#“it's just a phase!” no it's not it's already been whole months and i'm still as sick about them

[esmiara]

Love confess-...oh!

Kind of a "sequel" to this, but it's really just about that one scene in fifteen.

[crheativity]

Hello there! I came across your blog and enjoyed reading your post about the Overblot Squad Plushie Parts. I was wondering if you would consider writing a Part 3 where the Squad discovers that their plushies have been stolen. It turns out that the culprits are their Vice Dorm Wardens - either Kalim (since Jamil is Vice Dorm Warden) or Ace (since Trey wouldn't do that). I'm curious to know how the Overblot Boys would react to this situation. Have a pleasant day/night!

SUMMARY: Someone took the Overblot Squad’s plushies! How do they react?

WARNINGS: T*cked in Riddle’s section, sorry if Malleus’ wasn’t that good, writing his was really tricky.

COMMENTS: Hehehehe as soon as I read this my immediate reaction was “oh they’re screwed.” 

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here.

He. Is. Ticked. ALL of Heartslabyul is on lockdown until he finds whichever culprit was bold enough to steal something from him! And stealing something that his beloved made from him? Heads are going to roll.

Riddle literally stops people from leaving Heartslabyul and searches every room himself. He, unsurprisingly, finds plenty of contraband, but doesn’t find his beloved plushy anywhere. He’s almost in tears. He really doesn’t want to tell you he lost it, but all hope seems to be lost-

That is, until Ace hands back the plushy with a sheepish apology. He explains that he had to drop something off in Riddle’s room and accidentally knocked the toy into the trash can. He stole it to clean it and was gonna sneak it back. He didn’t think Riddle would notice that quickly!

Ace still loses his head, but only for a week instead of a month, since he had good intentions. Riddle remains snippy at Ace for months afterwards, though.

Walking into his room, Leona realises that something is wrong. You - or at least, the plush you made for him - is missing. He spends around an hour searching his room for it and ends up being extremely irritated when all traces of it are gone. He doesn’t want to admit to his dorm members that he actually misses it, so he tries to sleep without it for a couple of days.

This makes him even more irritated.

Eventually, he wears himself down enough to ask Ruggie what had happened to it. Ruggie groans and explains that the smell of you coming from the plush and accessories was waaay too much for any normal beastman, and that he (along with other Savannaclaw members) had gotten fed up with it and hidden them.

Leona offers Ruggie 2,000 thaumarks to return them. Ruggie doesn’t think twice. 

Azul is sobbing ALL DAY. He is INCONSOLABLE. Octavinelle is getting embarrassed at the fact that their dorm leader - the best and brightest among them - is an uncontrollable mess over the fact that his toy is missing. But what can he do? That’s his best friend, gone! He’s looked everywhere and he can’t find it! What will his Angelfish say? He can’t bear to imagine the look on your face when he tells you he lost it!

He literally pays people to help him find the toy, yet no matter how much money he throws at them and no matter how hard they look, it’s just gone. It’s almost like someone stole it… no, he can’t think like that. If someone really did steal it, he’d probably never get it back! He just wants to hide in an octopus pot.

The Tweels are torn between thinking it’s hilarious and wanting Azul to shut up already. Eventually, Jade returns the plush, explaining that he thought it was fascinating and wanted to study it closer, yet didn’t think Azul would agree. (He also wanted to see Azul’s reaction to his favourite plushy being missing.) Azul is in TEARS of RELIEF and hugging that plushy. He refuses to let it out of his sight anymore. It will go with him (almost) everywhere. Floyd thinks the whole situation is hilarious and will NOT stop teasing him about it.

Jamil at first doesn’t seem like he’s phased. However, those who know him notice the ticks; the muscles in his face twitching with annoyance whenever he’s asked to do anything and the sarcastic comments he often thinks and not says become mutters under his breath instead. He becomes a lot more aggressive in his tasks - forgoing the typical, painstaking care he usually takes for finishing his tasks quickly and shutting everyone out.

He remains this way for several days. People start to get vibes from him and avoid him, which annoys him even more. He just can’t get it out of his head. Why is he so annoyed? Is it because every time he thinks of the missing doll, he thinks of you, upset at him for losing it (whether you actually are or not)? …maybe. He won’t let himself admit it either way. 

A couple of days later, Jamil finds the doll - sitting on Kalim’s bed. He’s immediately interrogating Kalim. Kalim happily explains that in trying to help out Jamil, he decided to try and help clean his room. He knows that the doll means a lot to Jamil, so he wanted to get it cleaned for him! Jamil appreciates it but he’s also this close to losing his temper. Please, just, next time, tell him first, okay? sheesh.

Vil is going to lose his mind. His doll has gone missing. He cannot find it anywhere. He’s already torn apart his room at least three times and called every single studio he’s done a photoshoot in or acted for in the past two months, asking if anyone had seen it. Yet no traces have been found. He has a headache. 

On top of that, Rook has been acting particularly frustrating recently - constantly checking up on his mood and popping out of the most random places. It’s almost as though the universe has coordinated this on purpose.

Wait.

Upon confronting Rook, Vil finds out that his theory was correct; Rook did in fact steal the plush. Apparently, he’d “wanted to see the beauty of Vil’s yearning for the precious thing his beloved made for him,” and so he’d hidden it for a while. Vil’s this close to shaking him by the shoulders, but at least he’s got the plush back.

Pookie? Pookie is missing! Uh oh, that ain’t good. He’s gotta find him, quick. The gacha banners are about to change and he already pre-farmed the mats needed for the character he wants. How’s he supposed to hit those 0.6% odds while without the Little Guy?

He’s tearing apart his room, trying to find the skrunkly before server reset. There’s no way he would’ve taken the toy outside to touch grass, right??? So it’s gotta be in here. Except it’s nowhere to be found. 

He’s about to give in to some totally cringe behaviour - going and looking for it outside - when Ortho shows up, holding the marketable plushie. Idia is snatching it from Ortho and spinning it around the room before flopping on his bed, before realising how cringe he just was. At least he can do his gacha rolls now?

(Ortho’s really confused. He just took it to wash. Did he do something wrong-? Oh well, as long as his brother’s happy now)

As soon as Malleus discovers the plush toy is missing, the rain starts. As he continues to look and ask around for it and doesn’t find it, the rain gets worse. Eventually, NRC has a full-blown hurricane on its hands. 

The weather stays like this for a good two days. Classes have been cancelled as asking students to walk across campus in that much of a downpour would lead to a school-wide riot. And Malleus is still sulking in the corner about his missing plushie.

That is, until a sheepish Lilia surprises Malleus with the plush. He explains that it must’ve fallen in with the laundry and gone through the wash. Since the weather has been so erratic lately, it had to go through the dryer too rather than be dried by the sun, which is why no one noticed where it was for so long.

The rain instantly clears. Malleus hugs his plush and decides to take her to visit you. All is right in the world again. 

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[gglitch1dd]

@genkioo submitted: Elloo Glitch!! This is my first ever post submission I just have something I wish to share and maybe put your own spin on it :)) So it's Shoyo's 3rd birthday, he's about to blow out his candles and then he says "I wish to be big brother" Izuku then glances at Y/N all smug but Y/N isn't even phased. The elder boys sighing in exasperation "great, here we go again" 😒 Cut to Izuku having to seduce convince (doesn't take much convincing on his part) his wife to have just one more little sprout 🌱

Hehehe, This is a good one.

Warning: Mentions of a past miscarriage, Izuku's raging breeding kink, hurt and comfort.

"-Happy birthday to you!" You all sang as Shoyo stood with a bright smile, his hands on the table as he looked at the star cake in front of him. Your little three year old was vibrating with excitement, looking just about on the cusp of an anerysm as he seemed just about to explode in happiness.

You chuckled as you looked over at your youngest son. You ran a hand through his curly hair as you stood with your boys there together. "Make a wish sweetheart."

Your sweet little boy looked up at you with bright green eyes, looking so excited. He looked so much like how Izuku looked at his age. Shoyo squeezed his eyes. "I wish..." He took a moment. "I wanna little brother."

Immediately you stiffened at the request, your face growing hot as your face fell. That wasn't the wish you thought he'd make.

Shoyo blew out his candles happily blissfully unaware of his request.

You fought the will to look at your husband but you failed as you looked up at Izuku. Looking at you with a smug left sided smirk on your face was Izuku. He moved his eyebrows up and down which made you laugh.

You didn't even get to speak when you heard a.

"NO!" You turned to Toshinori who sat at the opposite side of the table. He gave your husband a pointed look. "Respectfully, no! There's enough of us!" He pointed out to the four of them.

Izuku leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, putting his hands up innocently. "I never said anything." he stated despite looking the most smug you have seen him in a while.

"Yah but you were thinking something! Mom don't let that man touch you!"

"That man!?"

"Don't touch my mom!"

"Y/N please!"

You laughed at your husband as you packed away Shoyo's birthday cake into the fridge. Izuku had been begging you ever since the kids went to bed for the both of you to try again. "Izuku, we already have four boys." You reminded him.

"I know but we could always have more! I'm rich!" You chuckled as you turned to look at your husband who was motioning to himself with a bright smile. "Come on, what's one more little sprout?" He asked needly. "I promise you Y/N, we have one more and I'll never ask for another one again."

"We both know that's a lie." You stated.

"I'll even get my balls chopped off!" You looked back at him with unbelieving expression, both of you knowing that be was lying. "Please!" He begged putting his hands together. Watching your large husband who was over two hundred pounds of muscle and fat, beg you for another baby was humorous. "Just one more sprout."

You rolled your eyes as you stood against the counter. "That's a lot, Izuku. It's a whole six months of sleeping less, another sprout to drive everywhere, to enrol in school, to take and send to university. It's an over twenty-year commitment, and don't say that we have the money for it." You pointed out, making him close his mouth at the point he was going to make. "You're still very busy as the Number One and training Toshinori. Balancing four children is already a hassle as is."

You turned away from him, moving to wipe the counter of icing. Now it wasn't the fact that you didn't want another child, you loved every one of your sprouts and wouldn't regret them for the world. But, you weren't oblivious to the huge commitment that they were.

Besides, you knew you weren't exactly getting any younger. With four boys, a loving husband and a blessed amount of money all at the age of forty-one, you were ready to hang up the towel and call yourself happy with your life. You were a whole lot blessed than you ever thought you could be.

Izuku walked up to stand behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, and you knew you were done for. Slow kisses moved up your neck over to your ear. "Please..." He whispered in your ear, pressing his large tall body up against you, pressing you into the counter.

You closed your eyes as you tried to keep control of yourself. You took in a deep breath. "Izuku..."

"You know how much I love it when you're pregnant." He spoke lowly into your ear. His hands moved underneath your shirt, moving up and down your side. "You're so radiant and beautiful," He kissed your jaw. You let go of the cloth you were holding leaning back against his warm body as he held you. "So gorgeous as you're heavy with my child. There's nothing sexier." He whispered. "How you always..." You felt one of his hands sneak their way in front of you to cup your sex over your cotton shorts making you suck in a breath. You could feel the heavy bulge in his sweatpants calling your name that was against your ass. "You always get so needy when you're pregnant, sweetheart."

Hell, you were needy right now. A part of you wanted to just bend over the counter and let him have you. It had been a while since the both of you took sex out of your bedroom, for obvious reasons. It was late, the sprouts were asleep or at least in their rooms. You really could just risk it.

You moved a hand to rub behind his neck with a sweet hum at the thought of it all. Izuku treated you like a queen whenever you were pregnant. He would take so much time off of work to make sure that you were okay with the boys and Inko would often be here for the last few months of your pregnancy to help around the house especially with the boys.

However a thought struck you that made you still.

"Izuku..."

"Hm?"

"I'm not as young as I used to be, you know." You whispered. You didn't turn to face him, you didn't even try. You were quiet as you stared off to the outside. "Especially after Hero..." Your voice was quieter and you felt your husband stiffen.

You had both suffered a miscarriage a year after having Hero, who was currently now five. It was a scary moment, not because you were both particularly trying for a baby, but because it had never happened before. You had never been at high risk nor did you even know you were pregnant or for how long.

It was a terrifying moment in your life because you didn't know what was wrong and caring for a one year old by yourself while Asahi and Toshinori were in primary school, you didn't know what to do. It was after calling Mina who was luckily at home with Sero, did you leave Sero with Hero and Mina drove you to the hospital.

You had never seen Izuku look so terrified in his life.

You both had Shoyo two years later and when you did, it was an anxious time for the both of you but you were both so grateful when he was born a healthy little baby boy.

You were both silent as you stood in the kitchen. It felt heavy for a moment before Izuku moved you to look at him. "My love..." You looked up at him, his eyes looking at you genuinely warm and gentle. "If... if you really don't want to have another sprout, then we're done." You saw his eyebrows furrow as he looked at you deathly serious.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "No, Izuku, if you want-"

"No, I am dead serious. If you don't want to have another kid, I won't ever bring it up again." He stated seriously as he looked at you. "I might be the father of our children but you're their mother. Every single child we conceive together, you have a special relationship with them that I will never ever fully understand. If you are willing, we'll do this together, just like we always do. Even if we're scared."

You felt tears in your eyes as you gave him a smile. Surprisingly, one of the most attractive things your husband could ever do wasn't his body, or his job or even the photoshoots he did. It was when he was a good and loving husband and even a better father.

You blinked, letting tears fall as you nodded your head. Izuku smiled as he pulled you into his arms. You held him like that, enjoying his warm embrace as you rest your head against his chest. You heard the steady thump of his heart.

"One more." You whispered, nodding your head. "One more and then I'm finished."

"Are you sure?"

"Yah. Just one more sprout. Besides... I've missed seeing you hold a baby."

You could practically feel the smile on his face. "Really?" You nodded affirmitavely. "So just one more sprout?

"Just one more sprout."

-Glitch1d

[thedisablednaturalist]

Tw for weight loss mention

The whole exercise will cure your disability thing is a fucking joke. Yes exercise is beneficial for your health, but only if you aren't already on shaky foundations. You need to be on a treatment plan that WORKS before going into the maintenance phase. You wouldn't do regular maintenance on a broken item, you'd work on getting it up and running first. And maybe it would even need specialized maintenance afterwards if it's especially fragile.

I have fibromyalgia and acute degenerative disc disease. My immune system attacks my nerves and discs in my spine are slowly calcifying and causing the bones to constrict and damage my nerves (i think thats how it works). I have days where it feels like my body is on fire from nerve pain and days where it feels like my spine is about to rip from my back. And days where I have both (like today!). I get numbness in my hands and feet. I have horrible migraines. I can no longer walk unaided more than maybe 5 minutes without severe pain. I have something wrong with my knees and hips but the doctors don't know what yet.

You'd think I live an obviously seditary lifestyle correct?

Hell no.

I walk aided on average 6 miles a day over difficult terrain OUTSIDE of regular activity almost everyday. My legs are muscular and strong. I get my heart rate up and a good sweat, like all the gym rats swear on. I am often doing physical labor such as weeding, digging, sample collecting, pruning trees etc.

I'm not saying this to make other disabled people feel bad or prove that they can do anything if they just tried harder. This is an extremely painful lifestyle I've chosen that takes a lot of lifestyle management AND BOUNDARIES to keep up with the work. I also have an extremely forgiving boss who is also physically disabled and knows what I'm going through (deciding between your passion and your health and having to do so each and every day) No one should ever be expected to do what I do. I'm not even sure if I should be doing this myself.

This is to prove that exercise? Has not cured me. My muscles are strong but still hurt as if they're broken and I have to take more breaks than my coworker. I am constantly getting out of breath and I flare up regularly if I'm not careful. I am in excellent physical condition outside of my disabilities. I go to different doctors several times a month to get checked out.

I previously went through a diet program and lost a lot of weight (basically starving myself and got off my depression meds which cause weight gain but are also the only ones that work) and guess what? That didn't do shit either!!! I still felt horrible!!! I've since gained back the weight anyway after switching to focusing on adding more nutrient dense foods than taking stuff away from my diet (also muscle weighs more than fat, and fat helps cushion my aching joints and spine).

The muscle doesn't do shit for my disabilities outside of maybe some stability. Exercising everyday doesn't make the pain go away. Without my medications and aids and nutrition plans and steroid injections and spinal adjustments and physical therapy (that takes my fibro and spine into account) and alternative work methods I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT I DO. Exercise alone is like trying to make a car run with no oil. Yes it'll go but it'll get more and more damaged till it can't and will need its entire engine replaced!

And yet I see new doctors and they look at me and the first thing out of their mouths is do I exercise? I should try doing a little every day :) and then i fucking blow their minds when I tell them about my job. No longer can they use that fucking cop out on me. I've been through this rodeo. Ive tried their suggestions. If you are in pain and nothing is helping? Exercise ain't going to do SHIT. You need to get to a point where you can move without severe pain first (if that's even possible). Then and only then should you consider implementing regular exercise if you can. Also weight loss talk is a red flag and a cop out. They made me lose 50+ lbs before they would look into the reasons behind my pain. Weight loss did nothing for me and exacerbated my pain.

I am living proof that all that shit is a lie and a cop out. That is the point of this post. I cannot believe people with serious medical conditions are being forced to put their bodies through extreme duress just to be believed. You are not disabled because of laziness or because you sit a lot. Plenty of people live seditary lifestyles and do not live in constant excruciating pain (they may develop disabilities later in life due to this however, and should be doing preventative exercises to maintain their health)

Please, share my story with doctors. Use me as an example. I am proof that "exercise first treat later" does not work. I should not have had to wait years to have my pain validated. I'd rather hundreds of fakers get (what? A blood test? An MRI?) than one chronically ill person get told to try yoga and go away by a doctor.

[reallyromealone]

I sure can!

You're very welcome!

Also in this Mikey is still friends with his old friends

@kodasstar

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

(Name) was quiet as he sat up front with Takeomi, their son currently getting chewed the fuck out from the rest of the pack as the eldest alpha rested his hand on (name)s thigh, rubbing gently as he drove them home.

"You come from an Omega and yet you disrespect them?! Have we taught you nothing!" Koko said heatedly as (sons name) shrunk more, trying to make himself invisible from his parents lecturing because fuck did it hurt.

They were disappointed and angry with him but (name) still said nothing to him.

That's kind of what terrified the tween the most.

Mama hadn't said anything.

