they decided to get married before she started showing. Y/N was smiling but he could see that she was not doing too well. Given everything he knew about how hard losing her own baby had been for her, it wasn’t too surprising. 

So, anyway, we’re going to need all the help we can get, Talia said. Can we count on you, Em ? 

Sure, he sighed. But don’t count on me to help pick flowers or stuff like that… 

Can you at least hook Jamal with one of your stylists so that he has a decent tux ? Oh, and if you know a venue we can use, too… I mean, I bet you’ve visited a few between Hailie’s engagement and Alaina’s wedding. 

None that can fit your guest list, he chuckled. Jamal has told me about it. Nothing that’s available two months from now can accommodate 350 guests ! 

Believe it or not, they have actually agreed to shrink it down, Y/N said with a slight grin. We’re down to 50 guests. 

Only because we’re having a second wedding after the baby is born, Talia warned. This is basically eloping. With a few guests, a party and an actual ceremony. 

So it’s an actual wedding, he said. 

Y/N and Talia went back to their wedding planning. From what he gathered, his girlfriend would have her hands full for the next two months. He went to chill in his office for a bit, listening to some music. When it was dinner time, he went to see Y/N and ask if she wanted to have dinner but found her on the couch, curled into a ball. She was crying and seemed in pain. Talia was gone. 

Baby, what’s wrong ?! He asked as he checked on her. 

Nothing, she mumbled. I got an IUD inserted this morning and I’m having contractions and cramps. They said it’s normal, though. 

I’m sorry, he said. Is there anything I can do ? 

Don’t worry about it, she said. 

She tried to move and pick her phone from the table but even that seemed too hard to do for her. 

You seemed fine, earlier, he commented. 

They gave me pain medication immediately after but it’s starting to wear off, she explained. Plus, I didn’t want to worry Talia, you know ? 

Right, he said. Don’t you have any pain meds you can take ? 

They prescribed some for me but they warned me it was pretty strong so I didn’t pick up the prescription. 

Oh, he said. Do you want me to take you to the doctor ? ER ? 

It’s fine, she said. Don’t worry about it. 

Maybe you should have taken the prescription, he commented. I don’t like seeing you in pain. 

I still don’t fully trust myself, you know ? She said as she nervously played with her sobriety pendant.

You’re stronger than you think, Y/N, he replied. I mean it. 

No you don’t, she huffed. 

Yeah I do, he insisted. Remember, when we started hanging out, when I told you nothing would happen between us ? I thought your sobriety was too new and I was scared But you proved me wrong. You’re doing so good. It’s impressive. 

Thanks, she said sheepishly. 

You never cease to amaze me, you know ? 

She blushed and smiled a little. Watching her act so shy made him realize what an asshole he’d been for failing to protect that smile. She was too precious and she had absolutely no idea about it. All he wanted to do was to take care of her. And that was exactly his plan. 

I wanted to know if you were hungry. Do you want to eat dinner ? He asked. 

Sure, why not, she said as she started to get up. 

Stay here, he said. I’ll cook. 

I can do it, she assured him. 

You’re not in the state to cook, he pointed out. Let me take care of you, ok ? 

Before she got a chance to protest, he went to get her hot water bottle, her favorite blanket, a hoodie and the book on her bedside table and brought them to her before heading to the kitchen and preparing something to eat. They ate in relative silence. He couldn’t speak for her but he wasn’t too sure what to say. At that point, he’d apologized enough times that she knew for a fact how sorry he was. She was a bit distant but, at this point, she didn’t seem too mad either. Ever since they started dating, it was the first time they had an argument that wasn’t solved in the next hour. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared too much but with Y/N, he hated it, probably because he realized it was his first serious, loving relationship with someone who had a rather healthy outlook on relationships. No shade to Kim, he had truly loved her but, looking back, he knew they’d been doomed from the beginning, always scheming and playing games. Y/N, on the other hand, had always been brutally honest, when she made it clear that she was attracted to him, or when she broke up with him to stay true to her dreams. He’d always been used to his partners bending their own rules in order to be with him, wanting to be with him at all costs even if it meant that the whole thing would be unhealthy and disingenuous, but Y/N was not like that. She was honest and true. She would rather leave than take bullshit and, even for his fifty-two year-old self, it was intimidating. 

Thank you for taking care of me, she said softly. 

I take my job seriously, he said with a slight smile. I promised to care for you and I fully intend to stick to the plan. 

You don’t have to, you know ? 

I want to, he replied. How’s the pain ? 

The water bottle helps, she shrugged. I think I’ll go to bed, though. I’m tired. 

Before she could get up, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up before carrying her up the stairs. She gasped in surprise but let him. She was securing herself with her arms around his neck. 

You know… I could have walked, she pointed out. 

Oh. Too late, he said innocently - enjoying the contact with her far too much. 

He let her down on the bed in the guest bedroom. For a split second, he considered bringing her to their bedroom but he wanted her to see he respected her decision, however strongly he might disagree with it. He wasn’t sure how he could be expected to sleep well without her. Last night had been a nightmare, just like any night without her. In retrospect, it was a miracle he hadn’t ended up in the hospital in the six months they’d been apart. He had gotten so little rest. To be fair, he had Talia and Jamal to thank for keeping him somewhat sane and healthy. He wouldn’t have been able to release the album and tour otherwise. Hopefully, this time, he wouldn’t have to sleep without her for the next six months. 

So, do you need anything ? He asked as he tried to hide his nervosity. 

I think I’ll be fine, she replied with a soft smile. 

Look, I saw the look on your face, earlier, when Talia was here, he said. Are you sure you’re alright ? 

I’m triggered, that’s all, she said as she looked down. These contractions are bringing memories. So does Talia’s pregnancy. If I’m being honest, I’m having a bit of a… hard time rejoicing for her. 

Tears were welling in her eyes and he could not resist the urge to hold her. He sat on the bed and pulled her in his arms. She looked at him with a sad look on her face. 

I’m a terrible person, she muttered under her breath. My best friends are having a baby and I’m thinking about myself. 

You’re not, he assured her. Considering what you’ve been through, it’s absolutely understandable. And I guess I didn’t really help last night, with my shitty remarks…

Not really, she admitted.

You’re a great friend, Y/N, he said reassuringly. You just need a little time. 

I guess, she shrugged. Plus, they deserve to have a happy family life, you know ? That’s everything Talia’s ever wanted. They’re going to be amazing parents. 

They are, he nodded. And they’re pretty lucky to have you, too. 

You think ? She sighed. 

Of course, he said. You’re always there for people. Look, you’re even putting together their wedding at the last minute. 

That’s the least I can do, you know ? They’ve always been so good to me. I just want to make them happy. 

He pressed a kiss to her temple and she gave him a weak smile. 

I think I should sleep, she said softly. 

Ok, he replied. Call me if you need anything ? 

Sure. Thanks, Marshall. 

They stared at each other in silence. Sleeping in separate rooms felt unnatural and he could tell she felt it too. He reluctantly left her and went to their room, though he knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

In the following days, things seemed to ease up a little. Y/N was still a little distant and keeping to herself but, from the looks of it, she could see he was making efforts. He tried not being too obvious and not sucking up to her too much but he also wanted her to see that he was serious when he said he would do whatever it takes. They managed to have small talks and ate dinner together in front of the TV before going to sleep - still in separate rooms. As for physical intimacy, it was sparse. The only thing he got away with was holding her hand. It was incredibly frustrating - having her so close but so far away at the same time while trying his best to get her to forgive him. He was nervously beating around the bush, avoiding the topic but it was driving him crazy. In all of his previous relationships, it would have led to angry sex and the matter would have been settled and buried only to be dug up for the next argument. Not very healthy but, at least, he wouldn’t have to sleep alone. Thankfully, the evening before Thanksgiving, the universe seemed to be on his side. When he got back from the studio, he found Y/N in the home theater, preparing to watch a movie. 

Hey, he said. Mind if I join you ? 

Sure, she replied with a smile. How was your day ? 

It was alright, he said. What are we watching ? 

You can choose, she offered. I just wanted to get my mind off flower arrangements for a minute. 

Horror movie ? He suggested. I bet we can find one where a bridezilla gets killed, that might comfort you. 

Hey, Talia’s not that bad, she giggled. But yeah, let’s go for horror ! 

She seemed in a good mood, which was a good sign. They settled on a movie and he joined her on the couch. In all honesty, he couldn’t care less about the movie - all he wanted was to be with her. And the only reason he had suggested watching a horror movie was because he knew she was chicken-hearted and, at that point, he would take any excuse and opportunity to hold her. If that implied relying on a jumpscare scene, so be it. He usually had better moves than that with the ladies, but this felt like a last resort. Sure enough, a scary scene came up and he saw her jump up a bit. He tried to hide a smile and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She muttered a “thank you” and focused on the movie. Every time the atmosphere got tense in the movie, he could feel her squirming and nervously bite her lip. And every single time, he pulled her a bit closer to him, until her legs were practically over his. He was almost brought back to the times when they were just friends and every brush against her took his breath away. Being with her, he had gotten used to the proximity, but now that she had deprived him of her touch, it felt the same as before. She took him by surprise by reaching for his hand and interlocking their fingers. He was feeling like a teenager on his first date at the movies. Should he try and kiss her ? Or would it ruin the moment ? It was stupid how much power she had over him. How nervous she could make him, and her ability to make him fall for her all over again just by holding hands. Another jumpscare scene occurred and she let out a small scream before hiding her face in his neck. God bless horror movies. He couldn’t contain a small laugh. 

You’re enjoying this, aren’t you ? She whispered accusingly. 

I missed this, he admitted. I missed you. 

I missed you too, you know ? 

She looked at him and he could not resist the temptation to capture her lips with his own. She immediately kissed him back, her lips feeling softer than ever. Four days without her touch was way too long. He could feel his heart rate increasing as her lips parted and their tongues found each other. He ran his fingers through her hair while she traced his shoulders with her fingers. Her touch was electrifying and he simply couldn’t get enough. He kissed her over and over again. 

I love you, he whispered. I love you so much. 

I love you too, she said emotionally. 

I need you, he pleaded. Let me make love to you. 

Ok, she whispered, her breath accelerating. 

As soon as she spoke, he did not waste time and got up before taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. Their bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind them, making it clear that she was not going anywhere. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to want to. She was looking at him in anticipation. He went back to her and kissed her passionately before pushing her on the bed. He took his time making love to her, enjoying her soft moans and the sensation of her legs around his waist. Her nails scratched his back as she cried his name when they both reached their apex. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck as they caught their breath. 

You’re incredible, he said lovingly. And I’m never letting you out of this room ever again. 

Really ? She giggled. 

Try me, he said with a grin. 

She gave him a playful look and tried to get out of bed but he held her even closer, causing her to struggle a little. She tried wrestling him, but to no avail. Eventually, she gave in to his warm embrace and let her head roll onto his chest. 

So… I guess I have no choice but to sleep here tonight ? 

Don’t tell me you were seriously thinking about sleeping in the other room ? He groaned. 

Not really, she confessed with a small smile. I don’t like sleeping apart. I hate being mad at you, you know ? 

And I hate it when you’re mad at me, he replied. I’ll do better. I promise. 

I know, she shrugged. Sorry it took me a while to cool off. 

I really hurt you, he said. I understand. But just so you know, I want to do everything I can to deserve you. 

In all fairness, it wasn’t just you, you know ? She explained. It was a lot to process in very little time. I was triggered and brought back to some tough memories. I needed a little time on my own… 

I get it, he said. I missed you, though. 

I missed you too, she said. 

I don’t want to lose you, Y/N, he said in all seriousness. 

I know, she said. I’m still here. 

He nodded and closed his eyes, relaxing a bit as she traced the outline of his tattoos with her index. She let out a small giggle as she looked at his stomach tattoo. 

What ? He asked as he opened an eye. 

I just remembered I’m meeting the woman whose name I see every time I go down on you, she said with a smirk. 

He was a bit taken aback by the comment. She was smiling but it was the first time she commented on Kim’s name being tattooed on him. He’d had these for so long that he tended to forget about them anyway. Now that she mentioned seeing the tattoo every time she went down on him, though, he was feeling a bit self-conscious about it.

Is that a problem ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. The tattoo ? 

Not really, she shrugged. I don’t really see it, most of the time, you know. It’s just kind of funny, when you think about it. 

Right, he hummed. So… You’re not too stressed out about tomorrow ? 

I don’t know, she said. It’s still weird but, realistically speaking, I don’t have anything to worry about, right ? 

Of course not, he said. 

I’ll be fine, then, she replied. I guess I’m curious, though. 

About what ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 

About her, she said. You had a complicated relationship with her. 

That’s one way to put it, he said. But, you know, as far as I’m concerned, she’s more like an old friend, and I know it’s the same for her. I’m just good old annoying Marshall. So, really, you have nothing to worry about. 

I know, she said with a smile. And when I start freaking out about it, I remember that you’re not married to her anymore. 

She was smiling softly, visibly at peace with the situation. That was encouraging and a good sign for the next day’s celebrations. However, he was starting to feel his anxiety rise once again. Right when he thought everything was getting back to normal and that he could enjoy Thanksgiving in peace, his past had to come and bite him in the ass. Y/N was looking at him lovingly and he could not find it in himself to contradict her. The only problem was, by saying nothing, he was lying to her face. He was still very much married to Kim.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem imagine

[astro-nautics]

reading Sword of Destiny & i have feelings about that one confrontation between istredd and geralt. so i ended up doodling a little gerlion comic to give the witcher some comfort after that whole ordeal

bonus doodle under the cut!

#if witcher's feelings aren't real and simply just memories then how come geralt /loves/ his bff huh? check and mate #also not posting this on my art blog bc its just a very rough little comic idea #the witcher #gerlion #the witcher books #geralt of rivia #dandelion #istredd saying those dehumanizing things about geralt & then geralt repeating them later while talking with yen like he internalized them #ouch. oof. my heart #there were so many sad sentences in that chapter #''he...'' the witcher cleared his throat ''he calls you yenna.'' will live in my mind rent free now thank you #joon reads the witcher #my art

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance

Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.

*********************************************************

1984

Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.

A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.

You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.

"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.

"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not too long."

"You didn't want to wake me up?"

"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.

"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.

He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.

"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”

“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.

You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit,  but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way. 

Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.

“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.

The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.

 “And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”

“Oh really?”

You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.

“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.

All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.

You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.

“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.

“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.

“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.

“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.

Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?

"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”

His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.

Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.

You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.

Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.

“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.

You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”

Ben blinks. “What?”

“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.

You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.

Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.

“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?

“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”

“What?” You ask confused by the change.

“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.

You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.

“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”

Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.

But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.

“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"

“Sorry baby I can’t.”

The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest.  Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.

“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“

“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.

“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.

“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.

“Oh, Okay.”

He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.

What just happened?

When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.

As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.

You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.

The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.

Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?

The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.

You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.

Didn't he?

*******************************************************

"Indigo over here!"

"Indigo who are you with tonight?"

"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"

The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.

But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.

He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.

Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.

You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.

And then he'd run away.

You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.

Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.

So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?

As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.

All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.

It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.

When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.

"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.

He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.

"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.

Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.

How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-

The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.

"Ben can we talk?" You ask.

"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.

"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.

"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.

You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.

Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.

"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.

And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.

Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.

But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.

Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.

Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.

The thought made you irrationally angry.

"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.

"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."

"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"

"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.

So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?

"I don't really feel like dancing-"

"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.

You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.

He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.

How could I have been so stupid?  You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.

Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"

"Huh?" You look up from his tie.

"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.

"Yeah." You mutter.

"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.

The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.

And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-

The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is  clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.

"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.

"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."

"I'm not really a scientist-"

"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"

"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."

"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."

"How?"

"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"

"Next generation?"

"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"

"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."

"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"

"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."

"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.

"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.

Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.

You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.

Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.

You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.

You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.

The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.

You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.

"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."

Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.

“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.

“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.

You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.

Ben doesn't say anything.

“Get out.” You snap.

“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"

Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.

I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?

She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.

“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.”  You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.

“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.

It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.

Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-

Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.

“Ben why are you doing this?”  You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.

“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.

"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"

"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.

Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”

“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”

 “I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“

“So?”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”

“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“

“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”

Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”

The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?

“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”

Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”

“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

Ben freezes.

“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”

“So?”

“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”

“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”

 “I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.

Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.

But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.

“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.

The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.

“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”

Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.

Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.

Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.

“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.

Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.

Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.

“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.”  You spit.

You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.

*******************************************************

A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

[twinklelilstarkey]

Tutor: Long Overdue

Words: 3k+ Type: Some angst, but fluff Summary: The days after the argument. Warnings: Rafe is the softest boyfriend in the world. Y/N has some problems with overthinking and anxiety here. Mentions of alcohol. Mentions of narcissist friends. A filler chapter for you to take a breath in the middle of the angst.

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

You wish you could say that everything went by smoothly after that conversation. But you would be lying if you said so.

When you got out of that car, your hands were visibly shaking. It was out of your control. It was a mix of all your emotions just building up inside you and wanting to come out all at once. It was the frustration, the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness. You hated every single second of that conversation. How helpless you felt at times. The way your supposed friends looked at you as you spoke. It was as if you had gone insane.

Thankfully, when inside the house, Wheezie had run upstairs for a quick shower before your tutoring class, or else she would’ve seen you cry your eyes out in front of her brother. You felt weak for doing so, but you still did it. You cried the entire time you told Rafe everything about what had happened. You noticed how he had no idea what to say or what to do for you, other than give you comfort. And you let him do it, as that felt like what you needed too.

When Wheezie had come back downstairs with her things - since she wanted to study outside this time - you had already wiped your tears clean and didn’t feel like you would cry at every sentence that left your lips. To your luck, your eyes didn’t appear too puffy when she laid her eyes on you, which spared you from many questions.

By the time you were helping her study, Rafe still kept a close eye on you. He would never disappear from your view for too long, always either sitting on his phone on the porch or coming out to the table near the pool, where the two of you were. He made you and Wheezie laugh from time to time.

It lifted your mood ever so slightly, but deep down you still were filled with worry and hurt. How far could this go? Could the girls go further than this? Maybe by telling other people, or simply talking to their other friends about this. Was there a possibility this could get to your parents before you even had the chance of finishing high school as you had planned?

All these questions, they made worry bubble in your blood at the most random of times during that afternoon. By the end of it, Ward and Rose eventually came home. Rafe was by the island of the kitchen when Rose stepped out of the kitchen to get you your monthly paycheck, and Sarah Cameron stood in that kitchen for a single second, and the first thing she said to you was: “Are you okay? You look… down.”

If that did anything to you was to force yourself to put on a better act. You were just about to go home as Ward had asked for Rafe to drive you. You didn’t want your parents to see you and ask the same things. It would be harder to lie to them than to Sarah.

You two sat in the car in silence for a bit, and you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you. Silence only gave you the excuse to want to cry more, even when you still felt ridiculous for it. You tried to hold it back, but whenever a tear would slip, Rafe was there. He calmed you down and held your hand or sometimes said something that would make your heart hurt less.

At home, you forced yourself to make conversation with your parents - knowing that if you didn’t, they would’ve followed you to your room to find a reason behind your silence. All of it was forced and unnatural small talk, but your parents didn’t seem to notice. Your mom was too focused on making a new recipe for dinner, and your dad was too focused on his reading to look up from the book in his hands.

The rest of the day wasn’t any easier. Rafe asked if you wanted to come over, but you know that it wouldn’t make anything easy. It would simply make your feelings go temporarily numb. You didn’t need that. You needed to just face it for what it is: a stupid confrontation that you saw coming from a mile away because it had to happen eventually. It just came sooner than you expected.

Sleep didn’t come easy either. By the time you finally fell asleep, there weren’t many hours of rest before having to get up for class. You hid whatever hints of your exhaustion with make-up, as well as put on a happier expression just so you could make your way through the house and to school without any questions coming from your parents.

Breakfast was uneventful, just like dinner the day before. And your dad drove you to school just as you had planned beforehand.

In class, if you were used to the girls' looks before, this day had been another level of staring. And given the fact that you share every class with each of them, your sadness and worry quickly turned into anger by lunch hour. They didn’t try to speak to you or even ambush you all at once again. They just sat there at their little tables watching you as if you were some experiment about to go wrong.

Kristy wasn’t in school. She missed every single one of her classes. And all that made you think was how thankful you were for the lack of her staring too.

By the time you were done with classes for the day and inside Rafe’s car, you were still in your depressing bubble but more annoyed than anything else. And that is when a call from Patty came in. There was going to be a party tonight.

You're not ashamed to admit you didn’t even think twice before answering her. You wanted to go to that party. And you did.

Not that you remember much from it now that you lay on Rafe’s bed, silently contemplating your life choices, but you like to think that you had fun.

You remember how you got to the party with Rafe, and quickly found Patty, who made sure to give you as many drinks as you wished to have.

Rafe stepped away to find Topper and Kelce only after he made sure that Patty was going to actually stay by your side the whole night and entertain you enough.

You drank cup after cup of different concoctions made by Patty herself. Some were actually good, others… she just told you to drink it all in one gulp.

You were able to disconnect from reality while sitting in that kitchen with her, drinking and listening to her talk you through the process of making another drink. You two talked for a long time, or at least for enough time until the both of you weren’t exactly speaking in obvious and comprehensible sentences but in slurred words filled with giggles.

And you remember that you went off to find Rafe at some point. You remember that he was very much sober at that time. You remember flashes of sitting on that couch with him and his friends. Patty would eventually join you on the couch and start a conversation that would make a lot more sense than any of the guys' around the table. You also remember that it was way funnier at the time than now.

Also, at one point into the night, you decided that playing, or better, patting Rafe’s buzzed head was the best idea you could ever have. Your drunk mind must have been blown to realize how weird it felt to touch his short hair and feel it prickle your palm. Rafe didn’t seem to mind it too much - even though he must have told you to stop at one point because you remember being dramatically hurt by something he said to you.

Maybe you had exaggerated by deciding to numb your thoughts with alcohol when you know that hanging out with these people would simply do the job. You didn’t need to get that drunk. But you still felt like it was the best time to do it, as well as with the best people.

Hanging out with people like Patty and Topper is nice. They were never your type of crowd, but even when drunk or high, last night, they did listen to you when you talked about what happened. It happened when some of you decided to step outside for some air, while others, like Rafe, decided to stay back. You told them everything, and they listened. And they also offered to help, in any way possible.

That memory alone made your heart squeeze in your chest. Maybe, yes, this is how real friends are supposed to be if they are able to. But it still felt good when they told you that if you ever needed to run away from life’s problems for a bit, they would be there for you, along with Rafe.

And to think that conversations like these resulted only from you choosing to date someone with a bad reputation. 

Since the beginning, you had a feeling that you would need to talk to someone about it - you and Rafe. Simply to let them know before they find out from someone else, and everything turns shitty. And, now, all you can do is acknowledge that you missed your opportunity and everything is indeed shitty. 

Your friends found out before you could even warm the waters with some information or subtle hints first. Maybe you could've told them about all the times Rafe hadn’t been like the awful cookie-cutter shape they all seem to find him fitting in at all times. You could’ve told them about how he is not bad and how he is indeed good. But you missed the opportunity to do so. You let them find out by themselves, and now they think you are in bed with a psychopath only for the thrill of it. Not with your boyfriend, who has never done a bad thing to you and is always putting you first.

Yet, even in the ocean of guilt, you can’t help but feel the anger that has begun to rise by itself. Yes, you had missed your opportunity, but your friends had also failed. They failed to speak to you in a civilized way. Failed to be there for you as they believed you were in a manipulating and abusive relationship. Failed to understand you. And failed at being your friends at the end of the day. They didn’t seem to care about your feelings that day, and they didn’t seem to care about anything but their fury toward you this week. They failed, even if you did so too.