When they got home the alphas led (name) to the sitting area and made sure he was comfortable and smooched his forehead before going to sons room and literally taking everything that could possibly bring him entertainment out of his room as Ran ordered Omega rights books and books written by omegas (basically this universes version on feminist books and women's rights) and Rindō looked up classes that were sure to take up all his spare time outside doing homework "when these books come we want a report on what they were about and what you learned from them"

"B-but--"

"Do you really think arguing with us is the smartest move right now?" Mikey's voice was cold and thankfully (name) was away from earshot.

He knew (name) didn't like that voice even though it's never been directed at him.

Their son shut up at that and just silently fumed at this.

This made him hold a grudge against not just the student but omegas, he didn't understand why omegas were put on a pedestal and why his mama got away with Yelling at his dad's like that.

It didn't make sense for his dumb tween brain.

After all his stuff was locked up in the basement he was sent to his room for the night, dinner would be brought to him.

"Now..." Mikeys voice was soft as the men went to their mate who was fidgeting slightly "why didn't you tell us baby?"

"Which thing"

"Well first the whole Omega thing and then the pregnancy thing preferably" Ran said as they all got comfortable around their mate who looked down "You guys were really busy with that project and I didn't want to add more stress... I chose to stay at home so I could handle this...." (Name)s voice was meek as he avoided eye contact.

That 'project' aka drug trade was six months ago.

"He's been acting like an ass for that long?"

"I-I thought it was a phase ya know? Edgy teen stuff... He's apparently hanging out with these other elitist alphas and I don't know what happened "

The alphas watched (name) crumble and stepped closer "baby no matter how busy we seem you can always come to us... He's our kid too even if he's being a complete dick "

"Speaking of kids, bow long have you known about this one?" Mochi said pointing at (name)s stomach and the Omega blushed a bit "since my doctors appointment two days ago..."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was already stressed, I didn't know how to bring it up" (name) slowly looked up "I'm sorry alphas..."

"Just talk to us when you're dealing with stuff, ok?"

(Name) just nodded and the alphas were reluctant to let him cook dinner especially after the events that transpired but (name) managed to convince them so long as they could supervise.

They didn't want their pregnant omega lifting anything heavier than an egg.

Dinner took considerably longer with the Alphas trying to help him though none of them could cook by any means.

"I'm gonna take (sons name) his portion" Ran said grabbing a plate and a cup before going to their sons room, Mikey nosing at (name)s neck when he smelt the slight distress coming off him "don't worry baby, we will get him right"

"I just miss my pup..." (Name) mumbled and the family began eating, the Alphas trying to feed (name) more with the new information of a pup on the way.

Ran walked to their sons room, he was still pissed with him.

Treating his dam like that?

The person who loves him unconditionally and would die for him, just to turn around and belittle and treat them like a second class citizen.

Disgusting.

(Sons name) was stewing in his room, doing homework as ran set the food down and stared at him "you know despite your shit show, your dam still loves you" Ran said simply as he looked around his sons room before looking at the tween "even tried to have us go easy on you"

(Sons name) said nothing as he continued working "breaks coming soon, we will decide what you will be doing with your time off"

Ran left without saying anything else, returning to the others and smiling at his omegas much better mood.

When (name) went to bed the men gathered around the sitting room as now they would discuss the real punishment that would come when their pup would be on break.

They loved their kid, thus why they are sending him to work under the most terrifying Omega they all knew outside of (name) when they fuck up.

Nahoya Kawata.

Everyone in the room agreed he was not to be fucked with and maybe a few weeks with him and Souya would prove to show (sons name) that omegas weren't weak and definitely not to be fucked with.

Mikey would be making the call come morning as they went to go change for bed, smiling as they looked at their mate who was snuggled in the Alaskan king bed in one of their shirts.

They stopped buying (name) sleep attire unless it was for non sleep activities.

[sherifftillman]

17 from the fluff prompts with Eddie please!

+ also tagging @hellfirehoe ❤️

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (no pronouns/gendered terms)

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1425 (i know, i know, i said no 4-digit WCs but you'll see it was all needed)

Eddie had insisted that he doesn't want a birthday party. He never has, and he never will. An evening sitting around a fire with good friends, cold beer, and some of his little lunchbox's prime selection was more than enough of a celebration for him.

And yet, something about that never sat right with you. Sure, a boy goes through his teenage dirtbag phase and stops wanting children's-level birthday parties, but to have never wanted one? That's gotta be a lie.

While Eddie's at an extra credit class, you still go to the trailer. Wayne greets you with an, "Oh, hey, kiddo. Uh, Ed's not here right now, but you're more than welcome to wait, I can take an extra pizza out of the freezer if you want?"

"I'm good, thanks," you smile, "I'm actually here to see you. It's about Eddie's birthday."

"Ah, are you looking for ideas on what to get him?" Wayne calls out to you, head deep in the freezer compartment of his refrigerator.

"No, no, I already found him the perfect gift at a ren faire, I'm all good on that front," you nod.

"It's not a ring, is it?" Wayne smirks, and you scoff.

"No! Besides, wouldn't that be his job?"

"I dunno," Wayne shrugs. "He's always been unconventional. Plus, if it gets you into the family quicker..." he points to you and you laugh.

"It'll happen someday, Wayne, I'm sure of it." Your reassurance lights up his face. You love how much he loves his nephew. "So, I thought about throwing him a part-"

Wayne sucks a breath in. "That's a bad move, kid. He doesn't do that."

"I know, but why?"

"Well," Wayne takes a deep breath in. "He was turning 6, and he'd never had one. So I told him I'd throw him one, however he wanted. He wasn't living with me, mind, but y'know. A boy can't go six years without one party. Anyway, Eddie being Eddie, kid goes ham. Makes a whole scrapbook. He wanted his party to be a - a story he played out. Kings and knights and monsters, you know the drill. Anyway, he was out front writing in his book when some of the... Less savoury kids came up and took it straight from him. Threw it in a puddle and called him names for months. He never wanted one after that."

"Wayne," you start in a serious tone, "I'm going to make it my mission to invent time travel, just to boot those little shits right in their faces."

"Good," Wayne grins. "You know... I did manage to salvage his little book... You wanna see it?"

Your face lights up, "Please!"