And, as much as you hate it, there is still fear inside you. It has been pushed deep into you, hiding in a corner of your brain, stored away with other worries on top of it so it isn’t noticed by you any time soon. And that fear has a shape and name. Your parents. Because if your friends had their suspicions and found the truth, where does that put your parents?

They are a pair that believes in every word from the neighbors, as well as any word on the streets. If someone were to whisper about Rafe murdering a crocodile in the middle of the street, they would believe it - even when there aren’t any crocodiles near any roads in the OBX. They would believe it, every word of it. Maybe make theories of their own too. Imagine Rafe as this cartoonish supervillain, now wearing the skin of his victims as new shoes. It is ridiculous but absolutely believable to them.

How would they react? What would they do to you? You are of age, but still a student and living under their roof. What would they even think of you?

“Scoot over, you’re taking up the whole damn bed,” Rafe says while standing beside his bed.

You snap out of your horrible thoughts - with your mind still trying to envelop your heart with its dark and painful realities - and throw the pillow closest to you at him, hitting him in the chest. He doesn’t respond. He throws the pillow away and makes you move with a hand on your shoulder and another on your leg, pushing you further into the bed.

The coldness of the sheets under you make your body react in an uncomfortable wave of shivers, and you turn to face Rafe, who is lying on his back beside you now. On the bedside beside him, you can see that it is still early in the morning, meaning you still have a few hours before being dropped off at your house and then at school. And also, everyone in Rafe’s home is still very much asleep.

“Looking at the time won’t make it go by faster,” Rafe says, making you look at him.

“I want it to go slower, not faster.”

Rafe meets your gaze, and he holds it for a bit. A slight bit of a headache hits you right in the temple, and you try not to react by snuggling closer to the pillow under your head. Seems like you were never truly someone blessed with no headaches while hungover, just lucky on that one time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Headache.” You groan into the pillow, closing your eyes to escape his gaze for only a bit.

It takes a few seconds before he talks again.

“What else?” His tone is soft and worrisome. When hearing his question, you don’t move; not even an inch. You just lay there for a bit, listening to your own heartbeat with your ear buried in the pillow. You let some heartbeats go by in your silence, but Rafe waits for you. Never pushes you. He just waits.

“I’m… worried, I think.” You whisper so softly, you almost don’t hear yourself.

“About your friends?”

“That too,” You open your eyes as you talk, “But more about my parents.”

“Why?”

“They’re strict. Very strict,” You explain, even though you know that Rafe already knows that, or else he hadn’t been climbing your window and whispering in your room for months. “They always reacted badly to dating. And they never liked you or your family.”

“Many don’t,” he says with a small curve on his lips.

“It’s different,” you try to explain in as few words as you can, “They’re worse than Kristy or any of the girls would be.”

Rafe simply looks at you, silent. You look at him and let out a breath. 

“I don’t know what they’re going to do when they find out...” You tell him, sincerely. “I just want it all to be after graduation.”

He still doesn’t say anything, so, he simply lets you talk.

“I think that’s what I’m so scared of… The fact that I don’t know what to expect from their reaction.” You sigh, “And that is why I wanted it to be later. So I can- I don’t know, run away before they get to do anything.”

“What’s the worst thing they can do?”

“I’m not sure…” You whisper, your eyes meeting his again. “Kick me out, probably. Never speak to me again,” You try to say it with a positive tone, one that doesn’t seem to consider those options to be true, when, in reality, nothing ever felt more possible than this.

Rafe makes a face that doesn’t seem like he’s convinced.

“I can’t be that bad.” And that earns him a smack.

Rafe’s laughter fills the room, and a small involuntary smile appears on your lips.

“Be serious,” You tell him, turning around to lay on your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows. You groan with the slight headache pounding on your head, and Rafe’s hand soon lays over your head, trying to soothe the pain away.

“I’m sorry,” He says.

“I’ll think about it,” You say while meeting his eyes. Some sort of humor comes out with your words, and Rafe notices it. He grins and simply looks at you for a moment.

You two stay quiet for a little longer before you start letting more words out, explaining your worries to Rafe while he simply listens. He just lays there and nods, giving you his utmost attention.

And, as expected, you two talk for so long that time does the opposite of what you want it to. It just speeds past you two, and everyone in the house begins to get up and get ready for the day. 

While listening to the doors opening and closing around the house, as well as some screaming about breakfast from one floor to the other, you two lay in Rafe’s bed in silence. Rafe’s hand is on your pillow, fallen from your hair, and now under your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb while you lay there, hugging your pillow with your eyes closed.

Rafe stares at you for a bit. There would be no way of you catching him doing it, with your eyes closed and body ready to go back to sleep. You are laying on his bed, lacking clothes, and with only a soft white duvet over your legs all the way up to your waist. Your back is uncovered, and your hair is a mess, but the scenery is perfect. Rafe’s heart tightens at the memory of the tears you’ve spilled in the last few days. He can’t help but feel guilty over it, even when you remind him that he has nothing to feel guilty about. 

You’ve told him time and time again. Whatever has happened has nothing to do with him. It has to do with control. Control that some of these people want to have over you or have had for so long - even when that control was disguised as love and worry of you ever getting hurt. Truthfully, it would’ve been indeed love if they wished to speak to you calmly and got to know Rafe. But your friends never dared to.

And Rafe knows how much you wish your parents to be different. Even when you teared up while saying it just now, Rafe listened as your tone was thick with hope - the hope of your parents to be on your side when all of it comes out. And still, all he can do is be there for you until all this ends, whenever that will be.

Rafe leans over and pulls you closer to him, which you let him with no hesitation. Your head lays over his shoulder, and your arms go around him. Rafe hugs your body close to him and kisses the top of your head, cherishing the small breath you let out as he does it.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, your breath warm against his skin.

Rafe leans his head in closer to yours and kisses your hair. There is no surprise for either of you to say it. No fear of the love not being reciprocated. No fear of rejection because all of it is obvious, even in the midst of all this mess. Those words were long overdue.

“I love you too,” He whispers, making you lean in closer to his warmth.

- - - - - -

*Giggles in 'shit is about to hit the fan but I am making y'all suffer in anticipation'*

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #tutor #tutor series #drew starkey #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron s3 #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n #rafe angst #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x reader

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA (rape), Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ content, Stalking, Possessiveness (let me know down below if there's more to be added, please and thank you)

Word Count: 1.4k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain

A/n: Oh my gosh, I didn't think the first part would get so many hits already! Thank you so much for reading this current series! I've decided that this story is going to be my main focus and I'm putting the others on hold for now. Let me know in the comments below if you want to be added to the tag list. Also, keep in mind this story takes place in SCREAM 1996 (The Original) so some or a lot of the plot will be in it. Thank you :)

All chapter links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 2

Monday, the first day of the week, the day that everyone dreaded. It meant the end of a great Weekend and the start of a long and exhausting forthcoming week ahead. 

You pulled into the driveway of Woodsboro High school, your ‘67 Chevy glistened in the sun’s light. You rolled the windows up, opened the door and stepped out, grabbing your bag in the process. 

Double clicking your keys’  button, your car beeped, indicating it was now locked.

The parking lot was littered with News Vans, Journalists and their Cameramen, along with police cars and Officers. You narrowed your eyes, confused, seeing all the commotion. 

“What the fu--” You uttered, cutting yourself off, seeing the auditorium sealed off. 

“(Y/n)! Over here!” You hear Tatum shout and you jerk your head in the direction.

“Hey, Tate..” You trailed, seeing Sidney next to her, “Hi, Sid..” You nodded, greeting them. “Do you two have any idea what is going on?” You asked, gesturing to everything around you.

Just as Tatum was about to answer, Gale Weathers, and her annoyingly pitched voice began talking. 

“The small town of Woodsboro, California, was devastated last night, when two young teenagers were found brutally murdered.” Gale took a breath before continuing her speech in front of her cameraman. “Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made, and the murderer could strike again..” 

Your head was filled with questions, who were the students that were killed? What if you were the next victim? Why hasn’t the killer been found yet? 

You gulped and your face tinted pink from nerves. 

“Do you believe this shit?” Tatum suddenly spoke, jolting both you and Sidney from your thoughts. 

“Tatum what is going on?” You and Sidney both asked in unison. 

“I was going to answer earlier, but Gale seemed to have your attention more.” Tatum licked her lips, and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. The blonde glanced at you and Sidney, “Wait, so you really don’t know?” She asked, her eyes wide. 

“Yeah, no shit, why else would I be asking?” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm evident in your voice. 

“Okay, okay…” Tatum mumbled, “Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night.” 

“What?” Sidney began, “No way…” You finished Sidney’s sentence for her. 

“And we’re not just talking killed. We’re talking splatter-movie killed.” Tatum made hand motions and began walking, you and Sidney followed her lead. 

“Ripped open from end to end.” The blonde looked at you, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English.” Sidney gasped.

“Her boyfriend, Steve Orth, sat next to me in Drama..” You frowned, looking at Sidney. 

“Well, not anymore…” Tatum sputtered. 

“Ugh, that’s too bad…” You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.

“It’s so sad…” Tatum looked at the ground, kicking at a stone in her way. “Her mom and dad, they found her hanging from a tree, her insides on the outside…” Tatum placed her hands behind her back, rubbing the soles of her arm. “And Steve, God, he was found bound to a chair and his stomach ripped open..” 

“Oh, my God..” You groaned, sadness lingering in your voice. “Do they know who did it?” You asked, side-eyeing Tatum.

“They have no idea. They’re fuckin’ clueless.” 

You, Tatum and Sidney walked up the school’s steps. 

“They’re interrogating the entire school…” Tatum exhaled before listing off people, “Teachers, students, janitors--”

You butted in, “They think it’s school related?” You raised a brow, gripping the side of your arm, nails digging into your flesh. The anxiety of it all, started building up in the pit of your stomach. You felt nauseous.

Tatum stopped in front of you and Sidney, “They don’t know…” Tatum glanced into your hues before looking at Sidney, “I mean, Dewey was saying this is the worst crime they’ve seen in years. Even worse then--”

“Tate…” You warned, gesturing for her to choose her words carefully when speaking to Sidney. Yes, you may not like Sidney as much, but she doesn’t deserve to be reminded of her mother’s rape and murder. 

The bell rings, signaling the start of class, making the conversation dwindle. 

Tatum sighed, jabbing her two index fingers together, out of nervousness. “Well.. It’s bad.” 

--

You tapped your pencil against your desk, staring beside you. 

Little do your friends know, Steve was also your ex-boyfriend. After you guys had a falling out, he had left you for Casey. You didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment of anyone knowing you were the dumpee and not the dumper, plus, he was secretly seeing you while he was in another relationship before Becker. You didn’t want anyone to judge you for it. You felt guilty as is, but the way he was able to charm you with his words and physical touch, you couldn’t help yourself, but keep going for more. However, as far as anyone else knows, you guys were just close friends.

You moaned, letting your head droop, “Jesus…” You whispered, drumming your fingers, trying to settle the sick feeling in your gut. 

“(Y/n) (L/n), it would appear to be your turn.” The teacher said, looking at you, and the rest of the class turned their heads to meet your gaze.

You nodded, looking one last time at the empty desk next to you, where Steve used to sit. 

You grabbed your books, pencil case and water bottle, shoving them quickly into your bag. 

--

“Who’s up next?” The principal asked.

“Um, (Y/n) (l/n)..” Dewey looked over his papers.

“Wait, wasn’t she the one who found Maureen Prescott last year--” The principal began, but stopped, seeing you in the doorway. 

“Ah, (Y/n). How have you been?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You smiled half-heartedly, sitting down on the blue-cushioned chair. 

“Hi, (Y/n)..” 

“Hello, Sheriff Burke, Dewey…” You inhaled, feeling the nerves begin to rile back up. You tapped your foot off the ground, shaking your leg, feeling your hands sweat.

“Uh, that’s Deputy Riley today, (Nickname).” Dewey winked. 

“How is Everything?” Sheriff Burke looked you over, seeing how anxious you were. 

“Um, could be better…” You mumbled, looking down. 

“Huh, why’s that?” Burke leaned forward. You sank in your chair, feeling rather intimidated. 

“Look, we’re gonna keep this very brief, (Y/n), alright?” The principal placed a broad hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The police just want to ask you a few questions, okay?” 

You nodded. 

“(Y/n), were you very close to Steve Orth?”

‘Shit..’ You thought. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I was…” You wiped your hands off your jeans, trying to dry them off.

“How close?” Burke, scribbled down on his board, awaiting your answer.

You gulped, looking at Dewey, silently praying he’d step in, seeing how apprehensive you were, but he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t, he was doing his job.

“We dated…” You started, “Last year for a couple months…” 

“How come the relationship ended?” 

“Uh, we--, um, we had a falling out.” 

“What type?” 

“Jesus--” You groaned, rubbing your thighs with your hands, “He was seeing me behind his then girlfriend's back, we slept together a few times, okay?” You came clean, “He wanted it to end, but I didn’t, but he ended up leaving anyway, leaving for Casey. That’s it, I swear.” You teared up, “I feel so bad about the whole situation as it is, poor Brooke, she didn’t know anything, but he left both of us for Casey..” You placed your hands over your face as quiet sobs escaped your lips. “Am I in trouble?” You peaked through the creases of your fingers, a blush forming across your face. 

“For having an affair with him? No, of course not, but that does move you on top of my suspect list.” 

You whined, misery coating your mind, “Why? I didn’t kill him..” You uttered, wiping your nose with your light-blue sleeve. “I was hurt, but that doesn’t mean I’d kill him for being scorned…” You trailed, meeting Sheriff Burke's eyes. “I couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a human being…” 

“Uh, Sheriff?” Dewey stepped in, “I mean, she’s right, there’s no way she could do something like that.” Dewey glanced at you. 

The Sheriff sighed, “We just have to ask you a few extra questions, that’s it.. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that, I should’ve worded it differently. It’s only because you were close with him, you were his mistress at one point, so it’s somewhat suspicious.” He rubbed his chin, “Mistress was upset by Steve breaking relations off, so Mistress sets a plan for revenge. You catch my drift?” He looked at you, and you slouched.

“Yeah..” Was all you could muster out, you sniffled, hugging yourself, waiting for more questions to be asked. “Alright, let’s get this over with…” 

<-Previous Next->

#billy loomis x female reader #ghostface x female reader #billy x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #Stu macher x female reader #scream franchise #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher #ghostface #1996 #billy x you x stu #billy x you #stu x you #reader insert

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 8

Chapter Seven: Because of You

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 5.4K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, joel actually cares :0, just fucking sad shit tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child abuse

—————

I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes. I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with.

Joel and Tommy returned soon after you passed on the question. They expected some resistance or some smart comment but you accepted the meal with a noise of thanks and eyed the medicine Joel provided but took it regardless.

Ellie was quickly berated by both Miller brothers to understand what the sudden calm behavior came from and clearly, the young girl had something to do with it. “I just talked to her?” That was her response and it was the truth. A single conversation with the young girl that didn’t involve scolding or harassment about being seen as ‘normal’ in Jackson was what occurred. Ellie worked at your pace not pushing you to reveal everything and treated you like a human being, not some wild animal that the people of Jackson think you are.

Whatever you took knocked you out leaving you sleeping throughout the rest of the day only to awaken nearing sunset with a healthy meal Ellie had gotten from the mess hall by Joel’s orders but she did sneak some desserts in for you to eat. The environment and relationship that was changing from your near-death experience started to become more noticeable. You still kept to yourself, your bedroom and the stables your sanctuary from all that was outside, you hardly talked to Joel this instinct that keeps you at a distance from the man, Tommy it was more of him talking to you but you would add your two cents in and were so rigid when he would appear at the stables at random times to check in on you or to bring you something to eat.

The only person you would really ‘close’ to was Ellie. You started eating some meals with Ellie just the two of you and she would fill the silence by talking about whatever was on her mind with you speaking at times, she would hang around the stables and help with the horses when she wasn’t at school or hanging with Dina and Jesse. She took you to some places she would go with her friends and there was one interaction where you met Dina and Jesse that didn’t involve you beating someone up or trying to kill them when you first met them. It was awkward with you standing slightly behind Ellie just staring at the two teens as they tried making conversation with you either responding with grunts and nods or not even saying anything. But when Ellie would speak to you a few short sentences would come out but directed to her.

Despite being close to the younger girl and interacting with her friends you kept that boundary with the Millers and yourself. No matter how many times Tommy would invite you over for a ‘family’ dinner you refused.

“I’m not in your family.” And that’s how it would end, no amount of begging or offering of your favorite meals would convince you. Why would you have dinner with people who claimed it was for a family when you had no relation to them?

The cold was only getting more colder entering the final month of the year before spring would soon come. Making sure all the horses had extra hay for this chill in the air especially the two colts that are Dakota’s. Once they were situated you went out to do some last-minute things only to be interrupted by the appearance of Ellie petting one of the horses Shimmer.

“What are you doing here?” Your tone may have sounded cold and threatening to others but the young girl knew otherwise.

“Just wanted to see if you’re done here. I need help moving something from Tommy’s to the house.” She says rocking on her feet it looks like she just got out of school her pack still strapped to her back.

“Why can’t you get Dina or Jesse?” You question grabbing feed from some of the older horses petting Red in passing, “Because the two of them have this dinner date thing—blegh.” She says rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise.

“I thought they broke up?” You were very confused by the two’s on-and-off relationship, “Yeah they are doing this date to see if they want to get back together. Come on let’s go I need your help and everyone else is busy.”

Adding the remaining food in the large trough outside all of the older horses' section you move back inside grabbing your coat and throwing it on. “Fine.” Ellie pumps a fist up in the air with glee as you take your time signing out in the log and writing some notes on items needed. Ellie rocks on the heels of her feet,

“Come on let’s goooo.” She groans and you follow the girl out of the stables trying to take the quickest route to Rancher Street. Normally you would take backstreets walking through the few wooded areas only to walk through the main streets when completely abandoned. The awkwardness from the lingering stares from people as you follow the younger girl like a shadow keeping close by but distant enough that people seemed to move away when the two of you came near. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t looking for companionship or kindness from these people you didn’t know them and they didn’t need to know you.

The family street appears as the two of you pass by the house you reside in towards the other house containing the younger Miller brother and his wife and child. Ellie bounds up the porch steps letting herself in holding the door open for you to follow. You hear the door close behind you and the sound of voices further into the house but you can’t make it out.

“Tommy we’re here!” Ellie calls out and Tommy responds with an ‘Over here!’ and the two of you enter more into the house. You should have noticed something was off with Ellie’s almost nervous but excited energy. When the two of you turned the corner and saw the dining room you stopped in your tracks. The table was set for dinner food was already prepared Tommy held his son on his hip bouncing the slightly fussy baby, Joel sat on one side of the table already nursing a glass of whiskey, while Maria entered with what you assume was the final piece of the dinner.

“Great you guys are here come sit food is still hot.” Tommy gestures as he places his son into the chair designed for the baby before taking his seat at the head of the table. Maria moves to sit beside her child the baby separating the couple. Ellie already throws off her pack and coat taking a seat beside Tommy leaving an empty seat between Ellie and Joel. You still haven’t moved staring at the display.

“Come on kid, food’s gonna get cold,” Tommy calls out to you and your eyes slowly move from the table to the man. He carries an almost hopeful smile on his face as the others stare at you waiting for you to join in their family meal.

“What the fuck is this.” Void of emotion and sharp edge to your words. You were cornered the air was thin and a pit in your stomach made your insides churn.

“Hey, language,” Joel calls out in a warning tone, especially before the young child. Your gaze snaps away from Joel to Ellie who looks anxious about the growing tension, “You said we were just picking something up from here.” Your throat felt tight and a tingling sensation fills your fingers flexing them trying to gain feeling.

A sheepish look covers the young girl, “You wouldn’t have said yes if I asked. You never said yes before. So I thought this would be the best way to get you to come…” Her plan which everyone else seemed to be involved in had backfired horribly.

“I’m not hungry.” Your response is short already rejecting all of this: this idea, the meal, the people, everything. You didn’t want this. “You haven’t eaten since lunch and that was hours ago.” Tommy brings up having been the one to bring lunch for you just a simple sandwich not filling enough to miss dinner.

“I’m not eating that.” You shake your head sending a glare to the meal before you. Though the smell and appearance of it once made your mouth water and crave it you only felt ill looking at it.

“We can get you something I’m sure we can mix something up real quick. It would be good to all sit together and talk about how our day has been anything just a nice family dinner.” Tommy tries to convince you but it was that one word that made you want to hurl.

“I’m not part of your fucking family.” You hiss taking a step back, “I don’t want this or you or anyone.” You wanted to bolt you wanted to be back in that cabin maybe you should have pressured them more to put you out of your misery back then or maybe not fought as hard against those raiders.

“Why can’t you just accept our help or the fact we care about you?! Sure the world is fucked up but you don’t need to hate the small amount of good that is left,” Ellie stands taking a step towards and a frustrated look crosses her face. “If some shit happened to you just talk to us but don’t fucking act like your the only one suffering. You don’t want a chance to be a part of a family that cares for you again be my fucking guest.” It was like a punch in your gut and if there was any food in your system it would have left your stomach. Your gaze snaps to the three adults each of them with ranges of pity.

Fucking pity.

They saw you as someone weak.

Some broken little thing that needed fixing.

Your gaze pauses briefly with Maria’s, the understanding of how hard those words affected you. She knew the truth she knew why you were cold-hearted your life focused on yourself and everyone else was your enemy. The look of a mother who wished to comfort a child. Why hadn’t you ever received that look? What made you so different that she could never give you that look? It made you fucking sick.

A metallic taste floods your mouth from how hard you are biting your cheek. The weight on your chest felt unbearable just having them stare at you. You don’t even think you could respond unless it was to throw up. It was hot and uncomfortable in that room and it only seemed to rise in temperature. Your vision just seems to tunnel black creeping in from the side.

Fuck you can’t breathe.

You probably could have ripped the door from the hinges from how hard you swung the door open. A loud crash as the door slams against the wall but you don’t even care. Numb feet trip down the steps the coldness of the air heightens as you rush away. The people inside that house their voices fall on deaf ears. You couldn’t hear anything. Blindly letting your body guide you somewhere finding the familiar clearing that was introduced to you by Ellie. Where you sat awkwardly to the side just observing the trio of friends laugh and tell jokes. They tried to include you but you just shook your head listening in as you picked the dirt under your nails. Your chest screamed for air that it desperately needed. The blood spills freely from your mouth staining the snow a crisp crimson. You hold onto a tree with one hand hunched over gasping for air surprised you haven’t buckled over.

Why didn’t she care about you?

Why didn’t she love you? She could have at least pretended for your sake.

And why didn’t he stay? Did he care that little that he didn’t want to try?

Was she right? Just a bastard child to a bastard father.

“Kid?” Your eyes darted spotting the couple standing a few feet away from you. Maria holds her son in her arms the baby is sound asleep wrapped up. Tommy takes a step forward and you react taking a stumbling step back swiping your mouth ridding the blood that paints your lips and a bit of your chin. “You’re alright..” Tommy stops holding his hands out like he’s talking down some rabid animal.

“Tommy,” Maria calls out to her husband who glances back as the woman moves forward, “Go tell the other I got her…give us some time to talk. Girl on girl.” She says before looking over at you who watches the interaction with cautious eyes. Tommy hesitates just for a moment before taking his son and leaving the clearing until it’s just the two of you. Maria heads swiping some snow off the log that substitutes as a bench taking a sit before patting one end. You don’t move keeping your distance.

“You don’t have to might be nice just to sit and talk.” She says warmly, not an ounce of disgust or even remotely upset with your actions in her home. You shuffle forward but sit on the snowy floor a good foot or two separating you. “Ellie is sorry for what she said, though I’m sure she’d feel even worse if she knew how hard those words hit you huh.” She speaks not expecting you to respond. Finding more interest in the snow your gloved hand tracing shapes in the snow.