He gets you the book, pages stained and stiff from being soaked, dried and abandoned for years. Ideas buzz in your head, and you excuse yourself to quickly head to wherever you could start writing your own notes.

~~~

"Babe, you know I just wanted things to be casual today," Eddie groans from the passenger seat of your car.

"I know! And I said you need to trust me!" you retort.

Eddie side-eyes you. "My idea of an ideal birthday, amazingly, doesn't exactly include me hanging out at Steve's big ol' mansion."

"Given the way you two make googly eyes at each other, you could have fooled me," you grin, and Eddie flips you off affectionately. You bat his hand away with a laugh. "Besides, this isn't Steve's mansion."

As you pull up, Eddie sees that Steve's front gate is covered up with cardboard. Specifically, cardboard cut and painted to look like castle walls. As you stop the car and get out, Eddie follows far slower, mouthing, "What the fuck?"

As you walk into the driveway, Steve approaches you both, wearing a crown made of cardboard and a cape made of the Wheelers' old curtains. "By the heavens! Is that Sir Edward I see?!" You initially thought that casting Steve as the king in this scenario was hilariously fitting, but his idea of acting is just shouting his words.

Eddie tries desperately not to let the laugh bubbling at his lips escape them. "Um, sure?"

"Why, it can't be! Mine own knights will fall to their knees at the sight of such a legend, returned at last! And in our hour of need, too! I fear the Curse of Monsterkind has fallen upon my kingdom! Only a knight such as you could save us!" Steve shouts. "With your trusted bard by your side to write songs of your victories, no less!"

Eddie looks at you and cocks his eyebrow. You shrug, "I had to insert myself somewhere into this narrative. Recognise it?"

Eddie's face falls into a soft smile. "I love you so much." He leans in as though to kiss you, but Steve interrupts with an improvised monotonous yell to progress the game.

"Are thou both ready to face the plague, or are thou still being gross?"

You watch with delight as Eddie slays the "troll" (Mike with his hair sprayed in all directions) with a cardboard sword that his "most faithful follower" (Max dressed up just like Eddie) had "kept hold of for all these years"; helps the "witch" (Nancy wearing an old Halloween outfit) find ingredients to a love potion that, once made, he had to secretly slide into the "knight's" (Robin's) "armour" (cardboard outfit wrapped in aluminium foil); and answers the "centaur's" (Dustin, who had fought long and hard for his role, in front of Lucas wearing half a costume horse) riddles to gain spellcasting abilities.

Despite this all being part of his own story, Eddie still reacts at the big twist being that the king had placed the curse all along, hoping it would attract and indeed kill the famed Sir Edward the Freak. You join in with Nancy, Robin, Max and Dustin (with Lucas in tow) clapping and yelling encouragements as Eddie delights in swinging his sword around and pretending to cast spells. Mike, not wanting to break character, remains where he lay "dead", but even he can't resist watching. You can almost see Eddie's inner child bursting out of him. It almost makes you cry.

Finally, Eddie lays the final blow into King Steve the Cursebringer, who very dramatically falls to the ground and gasps many a final breath before stopping. The remaining crowd cheers for Sir Eddie the Hero, but he grins. "No, no. I shall wear my old name with honour. Sir Eddie the Freak!" He holds his fake sword high above his head, and the rest of you repeat after him in a chant.

He starts to well up, and at looking down to make eye contact with you, he pulls you into the tightest of hugs, sobbing ever so gently into your shoulder. "I love you... Eternally for this," he whispers shakily in your ear, pressing a kiss just below it.

You squeeze him, "You too, Eds. I'm so glad you enjoyed that. Now, you ready for your prize for defeating the big bad guy?"

Eddie smirks, "Is it the hand of my beautiful sidekick?"

"Must thou continue to be gross even as I lay dead?" Steve shouts again in that monotone, making everyone laugh.

"Shut up and stand up, Steve, and go get my present, wherever you put it," you command. He gets up to run into his house, quickly reappearing with a long box. Eddie's eyes light up with how big it is.

He tears the wrapping paper off excitedly, like a kid at Christmas, but looks confused when the box comes into view. "A vacuum cleaner. Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, half-amused and half-confused.

You laugh, "It was the only box that fit it. C'mon, I'm getting impatient!"

He opens up the box and gasps, loud, dramatic, Eddie. He looks at you with an ecstatic excitement, beaming as he slowly brandishes the metal sword you'd bought for him months ago. "You bought me a sword?! Oh man, I am gonna be so dangerous!" His eyes light up with a mischief you've never seen in them before.

Steve laughs nervously as he drops the box, "Uhh, hey, Eddie, it's just me, remember! Your g-good pal, ol' Steve Harrington. No curses or anything here!"

Eddie's grip tightens on the sword as he holds it upright, grinning wickedly at Steve. "Get to running, big boy."

You laugh as you watch Steve run away in panic, followed by the love of your life chasing after him while laughing maniacally, finally having the birthday he always deserved.

[thetopichot]

•° The Middle Ground °•

☆ Chapter 1 ☆

*Runs on all fours* Hi SHIT I've been still working on this. Writer's block is a bitch. Anyway, *Throws this at you* enjoy. Also sorry if the food is little burnt, I wanted to pushed this out before the end of the month. *Runs away*

Word Count: 2.1k words

After the calamity that happened in the shop, you both went on that fall evening picnic date that you both planned awhile back. Finn absolutely adored fall since it's when he gets more inspired to cook his little pumpkin breads, more tea recipes, & he starts to get into his little hibernation phase which you always find adorable. You guys deserved it after a bit of a long day but with the questions that you still had in mind, might make it get even longer. You both prepared your little fall picnic under the park's willow tree with your checkered picnic blanket & a basket. You both laid back onto the blanket & began to gaze at the stars.

Finn sighed & fidgeted with his fingers as he stared at the stars in the sky. "Today has been a long day, hasn't it?" Finn broke the silence.

"Yeah it has." You answered awkwardly. You still felt bad about the situation that happened earlier today. "Hey, Finn?" Finn hummed in response.

"I'm sorry for what happened during the shop today. The dude...um damn. What was his name again, babe?" 

"Auron, darling."

"Yeah, Auron! That asshole really pissed me off." Well, apparently he pissed you off so much that you legit forgot about his name. "He is such a snobby prick & the way he treated you is just UGH. He treated you like you were just a damn peasant or like-"

"I was just there for one purpose?" Finn sat up on the blanket & curled his legs up. His face was exhausted, but he still had his soft smile. "Yeah, I know." You frowned at his voice. "You eventually get used to it when you work in service jobs. Your whole thing is just being a punching bag for people."

You sat up & leaned closer to Finn. "You have to deal with insults about almost everything. Like no matter what you do, it's always wrong. Then, eventually, you get used to the disrespect that is given, even though you always give them the respect that everyone deserves."

"That's just how service works. You deal with verbal abuse almost every day, but in the end, if you do anything about it, you're always in the wrong." Finn laid his head on top of his knees. "So I don't really care about what he said to me. It was just business." You rubbed his back.

"Finn. No one has the right to treat you like that. I don't care if they're a customer, friend, or family, no one should treat you like that ever. Period." You gently held his face in your palm & turned him to look at you. "Has Auron always treated you like that?"

Finn chuckled softly. "No. Not at all, actually." You were confused by the answer since that didn't really add up. "He actually treats me with the upmost respect. He enjoys hearing my flower facts. I just don't know why he acted out like that today."

"In a mood or not, he's still an asshole for saying that to you." You sighed. "Finn, you have to give yourself more self-respect. You're more than just a worker. You're a person." Then the long silence between you two began.

However, it wasn't really those long awkward silences. It was a silence of both thought & comfort. It was silence that was needed. As the silence went on, he stared at the black card that had been left by Auron earlier. The white font practically glowed in the moonlight. 

Why would he leave his card here? It was pretty obvious that Finn wouldn't be interested in getting a job since he already had one. Maybe you could call this number?

"Finn." He turned to look at you. You showed him the black card that you kept on you. "Let's call this number." He raised a eyebrow.

"Why?" He squinted to read the card. "Don't you already have a job already?" He paused to think. "Unless you're trying to juggle 3 jobs? Which I don't really recommend you doing. I tried to when I was helping my dad when it was his flower shop."

You shaked your head. "No? Maybe this might be his number?" Finn got even more confused.

"I doubt that, darling. That phone number could just lead to some operator at the end of the line & it's like what? 9 pm & it's a Sunday. Almost everything is closed right now!" Finn asserted.

"Hmmmm." You thought naught about the consequences & decided. "Yeah, I'm going to do it." Finn exhaled as there wasn't much he could do. "& maybe.." You added. "You could cuss him out for the way he treated you."

Finn was taken aback. "What? No! Why would I do that? That's just being plain petty."

"Being petty never really hurts, ya know." You said with a devilish grin, but it was soon shot down by Finn's 'Come on, now' look. "Or maybe just a little bit?"

"Darling, no. That conversation that happened earlier is done. We should just forget what happened & just accept the situation like the bending willows." You frowned.

"Well, alright." You put the phone down. "But I'm just saying it would be a good idea to call this number. I don't think he gave it to you for no reason." Finn considered that thought. 

"Hand me the card, please." You did as he asked you. You handed the black card & Finn took a gander at it. Maybe you were right about calling the number. He grabbed his phone from his pocket & you smiled at him.

"So, you're going to call the card?" 

"Yes, but I'm not going to do anything petty." He said sternly, but that sternness soon turned into dread. "But what do I say though? I don't think I've talked to a customer outside of work."

"A-HEM." You coughed loudly.

"I mean besides you, plus when we went somewhere to have a conversation, we never really talked on the phone about it beforehand." That gave you an idea.

"You should invite him for some tea, then."

"What?"

"Yeah, invite him for some tea! Like you did with me." Finn laid back down on the blanket awkwardly as he groaned. "Come on, babe. I doubt it's going to be that bad. Well, if you cut out the tea spilling thing then yeah everything is going to be fine." His phone covered his face as he just felt the weirdness of talking to him.

You laid sideways next to Finn. "But if he treats you like shit again, I will kick his ass for real this time."

"That doesn't really help, dearest." 

"Listen, I'm just saying & to be honest, I might kick his ass anyway because he's a dick."

"You JUST met him today."

"Okay &? I'm about to throw hands the next time I see him." Finn groaned even louder as he turned to the side. You rubbed the side of his waist. "But you should still go talk to him. You have the card in your hands." Finn took one quick look at the black card again.

Finn finally gave in. "Fine, but I will not be a happy camper if it either goes to voicemail or it's just a operator on the line." You smiled. Finn dials the number on his phone, '717-XXX-XXXX'. His phone vibrates for about 3 seconds. Then 4. Now 5.

The phone picks up & Finn puts it on speaker.

"Welcome to the Talent Agency. How may I help you today?"

It wasn't his voice, sadly. It was a feminine voice on the line. It wasn't high-pitched, but it was a rich voice with a hint of gentleness.

Finn could've hung up from there since it wasn't the result that anyone was hoping for, but for some reason, something in him possessed him. A voice told him to continue the call.

"May I speak with Auron?" The lady on the line went silent but you could both hear typing, so there was some hope left.

"Who am I speaking with?" The lady sounded suspicious towards Finn as the sounds of typing stopped, but to be fair, you wouldn't send some randos to your boss. It would be a waste of time & annoying.

"Finn. From Talk Floral...?" Finn's response sounded worried. Like if you were dialing some random code in & praying that it would work. Finn cheesed so awkwardly & squinted his eyes like he was prepared to be slapped in the face with disappointment.

"Oh! Finn? Sorry, dear. I didn't recognize you. It is late after all." Your eyes both widened at the lady's response. Finn recognized the voice better, but you were even more confused than before.

"How many people do you know?" You mouthed quietly.

"A lot. It's been awhile." He mouthed back quietly. "Heyyyyy, Trish! It's been awhile, huh?"

"It sure has been, honey. I'm assuming he gave you the company card?" He both looked at the black card & some things were kinda starting to add up but at the same time, more questions than answers here.

"Yes & I was also wondering if I could go to Auron?" Finn asked.

"I would, but he's out of the office. He doesn't stay for long."

"Then why are you still at the office if he's gone?"

"I don't slack, you know. I'm just finishing up some leftover memos & emails that need to be sent tomorrow. However, it is nice to hear from you, Finn. Always been a joy to talk to!" He smiled at that compliment & looked at you.

"The teaaaaaaaa dateeeeee." You whispered.

"O-Oh! Um, is it possible to set up an appointment with him? Sometimeee?"

"Yeah, I can schedule that, but I have to let him know first. Can't be setting up blind dates as funny as that would be." Finn's face flushed.

"NONONONO IT'S NOT A DATE-" Trish chuckled on the other line.

"Jesus, ya sound like him. 'It's not a date, it's a business trip.'" She mocked Auron's voice. "But yeah, don't worry I'm just messing with you." Finn sighed loudly as he just laid down onto the blanket in exhaustion. "Don't worry, dear. I can try, key word: try honey, to see if he's willing to join you. Can't make any promises to you."

"If he does say yes & that's a big if, when & where will it be?"

"There's a little local tea shop that a good family friend of mine owns. It's called Hattie's & it's just right around the square. Maybe he can come by around like 12? That's when the shop closes for the day, since it's a Sunday." The sound of typing resumes from the other side of the call.

"Well, I'll let him know that you want to see him."

"Thank you so very much, Trish."

"Anytime, dear. Bye-bye." The call hung up. Finn puts his phone down on the blanket & just stares at the stars.

"That went well, didn't it?"

"nO." Finn's voice cracked. 

"Come on, Finn. Are you worried that he might want to see you again?"

"YES."

"Maybe, & hear me out with this one, I come with you." Finn sat back up. Jesus, Finn is doing some goddamn sit-ups in this chapter, goddamn.

"With what happened today, no. I don't want you to cause a scene again & you just said earlier that you wanted to kick his ass."

"Still do."

"See?!" He groaned. "I just want it to go right & just not screw up this time."

"& you won't. I believe it's going to go well but if anything goes wrong, I'm always here for you alright?" Finn just nodded & you put your hand on his shoulder. "How about we enjoy the rest of this night, hmm?" You both layed down on the blanket. Y'all be getting abs after this.

"Hey, Finn. One more question for you. It's about Auron." Finn hummed a 'Yes.' "How long have you known him for?"

"I've known him for a while, but around 2 years sounds to be specific. I would say we've been, um acquainted."

"For two years of knowing each other, it doesn't seem like it." You quirked a eyebrow. "I don't buy that, Finn."

"But it's true!"

"Is it true? Or are you scared to just establish something between you two?" Finn hid his neck. He didn't have to say a thing to answer that question. His body language alone was enough. The rest was just an awkward silence as he was afraid to answer the truth about himself.

Nothing else needed to be said for it just unveiled itself.

He was alright with admitting mistakes, but when it comes to the truth about himself? He's scared of looking towards his own reflection. You both spent the rest of the date within silence but within that silence, you comforted him with your touch.

☆ミ Author's Notes Underneath 👇 ☆ミ

🩷 - Ngl did not know how to end this chapter so I'm sorry if the ending to this kinda sucks. I'll work on how to end chapters better or even how to write chapters better. The other reason is that I keep ignoring the asks in my little mailbox so if you sent me anything, I'm so sorry for not answering sooner. Gots alot on mind but don't worry I'm still chugging.

[leiawritesstories]

illicit affairs

credit to my bestie @rowanaelinn who gave me the prompt and encouraged this whole story ily bb 🫶

Word count: 3.3k (oops)

CW: swearing, alcohol, infidelity (cheating), smut. it's NSFW y'all, minors please stay away for your own sanity, it's...dirty dirty. i'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.

enjoy! (i hope...)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin didn’t know when the spark had gone out, only that it had. She woke up that July morning to an empty bed, an empty house, and her hopeful half-smile faltered and crumbled, all her illusions of the fairytale marriage she’d dreamed of since childhood splintering into dust and ashes.

She really should have been anticipating this day. It's not like anything about the situation was unexpected--it was so painfully obvious that Chaol wasn't interested in her anymore that they really should have just ended the marriage already. But both he and Aelin were stubborn-minded, unwilling to just let their marriage die when they could still look back on their honeymoon phase and see sparks of something that might be theirs again.

Chaol was Aelin's high school sweetheart; they'd met during their sophomore year, instantly hit it off, and had been inseparable ever since. They'd gone to university together, and he had proposed to her when they were only 19, just after freshman year. Not wanting to wait forever, they'd decided to get married when they were both 21--looking back, Aelin knew that had been their first mistake. They were so young, so full of hopes and dreams.

Real adult life wasn't yet reality to them.

And here they were now, at 24, married for three years and drifting apart for a year and a half. She'd noticed the shift in their marriage when Chaol got his first promotion at his job and started spending longer hours in the office, coming home later and later. Back then, he still came home to her, not to his work. He'd push open their front door, dump his laptop bag on the floor, and come to her. She'd smile and welcome him, kiss him, ask him how his day was and listen to his stories, always eager to help him destress however she could.

Not quite a month later, he stopped sharing every story from his work day. She didn't mind--didn't really notice. She was busy with her own graduate studies, which were getting more intense, and as much as she loved her husband and wanted to be there for him however she could, he had to reciprocate the feeling for anything to work. He started working even longer hours, claiming the new projects his bosses kept shoving onto his desk were eating his time.

She believed everything he said. Stupid, foolish, stupid Aelin.

Months passed, then a year. By then, Aelin was going to bed alone, leaving Chaol's dinner in the fridge or on the stove, not bothering to wait up for him when she didn't even know when he'd be home. Besides, with the thesis she was writing, she didn't have the time or the energy to devote to spectacular meals. She hardly even woke up when he finally slipped into bed beside her--when he still slept beside her.

It was only a month or two ago when the fragile peace they still maintained cracked. When Chaol came home early--for once!--and found her buried in her work, with books and documents spread across the table, her long-since-empty coffee cup abandoned beside her, typing furiously away on her thesis. When he called a hello that she didn't return, because she didn't hear him. He snapped at her that evening, said that he felt like he couldn't talk to her anymore.

He slept in the spare bedroom that night. And Aelin didn't even feel any difference--she was asleep as soon as she dragged herself into bed, worn out from the day, her work, and the argument.

~

The morning it all shattered, she woke up to a silent, empty bedroom. She'd grown used to the emptiness, the quietude of having her own room, but this was different. Silent. Too silent.

Yawning, she rolled herself out of bed, washed her face, and tucked her feet into her favorite beat-up old slippers before heading downstairs. "Chaol?"

No response.

Her forehead crinkled. "Chaol? You home?" she called, heading into the kitchen. Still nothing.

Not until she'd gone through the motions of making coffee did she realize that certain things were missing--his favorite coffee cup, namely. That was when it hit her. He was gone. Probably for good.

Aelin expected to feel shocked, numb, angry, empty--anything but what she felt. Instead, she just shrugged and poured her coffee. It was always going to happen, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. You've known so for months.

Yeah, she had.

~

That night, Aelin came home from a rather tiring session with her advisor, left her backpack on the floor, and reached for her phone, tapping Lysandra's contact.

<<bitch, get ready, we're going out

>>when?

<<now. soon. as soon as we're ready.

>>meet you at stag's? with shots ofc

<<you're the best, babes

Aelin showered quickly, dried off, and put on her little gold dress, the metallic material still molding to her body as perfectly as it had the first time she'd tried it on. She'd been shopping with Lys and Elide, who'd all but ordered her to get the dress, thinking it might lead to a night of fun with her husband.

Chaol hadn't even seen the dress. And, Aelin realized, giving herself a once-over in the mirror, he didn't deserve to.

She did her makeup heavier than usual, lining her eyes in bold, sharp flicks of liquid black and dusting her eyelids with gold. She painted her lips crimson, holding them apart for a few minutes to let the lipstick dry so it would be smudge-proof. When she looked in the mirror for one last check, she was caught off-guard. She looked...different.

She looked alive.

She looked fucking hot, and she was ready to go meet her best friend at their favorite club and forget her failed marriage.

The last thing Aelin did before leaving the house was tug her wedding ring off her finger and drop it into the shallow jewelry dish atop her dresser. She'd stopped wearing it in public months ago--if Chaol was going to act like they weren't married, then why should she keep up the farce? She kept it on at home, though, still clinging to the last threads of their union.

No longer.

~

Lysandra whistled when she saw Aelin. "Hot damn, girl!"

"Stop," Aelin laughed, stiletto heels clicking as she headed across to Lysandra's seat. Four shot glasses were ready and waiting, two of them filled with clear liquid and the other two with something colorful and sweet-smelling.

Lys wiggled her perfectly threaded eyebrows. "Someone's gonna catch a man tonight, hmm?"

Aelin winked. "That's the idea." She picked up one of the shots. "Cheers, bitch!" Tapping her glass against Lys's, she downed the shot. Then the next. With the alcohol warming her blood, she glanced over to the dance floor, her foot tapping along to the music.

Lys grinned like the wickedly clever woman she was. "C'mon, bitch, we're dancing!"

Aelin swept her gaze across the crowded floor, searching. "Lys, babes, I don't see anyone worth--" Her sentence cut off as her best friend all but dragged her out among the dancers.

"Just enjoy yourself!" the brunette yelled, tipping her head back and grinning.

Quickly, Aelin list herself in the thumping bass, the pounding melody, the near-indecent rhythm of the dancing. She'd only been dancing for a few minutes when she felt someone's hands slip around her waist and tug her back against a chiseled, decidedly male body. And gods fucking burn her, his body felt divine against hers, moving in perfect sync with her and the music, coaxing her hips to slide against his. She wound one arm up behind his neck, sliding her manicured nails into his cropped, silky hair, and leaned in closer, catching the scent of pine forests and icy mountain breezes.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" he purred into her ear, his breath fanning against her skin.

Smoothly, she spun to face him, which conveniently aligned her breasts with his chest. Fuck, he was gorgeous--at least six foot four, chiseled muscles, a tattoo snaking up the length of his left arm and flicking onto his cheekbone. Eyes the color of the Oakwald Forest captured hers, smoky promise burning in their depths.

"Don't make me ask again, princess," he warned, the hint of command in his tone sending fire racing down her spine.

She hooded her eyes. "Aelin."

"Aelin," he repeated, rolling her name like fine wine on his tongue.

She wouldn't mind that tone rolling in other places, hell no she would not.

"What's your name," she asked in return, letting the pause drag on before she added, "sir?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, and she could have sworn his hands slipped closer to the hem of that little golden dress. "Since you asked so nicely, I'm Rowan." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a bare hint of a touch. "But you can call me sir," he murmured, splaying one broad hand against the bare skin of her back, exposed by the cut of her dress.

Burning hell.

"Rowan," she whispered, her voice dropping to a throaty purr, turning the two syllables into something borderline explicit.

His hands flexed against her skin, pulling her even closer, fingertips brushing her thigh--just under the hem of her dress. "You're going to keep quiet for me, princess." Not a request, an order. An order that sent sparks dancing through her blood. That damn hand inched farther up her skirt. "Answer me."

"Yes, sir," she breathed, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

His smug, dark little chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Remember, princess, we're on a public dancefloor. Nobody gets to know that you're--fuck--soaking wet for me." He'd found her lacy little scrap of underwear, which was indeed soaked with arousal.

"Yes sir." Her vocabulary was apparently reduced to those words.

Rowan kissed her neck, a teasingly light peck of his lips. "Good girl." The endearment sent a new rush of arousal pooling between her thighs--which, of course, he felt. His smug smirk only grew. "Turn around, princess, keep grinding on me. I know how wet it made you." Keeping that hand under her skirt, he spun her around, splaying his free one across her stomach, pinning her in place.

She sucked back a gasp at the power of the maneuver, forcing her legs to stay strong, not to waver and collapse like they wanted to. "Sir," she breathed, body a little tense with the waiting.

He kissed the side of her neck. "Relax, princess. Dance for me." He guided her into motion, swaying with the pulsing thump of the music blaring all around them. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm take over, leading her body. "Good girl," Rowan whispered into her ear.

As a reward, his finger dragged up the seam of her panties, landing squarely on her needy clit. Her mouth dropped open, head falling back against his shoulder, hips rocking against the pressure of his hand.

Though she couldn't see his face, she knew full well that smug male smirk of his was firmly in place. "Look at you all dripping wet for a stranger, and I've barely even touched you." Shoving her panties aside, he teased her sex for a few seconds before sliding one thick finger into her, pulling a faint moan from her throat. He clicked his tongue. "Uh-uh, princess. Quiet."

She pressed her lips together, forcing the sounds she wanted to make to be silent. "Please," she breathed, her dancing smoothly slipping into time with the pumping of his fingers.

He chuckled darkly. "Such pretty manners." Another finger slid in beside the first, those two fingers stretching her more, filling her deeper than Chaol ever had. She banished the stray thought--no need to think about him when this moment was already so good. Rowan's hand sped up, working her higher, keeping her moving so nobody around them would be able to tell he had his fingers buried into her in the middle of the very public dancefloor.

Aelin felt herself getting closer, blood singing with the pleasure shooting through her veins. Subconsciously, she gripped Rowan's forearm, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of keeping quiet. "Please, sir," she begged, practically thrusting herself onto his hand. "So close, please--oh!" A moan tore out of her as he crooked his fingers, brushing that sensitive ridge inside of her.

In a heartbeat, his fingers were gone, and she'd spun around to face him again, meeting the darkness in his gaze. He shook his head, laughing smokily at the shock and arousal mingled on her face. "You disobeyed, princess."

"I--"

"I told you to keep quiet." He caressed the curve of her ass, the gold material of her dress molding to her like a second skin. "What happens when you disobey, princess?"

Aelin's breath shuddered out in a long gasp, all coherent speech failing her.

Rowan's lips quirked up. "Open your mouth." She did. He placed his fingers at her lips. "Taste yourself, princess." Not really waiting for her to move, he slid his fingers into her mouth. She wrapped her crimson-stained lips around his fingers, tongue flicking around the digits in a way that could only be described as explicit.

He chuckled, knowing she'd behave. "That's right, princess, be a good girl and clean me up." When he'd all but choked her with his fingers for long enough, he withdrew, sinful promise lighting his eyes. "Can you stay quiet for me now?" She nodded. "Words, princess."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, clenching her thighs together.

He tracked the movement. "Mmm, perhaps we should take this somewhere else." A soft, teasing kiss against her pulse point. "I don't think the whole club should see your pretty little cunt, hmm?"

Aelin could barely think through the heady rush of arousal that washed over her senses at Rowan's filthy words. In a single blurred moment, they were in the club's bathroom, the door locked behind them, and he'd lifted her onto the countertop. She loosed a little squeak at the unexpected cold of the marble, the sound rapidly turning into a groan as he shoved her skirt up around her waist, exposing the completely soaked scrap of black lace she called panties.

"I don't think we need these anymore," he hummed, yanking the lace off of her. And burying his face in her sex.

Aelin moaned deeply, gripping the edge of the countertop to keep herself upright. "Fuck!"

Rowan pulled away, making a tsking sound. "What did I tell you, princess?"

"I--quiet, sir," she panted, just about ready to beg for his touch.

"Seems you need a little help with that." Rising, he stuffed her panties into her mouth, the essence of her arousal exploding on her tongue. "Now hold. Fucking. Still."

She didn't even have time to nod before his tongue was back in her sex, licking a long, rough line up her folds. She arched into his touch, gasping at the way he grasped her hips, both to support her and to angle her better for the devouring. His tongue--gods, she'd never felt the way he made her feel. He alternated long, rough strokes with teasing little flicks, plunging his tongue into her sex and then flicking it around her clit, keeping her just teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Desperate, she gripped the countertop harder, using all of her might not to scream as Rowan raised his eyes to hers, unchecked hunger in their depths, and sucked her clit into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth was enough to set her off--but she held on, knowing that he'd punish her if she came without his command.

"Good fucking girl," he groaned into her sex. "Come for me, princess."

She didn't need encouragement--the way he nibbled at her throbbing clit was more than enough to send her into orgasm, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He latched his mouth onto her and lapped up everything she gave him, letting out a moan himself at the taste of her, thick and sweet on his tongue.

"So fucking gorgeous when you come," he groaned, lifting himself up to pull her panties out and claim her lips, his kiss just as dominating as the rest of him. He swept his tongue through her mouth, angling her head to meet his.

Aelin groaned into his kiss, her body already throbbing with need for him again. "Please," she panted, grasping his shoulders to keep herself stable. "Please, sir."

"Please what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted but needing to hear her beg.

Her chest heaved. "Please fuck me, sir, I need you."

"Good girl." He kissed her again, all tongue and dominance. "Spread your legs for me, princess."

She did.

Slotting his hips between her legs, Rowan shoved his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, smirking at the way Aelin's bright eyes widened at the sight of him. "Think you can stay quiet now, princess?"

"I might need a little instruction, sir," she purred, lowering her lashes and peeking up at him. Fuck, she was impossible.

"If you say so," he smirked, pumping himself a few times. "Hold still, princess." She nodded, and he moved forward, pushing into her. Fucking hell, she was perfect. Tight and warm around him, her walls squeezing his cock. "Loosen up, princess," he whispered, stroking her clit to help her ease up. Her jaw fell open as he shoved the rest of the way in, grunting.

"Sir," she groaned, gripping his shoulders, her lovely face screwing up with pleasure.

"Quiet, princess," he warned, practically shaking with the effort of not slamming into her until she couldn't even think. She panted, hips rocking just enough to let him know how much she needed him. "Want me to move?"

"Please," she whispered.

"Good girl." He pulled back and slammed back in, setting a near-frantic, heavy pace. She moaned, unable to keep the sound back, and he clicked his tongue, sliding one hand up her body. "Tap my thigh twice if it's too much, okay?" She nodded. He kissed her hard, swallowing her groan, and wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping his grip light.

Aelin felt fire racing through her nerves at the pressure of Rowan's hand around her throat. She gripped his shoulders tighter and matched the frenetic pace of his thrusts, leaning into his grip enough that he tightened his hold, hand flexing against her throat, muttering filthy promises and praises into her ear. So quickly, she felt herself hurtling toward climax, and if the way his hips stuttered was any indication, he was close as well.

"Come for me, princess," he commanded, squeezing her throat in time with the way his hips pounded into hers, his cock deeper in her than anything she'd ever felt.

She exploded, mouth open in a silent scream as she came around his dick. He groaned her name into her neck, his control snapping as he spilled into her.

Slowly, they both came down, Rowan removing his hand from Aelin's neck and stroking her back as he pulled out. He reached for some paper towels, wet them, and carefully cleaned her up--an oddly gentle contrast to the domineering man who'd fingered her in the middle of the club dancefloor and then fucked her into oblivion in the bathroom.

Not until her dress was back in place and she was strolling onto the dancefloor--albeit a little shakily--did the realization of what she'd just done hit Aelin. Swiftly, she dropped Rowan's hand and ran, weaving through the throngs of dancing bodies until she was out of the club, out in the bracing cool of the night air.

That night, Aelin Galathynius cheated on her husband with a man she’d just met.

And gods burn her, it was the most alive she’d ever felt.

What the fuck had she just done?

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

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@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

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@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

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@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@mis-lil-red

[pedritapascal]

A good Agent, or a Good Fucker... to me

Chapter five - Decisions, decisions…

Pedro Pascal's character - Dave York - [DY] The Protector 2 / Equalizer 2

Dave York x Female Reader

Word Count: 5K

WARNINGS: {+18} Sex Language; SA; Fingers; Tongue; Nudity; Explicit Details;

A good Agent, or a Good Fucker... to me

I woke up with the sound of the alarm on my cell phone, looked at the time… 06AM… I was waking up at the time I was used to sleeping, because the time zone in Holland was still messing me up. Even after a week here, I still couldn't get my sleep schedule in order.

The first week was getting to know the team handling the case and my new partner, Matthew Guerrit, who was only 3 years older than me, but had extensive experience in the US police and FBI, in the CIA he already had 5 years, and had been transferred to the Netherlands for 2 years. Always with a smile on his face, kind and not at all paranoid, a huge contrast to my old partner… The agency here was much smaller, with few people, there was Agent Lucas Raymond, Agent Jacob Dirk and Agent Brigitta Simon, who - as she said herself - liked to be called Brigg and thanked the heavens when I arrived at the agency and she was no longer the only woman here.

This was my new team, because unlike in the US, here we didn't only work in pairs, only when there was a need or in smaller cases, big cases like the one I was in, a whole team was responsible, and when I heard that, it was my turn to thank the heavens.

In a week here, I spoke to Dave three times, and on the day I left, he called me while I was at the airport to say goodbye and wish me luck.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there at the airport running and trying to stop you from traveling, I thought it was too cliché and I know how much you hate romantic comedies… and I also understand that you need to go… But I wish you all the best in this new phase of yours, and I hope you solve this case soon, so that maybe you can come back to me… to our case… in the case. Good luck"

And the other two times, he asked about the case, if I knew where any documents were or if I remembered anything relevant.

Apparently, during the week that I was away, the case slowed down, even with the arrest in Ohio, we didn't get any leads to follow up and get to Richard Bayle… but now that was no longer my problem. I had to focus on my new case, with my new partner and a new team.

The case here was about attacks, there was a terrorist and extremist cell that had been causing explosions in specific places all over Europe, and the US's concern about this? Simple, they didn't want these attacks to reach them, and of course, fucking NATO, which was charging the US for its collective defense regime.

I got to the office around 7:30 in the morning, slept badly, slept little, my mood was garbage, my head was exploding…

"Good morning Rookie, what a terrible face, still sleeping badly because of the time difference?" - Matthew asked

I just nodded as I massaged one of my temples…

"Here, see if this helps" - handing me a double espresso - "I also took a while to get used to the time zone, almost three months of bad nights, do you know what helped me?"

"Matthew, if you make any unfunny jokes I swear I'll shoot you…" He laughed

"No Rookie, biritas" - still laughing - "take a day to drink with us, Brigg would love to have you with us so you don't feel so out of place…"

"It's not a bad idea, but when I leave here all I want is my bed, I swear I'm not that boring, I'm just really tired" - yawning…

"Tell you what, we've got a game here, and I think it's about time you joined in, you're already part of the team…"

"Game? Matthew, I want you to know that I always won my fraternity's games in college and I don't accept losing, I'm even a terrible loser."

"Then that's all the more reason for you to take part" - Matthew said, taking a seat on the edge of my desk.

"Good morniiiiiing" - Brigg had just entered the office, always smiling, I never understood why she was in such a good mood, but she made the atmosphere light, and it was a good feeling…

"Hey Brigg, I'm talking here, put the Rookie in our game? What do you think? She says she's very competitive…"

"Good Rookie, you'll love it, and that's our way of saying, WELCOME TO THE TEAM" - Brigg said laughing…

"Ok Ok, I'm already curious" - I put the rest of the coffee on the table - "how does this work?"

"Simple" - said Matthew - "until the end of the week, the agent who manages to gather the most leads on the case gets a night of drinks paid for by the losing agents, plus bragging rights, of course, and" - he tapped the table in suspense - "gets an extra weekend off…" I get up and reach for some case files…

"So get your wallets ready, because on Friday the Rookie here will be drinking on your tab" - laughing

I sat down at my desk to get back to the case, Lucas and Jacob arrived and caught up on the game.

In those hours when I was concentrating on being part of the team, I didn't even remember him, and I didn't question whether I had done the right thing or not, but every time I remembered him, my chest burned.

"Hey Rookie" I heard a finger snap in front of me, and I snapped back to reality…

"Is everything okay?" Matthew asked - "You're more airy than usual…"

"Everything's fine, Agent, I was just thinking about some things in the US…"

"Are you missing it?"

"That's the problem, I don't know if what I'm missing is what I'm missing" - getting up to get other files.

"If you want to talk, Rookie, we'll have a coffee and you can get it off your chest…"

"No no, I don't talk about my personal life at work, Agent" - returning to my desk, I smiled at the irony of my sentence, I don't talk about my personal life at work but a few days ago, my personal life was in Dave's lap… I felt hypocritical for a moment, but new place, new life, right?

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Friday came and with it the end of the week's competition, and I was disgusted because Jacob had won by one more lane than me, it was unacceptable.

"Jacob stole that I know" - I grumbled

"Take it Rookie, and get ready, because I only drink drinks over 30 euros a shot…"

We left the office laughing and complaining about the amounts Jacob wanted to spend, getting into the elevator, I had forgotten how good it was to laugh and have fun with coworkers, even before Dave, I went out very few times, always very focused on what I wanted, who would have thought that I would only last a few months in the corporation in the USA…

Whenever I thought about it, or thought of Dave, my head flew, Dave hadn't texted me for days, and I didn't know whether to be grateful for that, or to miss him, he still confused me…

"Rookie"

I felt a tap on my shoulder bringing me back, it was Matthew, again…

"Shall we?" He was standing there holding the door of the elevator that I hadn't even seen reach the first floor

It was the first time I'd accompanied my team to this pub, I didn't even know it existed, let alone that it was at the back of the agency, pool tables, dartboards, people smoking, classic 80s rock playing in the background, wooden tables and high chairs, a dance floor with a few lights. I think I've finally found my place in this city…

They went straight to a table at the back, I just followed them, apparently it was their official table, I settled into one of the chairs and the waiter brought us each a shot of rum… it was going to be a fun night and I was really excited.

After 8 shots, Lucas got up to the jukebox and put on a classic from the 90s, one of my favorite songs, Even Flow by PEARL JAM… I felt Brigg taking me by the hand

"Let's dance, Rookie."

"But you can't dance to that song, Brigg" - I laughed a little, but followed her onto the dance floor, still holding my long neck of beer that I was mixing with the shots of rum.

"We just swing Rookie, and feel the music."

I wrapped one of my arms around Briggs' neck and the two of us sang along to my favorite song like two drunks, jumping on the guitar riffs and bobbing our heads like two teenagers, laughing…

"Wow, I don't think I've ever had this much fun, I thought it was a mistake, but it wasn't, I did the right thing…"

"What mistake, Rookie? What are you talking about? You've got me curious."

"Nothing, Brigg, it's just me, you wouldn't understand." She shrugged.

The song ended and I went back to the table, fixing my hair and clothes, I was sweating a bit, even more so because of the warm clothes I was wearing, my cheeks flushed. Matthew came up to me with another beer.

"Enjoying Rookie?"

"Very much Matthew, thank you for letting me in on this" - opening the beer

"I saw you needed a distraction, sometimes you get lost in your thoughts."

"Nothing much, just some unfinished business that I've left behind and I'm worried about whether it's going to be okay."

"Some issues with work, or with someone?"

"Work Matthew, I always work" - drinking beer.

"You didn't leave anyone behind?"

My eyes grew distant for a moment, I took another sip of beer "No" I replied dryly.

"Then that's good because…"

I signaled for him to wait a minute because my phone was ringing, I stood up, moving away from the table and the noise a little, my eyes were blurring because of the alcohol, it couldn't be him, was I already drunk? It's not possible…

"Ready?"

"Rookie?"

"Dave?" - my body shivered at his voice

"What's that noise, where are you?"

"What do you need Dave?"

"Now to know where you are? Isn't it 3 a.m. in Holland?"

"If you don't tell me what you need, I'll hang up and go back to what I was doing…"

"Actually, I need your eidetic memory, but I guess that's impossible now, isn't it?"

"Can it be tomorrow? I'm really busy right now…"

Dave took a deep breath on the other end of the line - I could even imagine him smoothing his forehead…

"Sure, sure…"

"Good evening, Dave…"

"Princess?"

My heart stopped for a few seconds when I heard his voice calling me princess after so long…

"Dave," I said, my voice breaking.

"I miss you…"

"Good night Dave" - and I hung up

I took a deep breath, scratched my head…

I went back to the table and announced that I was leaving…

"No, Rookie, it's early, we'll be here until the morning," said Lucas.

"I'm falling asleep, guys, I want to see you hold out at the office tomorrow."

"Not me" - said Jacob, stretching - "I'm off, I'm going sleep all day."

"I still think you stole it Jacob, I just don't have any way of proving it yet" - laughing as I grabbed my bag and threw my suit on my back.

"I'll drive you Rookie" - Matthew offered

"No need, I've already called an Uber, it's coming, don't bother, just take Briggs" - pointing to the dance floor where she was jumping around to some music - "This soul needs to be guided home…" I went to the dance floor

"Bye Briggs" - waving my hand

"ROOKIE" - she hugged me, I wanted to say it apparently, but she was really drunk - "I'm so, so happy you came to the agency, for more female agents like us…. YAY FOR US WOMEN UHUUL" - Raising her arm

I laughed at the situation and at how drunk she was and got into the mood, raised an arm and shouted YAY.

My Uber beeped and I ran out of there, I wanted my bed. … I got home and just took off my clothes and put on a baggy blouse, threw myself on the bed with my cell phone in my hand, stood there looking at the screen, thinking about his phone call…

"I miss you too Dave"

I sent it as a message… honestly, I think drunks should have their cell phones blocked to avoid this kind of embarrassment, but now it was gone… yes, I regretted it the second I sent it…

Not three minutes later, my cell phone vibrated in response.

"Where are you?"