“Is it the fact that you don’t want to have dinner with us or you’ve never been given the opportunity to have a normal meal with people?” Maria saw the way your gaze snapped to her before darting back to the snow avoidant of the adult’s gaze.

You’re not even sure you’ve had a decent meal in your entire life. Even being here in Jackson you’ve eaten the bare minimum to survive. Why would you indulge yourself in the luxuries of a homecooked meal or even fresh food? You didn’t deserve it, a stranger in this place. No reason for them to feed you well enough until they can throw you make in that cell or perhaps turn you over to the raiders.

“It’s not fair.” You mumble and Maria looks down at you not rushing you to speak, “You live this great life, a perfect little family in this perfect town. Nothing is wrong with you.”

“Not everything is perfect. We’ve all lost something…some more than others. I hav—had a son, Kevin,” Maria falters slightly and you can hear the sudden sadness lace her voice as you look up at her, “He was only three on Outbreak Day. Tommy has lost people he’s cared for, same with Joel and Ellie. It takes time to come to peace and some just never get over it.” Maria says a sense of peace despite the fact of losing a child.

“It still hurts but the pain gets easier but it never leaves. Some days are better than others. I can only be grateful for the life I have now and knowing my little boy is in a better place.” Her voice gets all choked up and she swipes away a stray tear from he misty eyes.

“I’m sure he knows he is loved.” You say softly and she nods looking down as a few tears fall but she takes a moment to compose herself.

“I’m sure in another world both my sons would have known each other. I’m sure in another world your mother would have loved you the way you deserved to be loved.” She says and you’re not sure how to react.

You’re not sure you could ever imagine a world where she loved you. To hold you in her arms like you were fragile glass. To read to you stories about far-off lands of heroes fighting to save the day. To soothe your tears and heal your cuts and scrapes you gained for having too much fun not from getting beaten and burned by those around you. To care about your interests and the things you enjoy. To be funny and make you laugh so hard you cry. To hold your hand when you are scared and protect you from the nightmares and fears that couldn’t hurt you. To make you a homemade meal to sit at a table and talk about your day and just be together. Maybe you would have a day in that picture. He’d come home from whatever job existed before the Outbreak Day, complain about the long day but happy to come home to his daughter and wife.

“I don’t think she’d ever love me no matter what world we lived in.” You wonder what kind of person you’d be in a different life but you believe that some people truly can’t change. Maybe this apocalypse truly brought out the real side that people had hidden in a normal society. “I’d rather have her lie to me. To at least act like she wanted to read me stories, to hold me on the cold nights instead of sleeping by a barely working radiator, to have my father be in my life and not just a string of drug addicts and horrible men, to tend to my wounds from bullies instead of learning how to stitch my first cut at nine, to just sit with me and a goddamn table and talk to me! To treat me like her kid...her fucking daughter instead of some bastard child!” Your throat grew more tight and your vision more blurry. It was anger a hatred towards her. You were jealous of all of those people who had good parents. A father in their life. A mother who loved them. You got neither. You wanted that. You craved it.

“I just wanted a mom.” You gritted out a burning in your eyes until you felt something run down your cheeks. Raising your hand see wetness appear on your gloves before turning your attention to Maria who looks at you sadness covering her eyes. Harshly rubbing your eyes to rid the tears and scowl though not a very good one. “Doesn’t matter it’s stupid anyway.”

“It’s not.” Maria defends against your statement, “You deserved someone to care for you and she failed you. Not you. You deserved that life you wanted and she failed to give that to you. She failed at being a mother. You didn’t fail as a daughter.” She says and it’s quiet between the two of you. A mother who wished she could’ve given the world to her first child but was given the chance to try again and a daughter who gave all she could’ve to a woman who was meant to be a mother and given nothing in return. Maria stands up holding a hand out for you. It’s a moment before you accept her hand though it’s not the action of helping you stand but telling you something deeper.

A mother caring for a child that isn’t even hers.

The walk back to Rancher Street has a new energy and a different feeling. You can’t describe how things changed between yourself and Maria but it did. As the familiar view of the house you occupy with Joel and Ellie comes into view a guiding hand rests on your shoulder and you’re brought away to the house that is Maria and Tommy’s. “Why are we going over here?” You ask confused maybe Joel and Ellie were waiting in their house. But they would have been waiting in their home for you to return.

“Just trust me.” She says and while a part of you, the part that screamed at you to run and hide. To reject this adult’s trust, you didn’t know her, she could hurt you, you don’t know her intentions. But you still followed after her until you reached inside the house that remained empty no sound of Joel or Ellie. Coming around the corner is Tommy and their son held in his arms. “You’re back.”

“Can you go sit at the dining table for a moment?” Maria asks and you nod trailing over to the dinner table to food still set and waiting for someone to eat it. You could hear some muffled voices a whole room separating you from deciphering the words between the couple. The couple returns with the male holding Liam as he places the baby in the highchair. The child babbles at his father before Tommy pulls away heading off to the kitchen with Maria. The baby seems in their own world before he makes eye contact with you and you feel locked in its gaze. A staring contest between a teenager and an infant. Pinned under the child’s innocent gaze unable to react. You weren’t sure what to do. He seems to see something you don’t do before giggles fill the room as it laughs at you. Maria and Tommy return the couple smile softly at the sight.

Your gaze snaps to Maria and Tommy, “I don’t know why it’s laughing at me.” The worried expression only causes the child’s laughter and babbling to increase.

“Well, Liam seems to like you so I don’t think you need to worry about him giggling at you,” Maria says before serving generous portions of food onto a large plate and covering it to keep the food all warm. She gives the plate to Tommy who collects his son and the two head back out and you watch them leave. “Where are they going?” You question as Maria grabs a new plate and starts filling it with a spread of the food placing it at one seat and grabbing a new plate she looks up at you.

“What would you like?” She asks and you look at the food, then the plate, then at her a look of confusion. “What?”

“What would you like to eat? There is chicken, a mix of vegetables, and mashed potatoes with some gravy we also have some leftover cookies but those can be for dessert.” She explains pointing at the different options before you. It hit you hard in the chest what she was doing for you. “You don’t have to stay, I can serve you and you can stay here and I’ll eat somewhere else or you can sit somewhere else in the house if you feel more comfortable.” She reassures you willing to work at your level. To just sit at a table and talk.

“You can choose.” You say fidgeting with the gloves on your hands feeling hot from the layered clothes. She does a spread of the options giving you the option to try everything with portions you would never serve yourself. It was too much food that you didn’t deserve. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen this much food just for you in your life. Maria settles down going to get started on her meal when she looks at you sitting across from her staring at the meal unsure where to start or if you even could. Maria stands up grabbing her plate, “Come on.” She grabs your plate and drink follows after her as the two of you leave the dining room finding yourself in the family room. Maria places her food on the small table in front of the couch gesturing for you to follow.

“You can sit on the floor or the couch whatever you prefer.” She says before moving toward the television to set something up. You sit on the ground your plate of food resting on the table at your chest your legs crossed under the small table. “You can start eating if you’d like. Don’t wait up for me.” She says over her shoulder and the hunger you’ve been holding back has you digging into the meal. Rich flavors and the weight of the fresh warm meal a great feeling in your body. A pleasant sound fills the room as light shines from the tv. Maria sits on the couch her plate resting on her lap as she starts to eat as the film begins on the screen.

“This is one of my favorites.” She says and the film plays and you’re sucked into the story reading the title of the film with wide curious eyes.

“The Lion King? How can a lion be a king?” You say looking back at the older woman, “Just watch the movie.” She says and you return your attention to what’s on screen.

You ended up moving up onto the couch around the midpoint, the food filling you up, and when Maria said that you were allowed to have more servings you declined so full from that. You weren’t sure how you got so invested in the film, feeling a deep sadness and shock when Mufasa died. To be invested in the characters Timon and Pumba a crack of a smile listening to their jokes. By the time the credits came it wasn’t shocking from the full meal, the film, and just the exhaustion from the day's events you drifted asleep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch your arms acting as a pillow.

Maria got to work quietly cleaning taking your plates to the kitchen and started to pack up the remaining food leaving leftovers for them but having some to give to Joel and Ellie. With the leftovers in hand, she glances at you still asleep on the couch the dim glow of the TV shines on your features before she quietly exits her home to fetch her husband and child.

Joel wasn’t sure what to say or do when you returned. Given Ellie’s outburst that quietly turned to guilt once you fled his brother’s home, they went out looking for you. Looking back at their home, then the stables all the while comforting the young girl who was filled with guilt for the harsh words she had spat. When Ellie suggested a location the young introduced the older one to they ran into Tommy with Liam who reassured them that Maria had you and they were talking things out and to return to their home.

Joel wasn’t expecting Tommy and his nephew to appear at his door with what looked like the meal they were meant to eat. Still, he questioned where you were but Tommy reassured him that Maria was providing her dinner and it would be better to make it a gradual approach involving you in these things. He could understand that, you kept to yourself eating meals alone in your room or at the stables when someone would bring you something, you came and went with little to no warning. Sometimes late a night he had to really strain his already bad hearing for the front door to quietly creak open and even quieter footsteps travel around the first floor before retreating to your room. So the four of them ate the meal Maria prepared in Joel’s dining room. Ellie hoped to apologize to you but for the time being, was able to distract herself with Tommy’s son. Now that it was truly dark and a meal would be over when another knock came at the door and it was Maria with leftovers he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.

“She fell asleep after dinner. Tuckered out from the day.” Maria says while trading the leftovers to Ellie for her son. Joel nods his fingers holding the loops of his belt, “Well myself or Ellie will come over in the morning to collect her.” When he said that he saw the look Tommy and Maria gave each other clearly he was out of the loop with something.

“What is it?” A hint of concern in his tone. “Joel..” Tommy starts not sure the best words as Maria takes Tommy’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze, “We’d think it might be better if the kid stays with us.”

Joel wasn’t sure how to take that news. Did you ask to stay with them given the events of today? Was it something he did before? “I’m sorry what?” The words didn’t seem to register.

“We just think it might be good for her to be in a more family-oriented environment,” Tommy says and Joel sends him a questioning look, “The hell does family-oriented mean?”

“Joel come on, she stays practically locked up in her room and if not she’s at the stables until she has no choice but to come back. Ellie talks and tries to spend time with her but seriously Joel do you know one thing about her? You both are busy anyways with Ellie in school and you with your patrols she’s left with nothing to do.” Tommy says and Joel feels like this is an attack on his skill of taking care of a child. His hand rests on the broken watch around his wrist. He raises Sarah all by himself with the help of Tommy but it is just him and his babygirl. Then there was Ellie he would say he is raising her well for an ambitious spitfire of a kid. Tommy’s words hurt him and the image he had of being a good parental figure but it shined a light. He saw Ellie as his daughter his kid to protect and care for but in the beginning, you were some brat shoved in his hands as his responsibility now but he couldn’t explain this need to watch over you. Though he did it while keeping a 15-foot pole separating you both.

“You said you couldn’t do it cause of Liam why the sudden change?” Joel wanted to find an excuse just the tiniest one so he could claim he was the better fit but he had no clue why he wished this. The old him would be rejoicing and letting them take you off his hands.

“That’s because we didn’t know her. All of us needed to learn to trust her and we do. She’ll be around at least one of us when with Liam and this might be the first step and getting her out of her shell,” Maria says “She’s been through a lot Joel and she’s only now wants to talk about it. She needs normalcy in her life. I don’t mean this in a wrong way but you and Ellie still live and act like you’re out there fighting to survive.” Now that riled up the older Miller. Sure he kept to himself spoke when only necessary to do his job then returned home to do it all over again but things were different now. Ellie and him had things that they never had out there and being here was their fresh start from everything that has happened to them.

“Tommy.” Joel looked at his brother hoping he would try to defuse the situation and maybe reconsider but he didn’t. “Did you even ask her? Do you really know her well enough to know what’s best for her?” He sounded spiteful a bite to his words.

“Stop it,” Tommy’s voice curt to his brother and his wife, “We just came here to tell you she’s going to be staying with us. Not fight over who knows her better. If she wishes to return to stay with you she’s more than welcome to.” It’s quiet between the three adults before Liam begins fusing and it’s too late for the baby to be out.

“Look you’re welcome to see her. We’re not keeping her away from you Joel but if you really think she’s better off with you. Put some goddamn effort in getting to know her instead of treating her like some stranger.” Tommy says before delivering his brother a pat on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting but only felt like a mockery. The family retreats back to their home as Joel closes the door a weight in his stomach as he stares at the woodgrain on the door.

“Joel?” Ellie’s voice makes him turn from where he stands to find Ellie standing in the living room. He was sure she heard their conversation but didn’t but in. “Is she not staying with us anymore?” Sadness laced her features and it only added more guilty weight to his gut. This wasn’t something he could give some hopeful response that things would be better but he truly didn’t know. You’re decision would be up to you and it may be his fault for not putting in an effort.

“I don’t know kiddo…I don’t know.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

@ashisabitgay @bobbypickl3 @christinamadsen @clovergray @cozyphine @daemontargaryenwhore @darthrue @daughterofthequeen @ellistyle @fictional-character-whore @gods-menace @kitdjarin1 @lorenaloveslewis @lovelyygirl8 @lunawants @maelartasch @marvelandhamilton @minaridior @oscarissac2099 @poetoflawed @queenofthekill @rhaenyramistress @scoliobean @stargurl99 @stickthegremlin @supernerdycookietrashblrr @todoroki-simp @ucannotcompare @wife-to-pedro-pascal @your-shifting-gurl

If your name is crossed out tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry :(

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x teen!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #ellie williams x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x reader #where the wild things are #where the wild things are series

[takadokii]

✴ what the heart wants !! ‧₊.࿐

summary You try to test your luck and have a vulnerable conversation with Satoru. But all he's thinking about is kissing you, and he doesn't understand the concept of crying anyway. pairing high school!gojo satoru x f!reader tags soft fluff, comfort, gojo doesn't know emotions (canon) warnings reader mentions that they cried last night, one nono word word count 810 links collection ; taglist

this is an additional chapter of my series "caught in the middle", if you enjoyed this, consider checking it out! 🩵

"When was the last time you cried?" 

The question caught Satoru off-guard. Sometimes, words would leave your mouth that would make him feel so small and stupid. He straightened his back, standing tense and tall. A million thoughts raced through his head about what could have possibly prompted you to ask such a silly question.

Did he look like he cried recently? Are you asking just out of pure curiosity? What made you think about that right now in the first place?

"I cried yesterday when you punched me, remember?"

You punch him again.

"Stop fooling around, you know what I mean...like really cry." You don't look at him when you say this. Trying to get Gojo's mood to match yours was about as easy as getting him to shut up for more than 5 minutes.

But tonight, you felt extra vulnerable for no apparent reason at all.

"I don't remember. It's been a while. I probably haven't cried since I was five." 

You hum in acknowledgement, your hand running up the material of the sweater you had worn that night, fingernails brushing against one of the larger loops in your knitted sweater.

And because it's Gojo, of course, this rare, vulnerable sentence must be followed up with a 3-minute monologue with the sole purpose of sucking his own dick.

"I mean... What would I even cry about? I'm pretty. I'm talented. I'm funny and smart. I have no reason to waste my tears. Tears of joy, maybe. Because I was born so pretty and smart and talented and-"

"I cried last night," you interrupted Gojo with a shrug. It was spoken with so little emotion like you were just throwing it out there. A quick, fun little life update as if you were telling him about a new show you started last night.

"...huh?!" Gojo was shocked. He was unable to process this information, as well as unsure what he was supposed to do now. Because, unbeknownst to you, in his eyes, you were just about as talented and intelligent and maybe even a little prettier than him, so this didn't make any sense.

"Why would you ever need to cry? Who made you cry?!" This sentence left his mouth in a way more harsh, belittling and "invalidating your problems" kind of tone than he had intended.

This was Gojo Satoru, after all, of course, the question is who, what else could there be but people that hurt people?

You, knowing he was just a spoiled, confused little child on the inside (and the outside), recognised his intention behind the sentence anyway and answered.

"I don't know...I just wanted to."

"Wanted to?" Gojo was beyond confused. Crying had become a distant concept to him a long time ago. Usually, whenever he felt overwhelmed or hurt, his emotions would skip sadness and instantly transform into annoyance or anger. But for you, it seemed freeing.

For Gojo, crying was a line that mustn't be crossed, a door unopened, its key buried in a drawer in the room he grew up in.

"It's okay to want to cry. Nothing to feel guilty about. The heart knows what it wants."

But for you, crying was something good, letting everything you had carried with you seep out, wipe it away with a tissue and let it dry out, long forgotten in the trash.

You had learned not to let it overflow or push yourself to test how much you can carry. Sometimes, you just felt weak, and everything else felt heavy, and you had accepted that.

Of course, Gojo Satoru wouldn't know what that's like. He had never felt weak in his life, and something inside of you told you that you wouldn't live to see many instances in which he would.

"I felt much better after," you elaborated, seeing him go through the mental turmoil you hoped to ease his mind, "I feel much better now."

Gojo doesn't understand. He understands so little he doesn't even know where he'd begin to attempt to understand.  

He's physically distraught by the confusion you had just set aflame in him.

"Well...if you ever cry again, you better not come to me because I am not at all emotionally capable of handling that."

You roll your eyes but grin nonetheless, nudging him with your shoulder before stepping closer and pressing yourself into him. Instinctively, Gojo raises his arm, letting you slip underneath as he places his hand on the sleeve of your sweater.

One of his fingers gets stuck in a loop, his eyes get stuck on your smile, and he tries hard not to kiss you right then and there.

Continuing to stare, a fluttery hot feeling formed in his chest, and he realised just how braver you were than him for giving in to what your heart wanted.

thanks for all the love on my latest one shot! :)

i hope the layout of my collection isn't too confusing, I'm working on making it more manageable and easy to understand!

i've put a lot of heart into this universe, the dynamic and my characters so I'm probably just thinking too far ahead.

i'm very happy i've started this and i can't wait for you all to see what i have in store!

love, jae 🩵

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo fanfiction #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jae writing !!‧₊.࿐ #🎴tales of the cursed !!‧₊.࿐ #🎴caught in the middle !!‧₊.࿐ #gojo satoru x oc #gojou satoru x oc #gojou satoru fanfic #gojou fanfic #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojou satoru fanfiction #gojou fanfiction #jjk oc #jujutsu kaisen x oc #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk x oc #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Warnings: contains angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, soft!dom/sub vibes, some drama, morally grey stuff. Maybe a bit of a filler chapter but necessary for the plot! I hope you enjoy.

While driving in his green Jaguar through the crowded streets of Downtown Manhattan, Loki tried to stay calm. The sunny weather didn't fit his mood. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and what had happened. He could still feel your kisses on his lips, your touches on his body, and he also couldn't forget the way you looked at him and how you made him feel. With your beguiling charm and your incredible art of seduction, you even made him submit to you. To show his submissive side was something he had never done that easily before. But when he finally decided to open up to you further and to give you not only his body but his heart too, you ran away, left him alone, leaving this letter for him. A letter full of heartache and pain, desperation and fear.

After you had this breakdown and cried in his arms, he hoped you'd open up to him as well and that you'd possibly tell him what made you feel so sad and hurt. He was wrong, maybe it was too soon and you two were not close enough to each other yet for such deep conversations. But he wanted you, he wanted you in his arms, in his heart and his life. And for that, he'd do anything so the most important thing was now to find you, no matter what. How was he supposed to not search for you when you were maybe in danger? Why didn't you ask him to help you? He would've given the money to you without hesitation, without demanding anything from you for this favour.

One day you will have forgotten me…

This sentence of yours echoed in his head. He could never forget you. Against all odds, you had grown to his heart, and he loved and craved you even more now. The blackmailing thing made him feel sick and drove him crazy. Who was doing this to you, his precious girl? He was so afraid that you could've left New York already before he got the chance to talk to you. He had so many questions.

Short time later, Loki arrived at the building where REA had its office and he left the car park with fast, long steps. He couldn't get fast enough to Rhea, not even knowing if she was already in the office because it was quite early in the morning. Loki pressed the doorbell and shortly after, the door opened and he entered the welcoming office. Light jazz and soul music and the smell of freshly brewed coffee conjured an incomparable and comfortable atmosphere. Everything in here was classy-modern and elegant but it didn't calm his nerves down. Inwardly he was scared and deeply worried but he wouldn't show it to anyone, especially not to Rhea, your boss. He was sure, according to your letter, she didn't know anything about the trouble you were in and he would never expose you to anyone.

“Good morning, Sir. How can I be of help?” Rhea greeted him kindly and offered her hand for a handshake, visibly impressed by the raven-haired, attractive man in black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket in front of her. Who could blame her? When he took his sunglasses off and looked at her with bright blue eyes she blushed but kept her professional attitude up.

“Good morning… Rhea, I guess?” Loki responded and took her offered hand in his.

“Yes, I'm Rhea. Mr.Larsson, right?” She asked him, her smile getting brighter when she recognised that he was much more handsome than in the photo she got from him some time ago.

“Yes, I'm Luke Larsson. I'm sorry for showing up that early in the morning and without an appointment but it's urgent and I need you to help me quickly and efficiently,” he explained.

“No worries, Sir. Please take a seat on the couch and let me know what I can do for you. Fancy a coffee?”

“No, thanks Rhea, I'm fine. I want to get straight to the point. It's about Miss Black.”

“I hope nothing happened between you two. If you're not happy anymore with her as your escort we will try to solve your problem,” Rhea took a seat next to Loki, facing him and raising her eyebrows. She was sure there hadn't been a problem between you two at all. She knew how much you liked him.

“No, I can assure you nothing happened. I appreciate Miss Black as my escort and I definitely don't want to book another of your surely lovely escort ladies. It's just that I need an appointment with her today. I know it's extremely spontaneous but… it's urgent, you know.” Loki still tried to stay calm and cool. He was sure Rhea would make it possible to fulfill his urgent request for your company.

“Let me have a look at Miss Black's schedule,” Rhea said, already knowing the answer. She stood up from the sofa and walked over to her desk, sat down on the chair and opened her laptop. Loki waited eagerly for her answer, nervously and subconsciously playing at his fingers. A habit he nearly had forgotten but he hadn't been that nervous for a very long time. You had brought out his soft side again. He had almost forgotten that he had a softer side. He had been alone for too long before he met you.

“I'm sorry, Mr.Larsson but Miss Black isn't available for the next two weeks,” Rhea told him. She just hoped Loki would take it easy and would be open for an appointment with one of her other escorts.

“What do you mean by that?” Loki's heart began to race. He must've gotten Rhea wrong.

“I mean what I said, Miss Black isn't available in the foreseeable future.”

“That's impossible. I need to see her!”

“Sir, I think you didn't get me right. It is impossible. Miss Black is unavailable.” Rhea stayed kindly but strictly.

“But I need to see her! If it's impossible, make it possible! I have an important event to attend and I need Miss Black to accompany me,” he answered with great emphasis. That he had to attend an event was a lie but of course, he couldn't tell Rhea the real reason why he needed to meet you promptly.

“Mr.Larsson, please… I can arrange an appointment with another excellent escort lady from my agency and I promise you you won't be disappointed. I'm certain we'll find the perfect lady for you,” Rhea assured him.

“I'm sure about that, Rhea but that's not the point. I just want to date Miss Black! Only her! Why isn't she available for the next two weeks? Did she get ill? Is she fully booked? Is she going to meet other… gentlemen and why didn't she tell me?” He knew he began to sound desperate. “Please, Rhea, tell me!” He was actually desperate, a fact that made him feel uneasy. He had never been this desperate because of a woman.

“Mr.Larsson, you must know that I won't tell you anything about the bookings, the whereabouts, or any other private things of my escort ladies. Please just accept that she's not bookable for the next two weeks.,” Rhea told him strictly.

“And I tell you to accept that I need to see her. Only her. Today. No matter what! I… because I… I have a soft spot for her, I really like her,” Loki stated and his last words were not much more than a whisper. He should better hold back all those feelings.

“Obviously,” Rhea muttered under her breath and suppressed a grin.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, frowning and trying to keep up the facade.

“Obviously, and I get that, Mr.Larsson. Miss Black is a wonderful and lovely woman,” Rhea confirmed.

“She is, indeed.” Loki took a deep breath before he continued. “So there's no chance to meet her?”

“No, Mr.Larsson. I'm genuinely sorry.”

“Could you please do me a favour then,” Loki said hesitantly, still hoping for Rhea's help even if it wasn't the kind of help he was looking for.

“Mr.Larsson, I'm asking you, please don't push it too far!”

“I'm not asking for any information. I'll pay Miss Black for the next two weeks,” Loki said, leaving no doubt that he was being serious.

“Mr.Larsson I'm not sure if you…” Loki jumped off the sofa and walked over to Rhea's desk.

“Listen, I don't want further information. I got it that she's not available… at least not for me. Regardless of whether she has appointments with other men or not, I pay for the next two weeks including the nights,” Loki interrupted her harshly.

“Mr.Larsson, please… it'll cost you a fortune and I'm not sure if Miss Black wants you to do this!” Rhea tried to intervene.

“I don't care about how much it costs me. I just care about her. Money doesn't matter, she matters. I ask you to cancel all of her appointments and to add my money to her bank account,” Loki stated demandingly. He couldn't know that you hadn't any appointment at all. He was used to always getting it his way so he was sure Rhea wouldn't discuss his plan with him further.

“Mr.Larsson, Miss Black isn't available and she's also not exclusively yours.” Rhea slowly got angry. At least it was none of her business but she wasn't sure if Loki was stalking you. She just wanted to guarantee your safety.

“Of course, she is! I pay for the time she would spend with me if she were bookable. I want her to meet me and me only. I won't discuss it with you any further!” Loki commanded. Just the tone of his voice was enough to command respect. His possessiveness and obsession with you got the better of him. Why didn't Rhea understand him? He just wanted to protect you and avoid you being forced to meet other men for money. How many men would you have to meet to earn that amount of money you needed for that damn blackmail? He could easily give the money to you but for some reason, you hadn't asked him for help and refused to take his money without working for it. He wanted to give it to you unconditionally and so he had no other choice than to do it this way. You would never have to meet other men again or worse, sleep with them. Men who didn't know how to treat you right, with decency and all the respect you deserved. The sheer thought of them touching you or worse, touching you intimately, drove him crazy and made him fume with anger. And besides this, you were his and his only. But he better stay calm. He wanted Rhea to cooperate with him and so he returned to a nicer tone.

“Rhea, please do me that favour. If you can't do it for me then do it for her. Please! She doesn't have to do anything about it. I won't ask for anything in return. I just want her to be safe.” Desperation overcame him again and he wished he could still hold you in his arms like he did last night. Damn, why didn't you stay and ask him for help? Why did you run away from him?

“That's pretty selfless, Mr.Larsson.”

“Call it what you want, I just care about her wellbeing. She doesn't belong… here,” and he let his gaze wander around the office and emphasized it with a sweeping motion of his arms. “She deserves a life of safety and happiness.”

“Exactly what everyone else here thinks,” Rhea muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Mr.Larsson. I'll do what you're wishing for. But I doubt Miss Black will be fond of it.” Rhea knew it was often fishy when it came to men wanting to pay lots of money for escorts or call girls and pretend not to want anything in return. She didn't think Loki was one of them but you never knew. She also sensed that he wouldn't give up that easily and that he was very serious when it came to you. There surely was more between you two than just the ‘escort-meets-client’ thing. She could see it in his gaze.

“Fond of what? Getting the money she needs without doing anything for it? I just don't want any other guy to lust for her or touch her. She deserves better. She deserves to be treated like a queen. I might not be the right man for her but if there's something I can do for her it's that. I just want to make it easier for her.”

“It seems, our lovely Miss Black has found her Prince on the white horse, the Knight in shining armour. It's a very noble gesture, Mr.Larsson, chivalrous even.”

“I'm anything but chivalrous, Rhea, believe me. I just want her to be okay,” Loki responded humbly. “So, could you please arrange an appointment with Miss Black in two weeks, as soon as she's bookable again?” Loki was well aware that he wouldn't get any further here with Rhea.

“Of course, Mr.Larsson. No issue.” Rhea told him the next free option to meet you. At least he now had the confirmation that you were still here, somewhere in New York.

“I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more help but…I'm just doing my job, Mr.Larsson.”

“It's okay, Rhea. I know and you're doing your job very well and conscientiously. I appreciate how you protect your escort ladies. Nonetheless, thank you for your time. Have a nice day, Rhea.” Loki could barely hide his disappointment. He had hoped for a different ending to this conversation. How could he have been that naive?

“Goodbye, Mr.Larsson and thank you for your understanding and cooperation. Let me know whenever I can do something for you or when you need an escort lady in the next two weeks,” Rhea said kindly. Loki nodded once, put his sunglasses on and left the office.

Back in his car, he angrily hit the steering wheel with his flat hands. “Damn it!” And tears welled up in his eyes. “Girl, where are you?” His question echoed against the windshield and stayed unanswered. Were you in actual danger? Were you scared? Were you crying? Did you miss him or had you already forgotten him? Did you care about him and how he felt after you vanished? Did you care at all? And by the way, he still wanted his scarf back. The thought made him huff and smile. And when you give it back to him he should tie you up with said scarf to his bed and fuck you properly and relentlessly until you'd promise him to never run away again. But before that, he would kiss the heck out of you and tell you how much you had scared him, how much he had missed you and how much he loves and adores you. He needed to search for you, immediately but he didn't even know where to begin. He would drive home and make a plan as to which places he should go to look for you. If you were still in New York he would find you.

**************************

You could barely keep your eyes open. The hour-long writing and staring at the screen of your laptop had exhausted you. Your back was achingly tensed up from sitting for hours at the table, writing your thesis. You tried to stay focused and to avoid too long breaks from studying. You were already behind schedule. The deadline would end soon and an extension of it would be impossible. Well, the day of payback and doom came closer and closer too but you pushed the thoughts of it away. You knew you couldn't do this forever, you had to face reality soon but for now, you didn't want to think about it. You'll find a solution to your problem. Soon, very soon but not now, not today.

You sighed heavily, ran your fingers through your tousled hair and buried your face in your hands. As soon as you closed your eyes, you saw him, Luke, or whatever his name was. Since you left him and his penthouse nearly a week ago you couldn't stop thinking about him. You permanently thought about his kindness, his warmth, his beauty, his tenderly demanding kisses, his skin on yours and how good he felt when he was inside of you. You missed him terribly. You didn't want to yet you did. Would he have slept with you if you hadn't asked him to do it? Possibly not. Luke was everything you ever wanted and you wished you would've met him under different circumstances.

Why couldn't you randomly have bumped into him on the streets of Manhattan? A meet-cute ending up in a café, followed by properly dating each other, would've been nice. Luke was attentive, mindful, kind, caring, affectionate, tender and incredibly erotic. The sex with him was so good and satisfying. He not only cared about his satisfaction, he cared about yours as well. Him, finger-fucking you in the limousine was the most erotic experience you've ever had so far, and not to talk about him allowing you to dominate him, later in his bedroom…and everything else afterwards. He truly saw you, he truly cared about you. He noticed and remembered everything you did, said or liked. The flowers he gave to you, the evening gown, the foot massage.

And he did all of this without even knowing you well. Luke had done everything Ralph had never done in five years. But Luke's affection, the blackmailing and your fucked up life scared you and it made you run away from him. He deserved better and not someone disgusting like you. The worst thing was you would never see Luke Larsson again. You had broken your rules, you had kissed him, a client and that was probably the most scary thing. Because breaking your rules has broken your heart… and his most likely, too. Something you didn't intend to happen, you never wanted to hurt him.

You were still denying it but you were into him. No, you were on the way to fall deeply in love with him. But you mustn't, you must forget him. He was your client and you had already gone too far with him. You were sure he would never forgive you and you hoped he had already forgotten you. You weren't any special or mattered, not at all, and certainly not to him. As much as it hurt, it was better this way.

You sighed again and tried to wipe away all those memories and visions of him. Running your fingers through your hair again, you stood up from your chair and stretched your stiff limbs. And Luke was still in your mind…and his scarf in the drawer of your dresser. You still had it. You shouldn't. You should've given it back to him already. You also shouldn't have lied to him. You didn't know how but he knew you were lying when you told him you hadn't found it on the floor of the hotel suite.

You just wanted to keep it, this little piece of silken fabric, a piece that belonged to him, a piece that gave you comfort and spread the scent of safety. His scent which you loved so much. You went straight to your dresser and took the scarf out of the drawer. You buried your nose into the silken fabric and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of him. You should better stop daydreaming and continue writing your thesis. You also should take a shower later, a cold one perhaps. You put the scarf back into the drawer, closed it and headed for the kitchen to prepare another mug of coffee. You turned some light jazz music on and continued working.

It was already 3 am when you went to bed after taking a hot shower. Cold water didn't help at all to wash him out of your system. You took Luke's scarf out of the drawer again, laid down on the bed and pulled your duvet up under your chin. You took a whiff and even though you were tired you felt arousal rise in you. You missed him and you missed his touch. Your fingers found your clit and you pleasured yourself gently but straight to a mind-numbing orgasm to get some stress relief, thinking of him.

On the other side of the Hudson, Loki laid on his bed and jerked himself fast and hard to a badly needed orgasm. He needed some relief from the pain he felt inside of him since you were gone and untraceable. His search for you in the last few days had been unsuccessful so far but you were always on his mind and tomorrow he'd continue to look for you. There were still some places he could search for you. You both didn't know that you pleasured yourselves at the same time, that you thought of each other and cried each other's names at the same time when your climaxes washed over you in the middle of the night. You were so close to each other yet so far away.

When you came down from your high you covered your eyes to keep the daylight out of your system as long as possible because the sun would rise soon. But instead of using your sleeping mask, you used Luke's scarf, covered your eyes with it and tied the two ends comfortably at the back of your head. You dropped your head in the cuddly pillow and a sigh escaped your mouth, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I miss you, Luke… and I love you,” you whispered tiredly. In the warmth of your duvet, engulfed by the quietly playing jazz music from your sound system and by the scent of his cologne, sleep finally took you.

Loki was about to fall asleep when he thought he had heard your tired voice, telling him that you missed and loved him. He knew he was just imagining it hence he hoped that you would at least come to him in his dreams.

The next morning, you were already sitting in front of your laptop again, your phone blinked and vibrated next to you on the table. You were knee-deep in writing your thesis and you weren't in the mood to answer any calls, not to talk about that you didn't have any time for it. You saw Rhea's name popping up on the display and you decided to answer the call.

“Hey, Rhea. What's up?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry for disturbing you but… we have an issue,” Rhea explained.

“An issue? What happened?” You were curious about what she had to tell you and at the same time, you felt some anxiety arising in your gut. Did she want to sack you? That would be a catastrophe. Did Luke tell her what had happened between you two, that he was mad at you especially because of the letter you had written for him? Was it about him at all?

“It's about Mr.Larsson, dear.” Rhea sounded serious. The tight feeling in your stomach got worse.

“Mr.Larsson?”

“Yes, dear. I already waited for too long to tell you about it. Please come to the office if you can. It's urgent but I don't want to tell you about it on the phone,” she said, her tone slightly concerned.

“Okay, give me thirty minutes,” you answered, uncertain about how this meeting would end for you.

“Fine, I'll be here, waiting for you,” and you both ended the call.

“He did what? I don't understand. Who does he think he is? How DARE he? Guess I should be flattered,” you stated angrily thirty minutes later when you sat at Rhea's desk. But if you were being honest you also appreciated his concerns.

“Yeah, he doesn't want you to meet other men anymore. I suppose he cares about you, a lot.” Rhea had told you everything about her conversation with Loki and also apologized that she had waited for so long to tell you about it and that she hadn't sent you the money yet. She had been uncertain what to do with all the money Loki had already sent to her bank account to send it further to yours. She didn't want to do anything wrong and wanted to talk with you about it so she left the money untouched.

“Dear, we both know you don't belong here. You should take his offer. I'm sure he just wants to help,” Rhea tried to convince you.

“No! I won't take his money. It feels like he would buy me,” and you jumped off of the chair in front of Rhea's desk. “I know that I'm kind of a whore but… it's my decision, you know. I decide to meet a man or not. I decide which guy's money I take and how much. Does he really think if he offers the biggest amount of money he can own me and tell me what to do?” You were furious and walked up and down in the office. “I won't accept that!”

“I don't think he wants to buy or own you. I'm sure if you would tell him why and for what you need so much money he would give it to you without hesitation. That guy has feelings for you, you've grown on him and it seems…”

“Nonsense! And he knows, Rhea. I told him. No details, but he knows,” you interrupted her.

“Even better!” Rhea cheered. “And he still wants to help you! I know something is going on between you two and that something has happened. I don't want to know any details but this man is desperate and you should talk to him. He urgently wanted to meet you for a reason and I'm pretty sure you know what reason it is. Sorry, y/n but I really don't get why you are refusing his help.”

“Because I'm sure… no… I know one fine day he wants something in return. Everything in life has its price, Rhea. Life gives you nothing!” A single angry tear escaped your eye.

“I'm not sure about that, dear. Luke Larsson might be your way out of this business, out of your misery. We both know you don't belong here, desperation brought you here, to my agency, to my office. I'd be very sorry to lose you as my escort lady and I'd love to stay your friend but you should take this chance,” Rhea tried to convince you.

“No! I don't need a savior and I don't need love or care. I need money, lots of money… you have no idea,” you answered strictly.

“Then take his money, for heaven's sake! If you need the feeling of having worked for it try to imagine you'd meet him every day including the nights without actually meeting him. It's not that difficult. Your pride and stubbornness won't help you out of your bad situation, y/n.”

“Enough! End of discussion, Rhea. I can't and I won't take his money without working for it. I just can't do it. I never want to be owned by a man again, certainly not. I don't want to depend on a man’s mercy ever again. And the day will come when he demands a kind of payback, a kind of reparation. I refuse his offer, and you Rhea give him his money back. I don't want it. And also I want you to cancel my appointment with him, I don't want to meet him ever again. I leave now, I've a lot of work to do,” your tone dripping with anger and desperation. “Bye Rhea, see you next week when I'll have finished my exams,” you murmured sadly.

“Of course, dear. I'll send him his money back if this is what you want. I hope everything turns out well for you. Bye, dearest,” Rhea said and you hurriedly left the office without a further word. Rhea felt bad for you. She understood your motifs but she wished you would've accepted Luke's try to help you because it seemed this man genuinely cared about you. Of course, she accepted your wish and sent the money back with the note ‘acceptance denied’.

You wanted to laugh and to cry all at once. Why couldn't he just forget you like you had asked him for in your letter? And on the other hand, you felt wanted and cared for if it was true what Rhea had told you. Was he really desperate to find and meet you? Not that it would change anything. You had cut the wire and there was no comeback now.

You were still too upset to continue working on your thesis and so you walked aimlessly on the crowded sidewalks of the Manhattan streets. About an hour later you stood in front of the New York Public Library and immediately you thought about the conversation you had with Gabby about the Avengers and the Invasion of New York. Shortly after your last night with Luke, you couldn't resist finding out more about the incident and him.

To your astonishment, there was nothing much to find on the Internet and it seemed photos and articles from twelve years ago had been removed from the websites. Normally you wouldn't care about it but somehow you wanted to know who Luke was and what he had to do with the Avengers, the Invasion, and the avoided total destruction of New York City. You should be able to get access to old newspapers from that time and you also may find photos of him. And maybe you would find out his real name. It wouldn't change the fact that you'd never see him again but you wanted to know whom you had kissed and slept with, to whom you had given your heart.

You sat at a desk in the library, scrolling through several articles in the newspapers from twelve years ago. It took some time until you found the articles about the incident. There were short ones, side-long ones but no photo so far with all the Avengers in it. Mostly there were photos of a certain Tony Stark because his building was somehow involved in this so you scrolled further on the screen. And then, you had found it, a photo that involved all of them. In the photo, you also saw the three men you had dated: Steve Rogers, the fantastic dancer. Scott Lang, the guy who made you laugh the whole evening. Bruce Banner, with whom you had one of the best conversations and who invited you to a delicious dessert.

You scrolled further through the article and then you found it. The photo you were looking for. A photo of a handsome raven-haired man, incredibly attractive and with piercing blue eyes. The man you had dated, had sex with, and finally had kissed. You found his name written under the picture. Your friend was right. His name wasn't Luke Larsson. His name was Loki Laufeyson.

*************************

Loki was weary and worn. Day after day he has searched for you without any success, without any hint of where you could be. He had searched for you everywhere, he visited every place he had been with you, he looked for you in every cafe, bar, bistro, restaurant, gallery, museum, and park, he went several times to Vivian's Velvet, he even visited every bookstore or grocery store. Nothing. It seemed you had vanished from the face of the earth. Maybe it would've been easier if he would know your real name but without that, it was nearly impossible to find you.

Also, you refused to accept his money. He was disappointed and it kind of hurt him when he saw the money had been credited to his bank account again with the note ‘acceptance denied’. You neither wanted his money nor wanted to be found. But he wouldn't give up on you. Not yet and most likely never. Nonetheless today he would go to Vivian's Velvet for one last time. His very last try to find you.

Cast down, he took a seat at the bar and ordered a whisky. Today he just wanted to get drunk and he drank his whisky in one big gulp. “Another, please,” he asked the barkeeper, who placed a further whisky in front of Loki. This one he also gulped down in one swift sip. “Another!” He growled darkly and the barkeeper refilled Loki's tumbler. Why didn't the alcohol help to wash this dull ache and the sadness away? It had always worked in the past when he took a bath and had a glass of wine and never thought about his lost love interests again. Why didn't it work this time? He emptied his whisky quickly and ordered another one.

“Hello, handsome. Shouldn't you slow down a bit?” An attractive, tall, red-haired woman addressed Loki and took a seat on the bar stool next to him, temptingly crossing her long, black nylon-dressed legs. Her short black leather dress showed more of her bodily features than it covered.

“Mind your own business, my Lady. My drinks are none of your concerns,” Loki stated, annoyed without looking at her and took a sip of his next whisky. He didn't want to be rude but he wasn't in the mood for a conversation or flirting.

“Does it hurt that much? What is it you're trying to numb so desperately? Want me to distract you, pretty one? Want to play with me?” she offered him, her voice soft like velvet and her fingers trailed gently over his forearm up to his bicep. Loki immediately grabbed her hand and stopped her from touching him.

“Don't! I appreciate your tempting offer and you're a really pretty woman but I'm not interested, thank you,” Loki informed her, looking sternly at her. She withdrew her hand from his grip and smiled at him.

“I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to be pushy. I just thought I could help you to forget some of your… grief.”

“That's very kind of you but nothing and nobody can help me to forget, I guess.” Loki swirled the whisky in his glass, staring absent-mindedly at the golden-brown liquid.

“That bad?” She asked cautiously.

“Yeah, it's that bad,” Loki swallowed the entire contents of his tumbler. With the emptied glass he gestured to the barkeeper to refill it and turned his head towards the woman next to him.

“Can I get you something? What would you like to drink? Champagne, a cocktail or something else?”

“Champagne would be nice,” she answered sweetly. “Is she nice?” She wanted to know.

“Who? What do you mean?” Loki asked, irritated and playing with the whisky tumbler in his hands.

“The woman you try to forget,” she responded smilingly.

“How do you know I'm trying to forget a woman,” Loki responded, looking quizzically at her.

“Because men try to drown their pain and lovesickness in lots of alcohol and mostly they're having casual sex with a Callgirl too. That's why many of them are coming here to Vivian's,” she explained knowingly.

“I'm not one of them. I came here a few times to look for her and we had our first date here. She's gorgeous. Over time we became closer to each other and then she vanished. And now I'm looking for her but without success,” Loki told her and emptied his whisky glass.

“So she's one of us?” She wanted to know.

“Kind of. She is… was my escort lady.”

“An escort? Maybe I know her… what's her name?” She asked him.

“Yeah! Yeah, maybe you do!” Hope arose in Loki again. “Her name is Sugar,” and Loki was sure she'd know promptly who he meant. But her answer crushed his hope.

“Sugar, you say?” She contemplated for a moment before she answered him. “No, I'm sorry, I've never met an escort here named Sugar.”

Loki nodded sadly and gave her a description of your appearance when he suddenly remembered a little something.

“Do you possibly know an escort lady named Candy?” He asked her excitedly. It was the last glimmer of hope.

“Candy? Yes, of course, I remember her. She's lovely but I haven't seen her for weeks now. Maybe she quit, I don't know. We were never close, you know.” Loki's hope died instantly and he took a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He slowly believed the universe didn't want him to see you ever again.

“What a lucky girl she is. I wish such a great guy like you would love me like that and look for me like you are looking for her. But I'm sorry, handsome, I think I can't help you. You need to continue searching for her, I guess.” She genuinely pitied him. He was truly sad and desperate and obviously in love.

“And yet she ran away,” Loki murmured. “No worries, it's alright. I won't stop searching for her but I don't want to keep my hopes up too high, you know. But I appreciate you're trying to help me,” Loki continued but could barely hide his disappointment.

“No issue. I'm sure you'll find her. Love always finds a way. Heads up, handsome,” she said, trying to rebuild his confidence.

“I just hope you're right,” was the only thing Loki could answer.

“Thank you for the champagne, I'll leave now. And hey, don't give up on her. I'm sure she is waiting for you. You're a very decent man… coming here frustrated and love-sick and refusing a good fuck… if this isn't fidelity and love then I don't know what is. Good luck, pretty boy” she said kindly, smiled at him, hopped off the bar stool, and went away. She was looking for a man to spend a night in bed with and maybe she would fall in love with one of her clients too but she knew Loki wouldn't be the one. This place in his mind, in his heart, and in his bed was already taken.

It was in the early morning hours when Loki decided to finally go home when he saw a black limousine in the car park right in front of Vivian's Velvet. He was instantly sober. Walker casually leaned against the vehicle, a coffee from a takeaway in his hand. He had had a long night after his two-week vacation but now his shift was over and he would drive home soon. Loki and Walker never crossed their paths in the last few days or nights but it seemed it was meant to be that Loki was meeting him now. Not Vivian's was his last hope, Walker was and Loki was well aware that only Walker could help him to find you. It wouldn't be easy to break his secrecy. But he wanted to give it a try. If this wouldn't work, nothing would.

“Good morning, Walker. Hope you're fine. Do you remember me?” Loki greeted him.

“Good morning, Mr.Larsson. Of course, I remember you, Sir. I hope you're doing well, too,” Walker replied, unsure what Loki might want from him.

“Haven't seen you for a while,” Loki continued. Walker took a sip of his coffee and stared emotionlessly at Loki over the rim of his mug. Walker was cautious with every suitor of the escort ladies he was responsible for.

“I don't want to beat around the bush. I need your help, Walker and it's urgent,” Loki told him, with sadness in his voice. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos and waited for Walker's reaction.

“What kind of help, Sir?” Walker grumbled, raising his eyebrows. He didn't trust a suitor, least of all the pretty ones.

“Sugar. I need to find her and it's urgent. I have looked everywhere for her, days and nights for the nearly last two weeks and I can't find her. Please, Walker, I need you to help me,” Loki asked him desperately.