"You don't care Dave, you're not my fucking owner…"

"I didn't ask, idiot, I wanted to see you, that's all…"

"You're an idiot, you asshole, I'm at home, in my bed… going to sleep"

"Do you really miss me, princess?"

"After that little chat, it's all over… I've just remembered what an asshole you are… good night '

I locked the phone screen and tossed it aside, my head spinning, I didn't need to drink the last two shots…

My phone started ringing.

VIDEO CALL

Maybe it would have been better not to answer it, but I wanted to see him so badly, I sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard, with just the light of the lamp, rubbed my face with both hands to try to make it better and answered it.

"Hi Dave…"

"Wow, what's with the face?" - he laughed

"I'm fucking drunk, nobody looks good like that, asshole"

Dave was shirtless, leaning against his sofa…

"You look beautiful" - he smiled in a corner

"Aff, stop, what do you want? I can't remember anything about the case right now Dave… my brain is soaked with alcohol and…"

"I want you" - Dave interrupted me, and I blushed at his blunt answer, cleared my throat…

"So, what about the case? Did it go ahead? Have you been given a new partner?" - I tried to deflect

"It hasn't, that's why I need your help, but tomorrow, and yes, they've sent me a new partner, it's strange, but you're getting used to it, the only sad thing is that you're much hotter…" - he smiled

I put my hand to my face with my head back and turned around, smiling…

"Dave, I… you… we're over 7,000 km away and…"

Dave threw his body forward, his elbows probably resting on his knees, still sitting on the sofa, his cell phone down, giving me the impression that he was looking up at me…

"FUCK DAVE", I thought and bit my lower lip…

"Are you trying to seduce me Agent York?" - I asked, smiling

"Never, why? Are you feeling seduced agent?"

I ran my hand over my red face, biting my lip… looking at Dave through that screen, that neck, that mouth that he always bit the corner of…

"Maybe…"

"Princess, will you take your shirt off for me?"

I was miles away from him, but I still surrendered just looking at him. I threw my cell phone on the bed and took off my shirt, then returned with the screen while I leaned more heavily on the headboard, but without showing anything, he could only see up my crossed arm in front of my breasts…

"Let me see you princess…"

I shook my head no, biting my lip - " hum hum…"

"You want me to beg, don't you?"

I shook my head yes - "hunrum"

Dave took a deep breath, biting his lips, and moved a little closer to the screen…

"Please" - he whispered

"No…"

"I need to see you…"

"No…"

Dave drew in a deep breath and let it out

"Princess… please, let me see you" - he smiled - "I really need to see you…"

I lowered the cell phone screen a little more, taking my arm away, Dave mumbled something I didn't hear, but it sounded PERFECT…

I moved my hand down to my breasts, squeezed one of them from bottom to top and let out a low moan. Dave snorted on the other end of the line as he watched me. I squeezed and lightly pinched the nipple as I ran my tongue over my lips

"That's it princess, do them like I do" - Dave leaned back on the sofa with his arm outstretched, filming himself sitting up from the bottom, he was wearing those gray shorts from his gym days, I saw his other hand stroking his erection over his clothes and heard him moan low - "You drive me crazy princess" - He gasped

"What do you want Dave, ask me…"

He drew air between his lips

"I want to see you completely, take off your panties"

"This one?" - I had already taken them off and showed them to him

"Good girl, now come down so I can see all of you"

" Hum hum, and I'm not going to see you? That's no good"

"But you're already seeing me" - he smiled dully

"Not the part I want…"

Dave threw his head back and ran his hand over his flushed face

" Fuck, princess, look what you're making me do" - with a red face

"You started it, now you want to stop? No sir Agent York, you can take those shorts off for me"

Dave laughed with his head down, and his image shook as he took off his shorts as I asked…

"Okay Princess" - turning the camera back to the previous angle where I could see him from below, in his black boxer shorts, I thought about telling him to take them off, but the view was so perfect, I pretended I'd forgotten to ask - Can I see you now? - He asked as he adjusted his cock in his underwear

I just stretched my arm up and slid the camera down so that he could see me, arched my legs up a little and positioned the camera in front of me, still holding the phone, but in a way that he could see me. Dave moaned lowly as he squeezed his erection harder over his underwear

I wet the tips of two fingers and ran them down my body " That's it, princess, let me see you touching yourself, will you?"

When I get to my entrance and feel them rubbing against my clit, I let out a louder moan, and automatically close my legs a little, start massaging it, putting pressure on it with my two fingers, go down wetting them on myself and press my clit again, on the other side, I hear Dave moaning, he's pulling his erection down and up over his underwear until he lowers it a little, holding his cock at the base and squeezing it lightly, just looking at him like that made my legs shake. The head of his cock was already wet with pre-cum…

"That's it princess, moan for me"

My moans became louder but still muffled, Dave began to touch himself faster as he moaned, his hand with the phone was shaking a little, but nothing that disturbed my vision. I kept circling my clit while Dave moaned at me

"Dave, I'm so close"

"Come to me, come princess…"

He whispered to me as I touched my right spot, riding my own hand. Hearing Dave York moaning my name from the other side as he jerked off feeling my pleasure for him, my orgasm came like a strong wave and I could only moan louder as I slowed down my fingers trying to remember how to breathe, I opened my eyes in time to see Dave moaning letting his head fall back on the sofa, his hand slowing down, his chest rising and falling with his panting breaths as he came on his cock and growled his pleasure through his teeth, I salivated for him at that moment as I watched his cum drip down his fingers and onto his chest and belly with a few droplets of sweat that had accumulated. Dave looked at me, returning to his breathing, while I looked at him, biting my lips… I admired the sight for a few more seconds.

"Just a minute, princess" - Dave put his cell phone down somewhere, as I could only see the ceiling for a few moments, and came back quickly, just in time for me to see him wipe himself down - "How good can it be with you away?"

"I have no idea, Dave" - I shrugged and turned on my side with the phone closer to my face - "it really was great… but…"

"But it would be better with me there with you, wouldn't it?"

"No Dave, it's BUT I have to sleep, I have to be at the office tomorrow at eight, and it's already five in the morning… but it's always better when you're there… only you understand that…"

"Yes, princess" - Dave looked away - "I'll let you sleep, tomorrow I'll call you to help me with the case, okay?"

"Yes, but a normal call, no video"

Dave laughed

"Good night princess…"

"Good night Agent York…"

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Even though I'd only been asleep for almost two hours, I woke up in a great mood… as I got out of the shower and brushed my teeth with a towel on my body and another in my hair, I rubbed the mirror to remove the fog left by the smoke from the hot shower, looked at myself for a moment remembering last night and laughed, just letting a short laugh escape my chest… I rinsed my mouth and put my hand to my forehead, thinking… wasn't the idea to stay away from him? Okay, technically I am away, but… I needed some time to think… Anyway, I had to get to the office.

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I arrived a little late, but my team had just arrived…

"GOOD DAAAAAAY"

A SSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH echoed through the room on everyone's lips.

"No need to scream Rookie" - Brigg, still wearing sunglasses and holding his hand to his head

"I'm late because I've gone to buy coffee for all of us, double espresso" - placing the tray on the center table while they were already reaching for their cups.

In the mess of getting the coffees, Matthew ended up getting mine by mistake, and when he tasted it he grimaced

"Wow, what kind of coffee is that?" I saw that it had my name on it

"Hey my coffee" - picking it up for me

"How do you drink it, actually, what is it Rookie?" - Matthew asked laughing

"Shh, don't talk bad about my coffee, it's unsweetened, with milk and a pinch of cinnamon, a perfect combination"

I went back to my desk sipping my coffee, the day would be long, but in the afternoon, I would talk to him again, and that made me smile.

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As I was leaving the building's garage with the guys, Matthew insisted on taking me to the car, I really wanted to believe that he was just being nice.

"Rookie, I was wondering if you were free today, I don't know, to see a bit more of the country, go for a drive… I don't know" - Matthew asked with his hand on the open door of my car…

"Aaaan, who's going?"

"Me and you, I wanted to show you the city, you've only worked since you got here" - he looked away

"I can't today, I have an appointment"

"Very important?"

"Maybe, maybe not" - I got into the car - "See you on Monday Matthew" - I made a point of pulling the door shut and he got the message

"See you on Monday Rookie" - He stood there with his hands in his pockets while I started the car.

At home, I grabbed a coffee and sat down to read my book, which I hadn't been able to get to for three days, and waited for Dave's call. At around 7pm my phone rang with his call

"Ready"

"Rookie, what's up? I need to make this quick. Do you remember the arrest in Ohio?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"In the evidence we took, there was a list of the possible buyers of the women who were there, do you remember any names?"

"Of course I do, but why don't you just look at the list?"

"What names?" - Dave didn't answer

"Dave, is everything all right?"

"Rookie, I need as many names as you can think of, now."

"Write it down then, Aaron Delaney, Briella Wilson, Amatto Bianchi and Rizzo Zanetti"

" Fuck yeah, you're a genius princess, I need to go"

"Dave, what's going on?"

"I can't talk on the phone, I'll get back to you as soon as I can"

"Dave?"

He had already hung up, my heart squeezed, it wouldn't be a big deal would it? He's an experienced agent and very good in combat, and an impeccable marksman, he's never missed a shot from what they say, he's a tactical expert and always has his Beretta M9A1 - his suppression pistol - at his fingertips. I took a deep breath, he would be fine.

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Three weeks went by, I didn't speak to Dave, just a few messages that made us sure that they were both still alive, but this last week, he didn't give any sign and my mind was racing, I couldn't call US headquarters just to ask about him… I texted Maggs to ask for the news and she told me everything that was going on, except what I wanted to know, if he was okay, but I think that if something had happened, she would have told me, wouldn't she?

I had to be focused on the terrorist cell case, but as well as being worried, I was disgusted because I'd lost the clue competition to Matthew and Jacob, JACOB AGAIN, how he thought he was winning.

It was Friday again and the score was tight between me and Jacob, I didn't even go to lunch because by the time I left I was going to get something, I thought the competition was healthy, we had already managed to arrest some people, but mostly people who weren't relevant to getting to the focus of the cell.

Two more explosions had taken place, one in Holland and one in Germany. The point was that the cell could be worldwide, connected by the internet, so we could never predict where the next attack would be. I had been looking at the photos of the last two crime scenes for hours, my head was throbbing, there was something there, I could feel it.

I picked up the photo of the first attack to compare with the attack now and noticed a drawing near the center of the explosions, I ran to the table in the center of the room where the folders and photos were, and picked up all the crime scenes that had taken place, checking them one by one and Holy SHIT, I found it.

I lined up the photos in chronological order of the attacks, and went through them one by one to confirm that yes, they had a symbol, it was a waning moon cut in half.

"Guys, look what I found" - calling the team to the table, I passed around the photos and pointed.

"How did you spot that, Rookie? It's very imperceptible" - Brigg asked

"Don't ask me how my brain works, I just knew there was something I'd seen before, but I couldn't remember where, and it was in the photos. Now we just have to find out if this symbol is placed before or after, if it's before it's to mark the site of the attack, if it's after it's to assume that that explosion was their doing…"

"I'll give it to Sylas now and ask him to check the street cameras a few days before the explosion dates" - Matthew left with the evidence in hand, heading for Sylas' office.

I got up and headed for the team board, picking up the pilot to write on…

"Hey Jacob, looks like the Rookie here is going to bankrupt you today" - making my point

"Calm down Rookie, there's still half an hour to go, it could still turn…" "That smell" - sniffing the air - "I feel a smell of revolt in the air…"

Jacob just laughed. … We arrived at the pub as usual, I already knew everyone at the bar, the bartenders, and I went in saying

"Bartel, make that double drink for me because today THE ROOKIE HERE IS PARTYING"

"THE Rookie WON ONE LENNON" - Bartel shouted to the bartender at the back.

" Finally, Rookie" - Lennon smiled from the back.

We sat down at the table, Jacob looking terrible, and I made a little kiss to him, rubbing my eyes as if he was going to cry.

Matthew and Briggs laughed, and I had fun, I loved those moments when I could get him out of my head.

The night was great, we drank and danced on the dance floor, even Matthew dared to show off his dance moves, at the table Lucas was consoling his friend Jacob, I might not have known how to lose, but compared to Jacob? No way…

I was already pretty upset, and it was almost two in the morning when Briggs took me to the dance floor again, my feet were already hurting and I was only wearing the white tank top I was wearing under my dress shirt.

Briggs danced just two songs with me and went back to the table, and I stayed there dancing alone until I felt a hand grab me around the waist.

When I opened my eyes, it was Matthew who, seeing me alone on the dance floor, had come to join me. He started dancing with me, taking me by the hand and spinning me around, and I laughed

"This isn't a waltz Matthew"

His hand tightened around my waist and moved to my back, and he pulled me closer.

"Hey what are you doing Matthew?" - I asked a little harshly

"What I've been wanting to do for weeks and you pretend you don't understand" - he moved closer to me, trying to kiss me and I pulled away, he held my face, I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back.

"Matthew, NO"

When I turned to leave the dance floor, I couldn't believe what I saw, I was drunk, but not to the point of hallucinating, it couldn't be, Dave was standing in the middle of the bar, with his black overcoat and his hands on his hips looking at me with his face closed…

"Dave…" - I whispered

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The tag list (always in progress), please let me know if you want to be added or removed in my future fanfic posts.

@hannahkatharine @drewharrisonwriter @morallyinept @simp4nott @star017 @survivingandenduring @popcornforone @perotovar @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @welcometodrama @blondebarbiiemiinajlover-blog @labyrinthofheartagrams @perennialdoll247 @jensensational71 @mrspedropascal5683 @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @pedroswife69 @welcometodrama @pedropascalsgermangirl @paanchusblog @stevie75 @leosilke @friendswiththemonster78 @vivian-pascal

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Chapter Six - Connections

[goldberrg]

₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 dont have to do this

summery : Every day you feel worse and worse, hoping that your parents will finally notice you, but only Steve seems to be worried about you, as always.

TW's – alcohol, mentioned drugs, a lot of time skips

— Mom, you really need to sign our report cards. — you get distracted from the TV when you hear your brother Steve talking to mom.

— Already? Oh, yes, the semester ended a month ago. Where are they?

— We hung them on the refrigerator to make sure that you and Dad will find them easily.

— Oh, I didn't see that. — your mother declares, laughing softly.

From afar, you watch the interaction before rolling your eyes. Obviously, she hasn't seen your report cards on the refrigerator, even though she's been passing by it for the last three days. She can't see anything. She doesn't see any of you. Your mother and father are here, but they weren't really here. You know that they are absent because of their work, they do everything to provide you with a "good life", but you would like their definition of a "good life" to have something about being a "good parent".

Your mom takes a pen from her pocket and signs the papers without looking at them.

— Congratulations, kids. You've done an amazing job. — she confirms with a big smile.

This is the last straw for you. How could she say that you did an amazing job when your grades dropped completely this semester? Even your teachers are worried about your future. Your mother doesn't even pay attention to it. As always. You're tired of your mother's hypocrisy, so you get up from the couch and go to your room without looking at Steve and your mom, who are still in the kitchen.

***

When you walk into Miss Click's class, you hand her your report cards, just signed. She thanks you before she starts her class. You sit down in your usual seat and pretend to listen to the teacher. Since last month, your attention to school has decreased, as have your grades. You no longer follow the lessons carefully and continue to skip school. You've done it before, but only twice, and those were exceptions, you found good excuses not to feel guilty about it. Now you do it without thinking. After all, if the school had tried to tell your parents, they wouldn't have answered. If that were the case, you could always lie to your parents about why you skipped school, they would not be able to verify the truth, since they are always on the opposite side of the country or even on another continent. Steve noticed a change in your behavior, but he didn't tell you anything. He guesses that you're just going through a difficult phase. If you were really feeling bad, he knows that you would come to him. He's spent his whole life reminding you that he's always there for you. He knows perfectly well how to take care of you. Maybe even too much if someone asked your opinion.

***

Two days later, it's your father's turn to return from a work trip. He's even worse than your mother. He only speaks when necessary, while mom at least tries to act like she cares. Annoyed by the so-called presence of your parents, you take refuge in your room again. You turn on the music, increasing the volume while you read the magazine. You do everything to get lost in your thoughts, to forget that you are in a house that is anything but home. When you turn the page, the music stops abruptly. You look up from your magazine and see your father in front of the radio with an annoyed expression on his face.

— What do you think you're doing? I was listening to my music! — you say, you're getting angry.

You get out of bed and go to your radio, but your father stands in front of him.

— And I'm trying to work. Your "music" prevents me from doing this. — he snaps dryly.

— I need my music to focus.

— You're reading a stupid magazine. — your father objects, rolling his eyes.

— I do what I want, this is my room!

— This may be your room, but you're under my roof. Do as I say! So stop listening to your stupid music. — he orders. — If you really want to ruin your ears with this, use your player. You know, the fact that it cost us our lives and that you wanted it so badly.

You sigh in frustration as your father slams the door. You go back to your bed and scream into your pillow. You got angry after talking to your dad for less than a minute. By the way, it was also the first time you talked to your dad since he came home. Since you didn't want to deal with him again, you take your player, which he so "kindly" offered, and insert your cassette into it. Wearing headphones, you turn on music, trying to get rid of your emotions.

When you go to the kitchen for breakfast the next day, you find a note on the refrigerator. You'll recognize your mom's handwriting right away. You don't need to read it to familiarize yourself with the content. She went on another business trip for work. She's only been home a week. This is almost a record. You crumple the paper before you throw it on the table. You're not hungry anymore, so you're going back to your room to get ready for school.

When you come to school with Steve, you do everything to hide your anxiety. He tried to question you, but you acted like everything was fine. You don't want him to worry about you. Besides, you don't even really know what you're feeling. There are so many different emotions running through your head. You're completely lost. You just hope that classes will be a good entertainment.

During Miss Click's lecture, she returns you the test from last week. She hands over the paper and says she wants to see you after class. You nod before taking a quick look at your grade. You have a deuce, let's just say it's better than a deuce…

The rest of the time you're nervous about talking to your teacher. When the moment finally comes, you do everything to hide your nervousness.

— You wanted to see me, Miss?

— Yes, darling. I'd like to discuss your grades. You may have gotten a few better grades on the last tests, but it's still not enough. I know what you're capable of. You're a good student. Can you tell me what's going on? What is it? — she asks anxiously.

— I'm just a little tired. — you're lying. — I'm going to improve, I promise you.

— I'm sure you want, but it doesn't seem like you can. Listen, I'd like to talk to your parents. I know it's hard for them, but it can't go on like this anymore.

— My mom left today, and my dad is busy, and he will probably leave soon too.

— I know, but isn't there a solution for me to see them? — she insists, and you start to feel uncomfortable.

— I think you'll have better luck with my mom, but if you want to talk to her now, it will only be on the phone.

— It's better than nothing. Could you give me her number, please? — she says, taking a pen.

— I don't have her hotel number yet. Although I'll probably find it tonight. I'll tell you within a week, but I can't promise that you'll get in touch with her on the phone right away.

— It's okay, I'll try anyway. Thank you.

— Have a nice day, Miss. — you finish and start to leave, but she holds you back.

— You know, if you need to, you can talk to me. If it's difficult for you in class, I'll be happy to help you.

— Thanks.

You give her a small smile before sheepishly leaving her classroom. You get the impression that Miss Click feels sorry for you, and you hate it. Obviously, she has good intentions, but you don't want to make her think that you can't handle everything on your own. You know how to do it. You've known how to do it since you were a kid. Your parents left you no other choice.

Even if it's lunch break, you don't go to the cafeteria. You won't have time to relax properly, so you'd better not eat at all. Instead, you walk out of the building and into the woods next to the school. You walk carefully, making sure that no one sees you until you find yourself in front of a picnic table.

—Little Harrington. To what do I owe for this pleasure? — Eddie "Freak Munson smiles when he sees you.

— You know I'm not just Steve's sister, right?

— I know. What can I do for you?