“What makes you think I could help you, Mr.Larsson?” Walker questioned him dismissively.

“You know where she lives, you always drive her home after her dates. Walker, please bring me to her, I really need to talk to her. I need to see her,” Loki responded firmly, gesticulating with his hands to emphasize his request. Walker's answer was a deep, wholehearted laughter.

“And why should I do that, Sir? Do you really think I'd drive suitors to the escorts’ homes? I'm sorry, Mr.Larsson but this is really ridiculous.”

Loki rolled his eyes annoyed and bit lightly into his lower lip, placing his hands on his hips.

“I genuinely appreciate your discretion Walker and I'm glad that you take your job that seriously but you quite don't understand the urgency of this matter…I. Need. To. See. Sugar. Please!”

“No! I won't bring you to her home. I'll protect the ladies and nothing will change that. Not even a filthy rich guy like you!” Walker grumbled darkly. He would protect the escorts at all costs, especially you because he had a soft spot for you.

Loki walked towards him until their noses were almost touching. They gave each other a death stare and if looks could kill both would die instantly.

“Bring me to her,” Loki demanded insistently.

“No!”

“You'll bring me to her, Walker! Don't make me force you!” Loki's anger was growing fast but it was the anger of a man who was desperate to find his beloved girl.

“No!” Walker didn't give in. He couldn't know that he would lose any kind of fight against Loki but he would defend your privacy until his very end.

“Damn Walker, she's in danger, she needs help, urgently! So get up your ass and bring me to her!” Loki was upset but of course, he didn't want to hurt Walker physically, it wouldn't help anyone. But something in Walker cracked. He frowned and Loki took one step backwards.

“In danger? Why should I believe you?” Walker asked curiously. He was genuinely concerned now.

“Because it's the truth and you need to trust me.”

“I never trust a suitor. Sugar always spoke highly of you but it's my golden rule to never trust the men who book an escort lady.” Walker explained vehemently.

“She spoke to you about me?” Loki wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad sign.

“She just answered my concerned questions, nothing more but she was always fond of you. So, tell me, why should I believe or trust you? Maybe you're just telling fuckin’ lies to get to her.”

“In the last night we spent together we came very close to each other, not only physically but emotionally too. She stayed for a reason the whole night, you should remember that night and you got well paid for it that you waited until the next morning for her.” Walker remembered that night very well because it was something that didn't happen very often.

“She left without a word when I was still sleeping and the only thing she left for me was a letter, in which she told me mostly everything about her,” Loki continued.”She's in danger, Walker. Someone is blackmailing her. She needs my help. Please, Walker, we're on the same side, we both love her, each his own way, and we both want to protect her. Walker, I'm begging you, bring me to her!” Why the hell was this man so stubborn?

“Do you have any witness of what you're telling me?” Walker was still wary towards Loki but his concerns for you grew. What if he told the truth?

Loki pulled your letter out of the inner pocket of his jacket, unfolded it and showed it to Walker. He didn't give it to him because its contents were too private and just meant for him and it was the only thing he had from you besides the thong he had stolen from you when he pleasured you on the backseat of the limousine which stood right in front of him now. He carried your letter always with him like a treasure. He just wanted Walker to see it and prove to him that he wasn't lying.

“She wrote it in this letter. I told you the truth. Please help me, Walker.” Loki begged him quietly, tears brimming in his eyes. Walker frowned and rounded the limousine.

“Get into the car, Mr.Larsson. I'll take you to her!” That was what Loki wanted to hear.

“Thank you, Walker. I owe you.” A big smile appeared on Loki's face. He put your letter back into his pocket again and he quickly jumped into the car.

The sun was shining brightly this morning. Not only in the sky but also in Loki's heart. He put his sunglasses on and not much later, Walker parked the limousine in front of the building you were living in.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹❤️‍🩹🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @gruftiela @anukulee @fandxmslxt69 @foxherder @depressedpolishgirl @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices14 @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader angst #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader fluff #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader au #Spotify

[quarantineddreamer]

✨ B's RebelCaptain Rec List ✨

Apologies in advance as I have NO DOUBT that I missed including some very talented individuals and their works in this list. (This is by no means comprehensive.)

I haven't been here all that long, but wow--since day one I've been blown away by the talent in this fandom and the dedication of all the creators.

So, thank you lovely souls for sharing your beautiful art (in all its many forms) for us to enjoy--and thank you RC community as a whole for being so lovely and welcoming this past year! I am truly grateful to be screaming/crying/rewriting canon with you 💖

Give Up the Ghost by @frostbitepandaaaaa

I mean...what can I say? I love all of Frost's writing, but this was the first work I ever read of hers and it is devastating and gorgeous and will make you lose your mind. I remember the first time I read it just...lingering on certain sentences because I was in awe of how beautiful they were. Just read it. Trust me. (And then check out her WIP 12 Days afterwards!)

threshold by @astromechs

Another writer whose works I love. (Okay, that's pretty much everyone on this list--the RC fandom is so frickin talented). But for me, this fic in particular stands out as one that gives incredible insight into Cassian's character--and an adorable story overall. Heartfelt and beautiful.

built on hope by @luciechat

I am particularly obsessed with chapter 3 of this collection of prompt-writes Getting Back Together (in the Cold). Lucie paints the picture so clearly and the tension throughout is delicious. Highly recommend reading this RC Hoth fic--and Lucie's other amazing works!

we were never going to make it by @fulcrumstardust

Okay off the bat: be mindful of the tags! This was a whumptober fic and it is BIG SAD. But it is also so, so beautiful. The emotion woven throughout cuts to the bone and as painful as it was, the premise of the story was very well executed. (And if you're looking for a lighter read--maybe a spicy one--Moria's one-shot SOLAR STORM has such an incredible setup. The sexual tension is so well done.)

The RebelCaptain Romance Collection by @agentjackdaniels

I couldn't choose just one from this collection! Luce writes the softest, sweetest, fluffiest stories for RC that you will ever read. (Which makes perfect sense if you're lucky enough to get to know her because Luce is such a genuine, sweet soul.) These fics are like a warm-hug for the soul--just what you need after watching Rouge One.

the things you said by @gaygingersnaps

Again: I am not usually one for Modern AUs but I think the RC fandom is changing me and the first I ever read was Eli's amazing fic. I am obsessed with how Eli writes Jyn's internal dialogue. It's so in character and sharp and will make you smile and shake your head and go "Oh, Jyn!" This collection of stories is idiots-in-love like nothing else and you will fall in love with the world Eli has so thoughtfully crafted for a modern-day RC.

objection, your honor by @andorerso

I'm not usually one for modern AUs, but this fic is just so much fun. The banter between Cass and Jyn is so in character and so sharp and witty and the whole time I was reading I had a grin on my face. (These two idiots.) I love all the little details Sissi considers in this AU (Chewie being the dog for example), but that's no surprise! She is the queen of AUs!

Tethered (to the Story We Must Tell) by @dilf-din

I just absolutely loved the setup for this fic. Jess manages to fit these characters into a magical world so seamlessly by embedding the most incredible details from the Star Wars universe. (I was obsessed with the "stormtroopers".) Jess's writing is so smooth and rich and will immediately grab your attention.

Coping Mechanisms by @mosylufanfic

I think this was the first fic I ever read of mosylu's! I love the way she writes Jyn--always perfectly in character, strong and sassy. But in this fic in particular, I love the softness she brings to Jyn in how she cares for Cassian. I found it to be a very beautiful, healing read. (But if you're looking for something a bit longer or more upbeat! I mean, take your pick. Mosylu is another author who is amazing at AUs and her works are always such fun reads.)

RC Proposal by @ninsletamain

I could have put any of nins' pieces down as a rec. (Like seriously go scroll her feed she's insanely talented and her work blows my mind everytime without fail). But I chose this one because it is just so rich and full of detail, I love the story it tells, and you cannot help but smile whenever you look at it.

Claw Machine by @winterdruid

Definitely an all-time favorite for me. I remember making a joke about claw-machine as a first date when I was doing a RO rewatch with some friends and then this masterpiece showed up on my feed and my jaw dropped?! It's so fun and cute and well-done and I reblog it every time I see it soooo.

Seashore (for RC Fluffbruary) by @adeptnenyim

I love the scenery, their poses, their expressions, the quote?! Ahhh all of it! Nen's art is so soft and special and gives me all the feels and this one is no exception.

BTS of RO Inspired by @art-question-mark

I have always loved the picture this piece is based off of. In my head, it is happy Jyn and Cass. In my head, it is canon. Natalie's style is so beautiful and I love some of the quotes Natalie pulls from the Rogue One novel to go with the art!

Pretty Cute by @muguathepapaya

This piece is super cute and exactly what they deserved. I'm obsessed. Gives me all the warm and fuzzies. Sunshine on a rainy day, so gorgeous.

Time to Wake Up by @eegnm

Okay are you noticing the theme yet? I love seeing these two happy, and this scene in particular is just so...warm. I love the cuddly vibes, their expressions, all of it. You can feel the love in it.

losers by @necr0mancers

I am obsessed with the look they are exchanging. Very conspiratorial and so true to them. I also just love the style of this artists' works and the sense of humor woven through many of their pieces.

Elevator Scene by @satmolly

Nope I actually do not have words for this one. I think it says enough. (This happened, and it happened just like this and it is so very beautiful).

Favorite Scene (beach) by @dramaticmusicplaying

Another one that leaves me speechless. (Okay, they ALL do I feel like I am not doing these artists justice I'M SORRY). I just think this piece captures the beach perfectly and I love the style and all the colors and I kinda need to cry after looking at it okay?!

Jyn/Cassian Smooch by @barrikae

I am totally obsessed with this artist's style and this image in particular is just: ahhhhh! You know? Like look at themmmmm. Thank you for this barrikae.

Space Travel by @freebooter4ever

Your honor, they are holding hands and they are so very sleepy and I am so very in love with this piece. I love the artist's style and again, amazing scene set. Lives rent free in my mind.

Tagging creators for this one vs specific sets (cause you CANNOT make me choose honestly) and linking this post I wrote awhile back about how incredible I think you all are! (As in: I specifically had RC creators in mind when I wrote that post.)

*This is the list I am most nervous about cause I am almost certain I am forgetting people so if you see this and you make gifs for RC please know I love you and your work <3

@bartowskis

@staticwaffles

@jyndor

@andorerso

@jemmasimmons

@sydneyadmu

@garethsedwards

@gizkalord

@kalikoris

@dailyrebelcaptain

@therebelcaptainnetwork

#dailyrebelcaptain #drcvalentinescelebration #rebelcaptain recs #and yup! im late with this 😅 it took me probably 6 hours to pull this together and i think i could have spent 6 hours more but #my wrist is starting to give me grief unfortunately #so here goes nothing #(i am super nervous to post this for some reason!) #3..2..1..go

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iii

plots are half revealed, and willy "mr accidentally steal yo girl" wonka gets his sorry ass saved by a woman wearing one of those "oh no my husband mysteriously floated away died" robes you see all over pinterest. (now there's a sentence i never thought i'd write.)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

i would like to thank mr mathew baynton in that one bts interview for those bits and pieces of fickelgruber analysis that will totally now be used here. and also for being generally wonderful. thanks mat ilysm

also i thought it would be sort of funny for at least someone in this world revolving around chocolate to be lactose intolerant and then of course i had to turn it into something sad and poetic bc of Who I Am As A Person

enjoy!! and thank you for all the support on this fic so far!!

part two fic masterlist part four

She had a lot to think about that night.

Felix hadn’t returned home yet, and she started to worry that the fateful flying chocolates weren’t quite as harmless as advertised. The young man who’d made them, too, was swirling about her mind in a haze of schoolgirl blushes and piercing guilt.

Florence Fickelgruber had chosen her lot when she agreed to take on that name. Who was she to imagine a freer life, one of candy-coated dreams and a clear conscience, of gazes and banter with someone her own age, of running her hand through curls that weren’t slick with expensive gel? Who was she to foolishly wish for anything different, when so many people were counting on her?

She missed her home, her family, and it hadn’t been lost on her that Felix had never told her about his own background. Their wedding was attended mainly by those surrounding the Fickelgruber business, as well as another flood of press. She’d had to blink so much that day, unused to being in front of cameras after a youth spent on the stage, but her new husband had preened next to her as if this focus on appearance was where he felt most at home. She remembered the crowd’s polite cheers fading in her mind as he had slowly lifted her chin while she accepted a forkful of the most extraordinarily decadent chocolate cake.

For that day, she had allowed the feeling of his hand on her face to eclipse that of the too-rich frosting stuck in her throat.

Then he came through the door, humming a jaunty tune, and she blinked, torn out of the memory that she felt an entirely different kind of guilt for indulging in.

“Felix? Darling, where have you been?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty auburn head, my songbird. The boy’s finished, absolutely finished. No one will be flying about the Galeries Gourmet if the police have anything to say about it.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“He’s disturbed the peace, made a commotion, even encouraged the-the-the unfortunate to disgrace our sacred sanctuary of chocolate. And the Chief is none too happy about it.”

“Is he?” she said suspiciously, stepping in front of him-because, up until this point, he hadn’t looked her in the eye.

Felix was silent for a moment, cacao eyes darting. His wife’s gaze was strong and unyielding-don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it-but her head tilted innocently to the side, a sort of plausible deniability.

A sort of protection.

“Yes,” he breathed with a curt nod, and took her hands in his. “I promise you, it was a solemn thing.”

“Then what were you singing as you came in?”

The chocolatier blinked again, falling into an absolutely done sort of expression, and Florence’s head tilted to the other side.

“You’ve had another musical number without me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, pet.”

“You know you can’t hide from me, Felix,” she said, something that would have been playfully teasing but held an edge of desperation that he refused to pick up on.

“It of course wasn’t the same without you,” he drawled in that ever-dramatic way, bringing her into their living room. “We’ll make it up now. Dance with me, Florence.”

He snapped his fingers, and some unseen yet attentive servant placed a needle on a record. A crooning melody started to crackle and bounce across the high golden ceilings, and Felix spun his wife into him, twirling her about with a smirk that she could only imagine to be the result of a monopoly saved.

She swayed to and fro in his arms, trying desperately to sink into the music, unable to focus on anything but the wrenching pull of her battling guilts.

~

Florence spent much of the next day in a state of ping-ponging worry. She’d looked intently out of the mansion’s sprawling windows over the town square, wondering whether her forbidden new friend had taken her advice.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

And who knows what they’ll do to him now?

The hours had passed in a blur, and then she was laid limp, unable to sleep, and mentally exhausted, next to her husband and his piccolo snore.

She had screwed her eyes shut and burrowed into him, trying to force herself to feel as secure as she did two years ago; then, the slight sound of a little girl’s singing voice lifted itself into her consciousness, followed by the blare of a police car.

Puzzled, Florence carefully got out of bed and went to the window once more. The girl she’d heard was the one with the sweet smile that she’d seen in the Galeria yesterday, and Willy Wonka was next to her, warning her to run. The Chief of Police and Officer Affable faced them, but this wasn’t to last-the former seemed to tell the latter to leave, and the latter obeyed.

It wasn’t as if a switch flipped at that moment.

More like…

An extinguished candle was finally relit.

Before she could overthink herself into inaction, Wren was grabbing her robe and slippers and bolting downstairs, the snore that echoed after her serving as reassurance that she wouldn’t be found out. In her haste, she had the passing realization that this would be the first time she’d leave the house with her hair down and uncoiffed in over two years.

Through this rush, she heard the plunge of something in the town square’s fountain along with the shouts of the Chief, and she ran faster, throwing open the door just in time to see him about to club a drenched Willy over the head.

“OFFICER!”

Both men turned to her in an instant. She let out the breath she’d been holding since first hearing the girl’s voice, rolled her shoulders back, dropped into the character she’d played for the past two years, and stepped forward.

“What on earth is going on?”

They stared, each with a different kind of shock, as she walked toward the fountain. The Chief returned his nightstick to its holster.

“Mrs. Fickelgruber,” he stammered, “I thought you would have thought-well, I guess he didn’t tell-you aren’t-”

“No, I’m not thrilled about you clobbering this poor young man in the middle of the night,” she said, placing a hand on Willy’s shoulder. He looked at her, still touched with the fear of the past minutes but now grateful, and she tried not to be struck by the freckles she saw behind his water-plastered curls.

“Who said anything about clobbering?” the Chief laughed somewhat nervously. “We were just having a chat. An impactful, memorable chat. Right, Mr. Wonka?”

Willy dragged his eyes to him and held them there, a bit speechless.

What was probably three seconds but felt like an eternity of strange silence passed.

“Memorable indeed.”

“Right, then,” the Chief said. “You’ll do good to continue to remember it. Goodnight, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

With that, he entered his car and drove away, his tail lights fading in the distance as the remaining pair stood, a little shell-shocked, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said after a while, his gaze still trailing the receding police car.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving his shoulder an awkward pat, which made her realize just how cold he was due to the impromptu fountain bath. “Oh, God, you’re freezing. Let me…”

As he turned towards her, she looked up, trying to see through her window in the dark. She could barely make out the shape of a sound-asleep Felix, still in bed.

���Come to the office, I’ve got the key. There’s a fireplace there; you can stay as long as you need to to warm up.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes moved up the same way, then back to her, and she shook her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course.”

~

“Do you want anything to drink? Water, tea? Hot chocolate?”

She hadn’t turned on most of the lights so as not to draw attention, but she’d started a beautiful fire, which Willy sat by in a plush emerald-green chair. She’d rattled off the drinks on habit, but she turned to him upon saying the third, sharing his smile.

“The last one, please. But I’ll make it.”

“No, you need to rest-”

“I insist,” he said, moving to join her by the small bar in the office and searching through ingredients. “Unless that’s some sort of corporate sacrilege.”

“Making chocolate in enemy territory?”

He took a small jar of powder from his sleeve and shook it into two mugs, considering this, and his smile faltered a bit.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “That they’d…that they’d send the police after me? That business rivalry is thought of like a war?”

She pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.

“They…feel threatened,” she said slowly, “and, despite how professional they seem, they can’t be mature or rational about it. Apparently, you really do have the best chocolate in town.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, but gave half of a smile as he looked down at the drinks he was stirring.

“And I, for one, am quite looking forward to trying it.”

“Here, then,” he said, pulling something out of a coat pocket that had managed to escape the frozen flush. “Nothing too dangerous about this one. Just some good old Wonka magic.”

He opened his hand to her, revealing a small, wrapped treat, and she sighed.

“I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t. Not even the drinks.”

“Why not?” came the stunned reply, and she nearly laughed at just how sweetly scandalized the boy seemed to be at the idea of anyone denying themselves that pleasure.

“Milk has never really…agreed with me. Bad for the throat, and I’m a singer besides, as you know-I mean, I-well, it’s just…”

PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

“I shouldn’t.”

He took a moment, and she watched his eyes widen as he processed the shocking injustice of being genetically predisposed against chocolate.

“Does your husband know about this?”

“He does, but he doesn’t care. Says I’ll ‘grow out of it with time’, which I haven’t.”

“So he’s…”

“Essentially poisoning me, yes.”

They laughed a little, because, surrounded by echoes of Fickelgruber’s power, it was the only thing they could do.

Willy stared at the table for a moment, then pulled another vial, this one containing a liquid, from yet another pocket.

“Lucky for you, then, I’ve got milk made from the product of the finest almond trees on the islands of Seychelles,” he said as he deftly poured the liquid into her glass. “Guaranteed to go down sweetly, both on the taste buds and after.”

“...Thank you,” she murmured, touched by the gesture.

With a final flick of the wrist, he deemed the hot chocolate finished, and they each carried their mug to the fire.

“Wren,” he said thoughtfully as they sat down.

“Hm?”

She was instinctively flooded with warmth in the same way she was yesterday, though whether it was due to the stunningly perfect cocoa or hearing her name in his voice she wasn’t sure.

“Is it a nickname? Songbird, right?”

She saw in the fireglow that his face darkened a bit upon the memory of how Felix had always referred to her in the press, taking that potentially sweet title and spinning it in an almost dehumanizing manner. So someone did notice.

“Well…sort of. That was what my parents intended. They say a wren sang when I was born, so they gave me that name, and I loved it. But Felix assumed it was a nickname and suggested I should expand it; to sound more sophisticated in my performances, he said, but I knew half the reason was to fit with the alliteration. He’s always valued aesthetics above anything else.”

They were silent for a while, and the massive painting seemed to stare down at them, making the Fickelgrubers look almost menacing in the fireglow.

“That’s you?”

A moment passed.

“No. No, that’s not really me.”

Her voice was quiet, but decisive. Willy looked at her, really looked at her, and she felt more seen than she had in years.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Hm?”

His head tilted to the side, a little stunned, and she nearly giggled as his now-drying curls flopped in front of his face.

How could anyone want to hurt him?

“I don’t know exactly what Felix and the rest have planned against you, but I know there’s something. He never really tells me anything, but I’ll…I’ll try to find out what I can, to distract him when needed. I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“I’m not,” he said. “The others where I’m staying right now, we’re all in a rather precarious situation together, and I’ve got a few ideas, but…”

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, and after a few moments, he looked back up at her, for once lost for words.

“But thank you. Again. I’d…I appreciate it.”

“Thank you. For bringing some much-needed heart into this place.”

“I think you’ve done that rather well yourself.”

This was news to her often-guilt-wracked brain.

“...Really?”

“Well, of course. You clearly care, Wren…you’re kind, you’re poetic and talented, and far smarter than it seems they give you credit for. It’s in your eyes, too, I think. You can always tell the truth by a person’s eyes.”

Her heart had nearly stopped.

Somehow, though, she could tell that he was unaware of the full effect he had on her.

“Mr. Wonka-ah, Willy, I mean…”

“Forgive me if-I didn’t intend to-”

The clocks around the city chimed the hour, interrupting the two just as they had the day before, and the young man’s expression went from its dazed dawning to a startled realization.

“They’ll need me. Back where I’m staying, I mean.”

“Of-of course,” she said a bit awkwardly as they both stood up.

His hair had dried by now, falling in perfectly imperfect swoops around his face. He’d undone his necktie to keep its cold away from his neck, and his jacket was folded over his arm, and he was looking at her as if he hadn’t had a conversation quite like that with someone in a very, very long time.

And neither had I.

Or…ever, I suppose.

Until now.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.”

She took a breath, let it out, and folded him into a hug, which he returned in an instant.

After two years of jutting angles and sharply possessive grasps, it was remarkable to simply, softly, hold and be held.

They bid a last goodnight before parting ways, and as she took her time walking back to the mansion, the moon seemed brighter than ever before.

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader #fiytwtb

[pikahlua]

Fine I’ll explain the joke

Send this post to anyone who needs it to understand why the Viz translation is actually really good.

I can’t believe this page is leading to the third time I’ve had to do this (first with the “Swiss cheese” thing and then with the “biggest grand slam/one closest to Izuku Midoriya” thing).

Let’s talk about the very intentionally bad slang and author’s footnotes for Camie in chapter 380.

Context: Camie is a gag character who speaks in gyaru slang. Her use of slang is so heavy that all the other characters often find her speech incomprehensible. The cringe slang is the gag. This gag is emphasized in chapter 380 by her speech being so incomprehensible that even the author writing her speech doesn’t quite understand her. He leaves notes in the margins explaining all her slang for the benefit of the audience, but with each note he gets progressively more confused about what she’s saying and ultimately gives up on the explanation. THAT’S THE JOKE.

For comparison purposes, here is the original Japanese scan and the Viz official translation. Note how both have footnotes in the margins.