— What can I get for fifty bucks? — you ask, catching him off guard.

— Excuse me?

— What can you sell me for fifty bucks?

— Nothing. — he claims without wasting a second.

— What, is it more expensive? I can already give you fifty, and the rest is tomorrow.

— No, I think you misunderstood me, sweetheart, I'm not going to sell you anything. — Eddie clarifies, and it's your turn to be taken aback.

— Why?

— You're fifteen.

— I'm sixteen!

—I'm sorry, ma'am. — he says dramatically. I don't sell to minors.

— So what? Are you a saint now? — you ask, and he shrugs. — You sell drugs in high school, what did you expect?

— Let's just say I don't sell anything to people under seventeen. In any case, you don't fit into any category.

— You're a jerk. — you say that with a fake smile.

—Thank you, little Harrington. — he's joking while you're out of the woods. — It was nice not to make a deal with you!

After his sarcastic comment, you throw a sharp glance at the guy, still heading to school. Among the people here, you would never have thought that Eddie Munson would play the good bastard. Even if you don't want to, you go back to class suffering in silence.

***

When in two weeks, your father leaves Hawkins to work, you feel like it's too much for you. You really feel bad. You feel sick in your stomach. You can't even eat. You feel like you can fall at any time. Steve noticed it on the way to school. He didn't ask you any questions while he was driving, he wanted to give you a little rest. Maybe you just needed a few more minutes to sleep? And yet, when you come to school, he's working on his brother's instinct.

— Are you feeling good? You look sick.

— Yeah, I just have a little stomach ache. It'll be over soon. Don't worry.

— Are you sure?" We still have a little time. We could go home. I'll call school and explain it. — he assures you, and you're trying to smile.

— Steve, I'm fine. It will be gone in an hour.

— If you need, you can always go to the nurse and ask her to tell me if you come home.

You nod before you get out of the car. You let Steve join his friends while you go to class.

Your anxiety is still present, even after an hour. Staying in school becomes unbearable for you, and you decide to miss the rest of the day. You're walking around Hawkins for hours before you get home.

You're lying on the couch and reading when Steve comes home in panic. Relief quickly blends on his face when he notices you.

— God, you scared me. I couldn't find you in the corridors and tried to call home, but no one answered!

— Sorry, Steve. I really didn't feel like it, and the nurse said I could go home. I forgot to tell her that she needs to tell you. And when I came home, I went to bed immediately. I'm so tired I didn't hear the phone call. — you lie.

— I understand, but don't forget to tell me the next time. You really scared me.

— Sorry.

— You feel better now? What's the matter? — he asks, putting his hand on your forehead.

—Yeah, I feel better. Besides, I don't have high temperature, Steve.

— We'll never know for sure. Maybe you got something caught.

— There's nothing about it. I'm fine.

— Well, but tell me if it happens again.

— Promise.

Steve goes into his room, and you look at him with a grateful expression on his face. You're lucky you have a brother who's so much worried about you who cares so much about you. He's doing better than your parents. You can't even remember when one of your parents was the last time you'd been clinging to your forehead to check the temperature. The feeling of gratitude quickly leaves the body, changing the wave of sadness when you realize how many Steve sacrifices for you. How much he sacrificed his life to do your parent's work. He shouldn't worry so much.

***

You're trying to call your mom for the fifth time in a row. Miss Click becomes more persistent. She told you she couldn't get to mom, despite the fact that she tried several times. You promised her you'd contact her. You're not surprised mom's acting like that. You told her your teacher wanted to talk to her about your grades. For a moment, you thought she knew something was happening, that she finally worried. When your mom still doesn't answer you, you're breaking the phone. Why do you even bother yourself with all these efforts if she doesn't even try? This situation with your parents becomes more and more intolerable. You want to talk about it with Steve, but you're afraid he'll stand up on your parents. After all, they're not here because they want to provide you with a good future. They do it wrong, but they have good intentions, right? On your part, selfish constantly demand their attention. But they could at least pay attention to your academic situation! If the teacher wants to talk to parents, it's because there's a problem. They must notice that, so why isn't that? Every contradiction comes in your head. If only you had parents with normal work, it would be much easier. These contradictions continue to curl in the head for a few days, exacerbating your anxiety. You're getting out more and more and you miss it. Steve does everything to know the truth, but you're silent. He's got so much to do with that he needs to handle that he doesn't need another problem.

Today you want to try a full day, but once the call rang, you got sick again. Now you know there's only one decision: quit school and stay in your own bubble, away from everyone. You feel like getting better when you do that. So, you're waiting for the corridors to drop quietly to leave the building. You walk out the street, you walk around the city. You go into some shops, but you don't buy anything. Eat a sandwich that made a day before continuing the walk. You're wandering like a ghost like a shadow of my old self. When the day is over, you have no strength to go home. You still want to stay in your own bubble. But stay sober in his own bubble is not enough. You go to the grocery store and wait for an adult to ask him to buy you some alcohol. When a young man of twenty years agrees to do it, you thank him. When he returns and gives alcohol, you feel even more grateful. You're starting to go when he calls you. — You know, you don't have to drink alone. You want to come with me and my friends? We're going to the bar nearby. They don't ask ID cards. You're hesitating for a second. Look at the guy before you look at the car in which two women sit and another man. You think a little more before you answer.

— Why not. — Come on, let's have some fun! — one of the women is screaming before opening the car door.

You're in the car, watching these strangers in the bar you told you about, and you drink almost the whole bottle. As you have said, no one asks the ID at the bar. You can order as much as you want. You decide to try everything in a little bit. You've always been rationalized. That night you want to change it. Your new friends encourage you to drink, telling a little about every alcohol available. You keep drinking shots, and another ordinary drink until you start dizzy. You're grabbing the counter before you feel sick. You run into the bathroom, and somehow you manage to keep yourself up until your face is over the toilet. Nicole, one of the women from the group, followed you, so at the moment she holds your hair while you're emptied your stomach.

— Thank You.

— I think you'll have enough for you tonight, don't you think? — she laughs.

— I think so.

— Come on, come on. We're going to tell the others we need to get you home.

— I really need to go home? — you ask questions before you clean your mouth.

— Your parents are not there, right? — you said it before you were punished. — That's true! You're right! Besides, even if they were there, they don't care about me. They won't even notice I'm drunk. — you add, suddenly feeling confident.

— Come on, the breaker of calm, it's time to go home.

Nicole supports you, helping you out of the bathroom. When you come back to the others, you're not quite in yourself to say you need to bring home, so your new friend tells them about it. They nod and laugh when they see your condition.

On the way home Pete, the one who bought you alcohol, keeps him moving slowly. Not because he drank alcohol too and wants to be responsible, but because he doesn't want you to be ripped out in his car.

Fortunately, you arrive at the destination without giving back the contents of your stomach. You're waving your new friends before you go to the door. You get the key from your school bag and open the door. You don't even have time to put your things down when you're suddenly dazzling the light. Steve runs to you in full panic.

— You're really coming home now? Damn, yes, it's three in the morning, I'm terribly worried. I thought something happened to you! I even called the police.

— It's okay, I'm not dead, Steve. — you're muttering, rolling your eyes.

— You're drunk? What's the matter? — he asks, coming closer to you.

— No.

— Y/N. — he insists more authoritative tone.

— Okay, maybe couple shots.

— How did you manage that? You're sixteen.

— I asked Pete.

— Who's this Pete? — Steve asked.

— The guy I met before. He's the one who took me home. — you're telling him, smiling.

— You really mean to tell me you took the alcohol from the stranger and got under the guard of this stranger? Do you understand how dangerous it was? He could hurt you. — he's splitting in shock.

— Calm down, there were Nicole, Tessa and George.

— And that should calm me down? You're completely drunk, three in the morning, you disappeared from today's morning and there was God knows who. Do you know how bad I felt

— Its..

— Don't you even say "nothing", Y/N. —he breaks down you, knowing what you were going to say. — I'm responsible for you when my parents are not there. I was so damn scared! And, by the way, not only tonight. I was worried about you for two months. — he admits, and you're frowning, knowing he understood. — Yes, they may have seen nothing, but I noticed that your grades were falling from the first day. I also know you tried buying drugs.

— How did you..

— Munson told me.

— That asshole! — you whisper, feeling devotee.

— Thank God he told me! He also confirmed all my doubts. God, what's going on? Why are you so far away? You know I'm here for you, so why are you acting like that? I can help you. I just feel you disappear and I'm afraid for you.

— Oh, God, can you stop? — you scream, dehydration.

— Stop what? Worry about you? I had to. You throw your life out on the wind. — Steve's parrying.

— Stop acting like a parent, it's not your job, damn it! You know what you just said to me, you should have spoken to me, you know, your mother or dad should have spoken. Not you. Yeah, you could be worried, but you're my brother. You have to laugh at me because you're yelling at me, or you have to blackmail me so I don't tell my parents about my grades. It's your job. You're not a parent. You don't have to be responsible for me.

— They work hard to..

— To provide us with a beautiful future, I know. — you broke him out irritably. — But what price?" Steve, I saw you acting like a parent than a teenager, and you're seventeen. I'm tired of seeing you sacrifice your life because two adults are unable to do their job. Look, tonight we have a new proof. You were terribly worried, you called the police because I disappeared all day. — you keep talking. — It's supposed to be parents, not you. You said it was two months since you noticed I didn't feel like it. My mother didn't even notice that my grades fell, though she signed the thing! It's driving me crazy because even when I'm trying to get their attention, you're worried not them. As you always do. I just want them to notice that they failed like parents. I want them to see us. At this time. But it doesn't work. I don't know what else I can do, and I'm sick of it. I can't stand it anymore, Steve.

You're totally in fucking tears. Steve doesn't answer, but hugs you as hard as he can. He knew that the situation in your family had affected you as well as he did, but he would never think you were so much suffering. He strokes you on his head, trying to calm your sobs, muttering some cute little things. You didn't think you'd break tonight, but that's what. You keep crying every tear from your body for a few minutes before you calm down. When Steve doesn't feel your shoulders move, he's a little bit of a hug to look at your face, look at his younger sister's face, completely broken.

— I'm sorry I didn't understand why you felt bad. I should have tried harder when I asked you how things were. — he says, feeling guilty.

— I'd lie.

— I should have tried harder.

— It's not your job. — you repeat in a whisper.

— That's not supposed to be, but that's what. Even if it's hard to handle all these duties, I'm glad to be here for you, so come talk to me when you're bad. Maybe I won't have answers to all the questions, but I'll do whatever I can. — your older brother assures you.

— Thank You. — you smile.

— If you want, we can try to talk to parents? — he's offering.

— They won't listen.

— We can always try.

— Yes. — you agree, but not really convinced.

— You need to rest, okay? — Steve recommends you, and you nod.

— Can you stay with me for the night? How when I had a nightmare when I was a kid? — you ask in a quiet voice.

— Of course. I'm just gonna call the police and tell me you're home. I'll take you a glass of water and some medicine, you'll have a damn bad headache. — he says, laughing slightly and pointing to your head.

— I think. — you say giggling.

Steve kisses you in the forehead before inviting you to your room. You smile slightly before you go upstairs. He goes to the phone in the living room when you stop and call him. Steve returns with a questionable look.

— I'm sorry. — you're starting before you clean your throat. — For disturbing you for the last two months, but especially for tonight. Maybe I wanted parents to worry, but the least I wanted you to be scared. You've been doing so much for me since we were kids. I'm really grateful for you that you're my older brother. — you admit it, for a second, you look. — I just hope you know that.

— I'm glad I have a younger sister.

— I'm sorry for tonight. I won't do that anymore, I promise.

[skzhocomments]

Mafia Book #2 - PART I - The Black Iris - Chapter 2 - Time Machine

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

---

PART I - THE BLACK IRIS

Chapter 2 - Time Machine

chapter word count: 4k words

This is it. She thought. It will finally end. Just one more step.

She breathed in anxiously a couple of times, her chest rising up and down rapidly, and after a few moments of gathering her courage, deep breaths in her lungs, she jumped.

She expected to be free falling for a couple of seconds until she inevitably hit the cold water down below, the impact probably shattering enough bones for her to be unable to swim, and drown if she somehow survived the impact.

However, instead of the liberating feeling of free falling and then the bliss of death, she felt herself dangling over the dark abyss under her.

Her whole body was being forcefully pulled back up by two strong arms, and she was surprised to see Minho's horrified, breathless figure.

Just like last time. he thought. I just can't stay away.

Seeing someone commit suicide never phased Minho. More often than not, he was the reason behind people taking their own lives instead of suffering at his cruel hands. So why did he intervene? Why did he run over to the other side as quickly as he could, praying that he'll get there in time to stop her?

He's certainly never prayed for anything else before.

Why did he care?

They only shared one kiss and some silent greetings from the other side of the bridge.

That's all.

So why did he find himself pulling on her arm with all his strength?

"Yah," he started. "if you really want to give up on your life so easily, give it to me."

Did she hear him right?

"What are you saying?" she asked, perplexed. "Why did you stop me?"

Despite what she just tried to do, she was composed and calm. The only indication that she could've been nervous were her still rapid breaths.

"You heard me. Instead of throwing it all away, give it to me. I'll handle it with care, doll."

His gaze was burning through her skull, but the scariest thing of it all was that he actually looked like he meant it.

He wanted her. Badly.

And he always got what he wanted, one way or another.

Minho let go of her arm and bent down to pick her shoes, helping her put them on.

Her still expressionless face turned into a frown, as she spoke:

"Minho, there's nothing you can use me for. I don't feel anything anymore. I'm broken beyond repair..."

"I doubt that, Iris. So, why don't you join me?" He stood up and held out his hand towards her expectantly.

"I'm not doing this for you, just so you know. I'm doing this for me." He continued, bringing a small chuckle out of her.

Iris noticed the familiar lust in his eyes and she knew that it had nothing to do with her whatsoever. She knew he was infatuated with her from the first moment their eyes met, and the touch of their tongues two months ago only proved so further.

She had to be crazy to take his hand.

But what was there to lose that she hasn't already lost?

So, as crazy as it seemed, she grabbed his hand and held on to it for dear life.

He reciprocated the gesture and gently folded his palm to completely capture hers, both starting to walk away from the bridge.

~

"Where are we going?" she asked, walking next to him leisurely.

"Hmm, what about a hotel for now? I can't take you home just yet."

"Why not? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you? A few children you're trying to run away from?"

"Pff, girlfriend? Why not wife?" He chuckled.

"Because you don't wear a ring, nor do you have any mark on your finger to indicate that you ever wore one."

"Observant."

"That's my job."

"Yea? What do you do for a living?"

"I studied psychology for a few years, and now I'm a therapist." She said, before muttering a small "Was." under her breath, too quiet for Minho to hear.

"Beautiful and smart. But doll, since you're going to follow me, you'll need to stop working. I'll give you as much money as you want anyway."

"... As you know, I was planning to die tonight, so I quit my job already. But really? How much money is that?"

"You name it. No amount is off the table."

"1 million dollars."

"Sure. That's nothing." He shrugged.

"Hm, is that so? Let me ask you one question then – are we talking cash only?"

Minho stopped and looked at her.

"What is it, doll?" Iris smirked.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Hmm." She shrugged. "Since you know what I do for a living, shouldn't you also tell me what you do?"

"Seems you already figured it out somehow." A mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Perhaps. Let me know how close I am. Your fighting skills are immaculate, and you carry yourself with a lot of confidence. You could've been a policeman, in a perfect world, maybe, but since you're willing to throw so much money out the window for, essentially, a stranger, I'd say there's no way. You're a gangster, maybe?"

He fooled around with many girls before, with some of them even for multiple months until he inevitably got bored, but they never came close to at least guessing what he did. No matter how much money he'd throw their way, how many details he'd share. They were all oblivious.

But Iris?

Oh, how intelligent she was. Way too delicious.

"You knew, but still chose to follow me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm. You know, Minho? I've had many clients and I've dealt with many criminals in my short-lived career. Maybe some of them your friends?" She winked playfully. "It became so easy to see through them... they're all like glass. Their intentions are clearly visible to me."

"Is that so?" He asked, curiosity lacing his tone. He wanted to know more about her.

"You, however... seem to be more human than any other criminal or normal person I've met. Since I can't seem to get rid of you and you won't even let me die in peace... why not just join you and satisfy this curiosity of mine?"

"They say if you play with fire, you get burned."

"I'm not wooden, Minho. I'm gasoline."

Oh, how much he liked her.

"Why work with criminals, though? Why pick that field instead of living a chill life and listening to regular people's rants?"

"..."

"Is it the same reason that brought you on top of the bridge's railing tonight?"

"You're observant as well." She smiled. "It is. I just... wanted to get something back for myself."

"You've said that before."

"I didn't, though. I didn't get it back. I don't know how to get it back. So, I did the only thing that could stop this... train of thoughts I can't shut down."

"What is it that you lost?"

"That's a story for another night, doll." She smiled. "Do take me to your house though, will you? No hotels."

"If you insist..."

~

~Iris' POV~

"Shit, you weren't joking when you said a million bucks is nothing to you." I remarked, as Minho led me to an enormous house in the heart of the city. If not for the large gates where the garden starts, you'd think this was in the middle of a public park, judging by the size.

"Of course I wasn't." Minho rolled his eyes.

I was impressed. This was one big ass house you normally only see in movies, or on Google Maps if you're bored enough, and it's so perfectly strategically hidden, that you wouldn't even know such a wonderful mansion is hiding among the greenery.

"So, who else lives here?"

"My brothers and sisters, you'll get along well." He winked, opening the big mansion's door.

As soon as you could peek inside, the first thing you'd see is a big ballroom-like space with an intricate staircase leading upstairs.

What kind of parties must be happening here? I thought, but brushed the thought away. I didn't want to end up caught in superficial details, even though getting lost in details was what I was most used to doing.

When we entered, a very attractive man stepped out of a room on the right side – what seemed to be a kitchen – and stared at us intimidatingly.

"Who is this?" he asked coldly, eyeing me up and down.

What a bad day to not wear my usual work clothes: the pencil skirt and my high heels. It would've been a different kind of power play, perhaps, taking into account the man's elegant attire.

"Chris, hello to you too." Minho replied, taking my hand in his protectively. His hand was warm, and his thumb grazed over mine assuringly.

You are safe. Is what he wanted to tell me. I will protect you no matter what.

This Chris dude, despite his daunting appearance, looked absolutely harrowing. His skin was dull, his eyes puffy, big dark circles surrounding them, and his hands were shaking a bit; he had ridges around his nails' bed.

Sleep deprivation and vitamin B deficiency. I thought.

"Yes, yes, hello." He replied, slight irritability in his tone. "Now, back to this question, who is this?"

"Well, 'this' is right in front of you, and you can address her directly." I spoke, taking my hand out of Minho's and handing it towards the man, in anticipation of a shake.

"I am Iris. It's nice to meet you, Chris." I put on my best smile, following his reactions.

He contemplated for a second before shaking my hand, his eyes staring directly into mine. They were devoid of any emotion; only an authoritative figure would be able to look so soulless.

"So, Iris, what brings you to my mansion?"

"You must be the boss, then." I smiled, my words making him raise an eyebrow.

"And you must know what we're doing, then. Minho, may we have a word in private?"

~

~Minho's POV~

"Minho, may we have a word in private?" Chan spoke, his cold gaze meeting mine. I needed to play my cards right.

What should I say? Should I lie? Should I tell him I'm in love with her or something? I thought, but before having enough time to react, Iris started speaking again.

"Chris, I'm a licensed therapist specialising in psychological criminology and Minho brought me here to help all of you manage your emotions. Of course, I won't interfere in any way with your business, nor do I care for it too much." she shrugged.

What game is she playing?

For a brief moment, confusion was written all over Chan's face, before it contorted with anger.

"Why?" He asked, annoyed. "What are you getting out of it?"

"Out of what?" Iris asked, her brows furrowing as if she was puzzled by his sudden outburst.

"Out of coming here."

"... A fresh start, and I've been promised some pretty bucks." She replied after contemplating for a few seconds. "So, I followed him." Iris smiled and pointed her thumb to me.