Here is what she says in Japanese (katakana is represented as capital letters):

te yuu ka KAN’ICHI! ※1 ROOTO ※2 no RENMEN ※3 KOru ※4 toka chou SHAKOTAN ※5 da shi

If I were to translate this literally into English, first of all I wouldn’t be able to, because there aren’t literal translations of slang, but my best attempt would be:

I mean, close shave! ※1 A Rohto ※2 hottie ※3 passing away ※4 would be like a super shakotan ※5 or something

Note that I’ve got no good translation at all for “shakotan.” That’s because shakotan is a type of car that’s been modified to ride low to the ground. It’s from bousouzoku subculture and seems to be popular in the yankii subculture too. I’m not gonna act like I know what the hell I’m talking about with this slang. The best I had when I did my initial translation of the chapter was “low-rider,” but it’s really not the same thing at all; Shakotan has more to do with drag racing and such.

But even if I had a good translation for shakotan, the rest of the sentence is nigh incomprehensible given how much of it is slang. Here are the footnotes Horikoshi left translated into English:

※1 Abbreviation for “a hair’s breadth.” ※2 Rohto Pharmaceutical. Eye drops. Good for the eyes. It means “eye-pleasing.” ※3 A romantically desirable man ※4 Belated (deceased). It means “to pass away.” Probably. ※5 When a vehicle’s height is lowered. Dunno.

Yes, Horikoshi literally wrote “probably” and “dunno” in there. That’s the joke. The footnotes are part of the joke.

So I think (but have absolutely no confidence in saying) the message she’s trying to convey is that letting a sexy dude like Hawks die would be like taking a perfectly good car and cutting it down into a super super low car. Maybe. (I’m honestly just as confused as Horikoshi on this one.)

This means that in order to preserve and translate the joke into English, the translator had to find a balance between relevant English slang that is incomprehensible but also just comprehensible enough for the audience to get what’s going on--oh, and slang that also works with the joke continued in the original footnotes.

I feel really proud of my “close shave” translation for slang that comes from “a hair’s breadth,” but another translator could easily decide that “close shave” isn’t slangy enough or isn’t incomprehensible enough. Rohto is a hard one to translate by itself, but the renmen word (short for ren’ai ikemen) easily refers to a sexy man, so “hottie” is one of the better translation options by far (sorry, but “twink” doesn’t mean what some of y’all think it means--it’s a bad translation here). The slang for “passing away” is a difficult one and the one I was most interested in seeing how the translator would handle. We don’t have many words in English that are slang for dying but maintain a tone of respect like you’re sad or don’t want the person to die. In my opinion, “unalive” is a pretty good attempt.

But then the translator also needed some slang that he could maintain Horikoshi’s jokes for footnotes #4 and #5, namely his “probably” and “dunno.” There was no way shakotan would make the cut. The translator chose “fetch” and “no cap” as the solution. They’re cringey enough slang that walk the line between incomprehensible and just comprehensible enough AND allow for a literal description in the footnote to joke about how the writer just gave up on understanding. Maybe you think you could come up with better slang the translator could use, but remember one does have to consider the entire reading audience and what slang they’ll be able to understand. All in all, the translator did the best they could in these circumstances. Whether or not a joke like this would land very well in English versus in Japanese isn’t really the point, as the translator’s job is just to translate the joke that’s there. What’s funny in another culture isn’t always funny in your own.

That said, I love me some meta jokes, so I did enjoy this one.

#my hero academia leak translations #my hero academia manga spoilers #final showdown spoilers #camie utsushimi #linguistics fun #all right kids do with this what you will

[avis-writeshq]

DETENTION — Damian Wayne 

inspired by ‘detention’ by melanie martinez

a/n: HELLAUURRR!! returning with a damian wayne fic, how typical of me hehehe >:D i actually wrote + worked on this fic for a while now, maybe two months ago? so i'm glad i've been able to post it!! i haven't edited it that much aside from the times i had to reread it to continue writing, so if there are any issues, lmk!!

tw: guns, stalking, kidnapping, s3xual assault, blood, psychopathic tendencies (not by reader or damian), arson, prayer talk, if there’s more lmk!

rating: 16+ for mature themes, coarse language, and mutual pining

wc: 6k

“Morning, Damian!” You smile, waving in greeting as you fell into step beside him. “Did you finish the maths homework?”

He nods, muttering a quiet greeting before fishing his exercise book out of his bag. “Of course I did.” He relishes in the way your eyes lit up as you grabbed the exercise book, quickly turning to the current chapter you were on. “How are you never able to do your homework on time but–”

“– But you’re the one protecting Gotham, yes, Damian, I know.” You roll your eyes as you finish his sentence, having heard the ‘lecture’ one too many times. “I was busy providing sanctum to the sad citizens of Gotham through cheese, garlic, and tomato.”

Damian was well aware of your job at Maria Pizzaria, one of the best pizza places in all of Gotham, and he was happy that you were enjoying your job — even if it did mean you couldn’t do any of your homework for the next day.  

“Alright, hurry up and finish your homework,” he says, chuckling at your frantic scribbling. “What time did you sleep last night, anyway?”

You groan, not ceasing your writing as you respond, “you don’t want to know. Ms Sanders decided to give me a one-thousand-word essay to complete, so estimate on that.”

Silence settles between you for a few moments before you snapped the books closed with a grin. “... and done! Thanks, Damian, you’re a lifesaver – literally. Oh! Did you hear about the new student? Her name’s Lilith, I think. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me about it earlier.”

Strangely enough, the name didn’t seem to ring any bells in his head. Maybe this student was incredibly new, but it’s weird that he hasn’t heard about it from his role as vice president. 

“I actually wasn’t told about any new students,” Damian remarks as the two of you enter the classroom. 

“That’s… weird.” Your brows furrow in confusion. “Did you turn up to all the meetings? Read all the emails?”

“Who do you take me for, of course, I did,” he huffed, taking his usual seat beside you in the centre of the class. “I never heard anything about it.”

You hum, taking in his words with full confidence that he was telling the truth. If there was one thing Damian never did to you, was a lie (aside from when he hid the fact that he was Robin from you – but that was on Bruce’s call, not his). 

“Alright class, can I get your attention please!” The teacher claps their hands with a broad smile. “Everyone, we have a new student today! Lilith, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

A girl, mousey looking with dark brown hair with blonde ends, piercing brown eyes, and she looked innocent enough. Just your average high schooler. But her eyes seemed… off. It was almost like she wasn’t all there. At least, it looked like that to you. Nevertheless, you were never one to judge a book by its cover, so you quickly offered to show her around the school. 

Lilith, as the girl was named, took the offer happily, saying in her thick Maine accent, “thank you, Damian. Oh, and Y/N.” Which you thought was weird, seeing that neither of you have introduced yourselves yet, but you figured that if she talked to the student council, they must have mentioned the both of you at some point. 

“No problem!” You smile, but Damian was unmoving, his eyes narrowing at Lilith and you notice the way his jaw clenches. “Damian…” You hiss under your breath, “welcome the new student.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to nod in acknowledgment. He moved his seat so that it was almost as if the two of you were sharing a table while Lilith sat in front of you. 

“Anyway,” You turn your attention back to Lilith who was staring a bit too hard at Damian for your liking. “I can show you around the school after class. Can I see your timetable?”

“Sure,” Lilith pushes her glasses up, digging into her bag. “Here you go.”

You read through her timetable, humming and nodding at the subject choices. “I have a few classes with you! That’s good, I can show you around then as we head to class. What do you think?”

“Is Damian coming with us?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh…” you falter, trying to ignore the small stab in your heart the statement made. 

“I’ll be there,” Damian cuts in quickly, and you don’t miss the way he brushes his pinky with yours from under the table. 

You notice how her smile widens at his announcement, and you shift awkwardly in your seat. There was one thing you knew for sure – 

*** 

“I don’t like her,” you announce to Damian over the phone, “she seems sketchy.”

“What happened to ‘I never judge a book by its cover’?” Damian snorts, and you hear a page being flicked in the background. “But, I do agree.”

“Maybe she’s just nervous,” you say, more to yourself than to him as you move to sit on your bed. “I mean, she is at a new school. Maybe she just feels awkward about it.”

You can practically hear him nod as he reads his book. Today was one of the rare times he didn’t have a patrol. Instead, Dick decided to take his place, saying that ‘a kid like him needed some down time’ which, to be fair, you couldn’t deny. 

“I agree with you,” Damian says before continuing, “give her a few days though to adjust. We can see her true nature then.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” You say, eyes glancing at the digital clock that was glaring at you from your bedside table. “Sorry. You’re probably tired. You go get some sleep – you always sleep past midnight.”

“Coming from you that means nothing,” Damian remarks, and he laughs when he hears you groan in frustration. “Okay, I’m going to bed soon. I just have to change Titus’s litter box and finish the physics homework Mr Daven gave me.”

You grin at his words, “imagine taking physics. And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Why do you think I’m taking physics?”

“Shut up.”

You hang up on the phone a few moments later, falling backwards on your bed with your back against the pillows. What you didn’t know – and who would have thought – were two brown eyes who stared into your window. 

*** 

“I didn’t know you work here.”

A familiar – albeit, annoying – voice enters your ears and you do your best not to cringe. Lilith seemed to be following you everywhere. The mall, your classes, your hangouts with Damian, and now here. At Maria Pizzaria. When you saw her at the doorway, you felt the bile in your stomach begin to rise.

This has been happening for weeks now and you doubted that it was a coincidence. Damian understood your worries, saying that he’ll do a background check on this so-called Lilith Hart-Stone. So far, nothing. He did checks on her family, on her previous schools, on her life in general and it all points to one thing: completely and utterly normal. Even still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness you felt every time she walked into the room. Damian would do his best to reassure you every time saying that she was ‘harmless’ and that he ‘wouldn’t let her hurt you if it came to it’. 

“Aneko can you take her order, please?” 

“No problem, do you mind sending this over to table 5?”

You nod, wordlessly taking the margarita and pepperoni pizzas to the table. You feel a sinking feeling in your chest, and you really hope that this ‘bad feeling’ is just you being paranoid. 

Your shift continues, long and dragging, throughout the night until 10:30PM sharp. Grabbing your bags and leaving through the back alleyway exit, you make your way to the main street. 

“So, you really do work here.” 

You flinch, spinning around to meet eye to eye with the one and only Lilith Hart-Stone, the very person you were told not to worry about. Her hair was put into two messy space buns, and an eerie grin stretches across her face. She reminds you of someone – some anime character or something – from the way she’s dressed. It’s nothing too crazy or abnormal: just her school uniform with her skirt rolled up a few times too much so that it rests a couple of inches above her knee. Even still, she looks weird. Scary, even, and you remind yourself to be on your guard.

“What about it?” You ask offhandedly, taking a step back. Bad move.

The twisted look on her face seemed to grow, and you do everything you can to not show fear, but the look on your face must have translated what you were feeling. 

“Oh, come no, Y/N. No need to be aggressive.” She giggles, high-pitched and jarring, and it takes everything in you to not cover your ears. “Don’t worry, Y/N. It’ll only hurt for a minute.”

And before you could question it, you feel a harsh blow to the back of your head, and everything fades away into yellows, greys, and blues. The last thing you see before fully slipping into unconsciousness is the evil glint in her brown eyes as she steps toward you. 

*** 

Damian doesn’t see you the next day in school. He waits outside the school gates well into the first period, and when you don’t arrive by the second class, his stomach doesn’t settle. Lilith didn’t come to school either, he notices, and he feels the burning in his chest worsen. Something was wrong – very wrong – and he pulls his phone out to call his father. Bruce answers immediately, knowing full well that Damian never calls during school hours. 

“Father, I fear something happened to Y/N.” Damian is running now, away from the school, ignoring one of the teacher’s cries of disapproval. “It might have something to do with Lilith Hart-Stone–”

“Talking about me, are we?”

Damian spins around, his eyes meeting the sinister eyes of the girl he was just enquiring about. 

Bruce asks through the phone, “Damian, what is going on?”

But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he focuses on the girl in front of him. The mousey, innocent-looking girl who didn’t seem to pose a threat. But, of course, nothing is ever as it seems.

“What did you do to Y/N?” He demands, eyes narrowing to slits as he slips his phone into his pocket.

“I’m insulted that you’d think I’d do anything to little Y/N.” She smirks. “Not that you’re wrong.”

Damian clenches his jaw, balling his hands at his side, ready to strike. His tone is dangerous as he demands, “What did you do to her?”

“Temper, temper,” she cackles before clicking her fingers, the smirk on her face never fading.

In an instant, two men are at Damian’s side and he twists around to land a sharp punch to one of their faces, and a harsh kick to the other’s torso. The men retaliate accordingly: one aiming for Damian’s head and the other aiming for his side. ‘They’re amateurs,’ Damian scoffs to himself, jumping out of the way and landing a blow on one of their necks, effectively knocking him out. The other man was not happy over the fact that a kid – even if he is almost 18 – knocked his partner out in the time span of five minutes, and aimed for another blow to Damian’s head. But Damian was quicker, and smarter, too. He grips the man’s fat wrist, pulling him down and socking him in the nose. 

Easy. Too easy. Something was amiss. Then he feels it. He swings around, just in time to dodge another attempted blow to his head, but not in time to dodge the knee that hit his stomach. 

Damian chokes, falling back on impact, his school bag as a cushion. The one who hit him in the stomach takes a hold of Damian’s collar, punching him across the face (finally landing the blow), before pinning him to the floor, face first, while another man pins his legs to the ground. There’s no escape. 

Lilith fishes his phone from his pocket, eyes flashing with excitement. Bruce, on the other end, is chanting, “Damian? Damian?” To which she responds with pure malice:

“Damian is a little busy right now. This is Lilith, by the way, but I’ll call you back soon. See you, Batsy!” She hangs up. 

“What do you want?” Damian asks from the floor, cheek scraping against the gravel with each word. “Unhand me!”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands, little bird,” Lilith squeals at her own words before nodding to the men. “You know what to do.”

Damian feels the pressure on his legs leave, and the man who gripped his collar lifts him one more time, and he takes in the smell of chemicals on cloth.

***

The cold air whips Damian’s face as he awakes, his eyes blinking as they adjust to the bright city lights. It is dark now – around 7, Damian figures – and the bright city lights flash in his view. Lilith stands over him, grinning ear to ear. It is only then that he realises the situation he is currently in: wrists chained to a pole on the roof of some skyscraper, and you sat in front of him, seeming to be in the same position.

“So the little bird finally decided to wake up after all.” She shrieks with delight as his eyes open. 

Damian grits his teeth as he fights against the metal chains. “What are you trying to do?”

Lilith hums sadistically, playing around with the gun in her hands. “You know what? I’ll amuse you. I’m doing it because I’m in love with you.”

Her words make him sick. His stomach churns and he tries not to gag. She thought that he’d be in love with her too? After all the stunts she’s pulled? What kind of person did she think he is?

“I know, I know… ‘I don’t even know you’ and all that.” She rolls her eyes, flicking her dyed hair over her shoulder. “But what you don’t know, my love, is that I know plenty about you – everything – about you. I know what time you go to sleep, what your hobbies are, how many pets you have, all your brothers, and where you came from. I know the exact route you take to get home, I know your favourite food, your secrets, everything.”

She lets out an almost sad sigh as she says, “I just don’t know how you feel.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” Damian scowls, eyes narrowing to slits, “and I feel disgusted.”

Lilith laughs, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard. “My naive little bird. I mean… physically.”

She’s close to him now, her face was in front of his and their noses are almost touching. Her free hand tiptoeing up his chest. He pulls away, baring his teeth in retaliation. 

She scoffs, “you put me on too low a pedestal, Damian, while you make her out to be an angel. Tell me, Robin, why is that?”

The boy spits back, “Someone like you could never understand.”

She scoffs in surprise. “Don’t tell me… you’re in love with her! Big, bad, Damian Wayne – Robin himself! – is in love with poor, little, Y/N.” Lilith laughs a manic, psychopathic laugh, and Damian suppresses every feeling of wanting to lash out and yell. She continues, “and to think of all the trouble that could happen if this little… scandal came out.”

Damian doesn’t hold back as he tries to lunge at her in anguish, the cold metal chains digging into the flesh of his wrists. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would,” she smirks mockingly, and Damian watches in horror as she lifts your chin with the barrel of her gun. “Y/N was so nice to me, too… but she’s the one who’s taking you away from me.” Her eyes flash dangerously, “But if I can’t have you, no one can.”

She drops your chin, and Damian sucks in a breath of relief – at least now he had a little time to come up with a plan. His father should be here any minute, but she’s armed and dangerous. She has two hostages, himself and you. There’s a fire escape on his left, but it seems to be barred and chained, preventing any sort of escape. Damian swears silently to himself. He should have seen the signs. He could have prevented all of this but he didn’t. He knows exactly what you would say to him if you heard him – “it’s not your fault” and “you couldn’t have known”. 

Lilith chuckles darkly, “you should see your face! Your look of regret…” With a powerful swing, the hilt of her gun made contact with the side of Damian’s face. “Pathetic,” she muttered, and Damian watches as she checks her watch, a sinister smile stretching across her face. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. I just have to get your father’s permission to be yours.”

She snorts, “not like it matters! You’ll be mine either way – especially if you value your life.”

His eyes widen, Father. Of course, all his father was doing was buying him some time. He watches as Lilith skips away, swinging the gun haphazardly as she leaves the rooftop. Now was his chance. Pressing a button on his watch, letting out a breath of relief at the feeling of the machine turning on, preparing for usage. Seconds later, he was free from his bonds, and he shook out his wrists, muttering quietly to himself, “thanks, Pennyworth.”

He rushes over to you, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up. “Come on, Y/N…”

A quiet, almost inaudible, groan squeezes past your lips and Damian’s heart relaxes. He got to work at your bonds, and they gave way relatively easily – the chains that were wrapped around your wrists were rustier than his. You fall forward into his arms, shaking you awake, and you grunt in discomfort. 

“Damian…?”

“Y/N…” He lets out a breath of relief, helping you up to your feet as you massage your temples. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You mumble, clutching your head as you adjusted to the bright city lights. “What’s- what’s going on?”

The boy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his gaze shifting to the barred fire escape. “You remember your friend Lilith?”

Your expression changes with the blink of an eye. “She did this? Are you okay? What did she do to you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” He says gently, brushing some hair out of your eyes. “But that’s the least of our worries. We have to get out of here.”

“Damian, wait. You have to know what I heard.” You let out a breath, catching his arm. “When she knocked me out, she didn’t do a very good job at it. I went in and out of consciousness and- and I could hear everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Damian demands, holding your arms as he searches your eyes for an answer. “What do you mean?”

“She’s going to set the whole building on fire. She’s going to–” the words get caught in your throat and you shake your head in disbelief. “She’s going to burn us alive. Damian, there are people in here – civilians.”

The vigilante freezes at your words as he processes the severity of the situation. How many people could be in this building right now? There are around fifteen stories, from what he could tell, but it was already past the average working hours. Maybe five on each level? That’s still seventy-five people inside the building. He had no way to contact his father – Lilith and her lackeys decided to take his phone – and from the looks of it, you didn’t have anything on you either. 

From down below, he could hear the commotion of police officers with their loud sirens and bright lights. One of them was holding a megaphone, ready to state their claims, while firetrucks and police officers readied themselves if anything were to go wrong. 

“We need to get out of here and evacuate everyone,” Damian says, eyes flitting from the locked door and the officers on the ground. “I’m going to jump off the building.”

Your eyes budge out of your head at his words, snapping your head to look at him so quickly you got whiplash. “What do you mean you’re doing to jump off the building?” 

“There’s a hose next to the fire escape, we’ll use that. It’s bound by a metal fire reel and you’re going to hold onto it. I’ll scale down to the floor below us and break the glass. Then I’ll open up the fire escape.” He lets out a breath, blue-green eyes looking at you intently. “(Y/N), can you do that?”

“I-” you stammer, head reeling with the fact that you needed to support Damian, an almost 18-year-old who was mostly muscle and reached six foot two last Tuesday. “I- I don’t know, I’ve never–”

“(Y/N).” He says your name in a way you’ve never heard him say it before; with a softness and a kindness that sounded strange coming out of his mouth. “You can do it.”

You exhale, eyes shifting from the ground, to the hose, and finally to him. “Okay.”

He smiles, and you can tell it’s meant to be reassuring, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Okay.”

In moments, he’s attaching the hose to his belt loops and you’re testing the strength of the hose. The thick plastic is enough to give yourself a heart attack – what if itsn’t stable? What if it breaks? What if it unties? – but you have faith in Damian. He’s Robin; he can do this. You can do this. 

“On the count of three,” Damian says carefully, standing on top of the balcony wall. 

“One…” He tightens his hold on the hose. 

“Two…” You widen your stance against the brick safety wall that separates you and the 150 feet fall. 

“Three!” 

He begins to fall, and on his command, you grip the hose as tightly as possible, your feet digging against the wall. You feel him come to a stop and your heart lurches as you feel the pressure sink into your stomach. 

“I’m going to swing now!” You hear him yell and you wonder how his voice doesn’t waver. 

“Okay!” You scream back and your grip tighter. 

He swings, and you can feel weight of the hose shift with each movement. You’re praying now, you don’t know who’ll hear you, but you’re praying that he’ll be okay. 

Once, twice, three times he swings and finally, the fourth time you feel him swing back towards the building you hear a shatter. The glass gave way. He’s in the building. 

You’re still gripping onto the hose just in case until you hear him call, “I’m in!” 

The adrenaline is still pumping through your body, and you release the makeshift tether, collapsing backwards onto the harsh floor of the rooftop. ‘He’s okay,’ you repeat in your head, trying to calm the quickening pace of your heart. ‘He’ll be here soon. He’s going to evacuate everyone then we’re free. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, we’ll be okay…’

The rattling of the lock on the fire escape snaps you out of your thoughts and your heart quickens in your chest. ‘Please, please, please…’

Your gaze doesn’t shift from the door, begging to whatever higher entity there is that it’s Damian. And when the red metal door finally swings open so that your eyes meet with blue-green ones, you’ve never felt more relief in your life. 

“You’re okay.” You breathe, and you shake as you get back onto your feet, stumbling towards him. “You’re okay, you’re okay…”

He chuckles, reaching out and bringing you closer to his chest. “I’m okay. You did good.” His lips brush against your forehead and you can feel the tears in your eyes begin to fall. “You did really good.”

He pulls away from you, his gaze softening and he cups your face in his hands, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks. “We have to get out of here. I don’t know how long father can stall her for.” He pauses before continuing, “are you okay?”

You nod, head still spinning and heart still pounding in your chest. “I’m okay.”

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t risk using the elevator, instead choosing to run down each flight of stairs and ordering for everyone to leave before the building to erupts into flames. The loud screams of the workers fill your ears as you continue to go down each floor of the skyscraper, but when you finally get to the lobby, everything seemed to be eerily quiet. 

“There’s no one here…” you pant, hands on your knees as try to catch your breath. From the corner of your eye, you can see the civilians running outside and being questioned by the police. Luckily, all were safely escorted outside while you and Damian trailed behind just in case someone was forgotten.

The crashing of a vase makes you whip around behind you, only to be met with the sinister eyes of Lilith herself. She lets out a strangled scream, her hands pulling at her hair as scrunched up her face. Her breaths heavy and her eyes narrowed dangerously into slits, she whips the gun from her belt, pointing at the two of you.  

“You!” She screeched, hands trembling. “You little bitch. You always want to make my life miserable!”

Damian pushes you behind him and you know what he’s really trying to say. Get out of here. But you know better than to leave him here by himself. 

“Always getting in my way,” Lilith rattles on, glaring at his actions. “Always acting as if you’re better than me. Well jokes on you! This building is going down, and you’re going down with it!”

“Lilith, let’s talk about this…” Damian says slowly, and he side eyes the exit. “You don’t have to do this.”

Another scream of anguish escapes from the girl, and she fires a shot into the air, hitting the ceiling. You jolt at the sound, eyes widening at the hole in the roof. 