"Minho, I told you countless times that I don't need therapy, and what do you do? You go out of your way and bring in a stranger-"

"Don't you, though?" Iris interrupted him; her tone was harsh, as if she was threatening him.

"Look, I don't know what he told you about me, but-"

"He didn't tell me anything." She smiled. "I never get info on my clients from somebody else. I like to make my own analysis. Actually, before walking through the door I didn't even know your name, nor did Minho mention anything about you specifically needing therapy. But after speaking with you for just 2 minutes, I can tell you need help, and I can help you."

"I don't need any help. I already told you." He retorted, defence lacing his tone.

"Chris, let me point something out to you. You are currently trembling, and you are getting more irritated by the minute. You most likely don't know why you're shaking, nor why your hands and feet are probably tingling right now. Either that, or they are completely numb."

"..."

"Okay... since you let me continue... I can tell from a glance that you have a severe case of insomnia and a lack of appetite that is causing all sorts of issues with your body, mainly a vitamin deficit. I'm no doctor, though, so you might want to get that checked out."

Fuck, she's good. I smirked. She was really observant, and she completely got Chris' attention.

"No, I'm really okay-"

"What did you eat today?"

"... what?"

"How much?" Iris kept her professional smile on her lips.

"... one apple?"

"And yesterday?"

"..."

"Two days ago? Last week? Last month?"

"Look, I told you-"

"Aren't you feeling more drained of energy than ever?"

"..."

"And right now, Chris... you started involuntarily fidgeting. Are you feeling restless? Why are you breathing faster and sweating, hm? Could it be that... everything I said... was spot on... and you're getting nervous?" she smiled gently.

"This doesn't mean anything..." he rubbed his nape.

"Let me help you."

"I don't need help."

"We can get to the bottom of it together." She spoke calmly.

Her sweet voice was becoming an obsession; it was melody to my ears. Would she speak that gently to me as well?

It was like magic. The way she articulated her words made you want to open up to her, to let her know anything and everything. Maybe what they say is true, and every human being has something to them that makes them special. Some sort of magic.

Maybe that thing about Iris was her soothing voice.

"No." Chris replied again, lowering his head and rubbing his forehead. "You can't do anything to help me. No one can."

"That's not true."

"Unless you can change the past." Chan chuckled bitterly. He probably didn't realise it, but he was opening up to her just by telling her this small detail – that there was something in his past that needed to be changed somehow, that he was powerless in this regard, however, and there was no way to change anything.

It was the first time since killing Hyo that Chan seemed not so opposed to the idea of trusting someone new.

Maybe it was because I was the one to bring Iris here. He could've pulled out his gun and shot her, with how impulsive he's been lately. This was the reason why I was reluctant to bring Iris to this place, instead of a hotel. We've all been walking on eggshells around him.

But he didn't.

Maybe he still trusted my judgement.

He didn't ever hold Emilia's death over my head, even though I shared part of the blame for it. I, too, trusted Hyo more that night, and accepted every word she told us without questioning them for a second. Still, in Chan's eyes, I was not at fault, and he never blamed me.

Maybe that's why I felt so responsible for everything, why I so desperately wanted to make things right.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Iris touched his shoulder, making him flinch. However, he didn't move away. "I can't turn back time."

It was such a simple sentence, but it managed to bring a smile to Chan's face. The first genuine one I've seen lately. Last one was at Changbin's birthday party, but even that felt like a lifetime ago. It just occurred to me that he no longer smiles as carefree or brightly as he used to. It was so weird to see Chris like this again, but it felt so good, too. Liberating, almost.

Maybe all he needed all this time was to open up to someone else, a stranger with no ties to what went down that could objectively analyse the facts, that wouldn't be emotionally involved.

"I can, however, help you make sense of what happened in the past, and make you start accepting where you went wrong, instead of blaming and tormenting yourself to the point of self-destruction." Iris continued, returning his smile.

Her magic seemed to have the same effect on Chris as it did on me, I figured after hearing a small whisper saying "Okay."

"Thank you." She resumed her spot next to me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

She must've been nervous as well, but she didn't let it show at all, like a true professional.

"Then... will you show her the house, Minho?" Chan scratched his nape and started heading upstairs. "I'm really tired, I'll try to take a nap for now."

"Sure thing, boss."

~

Iris grazed the whole railing with her fingertips so gently, I remember the way she drew circles on my nape when we kissed so many nights ago. She seemed so caught up in the details, that I wasn't sure if I wanted to interrupt her thoughts.

I guided her to my room, and she seemed so curious about everything, taking in as much as possible. When I first saw her and got mesmerised, I had no idea she was going to end up being here.

I've never brought anyone back home before.

"This place is so beautiful. Who are these people?" She spoke after a while, stopping in front of the wood cabinet on the left side of the room and glancing at the big picture on the wall.

"That is... every important person that ever stepped in this house."

"Tell me their names." She smiled. "And their stories. Something about them that makes them be who they are in your eyes."

"Okay..." I chuckled. "This is Jisung, my best friend. He gets me. Hyunjin is... a very artistic person. Maybe you'll be invited to the greenhouse one day, to paint."

"The greenhouse?"

"Mhm. It's an art studio in the back gardens... I'll walk you through them tomorrow, during light. The gardens are very beautiful. I think you'd like them."

"Yea." She hummed. "I think so too."

"This right here is Felix, he lightens up any room he walks in."

"His smile is beautiful." Iris complimented.

"This is Momo, she is my partner. We do business together..."

"What kind of business?"

Should I tell her?

If she's going to live here, she should know, right?

"... gun trades." I hesitated but replied after a while.

Iris just nodded.

"Changbin... is a very supportive friend. He's the next in line if something happens to Chris or me."

"He's hot." She mumbled, and I playfully slapped her arm.

"Don't." I said with a slight chuckle.

"Just saying. He hits the gym, and it shows." She shrugged.

"Anyways, this is Jeongin. He used to be... really happy. But now... you'll see. You should try talking to him too, maybe you can help him."

"Yea. I'll try."

"This over here is Hyo. We don't really... talk about her."

"Why not?"

"She... betrayed us." I spoke, remembering that night almost 2 years ago when I so blindly trusted her. "This is Seungmin. He has snarky remarks, but he's a funny guy."

"Snarky remarks. My favourites." Iris chuckled.

"You already know Chris and me. Should we go to sleep?"

"You didn't tell me who she is." Iris pointed out to the one person I didn't want to talk about, for I was still holding on to the guilt of that night.

"That's..."

"The reason why Chris wants a time machine." She pointed out plainly.

"Mhm. Emilia. Soon will be her 2-year death anniversary."

"Chris looks so happy next to her..."

"He was. He was so happy, and we all ruined it."

"How?" Iris touched my right cheek gently, wiping away a tear I haven't even realised fell off.

"I really don't like... looking at this picture."

"I know. That's okay."

"We... killed her. All of us, with the dumb decisions we made that night... when Hyo betrayed us. I can't understand how we trusted her so blindly..."

"You know, Minho? The harshest betrayal never comes from your enemies."

"I know..."

"You were not wrong to trust someone." She whispered.

"I was not right either."

"We all make mistakes. What Chris feels right now... is not your fault. Don't put all the blame on yourself."

Her hand was still on my cheek, and I leaned into her touch.

How did she know? I wondered.

How did she know that I've been pondering on this over and over, that the only reason I've been coming to the bridge at 3 AM was because it was the only place where I could stop myself from thinking of everything that I could've done differently?

How did she know that I needed to be comforted?

I haven't even shared that much, but she seemed to have it all figured it out. She seemed to understand Chris, what happened, and me.

I let my head fall on her shoulder as she took me into a warm embrace.

Her waist fit perfectly in my hands, and as I pulled my head away, I pressed our lips together. I kissed her eagerly, loving her sweet tongue on mine, but unlike last time, I didn't want to do anything that would risk her moving away from me. I let her be in control, and she thoroughly explored my mouth, our breaths turning into short gasps in the few seconds we would spend apart.

Her hands found their way to my back, holding on to me as if I were an anchor to her. I wanted more, and for a short moment, I thought she wanted more as well, as our bodies stumbled on the bed and she got on top of me, not missing a beat.

She kissed me hungrily, but I happened to be even hungrier than she was. It was getting excruciatingly hard to let her have her way with me when all I wanted was to spin us around, get on top of her and fuck her senseless.

Still, I didn't do anything besides responding to her every touch the same way, my hands never once leaving her waist.

After a bit more kissing, she pulled away, the smeared lipstick on her face and innocent look in her black eyes driving me crazy.

"I'm sorry, Minho. I think it would be best to stop here and go to sleep." Her weight disappeared from my body, and her words left me cold. "It's been a long night for me..."

"Okay." I replied, wanting to seem indifferent. Even so, she could read me like an open book, so she just chuckled.

"Don't be disappointed. In normal circumstances you'd be here alone, and I'd be lying on the bottom of the lake, lungs full of water."

"Do you really have to put it that way?" I retorted. For some reason, I disliked hearing about her death, although what she was saying was true.

We weren't exactly from different worlds. If I would've done anything stupid enough to get caught, I might have even gotten to know her. But still, both of us finding solace on that bridge, with the abyss below us, felt like fate pulling its strings.

"Why, Minho, does death bother you?" She smiled.

"It doesn't. I just want to find out why it brings you so much comfort."

She looked away. It appears I once again hit a nerve.

"I will bring you some clothes to change into. Do you mind sleeping together?"

"What, you have such a big mansion and no free rooms?" She chuckled lightly.

"There are two empty rooms..."

"But not really empty, are they?"

I nodded. She got it once more.

It felt good to not have to say out loud that Emilia's room has stayed the same ever since she left, or that there were still Hyo's socks in the drawer next to the bed in her room. So much for having empty rooms.

"Let's sleep together, then. I don't mind waking up to an attractive man that's madly in love with me." She laughed.

"Don't push it." I joked back and threw her some of my pyjamas.

She went to change, and when she returned, we laid down next to each other in bed, our feet touching.

She closed her eyes and sighed, letting her body relax against the pillow.

"What are you thinking about?" I whispered.

"This day... was insane. What am I doing here?" She chuckled.

"You gave me your life, remember?"

"Mhm. Will you give me yours as well?"

"Only if you tell me how you do it."

"How I do what?"

"How you realised how Chris was feeling, how you knew not to ask further when I told you about the rooms... how you knew that we've been hurting..." I closed my eyes as well, feeling myself get sleepy.

"It takes one to know one." She whispered.

"You were not too far off earlier." I replied, feeling myself slowly drift off to sleep. "I am kind of... in love..."

"Sleep." She commanded with a slight chuckle in that persuasive but soothing voice of hers, and listening to her, I gave in, the events of today tiring me to the point of exhaustion.

---

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

[rudikawhy]

It's been two months and five days since I've started Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Today, I finished the very last episode. (I know I'm making this more dramatic than it is, but idc)

So, it's been a lot. So many good, great things, but also a lot of weird, disturbing things. Characters I loved all the way through (Hunter, Piper, Davis, Sousa, every Koenig (I think)); Characters I almost loved all the way through, except for a few episodes where they made some choices I didn't agree with or so (Fitz, Simmons, Bobbi, Coulson, Daisy, May, Deke, Enoch); Characters about whom I wouldn't say I loved them but I still liked them very much (Mack, YoYo, Trip, Mace, Flint); Characters who weren't exactly the good guys but still were somewhat likable to some extent (Ward, Radcliffe, Cal, Gordon, Jiaying, Sunil Bakshi, Robbie, Kora), and of course Characters who were written to be hated (The Malicks, Garrett, Whitehall, Lucy Bauer, Ellen Nadeer, Ivanov, Kassius, the Hales, Izel, Sybil) and everyone who I don't know in which category to put, or what to name their category.

I am so glad, that the phase in season five where I couldn't stand Daisy, was over as soon as season six started. I was surprised by how MUCH I loved her in season seven.

Season six was definitely my least favorite (and of what I've read I'm not the only one with that opinion). But I can't say it enough, how much I loved the parts in space of Piper, Davis, Daisy, and Jemma (and later only Daisy and Jemma) searching for Fitz and Enoch. I can't think of one single moment right now from that space part, that I didn't like. But I really hated Izel and this whole shrike thing, and Sarge and his team, so I was really glad when season seven started.

Because season seven started off just absolutely great! I already said that I loved their clothes. Sending Jemma in as Peggy Carter in the 50s was perfection. Daisy saying she already has a sister to save, her name is Jemma Simmons. May falling through the ceiling, punching Sybil and saying "The Cavalry". Fitzsimmons naming their daughter after a star. Piper's wish from Jemma being getting Davis back. The team meeting up (at least) once a year to catch up and not losing each other. All of that is perfection.

There is so much more I want to write about, but first, I can't put everything into words (right now), and second, this post would be way too long.

I am so glad that I started Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I'm even more glad that I continued watching even though the first five episodes or so didn't convince me at all, and at first I only stayed because of the characters.

I am thankful for everyone involved, but especially those who decided that these wonderful actors would get the role they got, because honestly? I couldn't have asked for a cast that was more fitting.

I will start re-watch soon (at least in parts), because friends of mine started watching, but I have yet to convince them that it gets better than it currently is (they are in episode four).

[acewithapaintbrush]

This day was incredibly stressful for me for many personal reasons concerning my health and the health of a family member. And you might think this comment I found in my inbox today couldn't have come at a worse time.

And you might not believe me when I tell you that this comment has actually found me at the best time.

Because just a few months ago this would have really bummed me out. I would have been sad and dejected the whole day and wondered about their motive, what is so 'horse shit' about my story, what did I do wrong?

But all I was thinking was "Woooow. My first insulting comment" and all I did was grin and chuckle a little because I realized that it didn't phase me at all. I feel nothing but slight amusement at this comment.

I am stronger than I was just a few months ago. I am confident in my own abilities. I am no literary genius, but I know that my writing has brought joy and sometimes even comfort to people because they have told me so and I am inclined to believe them.

I am proud of that. I can very well be proud of that. Nothing wrong with that.

I can look at my own writings and drawings and say to myself "Hey, I like what I did here and others seem to like it too so I'm not gonna let one comment ruin my day, no matter how stressful that day has already been."

This comment has actually lifted my spirits a little so hey, thank you, 'horse shit' person. You did me a solid.

(still deleted it though, I mean, I welcome and accept criticism, but at least put some thought into it. You got all the way to chapter 18, I'm sure you can articulate your grievances better )

[nefkyo]

This is a wip of a personal project. Please note the tags before reading:

dream smp lore, post Doomsday era, implied character death, implied suicide, necromancy, crimeboys mope around in Limbo, mild description of a panic attack, mild description of body horror, miscommunication, tntduo is real, tntduo family who cheered, avian Quackity, ram Tubbo, Quackity is trans because I believe he can do anything

this is for @werenotacoupleyesyouare.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Faint footsteps echo towards him. He's back from his light jog in the tunnel that loops into itself. He heard him get frustrated fifteen minutes ago but didn't say anything. "Hi again" he says. Even in Limbo, Tommy comes back after arguing with him, sits down next to him and gives him the silent treatment. But at least he's sat down. Does nothing he says ever sting enough? No, never enough. Nothing is ever enough to drive him away, far away enough. Not even a kind invitation to never return. "I have to tell you something about the Overworld, Will." Tommy starts, only to be cut off as usual. "I've already told you, I don't want to know whatever you have to say when you start off like that." "It's really big." Tommy looks up at him, or at least in his general direction, and for a brief moment he sees a sort of pity gloss over those blank orbs. It irks him. "I *really* don't want to know, then." he groans.

"But- How are you not even a little bit curious?"

"With the way you're looking at me, I'd rather keep whatever dignity I have left through ignorant bliss."

"H- That's nothing like you."

"Yeah, well, maybe I've changed."

"You have."

He quickly diverts his eyes back towards the train tracks. Still, cold, unforgivingly grey and dirty. "Will you tell me anyway if I say no?" Wilbur asks, he has before, and he shakes his head, he has before. "Good. Because you told me that it's a secret you were told to take to the grave." he continues. Tommy perks up then, "See?" he says, a knowing smile "That's why I should be able to tell someone else that secret now, especially you!" "You know that's not how the saying is supposed to be interpreted. It doesn't matter how important it could be, Toms," he mumbles into the pitch black horizon, "once you tell me, what would I be left to do about it? I'm dead, we're dead. I'd just spend eternity asking you why you didn't keep your mouth shut." "Yeah, but--" "Just forget about it." Tommy makes a series of noises out of frustration and then stands up, arms crossed, as he starts wandering around again. Wilbur is starting to get tired of watching him do this every time, especially with the way he phases through the shadows of the platform like nothing. "That's such bullshit! How am I supposed to forget?" "By talking about something else?" "No! It's- If anything, it's the evil shit you've been saying lately that makes it harder to choose!" "I haven't said anything necessarily "evil" lately." Wilbur shrugs, angering the blond again. It doesn't take much. "You're constantly praising Dream!" he exclaims, "you praise him, the bastard who took our lands and killed me when I tried to avenge you!" "You weren't avenging me Tommy, we both know you were in Pandora's Box to mock him and avenge yourself." Wilbur corrects him as if he'd seen the whole scene himself. He hasn't, but he got the crude details narrowed down. "Besides, if he's got this necromancy thing down, you have to give him some credit." "Well he probably fucking doesn't, it's been three months! I feel it on my skin!" "Yeah, I know." "And he has not revived me, the green bitch, so my point still stands! A-And you wouldn't feel the same about him if I told you The Thing!" Tommy defends, but once again, Wilbur refuses to hear whatever The Thing. "I'm just saying, if Dream has all this arcane power at his fingertips, then I see him in a new light. I'd be honored to pick his brain at this time." "You would NOT." Tommy groans, but he sits back down.

"...Is The Thing going to make me angry?" he asks suddenly. Tommy nods, his eyes would light up with surprise if there was any life behind them. "Probably." "Is it going to make me hate Dream like before?" "Maybe. Not directly, at least." Wilbur thinks about it for a hard, long minute before he answers. "Fine, tell me." he sighs. Tommy seems to make some mental gymnastics beforehand, then, when he feels ready, he speaks. "I know you and Quackity were dating during Pogtopia, he told me. And... He laid an egg a few days after you died."

----------------------------------------------------------

Wilbur is stunned into silence, frozen in place as the information makes its way to his brain. Not the first part of the information, of course, who cares about that. "Are you..." he stammers, "...Are you serious?" "Yeah, uh... Yours, obviously. The egg." Tommy shrugs, but this is not a casual matter at all. "I promised Big Q I wouldn't tell anyone you were the father, but you should know. She was doing ok the last time I saw her, she looks like you." "She? I-It hatched, the egg hatched?" "Yeah." "Is she healthy?" he asks, his voice constricts in his throat, and Tommy just nods quietly. It takes him a long time to accept that information. He repeats it under his breath, over and over. "A daughter. I have a daughter." he whispers, and Tommy just stares ahead as usual. Tommy touches the back of his head uncomfortably, where the gash that killed him sits in its crimson glory. "Quackity told her about you, showed her pictures of L'Manberg and everything, but... Y'know, more in a symbolic way, she probably doesn't actually know anything." "So..." he hesitates. It's like someone just tossed his brain onto the train tracks. "...So that whole story you told me about Quackity starting that project, the casino, that was a lie then?" "Oh no, I didn't lie about that. He really was building a casino last I saw him." Tommy says. "He called it Las Nevadas." "Yeah, he.. He told me that's what he would've called it." his voice dies out. Wilbur thinks about Quackity, what he could look like now. Their daughter, their daughter must be a little lady now. Does he make her play in the casino? Does she deal cards with him? "When *did* you guys start dating anyway? Like, before the elections or during Pogtopia?" Tommy breaks his thought patterns suddenly. "Because I'll remind you, *you* were the one saying not to fraternize with other candidates at the votes and I will never let you live it down." "Shut up," Wilbur sighs in response, and he knows he would usually smile at this kind of tease, but he doesn't. Even if the images of those times still make something bloom in him. "We started dating *during* Pogtopia, after the festival fiasco. We'd watch over Tubbo together, console each other, as usual. It just felt different that time around." he mutters.

"Dude, ew. Tubbo was unconscious and you were kissing in there?!"

"No- No no no, what? We didn't kiss in his room, we just- we talked about it, our feelings. *Then*, after he recovered, we kissed. Completely separate occasion."

"Right. I'm gonna believe that for the sake of my sanity."