Damian’s gaze darkens. “Drop the gun, Lilith.”

“I have to do this!” She screeched, hands trembling. “The building is about to catch on fire anyway! Burn in hell!”

“Lilith, you don’t need to do this!” You try, “we can–”

She lets out a laugh at your words. “There is no ‘we’ in this equation! And you’ll never understand because you get everything you want in life! So shut the fuck up!” 

The sound of something exploding from the floor above you makes you jump and you feel your heart jolt in your chest. Damian’s hands find yours as another explosion sounds. Bigger this time, and Lilith’s lips stretch to a wide grin. Smoke begins to billow from the doors and so does the fire. Another bang! on your left near the exit, and it promptly lights up with reds and oranges. Waiting area is quick to catch flames and the smoke fills your nose and lungs. 

“Ooh, it’s almost done! A few more explosions to go! You know, I thought you were going to be on the roof by the time I was done, so I rigged the whole thing to start at the top floor but…” She trails off, swinging the gun around again before meeting your eyes, “now I can watch you burn.”

Damian scoffs and he pushes you towards the exit. You start running just as he speaks, “Over my dead body.”

Lilith shrugs, lifting the gun and aiming it directly at the Wayne heir. “That could be arranged. But…” the smirk returns. “I’d rather kill her.” 

“Wait-” 

She doesn’t. Instead, she points the gun at you and fires. You try to move, you try to get out of the way. Your mind is screaming at your legs to do something – anything – to avoid getting shot. Damian is running after you, trying to take the bullet, but it’s too late. 

A searing pain burns through your abdomen and you press a hand to where the pain sits. Crimson stains your shirt and you look up. Your head is spinning and a metallic taste settles in your mouth. You stumble backwards, just in time to fall into Damian’s strong arms. A sharp beeping sound starts screaming in your ears along with Lilith’s loud cackling. In a quick movement, he picks you up and starts running out the door, only for the building to erupt in flames seconds later. Black spots line your vision and you see people in dark blue uniform surround you. Damian is yelling something, you can’t make sense of it, before he presses his forehead to yours. 

“You’ll be okay,” you hear him whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

You want to ask, ‘what are you sorry for? It wasn’t your fault.’ But as the noise starts and you feel someone take you away from him, the only thing you can do is close your eyes. 

*** 

“Thank you…” you mumble, taking the glass of warm water from Alfred. 

He smiles in return, “of course, Miss (Y/N). Let me know if there is anything else you require. I understand it must be difficult to be here.”

Your current situation involves one of the many spare rooms at Wayne Manor after your surgery, and despite how loud the manor usually was on your visits, the area Alfred placed you in was all too quiet. In fact, you would think that the entire family was avoiding you – best friend included. 

“It’s okay. Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“It is our pleasure to have you here,” Alfred responds graciously, and you know he isn’t lying. “I’ll have Miss Barbara change your bandages tomorrow if that is alright. Ring the bell if you require any assistance.”

“Thank you, Alfred. And you know you can just call me (Y/N) right?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I am aware. However, I believe that calling you Miss (Y/N) is more suitable.”

With that, he bids you adieu, and you’re once again left to your own devices. The silence of the room has you shivering despite the warm cup in your hand. The books you half-finished lay haphazardly on the bedside table, and the tv on the other side of the room deemed itself to be useless when you’ve watched every good Netflix show in the past two and a half weeks. 

You glance at the clock; fifteen past one. You would usually be asleep at this time, but it hasn’t always been easy. The pain medications make you drowsy, sure, but the feeling of sleep doesn’t wash over you like it once did. Before Lilith. 

The newspaper sits on your bed, the front cover bearing words you so desperately wanted to read. ‘The perpetrator who kidnapped the youngest son of Bruce Wayne alongside local teenage girl pronounced dead in skyscraper fire’. To you, those words released the weight from your shoulders. You didn’t have to be scared anymore. You shouldn’t have to be scared anymore. But you were. No one in the Wayne family, except for Alfred and Barbara, have spoken to you since the incident. To be fair, Dick was in Bludhaven and was probably still caught up in his work to even notice what was going on in Gotham. Jason hasn’t been to the manor in a while doing some sort of undercover mission. Tim was with Stephanie on a mission (to Greece, of all places!) while Cass came and went as she pleased. But out of all of them, you would have at least expected for Damian to show up – even if it was just for a moment. 

The quiet creaking of the door lulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes widen at the sight of the person in front of you. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Neither do you. But like everything, the silence must be broken. 

“You should be asleep,” Damian says curtly, stepping out of the doorway. 

A scoff exits your voice. “You shouldn’t have to wait for me to fall asleep to visit me.”

He flinches at your tone, a tone that you’ve never taken with him, and he closes the door. “I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me.”

Anger replaces your faux disappointment and you shoot him an icy glare. “I was knocked out, kidnapped, almost a victim of arson, shot, and you don’t think I would have wanted to see you?!”

You throw the covers off of you, stumbling as you stepped over to him. “I almost died, Damian, and you didn’t think I wanted to see me best friend?” Your chest aches and you can’t tell if it was from the gunshot or from your heart. “You thought I didn’t want to see the person who went through the same thing as I did?!” 

You jab a finger at his chest, tears falling down your face, blurring your vision; you can’t see his reaction. “I saw you jump off the fucking roof! You jumped off the roof and- and-” you swallow the lump in your throat. “You could have died! We could have died and you avoided me! I haven’t seen you in weeks, Damian! You could have been dead for all I know! And the last time I saw you was the second before the doctors took me and-”

He gently brings you into his arms, effectively rendering you speechless with surprise. With his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his nose against your jaw, you wonder if this really is the same Damian you knew before the incident. 

“I’m so sorry,” He breathes, pulling away to look you sincerely in the eyes. “This never should have happened, I– (Y/N), I failed you.”

“You didn’t fail me–” he scoffs in protest but you continue, “–you saved me.”

He shakes his head adamantly, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. “You shouldn’t have needed saving in the first place. You got hurt out of my own inadequacy and my own misjudgments. You got shot because of my incapabilities and foolishness. None of this should have happened.”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than intended but you speak nonetheless. “Lilith fooled everyone. It’s not your fault she did what she did. And you saved me, Damian. You saved so many people that day. Without you, none of them would have made it out of the building. We wouldn’t be here right now. You got us out of that mess – a mess that you didn’t make.”

He’s quiet for a moment, gently leading you to your bed to sit down and he sits besides you. He dries your tears with his thumbs, cupping your face gently with his palms as he does so. 

“You shouldn’t have to look at a failure.”

“Dames, you’re the furthest thing from a failure.” You rest a hand over his, gently stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “You’re a hero.”

You press your forehead against his and you feel him lean into your touch. “I love you.” He whispers, not an ounce of shame or guilt or embarrassment in his words. “I love you so much.”

You smile, your heart bursting in your chest at his words. “I know. I love you, too.”

reblogs are always appreciated!!

no hate to people who have the name lilith 😭😭

#damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #dc x reader #batfamily #robin x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tw arson #tw assault #tw sa mention

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Evermore: Part. 2

A/N: Hello! I just wanted to thank everyone who has read and commented on the last chapter! That truly means a lot to me.

Warnings: There aren't many warnings, but to have tissues ready. It's been hard to write without crying every sentence.

Before I shut up, I just wanted to thank my lovely besties here. @hollybee8917 ! She made this wonderful mood board and edited this chapter! So thank you, babes!

Your alarm clock buzzed, and you moaned. You barely gotten any sleep and you didn’t want to get up. But you had to, because today wasn’t just an ordinary day. Today was a big day. Before you could even get up, the door opened and the sounds of tippy taps were heard. You smiled, and the sound of sniffing and then the 80 lbs. Alaskan Malamute/German Shepherd pup jumped onto the bed.

“Alright Sarg!” You said as he gave you wet kisses. You then pushed Sarg off, and he jumped off. It was a chilly, winter morning, so you grabbed your sweater and the moment you placed it on, you smiled. The scent of Bergamot and Vanilla filled your nose.

“In a few more hours, honey.” You said to yourself and wondered what he was up to.

And on cue, your phone rang and you quickly grabbed it and slid the green button.

Hi angel.

You smiled to yourself, “Hello Mr. Levinson, did you sleep well? And I thought you weren’t supposed to call me sir?”

You heard Ari laugh and you let out a giggle. He replied, “I did, surprisingly. And I know, I know. Andy forbade me from calling you. But I can’t go a day without hearing your voice. Even if it’s just for a brief moment.”

And that is true. Ever since you were 16, Ari would have called you. You weren’t dating then, but him being your best friend since you were teens, nothing could sway him from talking to you.

You scratched your head, “Is everything okay, Ari?”

“In all honesty? No. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Aww baby, is everything alright?”

“No, because you’re not here.”

A sad sight slipped from your lips, “How do I make everything okay?”

Ari laughed, “Oh angel, it will be in a few hours when you become Mrs. Levinson.”

The sound of that made your heart jump for joy. That is true. You heard Andy in the background, and you laughed.

Well, Mrs. Soon-to-be Levinson, I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.

You smiled, “Love you too, Mr. Levinson.”

You hung up, and Sarg jumped onto the bed, giving you a bark.

“Alright! I’m going, I’m going!” You said, getting up and heading out.

 **

A few hours later…

You stood in front of the mirror, making sure that everything was in place. Your hair was perfect, makeup was just the way you wanted it. A knock was heard and you turned around to see your college best friend Holly. In her hands was your bouquet of white, dark magenta pink, and baby pink Roses.

“You got something new and borrowed. But something is missing.” Holly said, as she placed your bouquet down and a small box appeared. You had curious eyes as your friend strolled towards you. The box opened, and you gasped.

A diamond pendant.

“I told Ari no expensive gifts!” You say, running your fingertips against the necklace.

“He knew you would have said that,” Holly said and handed you a small card. You placed the box down and opened the card.

I had a feeling that you would say something about the gift. I know we decided not to give expensive gifts, but you deserve it. Hell, you deserve everything in this world. I love you, Mrs. Levinson.

-Ari

You smiled and sighed.

“Let’s put on.” You say. You took the necklace and placed it around your neck.

**

The limo pulled up in front of St. Cecilia Catholic Church. The car came to a complete stop, and you took a deep breath and sighed. Then the door opened, and your best friend Holly came out, then your parents. You handed Holly your bouquet and got yourself out. It’s only been 30 minutes, and your feet are already hurting from the heels that you are wearing. You hated them, but Holly and your mother insisted you wear them. Thank the lord you brought your flats, and you would be changing into them after the ceremony. 

You fidgeted nervously as you stood in front of the double doors. With your dad next to you and your arm linked to his, he looked down at you, “Ready, Squirt?”

You giggled, knowing that was your nickname since you were a kid.

“I am daddy. And dad?” You asked.

“What is it?” He asked. 

You placed your hand on top of his and smiled, “Thank you for everything.” 

Your dad smiled and patted your hand. And with that, the doors opened, and everyone stood up. Your hands started to shake as the music started playing Yiruma’s Moments and you started to walk down the aisle. You shook a little until you looked towards the altar and your beloved Ari was looking back at you. The way he smiled at you made your heart soar. He was looking mighty fine. He wore his Army uniform, with his saber by his side. His thick beard and the way his long fluffy hair brought a smile to your face once more. (You had only a few months with him before he was deployed back to South Carolina for training new recruits) 

When you reached the front, your dad released your hand and placed it into Ari’s. You then stepped forward and faced Ari.

“Hi Angel,” Ari whispered. 

You wiped your tears and smiled, “Hi, Ari Bear.”

**

Wandering around the venue with a glass of wine in your hands, you spoke with guests. As you did, you looked over to the other side of the hall to see your now husband heading towards you. You handed your glass to Holly and by the time you did, Ari was in front you with his hand out. You placed yours into his and he took you to the middle of the dance floor. Ari gave the DJ a nod and a familiar tune came on. You looked up at Ari and he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat, “Is this-“

“Me and You?” 

Ari said, “Yes it is.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you placed your head against his chest.

“Everyday I live

Try my best to give

All I have to you

Thank the stars above

That we share this love

Me and You”

“You looked so beautiful walking down the aisle.” Ari whispered into your ear. 

“You knew that I liked your thick beard.” You said, as you still both swayed to the music.

Those are the exact words he has always said to you when he would write you letters, or send you flowers. But hearing him singing them to you made it even more special. You thank the stars that he came into your life. You then looked towards him and reached up to kiss him, “I love you.”

Ari kissed you once more, “I love you more.” 

**

You strolled with Sam by your side as you went towards Ari. Everything around you seemed like a blur, and nothing existed. Your heart was beating and breaking all at the same time by the time you got to his casket. You let go of Sam’s arm and stood for a moment, looking. But the second you placed your hand on top of the flag, everything went south with your emotions. Your tears, your feelings, your love for Ari, it all hit you. You placed your head down onto the coffin and balled your fists tightly. 

“Ari, I’m here now.” You whisper. 

You felt a hand behind you, and you knew that it was Andy.  

“Y/N, they have to retrieve him now,” Andy told you. 

You placed a kiss on top of the flag, and you stepped back, even if it was hurting. You held on to Andy, tears still coming down, and you watched on as your husband was being placed into the Hearst. The moment the door closed, Andy led you back to the car so you could go to the funeral home.

Good evening. I'm Jason Austel from NBC Boston. We start this evening with some upsetting news. A local hero, US Army Captain Ari Levinson from Concord, died today. He was deployed overseas and was in the Humvee when a bomb exploded in the car in front of them. He is survived by his wife and his 5-month-old daughter.

#andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x female reader #chris evans x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson angst

[jayujus]

JOAH (I LIKE YOU) - CHAPTER 25

— 25 : make amends

written ~ 0.4k + smau

y/n had just entered the café, looking around for riki.

it was a pretty busy hour, so many people were there and it was hard for her to find him. however, riki had spotted her and gestured her his way.

she flashed a slight smile at him before making her way to his table. she mumbles a little 'hi' and sits down in front of him.

it was silent for a while.

"so... i've been meaning to talk to you for a while." y/n hums, also agreeing. "should we order first?"

"sure,"

after ordering, riki clears his throat while staring at the coffee cup in his hand.

"umm... first, i just want to apologize for being a bad person to you and i know i don't really have the right to talk to you again but.. i realized it was draining me when we didn't talk and i got jealous when you were close with junghoon..." riki purses his lips, in anticipation in whether or not he should continue with that sentence.

y/n notices his expression and raises her eyebrow at the mention of junghoon's name. "what are you saying?"

for a second, it goes silent between the two while y/n waits for riki's answer. "i'm trying to imply that i realized i had feelings for you."

it goes silent again. y/n stares at riki in shock but also confusion. he doesn't exactly expect her to say anything, even he feels a bit strange telling her this. hell, he didn't even tell his friends that directly.

"riki...? do you just miss the attention or do you actually like me?" riki frowns at y/n's response. he realized the way he acted towards her before made it hard to believe his feelings now.

"no no! i really do like you! really... i'm so sorry i didn't realize this before and i know you moved on but i just-" riki exclaims until y/n interrupts him.

"riki i feel that i have to get my feelings straight first... i think you're being genuine, really. but with junghoon and everything, i don't want to hurt him and i'm not sure where my feelings with you quite stand." riki hums in understanding, although he is a bit sad that she can't give him any direct response.

"i appreciate the flowers, of course. roses are one of my favorites... and i appreciate you for caring but just give me some time and we'll see what happens from there. maybe we can at least be friends now?" she flashes a smile at him, earning a smile back from riki.

"yes, friends." the two had then talked casually and hung out for the rest of the evening. however, it was still a bit awkward for riki, but he was able to manage fine as long as y/n wasn't uncomfortable.

previous | next | masterlist

a/n ❀ : i liked writing this chap but i still feel a bit insecure abt my writing skills 😭😭 so i'm sorry if it isn't very good... also please don't spam too much i think im getting shadowbanned

(closed) taglist ❀ : @forever-in-the-sky2 @wonqr @strwberrydinosaur @j-wyoung @alicesolengg @rikimylove @hehet-ateez @dneltrise @latriii @ocyeanicc @yumilovesloona @baekxo07 @yourmyst4r @suvgs @telengraph @cha0thicpisces @maybemiko @str4wb3rryc0ww @kaizny @noascats @captivq @calkai @rikizm @chaechae-23 @blehblehbleh20122007 @iea-tsand @beomgyusonlywife @kjrcrz @viagumi @lunavixia @neeneee @sullyoonooc @im-yn-suckers @b1ndignity @samvagejkflxhrt @darly6n @astrae4 @wonyoungsvirus @deadgirlwalking3 @kissezfornamjoon @lilacri @rikibsf @yanagisprettygf @luvalee @sxftiell @heeheesang @tswisal1 @sloobydooburmomjungwon @pkjay @yizhoutv @brrrkdslek @y0iy0i @shigamiryuk @231engene4ever @luvistqrzzz @hyuckscore

#jayujus #joah (i like you) #social media au #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #ni-ki #niki #niki nishimura #ni-ki enhypen #ni-ki x reader #riki x reader #riki nishimura smau #riki nishimura #nishimura riki #nishimura riki smau #smau #riki smau #ni-ki smau #niki smau #riki enhypen #enhypen riki #enhypen angst #© jayujus 2023 #25: make amends #enhypen ni-ki #school au #love triangle au #enhypen au

[ponyosmom35]

Here for you

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability chapter thirteen!

synopsis: Before MW2, reader had finally gotten Simon to trust her, they were even friends. Both have feelings for each other but neither has said anything about it. Her sister is KIA and Simon finds her outside in the middle of the night with tears in her eyes. He opens up to her.

warnings: angsttttttt, talks about death, simons past, PTSD

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

a/n:

strap in, this is a long ass chapter! poor Simon needs a hug.

She sat with her back pressed against the guard tower, she stared out at the empty base, the calmest she’d ever seen it. Tears stream down her face as she tries to reconcile the truth: her sister was dead. It didn’t feel real, how could Emma be gone, she’d just talked to her earlier that morning. Though she’d long since washed the blood off of her hands, she still felt it. She looks down for the millionth time checking them. She shakes her head and runs her hand through her hair. 

“what are you doing out here?” a familiar deep voice asks 

She whips around to see none other than Simon Riley in his balaclava at the top of the steps. “Simon, you scared me” she says holding a hand to her heart “I couldn’t sleep” 

“me neither” he responds as he moves to sit beside her. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m not really sure yet, I don’t wanna talk about it if that’s okay” she says, looking over at him. He nods, worrying that he wasn’t the right person to be here. He’d always been dreadfully bad at speaking. Never was he a man of many words, he’d use as many as he needed to get his point across and end it there. If he could speak in one-word sentences he would. He knew that any of the others would be able to comfort her, say something that would make her feel better. 

“tell me something” she asks gently 

“what do you want to know?” he responds, shifting uncomfortably, another thing he wasn’t good at; talking about himself. 

“anything about you” she says softly “please” she nearly whispers

Simon looks at her thoughtfully, never feeling more exposed in his life. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to think of something he could share. He knew she needed this, she needed a distraction. If it were anybody else he wouldn’t have stayed, if this were anyone else he would’ve excused himself instantly. But this was her. The woman who’d somehow melted the ice in his heart. The woman he found himself thinking about at all hours of the day. The only woman he’d ever really trusted. She was the first person to learn his name in years, bringing him back from the ‘ghost’ persona that he’d so carefully crafted. She saw him, and he was terrified. 

Simon takes a deep breath, knowing that there was no going back now.  “Well, um... when I was a kid, my parents took me out to a cabin in the woods a lot. We’d go fishing and swim in the lake during the summertime” 

“sounds wonderful” she smiles, imagining the scenery and a little Simon running around with a fishing pool in hand. 

“it was” he says, staring down at his gloved hands. “sometimes I think about how different my life would have been if I had just stayed there… would’ve been so simple... maybe I would have even met someone, and started a family of my own, had some semblance of a life outside of this” 

Both are shocked at his confession, she was certain that this was the most he’d ever spoken at once. Her heart swells as she notices his behavior shift. He was sad. 

“so there is no Mrs. Riley back home then?”

“no, no there isn't” he responds, not an ounce of emotion in his voice, she could tell he was trying to pull away. She was losing him. 

“what do you do when you're not here? How does Simon spend his days off?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood. Her heart leaps when he chuckles softly. 

“I'm out on missions or back at base waiting for the next one” he shrugs 

“So you’re telling me you have no hobbies?” she asks

“what, you mean like knitting?” he asks sarcastically 

“Sure” she giggles

“I'm going to tell you something I've told very few people. this stays between you and me, alright?”

“my lips are sealed” she promises

“I like to read” he pauses, thinking about how strange it is to tell her this. To anybody else, it wouldn’t be such a crazy admission. He looks over at her, noticing the happiness in her eyes and the smile on her lips, so he continues. “ I've always been a fairly quiet and reserved person. Never been able to find the words you know? I didn't have too many friends to talk to when I was growing up, so I could always rely on books”

“I love to read also” she responds “I feel the same, sometimes it’s nice to escape the world for a bit”

“that's exactly why I do it” his voice is soft and vulnerable, something he’d never heard from him before. For the first time in years, he’s relaxed.  He didn’t feel the need to maintain a serious facade. “ it's a nice feeling to get lost in an endless world of wonder and excitement. and for a little while at least. You just get to exist in this universe where you're completely in control. it's... freeing”

“You can be anyone you want” she agrees 

“Yeah” he murmurs

“thanks for trusting me with that Simon, I promise I won't tell anyone”

Simon nods and looks over at her, noticing the way she rubs her hands together as a light breeze hit them. He takes his gloves off quickly and hands them over to her wordlessly. She looks up at him with a smile on her face. “Thank you”

“Don’t mention it” he says gruffly, she snorts, there’s the man she knew. 

“can I tell you something?” she asks, watching as he nods

“I'm awful at cooking, I was banned from the kitchen at my parent’s house growing up” 

“oh yeah? what, do you burn everything you touch or something?” he asks playfully, his voice lighter now. He tries to imagine her in the kitchen. 

“guess you could say that” she laughs 

“I love cooking. It's therapeutic. There is something very calming about kneading dough, chopping up vegetables, and getting your hands dirty in the process”

“I knew there was more to you than meets the eye” she teases  “seriously though I can see it, for some reason it actually kinda makes sense to me that you can cook”

what's that supposed to mean?” he raises his eyebrows

“It suits you” she shrugs “can I ask you a really personal question?”

“Go on” he says

“what's your favorite color?” 

He chuckles loudly “you're really pushing it now darling”

“seriously though what is it?”

He pauses for a few seconds before answering “green... I like trees, grass, leaves... the color of nature in general. And you? What’s your favorite color?”

“Green” she smiles 

“Fucking hell” he nods, surprised how much they had in common. Amazed that he’d stayed for so long, he’d opened himself up so easily, that being with her made him want to keep talking.

“Yeah” she says pushing her sleeve up to show him the green moss agate bracelet he noticed that she would wear on her constantly. The only time he’d seen her without it was when she was working with a patient. 

“I like it”

“It’s moss agate, supposed to give you emotional balance” she responds, dropping her hand back to her lap as they fall into a comfortable silence. Simon wonders why she would need emotional balance, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Never had he seen her lose her cool (except for when they fought - which he tried to forget). Simon moves his body, pushing himself against the railing so he could face her, his foot bruises against her leg and he drops his hands in between his thighs. He was so interested in her, he wanted to know everything. 

“So, how did you end up...here? It's a big world, and you could've landed in any number of places, yet you ended up in the middle of nowhere”

“I always wanted to help people, that much I knew growing up. It wasn't until after Emma left to join the service that I was stuck at home with my parents, I know they meant well but they constantly compared the two of us. nothing I did could ever measure up to her” she pauses as she takes off her bracelet, tracing the stones lightly. 