----------------------------------------------------------

So Tommy is now stuck answering whatever Wilbur may ask about her, about this kid nobody has ever seen more than once or twice. But when he's voluntarily about to tell him her name, Wilbur orders him not to. "Are you sure?" Tommy says, but he's already moved on to other questions.

"Does she have brown eyes?"

"I don't know, I only saw her while she was sleeping."

"So how could you tell if she was healthy if she wasn't awake?"

"Well, Quackity would've probably said if she was sick with something."

"Did she ever chirp like a duckling?"

"She did a few times."

His baby girl, nuzzled in the arms of her father, chirping in her sleep. He can't picture her, but he wants to. "Does he miss me?" he asks suddenly. "Quackity. Does he miss me?" "Well... I think he did. He was skittish of other people, he didn't really want to talk about you much. He didn't even want Phil seeing her." "Phil doesn't know about her?" Wilbur jumps up a little, and Tommy tilts his head slightly. "I think he's seen her at least once. He doesn't know that she's yours, Quackity didn't tell him." "Why?" Wilbur asks, but then he stops and thinks about it. Of course.

There's another stretch of silence. Wilbur sighs heavily and thinks on how everyone knows about a child that he can't even picture. "Do you... Do you think that I could've been a good father?" he asks with wishful thinking on his tongue. "Yeah, you wish! You couldn't even keep yourself alive, man." Tommy chimes with another tease. But after staring out into the dark for another long few minutes, he shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe you could've been." "Ouch." Wilbur smirks briefly then, only then. They're both contemplating a thousand different thoughts a minute.

"Would I have gotten to see her if I'd lived?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Did he hate me when I...?"

"Oh yeah, a lot." he nods. "He screamed a lot, then he went quiet and didn't say anything about you again." he actually turns to look at him - in his general direction at least - and with a voice below a whisper, with that same, angering pity in his eyes all over again, "Why didn't you tell him?" he asks. "I get that you didn't tell me what you were going to do, but him? Why didn't you tell him if you loved him so much?" he feels the faint taste of bile, just for a split second, before he replies with a very weak excuse. "Because I knew that if I did..." He sighs. Now he sees why he and Tommy keep secrets from each other, why they don't want to hurt each other with the truth. "...I knew that he'd never let me die. He would've done anything to keep me alive, and my brain was so set on it, so sure that I *needed* to die. He would've gotten in my way, just like you always did. And I couldn't do that to him, to you, to anyone else."

He remembers it. The night he had a breakdown so violent he almost told him his plans, thinking he was about to die from rabies anyway. In the dark, damp tunnels, pain stinging in his trembling arm, bite marks and blood and a sensory overload. Quackity held him up and looked at him with eyes of horror and repressed despair and kept telling him "It's ok, it's gonna be ok, it was just a wolf," while disinfecting the wound, pressing hard on the gauze. He looked at him and said "Q, I'm so sorry, I--" but before he could find the word that came after that "I", he froze. He couldn't tell him. So he said "I'm scared", which wasn't really a lie, and Quackity held him through that too.

Wilbur sighs as he snaps himself out of it. "Could you tell him that I'm sorry?" he mumbles. "If Dream finally decides to stop playing games and bring me back to life?" Tommy asks "Sure. But how would I let you know what he said?" "I don't need to know." Wilbur replies quickly, then, after a pause, his brother nods. "Ok."

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A week, maybe a month, maybe an hour later, a train came to the station and actually stopped. Wilbur was sleeping on the floor as usual when the screech of gears and wheels halting startled him awake. He looked up, at the opening doors, at the bright lights inside the car, and he felt this faint rise in his stomach, this feeling that told him exactly where the train was headed. And he must admit, he got excited. A tall, long figure stepped out, a blank face in a dark green cloak walked past him and grabbed Tommy, whose blind eyes darted around in confusion. "Wilbur?" he said, he spoke and Wilbur said "Toms?" with the same tone. "Wilbur, I think he's taking me back!" he exclaims, but he doesn't sound happy at all. "That's ok, I'm right behin--" he tries to stand up as he says it, but a force he can't explain, a pull keeps him seated. He can't go, of course he can't go. He doesn't deserve to go. So he starts again, trying to use that same voice of enthusiasm. "That's great Tommy, that's great! Be careful out there, don't come back here too soon!" he tries to joke, but Tommy doesn't seem glad to hear his voice so far away, to not *see* him when they're just a step from each other. The tall figure keeps a thin hand on the back of Tommy's head. "Will, I'll find a way to make you come back too!" "Don't do that, Tommy, don't try that!" he warns, but Tommy doesn't seem to be listening anymore already. The train doors start closing, one by one, now Tommy isn't even looking around anymore, he's frozen, catatonic. That's when Wilbur realizes, "TOMMY! You didn't tell me her name! Tommy! Tell me her name!" he screams, his voice rasps and the figure, the long, tall, white face in a dark green cloak puts a finger to his mouth to shush him, though it has no lips of its own. "TOMMY, HER NAME!" he begs, he feels as heavy as the day he died. Tommy mouths something, his lips quiver and make a word but the shrill of the metal doors makes it unintelligible. Then, the train departs. Wilbur feels a gust of wind, of life, trailing behind those giant tin cans that just took his brother back to the land of the living. And then it's gone.

All that's left is an empty train station. Nothing but dust on the track, and the echo of the train's wheels as it leaves the tunnel. Wilbur is alone again. That's what makes it hurt the most, really—he was right there! He had a chance, even the smallest, slimiest chance in hell, that he could've seen his own kid. That he could've kept Tommy safe with him too. Now it's gone. All that he has left is to wait, once again, for the wheels that will bring them all back together. Time is never kind to souls that refuse to move on. Wilbur has lost track, how long has he been here? That's another thing he should've asked him, isn't it ? He can think about a moment in time, remember something about himself on the surface and use it as a measurement, but those memories are all slowly fading away. Maybe that's for the best, he can't keep thinking about the people he knows, can't look back if he wants to move forward, so he waits. He waits, he waits, he waits. One day is another, and another, and another.

The train comes again. This time he's not weighed down by anything, by anyone, but he doesn't want to get on. The long, tall figure with a blank face in dark green cloak walks out, dragging from the scruff a pathetic, limp soul. He throws him out onto the pavement, a ghost that looks exactly like him. They stare at each other and they feel so terrified of the other. They can't tell who is more person, but now there's this twisted realization in both of them, that they're not the original. He tries to say anything to him, but he can't, and he doesn't either. And once they're done stalling, trading places, the figure begins to drag him in. "Wait, wait! H-he's part of me, let me get him!" he protests, but the figure doesn't let him. Some things must be sacrificed. The ghost sits in his place and looks at him with neon blue tears brimming in his eyes. As the doors close, he knows he has the other's mission now, just not what it is. He stares into the mirror image of himself, his face hollowed out from burn scars along his cheeks. It's the same in everything other than that. The way he sits, the way he slumps. He frowns, but he's not mad, really. It's just a part of him that will carry out this burden. It'll have to, whether he likes it or not. The train rumbles to a start again, he waves at himself, he waves back faintly but starts sobbing loudly soon after, almost louder than the train's screams. There's this understanding between them that they are not the same person, they could never have been, and this switch was bound to happen, whether the other thought he'd done enough up there or not. So, cheers to the other guy. Everything goes dark as they enter the tunnel, darker than death has been so far. The figure puts a thin hand on his back and he hates it, he hates it so much.

Time passes incredibly fast, all at once, faster than Limbo, faster than life. He feels vertigo pull his body in all directions, pulling his neck backwards, his chest forward, his back up, his legs down. For the first time in such a very long time, pressure enters his body. His body has depth. He sees a light, ironic, oh so ironic that he wants to go towards it but instead feels himself being pulled away from it. He fights the current, the figure stares, unaffected. He pushes through the barrier, the train shakes and rattles and screeches. He doesn't dare look.

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The cold, dewy air of an April's early morning fills his lungs. Lungs, he has those. He has to get used to that feeling again before he opens his eyes. His head spins, his whole body hurts like hell. Air shudders out of him violently, like a spring has just jumpstarted the valves in his system and now he's feeling the reebot. He tries to move his arms and legs, and he succeeds, but the pain that shoots through his body makes it hard to enjoy the discovery. Every joint and bone screams at him, every suture. Suture? He lifts his hand, tentatively, carefully to his eye. Stitches. Along his wrists, the creases of his fingers, his legs, his ankles. He's been pieced back together into a single string of flesh. By who? He knows who. He doesn't care, for now. For now he's alive. He groans, and for the first time in over a decade he hears his voice without echo, he can feel heat around him, his nerves are full of blood. His body aches in places that he didn't even know could hurt, but maybe he's never been more glad. And he's laying in front of a small altar, a memorial to his name, literally. Strangely enough he can still read, and his name is written at the bottom of the marble. There are drapes of the old L'Manberg flag hanging unceremoniously over his date of birth, flowers - mostly wilted - have been left beside pictures of him. And a single, still lit lantern sits near his boots. His boots? It's strange, but he's almost certain this isn't how he was dressed when he died. He uses the flat marble surface to hoist himself up again, the weight of his own body might make him throw up if he thinks about it too hard. He glances all around. Everything is empty, quiet—like a museum. Except it's not, this looks more like a rocky pit overgrown with nature. He groans aloud, the pain is excruciating but he tries to focus on the sights around him. His body wants to shut down once more, but despite the overwhelming weight of the world that's bearing down on him, he can't let his mind slip away again. He must keep going. He stands up, head bobbing slightly. This doesn't feel like any afterlife or secondary plane, it feels like the Overworld. It just *feels* like it. He stares up, he looks as far as he can squint, at the hills of exposed rock covered in dew and moss. These are ruins alright. He wants to laugh, but he just sneers. Someone built him a memorial over the ruins of what he destroyed, it's like making a plaque for the potted plant that fell on the pavement and made a crack, except the potted plant was him, and the crack was more of an abysmal crater. He squints at the ruins in front of him, everything is still and silent. Not one sound but the wind. Not one person but himself. It's all here in front of him, in this broken down splinter of what used to be L'Manberg. There's a sense of finality in the air, but it's not sad, it feels like an ending. He feels the air chill his breath and the cold ground underneath his feet. But it's a different feeling from what he was experiencing when he was dead.

Not anymore, apparently.

He hears those footsteps behind him, hurrying, running on stone and wood. Two, no, three people, and at least one other creature. He turns around in time to find himself smiling at a horrified Tommy, a very drained, jittery Tommy, with a blue sheep on a leash, and then Tubbo and... An Enderman in a suit. Tommy walks towards him carefully, maybe a little cathartically, like one walks up to a heaving rabbit they just shot with an arrow. "Oh, you fuck." "Hello again." he says, and he can't help laugh at his little audience. Tommy is looking *at* him, and he's cussing him out, it's just like the old times. Nothing's changed! Well, besides everything else. "Hi Wilbur!" Tubbo waves from the back of this posse - when did he get so tall?! "Is... is this real?" he asks, breaking the teethering tension. "Yeah. Where's Ghostbur?" Tommy asks back, and he can't answer that. He was expecting anything, a 'Welcome back', a clear indicator that he was anywhere near missed, but instead he's asked where the other guy is. The better version, he imagines. "Oh, he's... He took my place in Limbo." the words just sort of slip out of him. "He WHAT?? How do we get him back??" "I-I don't know, I just got here! I'm back." he shrugs as he speaks, like this was supposed to be obvious. He's still taking everything in, glancing at the blue sheep and the enderman, still mostly paying attention to the sound of his breathing and the feeling of the solid ground underneath his feet. So *real.* "You're supposed to act at least a little bit happy to see me." he mutters. "W-We are." Tommy forces out, but he doesn't want to move towards him any further. "So why aren't you coming here? Hey, it's me! It's me, man!" "I-I didn't think you'd-- trade places with him. I thought you'd be all in one piece together. I didn't even have a ghost, why'd you split?!" "I-I don't know." and Wilbur really doesn't know, but it feels weird not to lie anymore. "Tommy, we just got him back, can you guys not complain about each other already?" Tubbo chimes in, sliding past Tommy to walk over and hug Wilbur. It's an instant regret. It feels strange, uncomfortable, irritating like a stubble rash. But Tubbo's heart is in the right place, so he lets him. He instigated it anyway. Then the sheep tries to sniff his leg. "Oh god don't tell me I have to hug the sheep as well" was not a thought, or sentence in general, that Wilbur ever thought he'd hear himself saying, but thankfully he doesn't have to. "That's Friend," Tubbo says as he steps back "Ghostbur befriended it and we- we thought he'd be here, so we were gonna take it to him." he hears a faint and shy "and I'm Ranboo..." from behind Tommy. "Yeah that's Ranboo. They're here too." Tubbo nods, taking Friend's leash to hand it over to the creature. "...Charmed." Wilbur says, a little too focused on the other matters at hand and, quite frankly, a little unsure whether he can look them in the eyes or not.

"Y'know, you look like you haven't aged." he tells Tubbo as they accompany his out of the caved in rock. "Really? I reckon I actually look different, like, my horns came in, fuckin' finally. Didn't you notice?" he asks when he puts his head down to show him. A set of horns, already scratched in. "I mean, yeah, I did. Looking good." "Thanks bossman." "It's just... I thought you'd be... Older, older than... This." Tommy and Tubbo share a glance, then look back at him. "How long have I been dead?" he has to ask the two. He has to ask before he starts moving his legs in any direction and he doesn't stop, it's getting hard to sit still. "About a year and a half." Tommy says something finally. "A year?! A year and a half??" he spits out. "A fuckin' lot's happened, Will, and I need you to promise that you're not gonna say some weird shit about Dream being cool or--" but Wilbur is too busy laughing incredulously at how little time has passed since he died. "A year and a half, are you kidding?? I was dead for thirteen and a half years, Tommy!" "I- No, Will. You weren't dead that long, it's just a Limbo thing."

He stares at them both, his smile evaporating, his breath catching. "No, there's no way. I feel so... I feel jaded, jaded and stuffy, Tommy!" There's no way he was only gone for so little time, it's impossible. He could swear on his life that he was alone for so much longer, there's no way his own memory could deceive him like this. But Tommy looks almost the same as when they last saw each other in Limbo, Tubbo's just a little taller than before. It's the landscape, that's what really changed. He can feel the rushing of wind from nearby cracks in the stone, he can feel the need to look through them. "I mean, no offense, you look older than you're supposed to be..." Tubbo says, cocking his head slightly. "Did you know you've got white hair?" "I got white hair too, after I was revived." Tommy points out. Wilbur hasn't even had the chance to think about a mirror, he's just wandering off, staring out into the sky, the blooming dawn. If he's not thirteen years older, then his daughter, who's out there somewhere, isn't a teenager. She might still need him. Quackity might still need him. His soles find a step and he stares down at a sea of glass. If regret needed a preview, it would look like what's underneath it. "Is this L'Manberg?"

[mlove44lh]

Don’t hurt yourself- Prologue - En version

Masterlist here

Chapter 1

Lewis Hamilton x reader

warnings: just fluff

Words: 1.163

Summary: Six and a half years. Seventy-eight months. That was how long Lewis and Y/N's eternal forever prevailed. Love is a gift, but when it is not accompanied by the purity of fidelity, it becomes just words, and this Y/N learned in the most painful and raw way. How long does an "I love you" last?

Notes: English is not my first language. I did my best with the translation, but I know there are going to be many mistakes in the writing. I was inspired by queen B Lemonade album to write this story. Each chapter will be named after a phase of “post-cheating” grief, like on the album. My focus will be all on y/n and how she deals with everything that happens, not on the betrayal itself.

I don't know what caused me to wake up that morning; maybe the sound of the ocean outside, the lingering light breeze that hit my face, or just the human mechanism letting me know that I was sufficiently rested from the day before. I only know that when I opened my eyes and realized where I was, it was like my whole life had been leading up to that specific moment. I felt like that morning was the highlight of my entire existence like it couldn't get any better.

And it really hadn't.

I could still feel the euphoria that lasted for so long. My heart was pounding as if I had just run a marathon. And all of that was beautiful and exciting, it was the feeling of love in its purest form, it came from within the soul.

The room was shining by the sunlight from outside, the bungalow balcony doors we'd left open let the wind in, and the curtains danced across the ceiling. The large bed covered in white linen made everything even cleaner and shiny. Everything was beautiful. It was much more than I had dreamed of having one day.

The new weight in my left hand made me smile as I remembered what I was carrying. I brought my hand to the front of my face and admired for a few more minutes what I had already admired for hours the night before. The sparkle of the diamond could blind. It was a big ring, but at the same time, very delicate. It was noticeable even from across the room. It was more than perfect.

“You look so hot wearing only this diamond and nothing more.”

Only then did I realize he was also awake. And looking at me as he lay on his stomach. The sheet rested at the base of his spine, giving me a wonderful view of his tattooed back, and the smile on his sleepy face made me feel like I could kiss him endlessly.

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered even more when I realized that I had woken up for the first time next to my now husband. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

I dropped my hand and placed it on top of my breasts, covered by the sheet. Neither of us moved. We were only enjoying the presence of each other and the moment. Recovering the memories of all the fun and happiness of the previous day.

“You know what?” His eyebrows arched, waiting for the continuation. He was still a little sleepy. “You got even sexier after becoming my husband.”

“Looks like the new title went down well for both of us then, Mrs. Hamilton.” Lewis pulled me under him in one movement. Laughter echoed throughout the bungalow. “I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying that. My wife.”

“No. Never stop saying that.” My smile was big and truthful, and Lewis's was no different. “Sounds so damn good.”

Lewis came closer to me and sealed our lips in a long peck. Sleep still consumed us, but the desire to have each other and to show our love and happiness was bigger than anything else.

Lewis took his hand to the edging of the sheet resting on my chest. He pulled it up lightly and slowly and took the fabric off my body. My attention was entirely on him as his gaze roamed all over my naked body.

“I'm the luckiest man in the world for having you with me.”

His slow kisses started at my collarbone and worked their way down to my breasts. Lewis wasn't in any hurry with his movements, it was like he wanted to postpone every second, so he could take more advantage of the situation.

“You make me the happiest woman in the world.”

“I promise I'll make you much happier. Starting today, right here on our honeymoon.”

He didn't take long to come back to kiss my lips, and he stayed there for some time. I was surrendered and intoxicated with his love.

His strong hands squeezing me was enough to make me sigh. His touch had a powerful effect on my body.

Lewis's kisses became more intense. Sometimes he left my lips and started kissing my neck and torso, lightly nibbling some parts.

I held his face in my hands and deepened our kiss as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

Lewis pulled me up and in one fast movement sat me on his lap. His fingertips trailed over my back as he stared at me, his forehead resting against mine.

“I love you so much.”

I smiled and closed my eyes, clinging to that unique feeling that only he could bring me.

“I love you.” My voice came out low. We almost didn't need to say anything. It was as if everything could be said through our touches and stares.

“Look at me.” One of his hands left my back and went to my face, moving me a few inches away. I opened my eyes and looked at the glowing black orbs staring back at me. “You have become the most important thing in my life, and I will never let you down. And if one day something goes wrong, I'll be here, and we'll be able to talk and solve it, all right?”

His eyes held pleading and agitation, but I was calm. I was sure that everything was going to work out no matter what. At that moment, there was nothing more important in the world than the two of us, our words and our promises.

“Alright.”

The kiss that followed was deep and said what words couldn't express. We were complete at that moment, exposed to each other, to care for. A new stage of our relationship that had absolutely everything to work out; two people who love each other and want to make it happen.

Our bodies fit together like they were custom-made for each other. I couldn't believe I had achieved this just for me.

I remember wanting more than anything to stop time at that moment and stay there forever. Something deep in the back of my mind told me to enjoy every second of it.

I didn't know it, but that would be the memory that came back every time I reflect on our marriage again. The memory of the warmth of his arms around me the day after our wedding, loving me and promising me the life I've always dreamed of having by his side since the day I met him. The perfect moment.

But nothing is perfect. And the unbeatable, eternal marriage we believed we had had an expiration date after all.

Six and a half years.

Seventy-eight months for infinite love to come to an end. At least on one side.