“go on... I'm listening” he encourages 

“my grandma had an accident, she needed CPR and I don't know what came over me, I just started compressions without a second thought. I was able to save her, and I guess from then on I knew that I was meant to be a medic. To answer your question, I'm here because of Emma. I wanted to be closer to her and when Laswell offered me the job I accepted. Now I'm here with the legendary Simon Riley” 

He laughs lightly “sounds like your destiny” 

“how did you end up here?”

“you wanna know how I got here?” he asks, unsure if he was ready to discuss that. Part of him wanted to tell her everything he’d been through, the other part was terrified of letting her in. He looks over at her with a soft expression. 

“Had a shitty childhood, enlisted as soon as I could. Worked my way up the ranks, turns out I was really good at my job. About ten years ago, give or take... I was leading a team on a mission. We were tasked with apprehending a terrorist leader who had been responsible for many attacks. The mission wasn't exactly sanctioned, however. It was sort of a personal favor to me from my CO, General Shepherd. He knew I wanted this guy, so he gave me the go-ahead to conduct the mission” he pauses, she could tell that he was reliving it all in his mind “after crossing the border and deep into enemy territory, we finally made it to the terrorist's hideout. We were able to gain the upper hand, and captured him and a few other members of the group who were working under him, but things didn't quite go to plan” 

He stops again, trying hard not to say the words that are forming in the back of of head. He stares off into space. Memories plaguing him.  

“I lost them. All of them, except... “ More emotions cloud his voice until he can barely understand what he was saying. His heart started beating so fast that he could hear it pounding in his ears.

“you don't have to tell me Simon” she says gently, noticing the visible distress he was going through. As the seconds pass, he slowly regains his composure and looks back up at her. His voice is much calmer as he speaks again.

 “doesn't matter. The mission failed. We failed. We did everything right... everything” he says, she doesn’t hesitate and gently grabs his hand in her own. 

He looks at her hand on his own and let out a sigh, a smile forming on his face underneath the mask. 

“I'm not used to people touching me” he admits, looking at her, finding the moment oddly intimate. His voice is soft and quiet, and he looks at their hands, the moment suddenly feeling so important to him. “I've never been the type for affection or physical contact, not my thing”

“Oh god I'm so sorry!” she exclaims as she drops his hand. Simon looks at her and gently takes her small hand in his own. His actions saying the words he couldn’t. He looks back up at her, noticing your flustered face, and finds himself unable to look away. Her cheeks, glowing in the moonlight, her green eyes, filled with light and curiosity, and her face, slightly flushed with embarrassment. 

He felt himself drawn to her in an almost primal way. He could swim in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her close.

“We were outnumbered, we fought to the fucking death. But we lost. I was taken the leader and tortured for information” he says placing his free hand on his ribs as he closes his eyes, remembering the pain. She squeezes his hand, showing him that she was there. 

“I was able to escape but I lost them all, I lost a part of myself. I gained a higher ranking. Lieutenant Simon Riley. Fucking sicking”

“what about your family?” she asks 

“They were collateral damage…” he says as he drops her hand, noticing the sun rising, a small glow lighting her face. “The leader warned me if I came after him that it would happen. He killed em’ all. My mum, my little brother, my nephew, his wife, even my son of a bitch father, dead cuz of me” 

She raises a hand to her mouth in horror, tears fill her eyes as she starts to piece it all together. It made so much sense now, why he was this way. “god Simon, I'm so sorry, I don't even know what to say”

“Ain’t nothin to say” he says emotionally 

“What happened to the leader? Did you catch him?”

“I hunted down each and every one of em’. Took some time but I got the fucker. I killed him and whatever remained of Simon Riley that day. Wasn’t long until Price found me, and recruited me for the task force” 

“How do you live with it all?” she asks

“I’m not the person to ask” he says honestly, watching as her face falls in disappointment. 

“I know it's hard” he sighs putting his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes and leaned back, his hand resting on his head. “Sometimes I wish things didn't go the way they did... but life has a funny way of showing you who you are” 

He pauses, thinking about how to say this last part. “I’m the last person you should be taking advice from, but one thing I do believe is that shit happens for a reason. It fucked but now I’m here, doin’ the best I can, bloody hell I’ve saved some people along the way. That’s what matters”

“you're saying that I'm gonna have this big revelation about myself now?” she asks 

“there's a chance” he murmurs, sitting up and looking at her. “do you want to know how I know things will get better for you?”

“Enlighten me”

“because you already have everything you need to survive, it seems to me that people are so afraid to fail to the point that they don't even try. everyone wants to blame something else for their problems because it's easier than accepting fault, right? But in the end, it's all about perspective. You're a bright person, and the fact that you're here right now shows that you're strong enough to make it to the next day. you're a survivor, and that's something to be proud of. And one day, you’ll look back on this time in your life, and you'll realize it was all about perspective” He pauses for a moment, wondering how that sounded. He looks over at her and finds a small, genuine smile. “It’s not gonna be easy, you’re gonna miss her every day, but that pain is gonna be what drives you, live your life, for you and for her”

“I don’t know how to do this without her, I’m scared to go home, knowing that it’ll never be the same” she admits 

“No it won’t” he agrees, knowing that she didn’t want a bullshit answer that would make her feel better. 

“do you take your own advice? or are you just saying this to make me feel better?” she asks 

“I have a lot of demons inside of me. And I still have a lot to work on” He looks over at her, expecting a smart remark or a joke, but she doesn’t say anything, just giving him a subtle nod. “but even I can admit that what I said was truthful, as cheeky as that sounds”

“I appreciate it nonetheless”

“look, let's be honest here. I'm just trying to distract you long enough so I can steal that bracelet you're wearing” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood

“here, take it” she says handing it over to him without hesitation. 

“No I couldn’t” 

“I wouldn't have offered if I didn’t want you to have it, take it so you have something to remember me by” 

Simon takes the bracelet, noticing the beauty and simplicity of it. The moss agate stone glints in the light, its color a symbol of their connection. He puts it on his right wrist, the stone warm to the touch from how she’d been holding it. 

“I'll remember this forever”

“don't get sappy on me now Simon!” she exclaims, pushing him gently as a smile crosses her face. He laughs. 

“I'm a soldier, not a poet, alright? what do you say we get back inside?”

Simon stands and offers his hand to her, helping her up, she gingerly takes his hand and stands to her feet. He gestures for her to go ahead of him, letting her take the last step before he closes the distance between them and grabs the door handle to open it for her. 

“thank you for sitting with me, and for letting me talk. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you trusted me with your story. You are truly one of a kind, and I can’t tell you how much I respect you. I don't know how you did it but I feel like I might actually be okay, so thank you for that”

“you're welcome, love” the words come out quietly but sincerely, almost a whisper.  We're slowly nearing the doorway and hear talking from inside the trailer. As we walk in, we see Gaz, Price, and Soap leaning against the wall and talking amongst each other. The three of them look over at us for a second, with Price and Soap glancing at him and smiling. He gives them a nod, and the three of them turn back around and continue talking.

“they're up early” she comments 

“we have a mission today”

“that's right” she muses

Simon walks her to her room, a comfortable silence falling between them as they both realize that this may be the last time they see each other. She’d be flying back to Washington the next morning, unsure if she’d ever be back. 

“Hey” he asks as they near her room, she pauses and looks at him.  

“Yes?”

“can I ask you... a favor?”

“of course” she says 

“don't let yourself be consumed with anger and regret, its no way to live”

“I won't, as long as you do the same”

“okay. well, I guess that's a deal then”  

“good luck today, if I don't see you before I leave. stay safe, take care of yourself”

He nods in response, taking in every small detail about this moment. Her smile, how her orange hair frames her face and falls down her shoulders in beautiful long waves, the sound of her voice, the glimmer of her eyes in the light.

“Always” he responds 

He watches as she opens her door and slips inside. He says nothing more,  standing there for a moment as it occurs to him that I might not see her again. He takes a deep breath and starts to head back towards his own room, thinking about what just happened.

#cod mw2 #smut #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley #angst #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty #warfare #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mwii #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod ghost #ghost #soap cod #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #call of duty mw3

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 9

Masterlist

Warning: angst with a little fluff, drinking, mention of death and bone marrow transplant

Note: italicized sentences are text messages

Word Count: 3.3k

The couple was waiting for you at their dining room table. Pepper was sipping on a mug, and Tony had a glass of whiskey, but it was untouched. There weren’t many times you got in trouble with your mom. You were a good kid - you listened to your mom’s rules and stayed out of trouble. Sometimes, you liked to test her patience by sneaking out of the house to go to a party or talking back. You were a kid, after all. On nights you sneak out, your mom would sit on the couch with a glass of wine in her hands, waiting to ensure you got home safe. This felt like one of these talks. You sighed, sat in the empty chair, and rested your sketchbook on the table. You wished Morgan was here; maybe they would go easier on you. “So,” you broke the silence. “Can we get the yelling and the lecture over with you?” You asked.

“We aren’t going to yell at you,” Pepper said. Oh. Well, you were a little surprised by that. “We are just concerned.” You sighed, glancing up at the billionaire across the table.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty, can I say something?” The couple nodded. “When my mom died, I didn’t handle it well. She was the only person that stayed constant in my life; friends and other people came and went, but she was always there. So when I lost her, it broke something inside me, and I ran,” you looked up. “Then I got sick, and this sickness forced me to reach out to people and create relationships I swore off. But you make it so hard because you care about me. You’ve known me my entire life. I’m sorry, Tony, I shouldn’t have said that to you,” you apologized. Tony sighed.

“We all care about, kid,” he said. “Watching you the past few days has been on all of us.” You nodded. “We wanted to tell you I found a match.” Your eyes widened in shock. A match? Did he say he found a match? But the odds were so low you weren’t sure it was possible.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“That’s what we wanted to talk about,” Pepper said, looking at her husband. “It’s Morgan.”

“No,” you sputtered. “Not happening. No way.”

“Kid-” Tony pleaded.

“No!” You cut him off and stood up; the force made the chair fall over. You’ve read about bone marrow transports when Dr. Carpenter said you needed one. These cells were taken from the pelvis or breastbone through a needle. The area was numbed, but they couldn’t numb it near the bone. Some people who went through it felt no pain, while others felt the experience was more painful than they expected. You knew everyone’s experience would be different, but you wouldn’t subject your half-sister to that. “It’s my body, so I get the final say, and I’m not using her.”

“Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Tony questioned. “If you don’t get a bone marrow transplant, you’ll die.” You knew that. Of course, you did. During every visit with Dr. Carpenter, he reminded you.

“There is a Plan B,” you reminded him.

“Plan B doesn’t guarantee you’ll live,” he slapped his hand on the table. The force shook the table. “This does.”

“I don’t care,” you said. “I’m not doing it.”

“You’ll die.” He repeated.

“I’m not afraid of death,” you admitted, chest rising and falling rapidly. It was like you ran a marathon. “It doesn’t scare me.” Your confession was met with horrible, tense silence. “So if I die, so be it. I’m not using her.” Tony was standing now, hands resting on top of the table as he stared at you. A range of emotions flashed through his eyes-anger, sadness, guilt.

“Attention all Avengers,” FRIDAY cut through the silence. “All Avengers must report to the Quintet immediately.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony mumbled. You felt the tension from the conversation leave your shoulders.

“Go,” you whispered. “We’ll talk when you get back.” He looked between you and his wife. Pepper nodded. Sighing, he kissed Pepper and then placed a kiss on top of your head. The action caught you off guard, and he raced to the elevator. Soon, it was just you and Pepper. The whiskey Tony left sounded pretty tempting, but the CEO stood up, grabbed the glass, and walked over to the kitchen. “Did that go as planned?” You asked. She whipped down the glasses before looking at you, crossing her arms.

“I knew you were going to refuse to use Morgan,” your eyebrows raised in question. “You love that girl too much to see her in pain.” You chuckled and nodded your head.

“I told you both the truth,” you whispered. “I’m not afraid to die.” She nodded, slowly dropping her arms and walking over to you.

“I know you aren’t,” she squeezed your hand. “But the people that care about you are.”

*

You needed a break. After your talk with Pepper, you made a beeline to your room and packed a bag. While you were doing that, FRIDAY sought a train ticket to DC. You got extra clothes, medication, toiletries, and a sketchbook. “Miss. Easton, I found a ticket. Shall I book it and bill it to Mr. Stark’s credit card?” You smiled, slipping on your backpack.

“Yes, FRIDAY, send me the confirmation,” You texted your friend, Chelsie, to see if she could pick you up from the train station. Since you were looking down, you ran into someone when you left your room.

“Ow,” Morgan whined on the ground in front of you. You stared at her, a little confused about her sudden appearance, but her bottom lip started to shake, and you snapped out of it. Quickly, you put your phone away.

“Oh, Your Majesty,” you helped the young girl and pretended to dust her off. “I am sorry. Please forgive me. Oh, if the king hears about this, he’ll surely have my head,” the sound of her giggles echoed on the quiet floor.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you sighed in relief, dramatically whipping the sweat off your forehead, but Morgan pouted. “Where are you going?” You sighed. The plan was to sneak out of the tower and text everyone that you were on a train to DC.

“Just on a short trip to visit some friends. I’ll be back soon,” you thought it was a simple enough explanation for her; however, her brown eyes started to swell up with tears. “Hey, hey,” you knelt to be at her level. “No tears, sweetheart,” a few escaped her eyes, and you pushed them away. “What’s got you so upset?”

“You lied to me,” you did? “You said the doctors made sure you were healthy, but you are sick,” you regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth. “I don’t understand.”

“Come here,” you picked her up, grabbed a napkin, and sat on the couch with the emotionally distraught girl on your lap. You used the napkin to whip her cheeks. “Okay, first, I’m sorry that I lied to you. Can you forgive me?” She nodded. “Second, I am sick, but it’s harder to fight this sickness with normal medication. This medicine makes me feel all icky even though it’s helping. Does that make sense?” The girl slowly nodded. You weren’t sure if she did understand.

“When will you get better?”

“That’s the thing,” you spoke slowly. “I’m not sure. I’m going to be sick for a bit, but I promise on days when I feel good, we’ll play together,” you tickled her belly, and once again, the girl dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Can we play when you get back?” You tapped her on the nose.

“Of course!” She jumped off your lap and demanded another hug as you waited for the elevator.

“Gonna miss you,” she mumbled. Her little arms hugged your leg.

“I’ll miss you too,” you ruffled her hair, and she released your hold so you could get on the elevator. She waved goodbye until the doors closed. “FRIDAY, make sure Pepper knows where her daughter is.”

“Right away Miss. Easton.”

*

It was a quick taxi ride to Grand Central Station, and you made it just in time to board your train. FRIDAY got you a window seat with no one next to you, so you took your sketchbook and headphones out of the bag. Out of all the forms of transportation, trains were your favorite. They were slower and provided a bit more planning, but you loved to sit back and watch the world go by. Sending a quick text to Pepper and Tony telling them where you were, you put your headphones on and played some music.

For some reason, your mind wandered to the 4-year-old girl who thought the world of you. She wanted another story, to play fairy princesses, and missed you. She missed you. You’ve only been in her life for a few days, and she missed you. What was going to happen if Plan B failed? No, you refused to think like that. You were determined and confident that it would work. Dr. Carpenter and the rest of your medical team were some of the most intelligent people. You trusted them with your life. So, if they suggested a treatment plan, you could give it your all.

Sighing, you tapped your pencil on the table in front of you. If there was downtime on your little trip, you could plan a new story to tell Morgan—one filled with action, adventure, and romance.

Your phone buzzed and broke you out of your daydream. You half expected it to be the couple demanding you to return to the tower, but it was text from a number you hadn’t saved. ‘Did you get into a fight with your old man?’ The text read. Your phone buzzed again. ‘Because he’s moody. That would be amazing if you could refrain from upsetting him before a mission.’

“What the hell?” You mumbled. ‘Who is this???’ You replayed.

The response was instant, ‘It’s Blondie, your favorite Black Widow,’ you rolled your eyes. “How the hell did she get your number?” Another message. ‘Don’t tell Natasha that.’ You laughed, saving her contact. ‘So, what happened between you and Stark?’ You sighed, looking out the window. You weren’t sure if you wanted to open that can of worms.

‘You’ve been avoiding me, why?’ You asked instead. The three dots kept appearing and disappearing.

‘Answering a question with a question, smart,’ you chuckled. ‘I don’t know why. It’s hard to explain.’

‘So complicated,’ she sent you two laughing emojis. ‘The fight between Tony and I is complicated.’

‘Is that why you left the tower?’ You were annoyed she knew so much about you, but you knew another about her. It was in her training, right? To know everything about the people around her.

‘I just needed a break,’ you told her. ‘I’m on my way to DC to visit some friends.’ She then read the message but didn’t respond. Odd. ‘Where are you headed to?’ You asked. The three dots appeared.

‘Can’t tell you,’ you frowned. ‘We were called to help other members of the team. They’ve noticed people going missing.’ Missing people? That was never good.

‘Just be careful.’

‘Do you care about me, Easton?’ You could hear the teasing tone in her voice as if she was in front of you. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile.

‘Nah, besides, you’re my second favorite Black Widow,’ you teased. She sent two shocked emojis. ‘I’m just kidding. You are my favorite. I have to keep your ego in check.’

‘My head is so big it can barely fit through the door,’ you laughed out loud, receiving a few looks from the other passengers. You apologized with a smile.

‘Just be careful, you dork.’

‘I will promise.’

*

“There she is!” Chelsie said, running over to you. She picked you up and spun you around in a circle. You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s reaction. “You look good, girlie. I bet you must keep all the ladies away with a 10-foot pole.” She teased and took your backpack for you.

“I got no time for the ladies,” you said, following her to her purple jeep. You were always jealous of the car. You jumped into the passenger seat. “How have you been?” You met Chelsie at a bakery you used to visit when you wanted a new place to study. She knew your order, my heart, and would sneak leftovers to you when her dad wasn’t looking. A fast friendship was created that gave your mom a few extra gray hairs, but you loved the girl.

“So,” she said. “Are you hungry? I can get the old crew back together.” The old crew was a group that consisted of eccentric artists who loved to party and create with one another. You weren’t sure if they had an off switch, but they were some of the kindest people you’ve ever met. You haven’t seen them since your mom passed away. It would be good to see them.

“Sure, set it up,” Chelsie smiled.

“Voice command,” she ordered her blue tooth. “Send a text to the group chat ‘Triple Threat’ - everyone meet at Harvest in an hour.” You took your phone out and sent a text to the Black Widow and Tony, telling them you were picked up by your friend. “Are you texting the old man?” You laughed, locking your phone.

“Yeah, I have to make sure he knows you didn’t kidnap me,” your friend playfully slapped you.

“Tony Stark,” she said slowly. “I can’t believe that man got with your mom,” it was a little shocking to you, too. “What’s he like?” You chuckled, leaning back in your seat, and watched the city you once called home go by.

“Honestly, he’s been great,” you said. “Better than I thought he would be, but-” your voice trailed off.

“He’s not your mom?” Chelsie guessed and stole a glance at you.

“Is it bad that I keep comparing how he’s doing and reacting to how she would?” She shook her head.

“I think it’s human nature to look for similarities when differences surround us,” she grabbed your hand. “It does not make you a bad person. It just makes you human.”

*

“Lil’Picasso,” Jeffrey cheered, standing up from the chair and causing a small scene in the small restaurant, but that was the nature of being friends with the Triple Threats - they were extra loud but so full of love. Chelsie drove to her apartment, and you showered before heading to the Harvest. Everyone in the crew had a nickname. Yours was Lil’Picasso. Jeffrey was deemed the Mad Hatter, or Hatter for short, for his love of sewing. You hugged him first, then Michelle, the photographer of the group, Kandis, the writer, and finally Austin, who was famous on the streets of DC as Ghost, a graffiti artist. They were all super talented, your people, and one day, they would change the world. You felt bad for leaving like you did. Michelle and Jeffrey were part of the population that lost five years of their life.

“I see the Big Apple has changed you so much,” Michelle teased, pinching your cheeks as you sat beside them. “I barely recognize you.” You slapped their hands away.

“Shut up, mirror,” you laughed. Kandis filled your glass with water from the pitcher. You thanked her with a smile. “You guys have to come and visit. We can see a Broadway show.”

“Is Stark paying for it?” Austin asked. “We are broke, starving artists.” You could talk the billionaire into booking a hotel and paying to see a Broadway show. The waiter came over and took your order. You got a simple salad, wondering if you could stomach your usual. Once he left and brought back brake oil, Kandis hit your leg under the table to get your attention.

“So, the Avengers,” she said, spreading butter on the bread. “Are they as hot as they are on TV? Or are they hotter in person?” You rolled your eyes. “Hey! I’m not blind. They are good-looking.”

“I mean, yeah,” your mind immediately went to the blonde Black Widow, but you chased that thought away. “They are good-looking.”

“Who is it?” Chelsie asked. You hummed in question, sipping on some water. “Who did you think about when Ink asked you that?”

“No one,” you lied. That was the other thing. It was impossible to lie to this group. It was like they had a sixth sense for it. “Look, there is someone, but nothing has happened.”

“What’s her name?” Jeffrey asked.

“I don’t know,” your friends stared at you. “It’s a running but between the two of us. I call her Blondie.”

“Awe,” Michelle said. “That’s adorable.” You chuckled.

“Enough about me. Tell me about you guys. Book any gigs. Avoid the police?” Austin had a few close calls with the authorities. So they began to fill you in on everything that wasn’t posted on social media. Even when the food came, the conversation didn’t stop. There was so much to catch up on. Your heart ached for this familiarity, but your phone vibrated in your pocket, pulling you out of the story. Chelsie was talking about a possible TV show she had booked. Glancing at it, under the table, was a picture from the blonde. She took a picture of Kate sleeping with a permanent marker close to her face. A second text popped up with a message, ‘Do I or don’t I?’ You chuckled softly.

‘Don’t!!! She’s gonna be so upset with you.’ You sent. She quickly followed up with an emoji of a girl shrugging her shoulders. ‘Your funeral.’

“Is it the new boo?” Jeffrey asked. You glared at him.

“She’s not my boo, Hatter,” you made the mistake of placing your phone on the table. Chelsie grabbed it. “Vogue, give it back.” You pleaded.

“Relax, Picasso,” she unlocked your phone. “I’m just taking a group photo.” She turned the phone around with your camera app open. “Everyone smile!” Michelle put their arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. Everyone had big smiles on their face while you deadpanned the camera. “Wow, it looks like you love behind here,” she did a few things with your phone and returned it to you. She sent it to the blonde with a text message - ‘Hi Blondie!!!’

“I hate you,” you put your phone in your pocket.

“We are trying to get the ball rolling,” Kandis said. “When was the last time you got laid?” You cringed.

“Not answering that.”

“That means a while,” Ryan mumbled. You threw a piece of half-eaten bread at him, which he caught in his mouth and stuck his tongue at you. The group laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile; you could never stay mad at them for long. Your phone vibrated again.

‘Blondie? Are you talking about me, Easton?’ Another message.

‘Also, you look thrilled to be there. Do you need me to save you?’ Such a simple question made your stomach drop. She wouldn’t leave her mission if she asked you to, right? She was teasing, messing around with you. You wouldn’t ask her anyway; people’s lives were at stake. Michelle rested their head on your shoulder and read the message.

“Damn, girl. She’s got it bad for you,” you pushed them away, which meant they fell into Jeffrey. He put his arm around them.

‘I think I’ll live,’ you texted back. ‘Besides, you have a more important mission than me.’ The dots kept disappearing and reappearing.

‘You will always be important,’ she wrote. ‘No matter what mission any of us go on.’

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

#second chance #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader