#a couple of weeks ago the power went out overnight

[nerdierholler]

Soooo, super enjoying the recent power outages that have fried one (inexpensive) surge strip and one (not so inexpensive) battery back up. They did their job though and no computers have been fried but still. Usually the power is extremely reliable and I like our power company (I know, who says stuff like that) but our corner of the grid has been kinda wonky lately.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 14)

 Masterpost

“Do you want to go back to the manor, or do you want to go somewhere else?” Jason asked Danny after a few quiet minutes driving. 

“Can we go out of Gotham? Somewhere quiet,” Jason hummed and nodded before switching the com on. “Hey Bruce, will you kill me if I take Danny camping for tonight?” He asked, he knew Danny loved the stars, being away from Gotham’s pollution for a night and getting to properly see the stars would probably help. 

There was a pause and then Bruce’s soft response. “No, I know you’ll take care of him, Jaylad. Will you stop by the manor so Alfred can make sure you have everything you need?”

“Ya I’ll do that, will you call him to make sure he has stuff ready for us? Probably a car too since I don’t think I can fit a tent and provisions on the back of my bike,” Jason chuckled. 

“Don’t you worry Master Jason, we have a motorcycle trailer I shall pack for you,” Alfred said over the coms.

Jason had forgotten that Alfred was on the coms as Agent A. “Thanks A,” Jason said and then turned off the radio again. “Does that sound good Danny? We’ll probably have to wait a bit for Alfred to pack up some food for us and stuff but getting out of Gotham overnight, being able to see the sky…?”

“Ya, ya Jason that sounds perfect. Thank you,” Danny said, squeezing Jason gently and snuggled against his back.

They pulled up outside the manor and Jason kicked down his bike stand so they could both get off. “Do you want to go in and pack some clothes or stay out here?” Jason asked as he got off and leaned against his bike still.

“I don’t want to go in,” Danny said quickly. Jason knew the feeling, where being surrounded by walls felt like a trap. 

“Alright, do you mind Alfie grabbing some clothes for you then?” He asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” Danny assured. “I’m looking forward to getting away from people. I’m glad not to have to be a hero anymore honestly, but I haven’t used my ghost form in a couple weeks and I want to Fly,” He said. “Nothing clears my head like flying as fast as I can.”

“Ya I can imagine. Bruce should introduce you to some of the supers, it would be good for you to spar with someone you can go all out with,” Jason said crossing his arms, not missing the way Danny’s eyes lingered on his biceps, smirking a little at Danny’s moment of distraction.

“Ya, it would probably be good for me to get some training with my powers too. Mom taught both me and Jazz martial arts when we were kids, before things got bad, but that was a while ago and before I got my powers.” Danny said a little vaguely. 

Jason nodded and was about to respond when he heard a soft motor, looking up to see Alfred driving a cart over to them, towing a small trailer towards them that no doubt had everything they needed for their camping trip. Maybe even enough from a weekend away in case Danny needed more time. 

“I’m sure you have a relatively secure location in mind, Master Jason?” Alfred asked once he came to a halt.

“Ya I do, Gonna get as far away from civilization as I can within a day’s drive,” He told Alfred who gave a thin smile and nodded.

“Very good, be safe you too,” Alfred said, stepping back again.

“We will, thank you Alfred,” Danny said with a little smile, going to stand by the bike, letting Jason get on first again before sitting down behind him again and hugged him.

“Ya, don’t worry about us,” Jason assured as he put his helmet back on and kicked off, speeding back out of the manor drive before anyone else got home. They were probably dawdling to give Jason and Danny time to get out again, he appreciated it, he didn’t think Dick in particular would be able to stop himself from questioning Danny. Even though he would only have the best intentions and all that but now wasn’t the time.

It was a decently long drive to the nearest national park, where Jason went off-roading and in the back. He would make a donation later, he just didn’t want anyone to be able to track that this was where they were. Taking Danny this far away from Gotham and the other Bats was already a bit of a risk with Vlad still at large but Jason had the specter-deflector and blaster Danny gave him with them and he hadn’t told anyone where they were going, they’d be fine. He was good at off-roading and judging from the giggling from Danny he was enjoying the off-road motorbike ride. 

When they were far enough away from the road no one was likely to see them there was a bright flash behind Jason and the weight of his bike shifted. He almost panicked Danny had fallen off before he caught movement to his side and glanced over to see Danny, now with white hair and green eyes, grinning at him impishly and racing along at his side flying fast.

“Race you!” Danny said, his voice had an odd echoing chime to it in this form but it was still recognizably his. There was plausible deniability about his identity though, sure as hell more than there was for superman but maybe they should still find him a mask.

“You’re on! But no just going through the trees! If I have to dodge, so do you!” Jason laughed.

“You got it!” Danny cheered.

Jason knew he was going to lose, but it was good to see Danny smiling, pinging between trees like a fucking ping-pong ball with pent up energy from not having used his powers at all for more then a week. Working out all the nerves and jitters as Jason raced along behind him trying to keep up.

Jason thought it was probably an hour of flying/driving before they came to a bank of a lake, he had to turn his bike sideways and skid to not slip into the water as Danny laughed at him. 

“This seems like a good place to set up camp huh?” Danny said, his feet finally touching the ground again. Another bright flash made Jason blink and Danny was his black haired, blue eyes self again. “Do you think Alfred packed us swim suits?” 

-------

They unpacked everything Alfred had sent them, set up the tent far enough back from the lake they couldn’t be seen across it, and laughed about the amount of food he’d sent them. It was enough to feed an entire team for a week! Still it was good food, and Danny was particularly excited about a chicken soup he’d sent in a metal container that could be heated up over a fire. 

Once they were unpacked Jason went to grab firewood, leaving Danny alone in the camp to take his binder off and change his shirt since that one still had jelly on it from the ultrasound. By the time he came back Danny had changed into a hoodie so his chest was barely visible, only when Danny absently rubbed it. When Danny caught Jason staring he gave the other man a shy smile and darted over to steal a kiss, taking half the wood to help Jason carry it to the fire-pit. 

Jason set about making a fire while Danny went back to the lake, wading in the shallows since they didn’t have their swimsuits. It was too cool out for an ordinary human to swim anyway, though Danny would probably be fine.

Jason glanced over now and then, watching Danny’s figure as he strolled along the shore, pants rolled up and ankles swishing through the green water without a sound. He piled kindling and lit it easily, stoking the fire and adding bigger logs, sitting back and waiting for some coals to develop while he set up their little camping grill. Once he could pull out some coals he did, put the grill over them and set the food on that to heat. 

When the food started to smell good Danny came wandering back over and sat down cross legged next to Jason, leaning against his shoulder. “Alfred’s the best cook in the family,” Jason said as he stirred the food, the soup which was just for Danny, and a chili and rice. “But I’m a pretty damn good cook too, if I do say so myself, you should come over to my place for dinner some time. I’d like to cook for you,” He admitted, it was always a way he showed affection.

“I’d like that,” Danny said, his eyes fixed on the fire and a small smile on his lips. His presence at Jason’s side was comforting and cool. He still seemed like he was a little bit out of it, bouncing back and forth between energy and lethargy, denial and grief probably. Jason had resolved not to say anything until after food, things tended to seem less dire with a stomach full of good food.

Once the food was steaming he used his gloves to pull the grill off the fire, nudging Danny to shuffle away so he could put it down between them. With the spoons he’d used to stir still in them. 

“Do you want to share?” Danny asked, trying to hide his reluctance, which was sweet.

“If you want to, but if not the soup is all yours,” Jason assured.

“Thanks. I guess I am eating for three now,” Danny chuckled a little bitterly before he grabbed the spoon and started to eat, blowing carefully on each bite so it wouldn’t be too hot. 

They ate in silence, Danny quickly finished off all the soup, which would have been enough for two people but Danny ate a lot. He’d need to eat more before bed no doubt. Alfred had still packed them why too much food but maybe there was a method to his madness anyway. Jason finished most of the Chili and then pushed the rest towards Danny who gave him a sheepish smile but finished that off too. 

Jason moved the grill out from between them and Danny scooted closer to Jason again. When he lifted his arm Danny ducked under it so Jason could drape his arm over Danny’s shoulders, keeping the shorter man tucked against his side. “So, do you feel up to talking now?” Jason asked softly and Danny sighed, turning his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment. 

“Ya,” He muttered resignedly when he came out of hiding. “It’s not really the babies this time. I mean ya I was still sort of in denial about actually being pregnant and seeing it made it real so that was a lot, but I had already mostly processed it. I want the babies, we’ll set up a nursery at the manor, I’ll have support, hell Bruce would probably even hire a nanny if we need. I’ll be able to finish school, it’s just…” He trailed off for a moment.

“You know, when I was born my dad was a little disappointed, they loved me but they’d wanted a daughter and a son. When I was assigned female at birth and they didn’t want any more kids, he was a little disappointed. When I came out as trans they were So Excited. My dad kept talking about how he knew I’d taken after him! I was going to be a ‘big man’ after all. He couldn’t seem to understand that even though I was a man it hadn’t changed my biology. They were so supportive, my mom Screamed at a teacher who made me cry misgendering me, got them fired. 

“They weren’t always bad parents, there were always good days. Ya they’d retreat into their lab for days at a time and we’d have to fend for ourselves, they left guns and chemicals all over the place. I Know they weren’t good parents, but they still loved us, and I loved them. And despite everything half of me really wants them to know their grandkids, wanted my mom to be there holding his hands and have my dad come bursting through the wall because he’s so excited to be a grandpa,” Danny sniffled a little. 

“I’ll be a better parent then they were by miles, but it’s sort of scary to know that love isn’t always enough. People who love you… still hurt you. It’s not fair that the good parts are all tangled up in the bad parts, and the bad parts are to bad to let anywhere near me or the babies, especially with the whole, half ghost thing.” 

“Ya, it’s not,” Jason sighed, biting his lip for a moment before clearing his throat. “Before Bruce took me in, before I was an orphan, my mom was an addict. Dad was in prison, it was just the two of us. On her good days she taught me to cook, she sang me lullabies, taught me Spanish.” He trailed off and sighed. “On her bad days she was too high to move, or unconscious. She’s be that way for days until the drugs ran out, I’d make sure she ate, try and keep the place clean, hell I had to help her go to the washroom. And I did it, because I was holding on to that last good day, and hoping for the next one. Even when the good days came less and less often near the end.

“Kids love their parents, even when they don’t deserve it. When the parent loves them too a kid can forgive just about any failing and dismiss all the hurt the parents cause because ‘people who love you wouldn’t hurt you’. Truth is the people who love you can often hurt you the worst, because you let them into your head, and rationalize everything they do. So if they hurt you, that must be what love feels like.”

“What do you think love feels like?” Danny asked, voice soft and vulnerable. 

“Well, for me I guess I learned what love really felt like when I moved in with Bruce,” though he was loathed to admit it. “When he’d carry me up to bed even though he knew I was only pretending to be asleep, he’d go slow so he could hold me a bit longer because he knew that’s what I really wanted. When he stayed home from patrol with me because I was sick and I wanted comfort, or remembered where my favourite gargoyle was so he could come find me when I was upset. And Alfred, teaching me to cook his family recipes and making me tea when I woke up in the middle of the night with nightmares, never seeming put out he was losing sleep.

“Love is… warm, and forgiving, willing to give you what you need without resenting it. Of course Bruce wasn’t perfect, stubborn, moralistic, self important bastard.” Danny let out an amused snort as Jason continued. “But… I know he did his best, and he never abandoned me. Even when I was dying I knew he was on his way, it sucked that he didn’t get there in time, but I never believed he abandoned me because I knew he never would.”

“I guess that’s Jazz for me. She’s only two years older than me, but she was always there, she showed me how to do just about everything. I thought it was annoying that she was always after me about doing my homework and stuff, but it means she really cared. Not just when she remembered to, or didn’t have anything better to do. 

“I guess I’m a little scared of that too. Now that I have a safe home, and she’s 18, she’s going to go to university and make new friends. She knows I’m safe now, so what if she doesn’t… care as much anymore?” Danny asked.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said immediately. “She might be around a bit less, but she won’t care any less. That’s what siblings are like. I should know, I have enough of them,” he joked and Danny gave a wet laugh. 

“Ya, she deserves to have her own life anyway,” Danny said, but he seemed calmer. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset across the lake, it was beautiful.

“Sooo, how do you think you want to decorate the nursery?” Jason asked and saw Danny smile.

“I’ll tell you in a minute, now that it’s dark there’s one more thing I have to do to feel better,” He said sardonically, ducking out from under Jason’s arm and standing. “Cover your ears,” he directed as he walked over to the lake.

Jason was confused, but he did as Danny asked as the other transformed into his ghost form. At the edge of the lake he took a deep breath and Wailed, the water exploded up around him forced back by the sound. Jason clamped his hands over his ears more firmly as the sound ricocheted around his skull, it was such a pure rage, fear, and sorrow he could Feel it bubbling in him as well, like it was more feeling than sound. Jason didn’t know how long it was before Danny stopped, collapsing to his knees and changing back into human form, breathing hard. 

Hesitantly Jason uncovered his ears and after a moment Danny took a deep breath and came back over to him, collapsing next to him by the fire. “Okay for the nursery I was thinking of a celestial theme.” 

They talked for a long time about what Danny wanted for the nursery at the manor. When Jason worked up the courage to suggest if they were still going strong in a few months they should set up a second nursery in his apartment. So Danny could come visit with the babies more easily once they were born, they moved on to plans for that hypothetical. They decided on a forest theme for that one, Jason was looking forward to it. He loved kids, and ya he and Danny were new but he had a really good feeling about this.

Next

[cas-skz]

Our Girl

Bangchan x Fem!Reader

| non idol au | single parents au | ex to lovers |

18+!!! PLEASE&THANK YOU. MDNI!!

Chan has your five year old daughter Emma for the weekend, but during a vicious hurricane you realize she forgot her stuffie and head out to deliver it. When a tree blocks the road, you’re forced to stay the night…or two.

warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex, cum shot. little cursing

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :]

writers note: yea hello hi my friends. jac used my full real name and “my fucking heart you bitch” when she read this so I hope you feel the same. And yes I named their kid emma so I could scream it like on H2O

enjoy! cas xx

The sounds of children's laughter filled the playground. Your eyes followed Emma as she ran around, making friends with the other kids and joining them in games. She got her social skills from her father, that was for sure.

Emma was born just after you graduated from college. Her dad, Chan, had just started his career as a music producer and you had signed as a junior designer for a fashion line. Life got busy, between both your jobs and raising a baby, you and Chan eventually drifted from each other.

One thing you appreciated about Chan was how much he cared. He checks in daily and gets her anything she needs. Even though he doesn’t have much free time, when he has the chance, he always spends it with her.

“Daddy!” Emma’s voice screamed out from the crowd of kids, her curly locks flying behind her as she ran towards Chan.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them embracing. Chan lifting her in the air and hugging her tightly, kissing her cheeks until she told him to stop. You wished you could stay in these moments, where everything felt okay.

It had been a couple weeks since you’d seen Chan in person. He would video call every night to read Emma a story, taking a bit of time to chat with her about their days. It reminded you of the nightly calls you shared with him years ago.

After a few moments with Emma, he joined you on the bench. “When will she stop growing?”

“In like 10-15 years.” You groan with a laugh, leaning back on the bench and turning slightly to Chan. He looked tired, but he was much more toned than you remembered.

“We’re gonna be so old.” Chan said dramatically.

You nudged his arm, “we’re already old.”

He whined a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess we are. You’re still older though.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, looking back towards the playground. “So, what do you have planned tonight?”

It was the first time in a long time that Chan was able to take Emma for the weekend. She was head over heels excited.

“Homemade pizzas, cupcakes for dessert,”

You interrupted, “Chocolate?”

“Of course, she’d flip if not.” Chan laughed, “I also got a couple of those bracelet making kits, since she’s been going on about them” he went on for a few minutes about all the different things he had planned.

You couldn’t help but smile, hearing how excited he was made your heart happy.

He stopped and looked at you, a bright red creeping onto his ears. “What?”

“Thank you.” You said after a long moment, your eyes fell to the ground before back to Emma. “You’re a really great dad, and she’s lucky to have you. We’re really lucky.”

You spent the next little while chatting, catching up on life before Emma came running over to you both, “I’m hungry!” She whined in a dramatic voice.

The three of you went to a nearby pizza place as storm clouds started to roll in. You quickly got to your cars, giving Chan her overnight bag and you said your goodbyes. “You call mommy if you need anything, okay? I hope you have so much fun with Daddy.”

The storm started a few hours later. Chan confirmed they had gotten back to his place and you decided to relax for the night - or at least try to. The movie was almost over when the power went out and you sighed softly before moving to your bed.

You had just sat down when you felt a soft bump under the blanket, pulling it out to see Emma’s stuffed rabbit. She slept with it every night and you knew she’d have trouble without it.

Without a second thought, you grabbed your keys and headed to your car, trying to reach Chan as you drove through the storm.

It took you twice as long to get to his place, and the phone lines had stopped working by the time you pulled in. Candles flickered through the windows and you made the dash to his front door.

“What the fuck?! Are you actually crazy?” Chan said as he pulled you in the house. You were soaking wet just from the few seconds in the rain. You unzipped your jacket and pulled her bunny from under your shirt. “She forgot, Mr. Hopper.”

“Daddy, you’re not supposed to say Fuck.” Emma said coming into the entry way in a tutu and gently taking the plushie from your hand. “Thank you for keeping him dry, and bringing him. He was scared.” She turned in a circle and walked back into the living room.

You smiled softly and turned to leave, but Chan held the door closed. “I’m not letting you drive again.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I got here perfectly fine, didn’t I?”

As if the weather gods were on his side, a loud snap came from across the street.

“Timber!” Emma yelled from the living room.

Chan moved to look out the window next to the door, “Looks like you’re stuck.”

You groaned quietly as you peered outside, noticing a tree fallen down across the road.

It took you a while to settle down. It was weird being in his home, feeling his energy after so long. After a couple glasses of wine, you finally relaxed into the couch a bit.

You laid on your side, flashlight on the bracelet making that was happening on the floor. You smiled as you watched Emma pick out different beads and carefully string them together, but your eyes kept drifting to Chan.

You didn’t remember the last time you saw him so happy. It looked good on him.

His eyes flashed up to catch yours for a second before you quickly moved them back to Emma. A lump in your throat started to grow. You tried to drown it with the wine.

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl. I love you so so much.” You kissed Emma’s forehead a few times before sending her upstairs with Chan.

The tension in the air finally lifted a bit, and you took the opportunity to look around his place. It was nicely decorated, with different paintings and albums on the walls. You walked slowly through the halls until you found his studio.

Your fingers ran slowly along the shelves of his music collection, pulling out a few to admire the cover work. A baby picture of Emma caught your eye, and you slowly walked over to Chan’s desk.

You smiled to yourself, starting to gaze over the other pictures he had out. They were mostly of Emma, no surprise. Though, a small frame with two pictures, sitting directly in the middle of his desk, caught your eye.

A wave of emotions started to hit as you looked at the photos. One was of you, laying in bed sleeping and another was of the two of you when you first met.

Tears started to fall from your eyes, you slowly set the picture back in its place. You turn to leave the room. You stop in your tracks, gasping, seeing Chan standing in the doorway, a glass of dark liquor in hand.

“Sorry.” You start, your eyes focusing on the glass before falling to the ground. He hated drinking. “I was just having a look around. The place is really nice.”

He smiled softly, “thanks.”

He shot back the rest of the liquor, walking over grab the picture you had put down. “This was the morning we found out about Emma.”

You turned your back to him as he leaned against the desk, his eyes following you as you avoided his gaze. The room felt heavy with tension again as it fell silent for a long moment, wind and rain hitting the windows the only sound filling the room.

You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how much you wanted your little family back together. He was your best friend and feeling so drifted apart from him broke your heart.

“The guest room is made up, I threw some clothes for you in change in.”

“Thank you.” You turned to look at him, a few more tears falling. “I’m gonna head up.” You forced a smile and turned to leave.

Chan’s hand caught your wrist before you could make it out, his grip gently against your skin. You turned, looking at him through watery eyes.

Your body unconsciously took a step towards him, and his arms wrapped tightly around your head and shoulders, pulling you into a hug.

It caught you off guard at first. The warmth of his body, his familiar scent. It made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

You finally wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest.

When Chan finally pulled back, he quickly wiped his face and sniffed. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Sleeping was nearly impossible, the noise outside was horrid. The tears hadn’t managed to stop falling and everything was cold since the power was still out.

You had just closed your eyes again when Emma’s soft voice woke you. “What’s wrong baby?”

She clung to Mr. Hopper, “I had a bad dream and now the storm is scary. Can you come sleep with me and Daddy?”

It was only then you noticed Chan in the doorway, half asleep, hair a mess.

You sat up in bed a bit, tucking a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. “I don’t know if daddy would like that sweetie. Why don’t you go with him, he’ll keep you safe.”

“But I want you both.”

Chan insisted it was okay and you let Emma guide you towards his bedroom. You both took a side and let her in the middle.

Emma yawned, snuggling into Chan’s arm while holding onto yours. “Night night mommy and daddy.” She said sleepily.

You kept your eyes on her as she fell asleep, but could feel his gaze on you. Your eyes move to him, meeting with his. You looked at each other for a long moment and it felt like your heart was going to explode.

You smiled softly and let your eyes close.

The quiet sound of chatting woke you up. Emma was sitting up on the bed, babbling away with Chan.

You stretched out groaning, turning on your side to cuddle into Emma.

“Mommy! We’re gonna build a fort, do you wanna help?!”

You happily agreed, quickly washing up before meeting Chan and Emma downstairs. Emma was dragging all the blankets and sheets from the linen closet, and Chan was in the kitchen raiding his pantry.

“Do you need any help?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen.

Chan sighed quietly, turning around with a few random boxes in hand. “I didn’t realize how hard it was to make breakfast without power.”

You grabbed a box of crackers from his hand, peaking into the pantry to check what else he had. “Can you cut up a banana and apple, please?” You ask, setting out some peanut butter, Nutella and granola

He rose an eyebrow at the items you pulled out before grabbing a knife and starting to cut the fruits.

You quickly spread PB on some of the crackers and Nutella on the others. Sprinkled some granola and started to grab the pieces of fruit Chan had cut, placing them on top.

“How did you come up with that so fast?” He asked, lifting Emma into his arms as she came running into the kitchen.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of the makeshift breakfast, “Snacky Crackers for breakfast?” She asked excitedly, reaching over to grab one.

“Special occasions only, and I guess the power being out can count as one.” You laughed, starting to munch. “Emma was the one who came up with it. I wasn’t feeling good one night and she brought me these.”

“I’m kind of a genius cooking person.” Emma said confidently.

“A chef.” You and Chan said at the same time.

After finishing eating, the three of you headed to the living room to build the fort, which ended up taking over the whole living room. You told stories, played board games and found different ways to pass the time.

The power was still out when the evening came, and the tree was still blocking the road out. You had no choice but to spend another night.

You’re not sure what time it was when you woke up from a nightmare, gasping for air and tears falling. They didn’t happen as much as they used to, but the effect always left you anxious and restless for a while.

You pushed out of bed after a few minutes and started pacing up and down the hall. You sang ‘you are my sunshine’ quietly. When you turned to walk the other way, Chan has stepped into the hall.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just having trouble getting back to sleep.”

“Nightmare?” He asked.

You bit your lip gently and nodded, sighing quietly as you started to walk towards the guest bedroom. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Y/N…” Chan said quietly, “Come sleep with me.” He extended his hand to you.

He knew you’d never get back to sleep alone.

You took his hand and let him guide you, crawling into the bed from his side. You flipped on your side to face him as he settled back into bed.

“Come here.” Chan said, sinking down into the bed with one arm opened, making a little spot for you.

You slid up and tucked yourself under his arm, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand his bare chest. Your body calmed almost immediately.

“You didn’t have to do this for me.” You said quietly, your fingers moving slowly across his skin.

“But it helped, didn’t it.”

“It did.” You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.” You moved your self up a bit, placing a gently kiss on his cheek.

Your lips barely left his cheek when he turned his head to catch you, pressing his lips deeply into yours.

Your hand slid up to his neck as you kissed back, a soft moan escaping your lips in between the tender kisses.

His hand rested gently on your hip as the two of you made out.

Chan slowly moved on top of you, his lips moving to your neck, sucking gently on your sweet spot.

“We shouldn’t…” You said quietly. Your body was starting to cave into him.

Honestly, it was driving you a little crazy how bad you did want him. You hadn’t stopped wanting him.

“I know.” Chan said, his breath hot in your ear. “I just miss you so much.”

You lifted his head back to yours, kissing him again as a tear fell from your eye. “I miss you too, Channie.”

The last time you hooked up with him after the breakup was at Emma’s birthday party, almost a full year ago. You hadn’t been with anyone else since him. He was the one.

“You know it’s always been you.” Chan kissed your lips again, “it will always be you.”

You pulled his lips to yours, smiling into your kisses. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, and as if it was some sort of sign, the power came back on.

From down the hall, Emma screamed awake. You and Chan both rolled out of bed instantly, going to her room to see her sitting up in bed, giggling to herself.

“People are scared of the dark, but the lights scared me!”

You shook your head laughing, sending Chan in to help her back to sleep as you went downstairs to turn off things that had been on before the power outage.

Chan was just leaving Emma’s room as you reached the top of the stairs, “She fell back asleep really fast.” He chuckled, his eyes on you as you walked towards him.

When you were almost to him, you slid your panties off from under the oversized shirt you were wearing, tossing them aside before l finishing your walk.

Your hand slid slowly up his chest, “Is daddy going to help me go to sleep too?”

His hand gripped the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a kiss, his other arm swooping down to pick you up from under your leg.

Chan carried you to the bed, you stopped to remind him to lock the door. Emma had almost walked in on your two at her birthday party, thankfully you had just finished.

He lifted you onto the bed, kicking off his pj pants before climbing on the bed, hovering above you. “You know, this is the first time since Emma was born that we’ve had sex twice in under a year.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his arm gently as he leaned down to kiss you. “Should we keep count for the next few months til her birthday?” Chan said, his lips moving to your neck.

“You think you can keep track?” You giggle, reaching down to stroke his cock. He moved up a bit, his hand replacing yours as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly thrusting in.

You gasped a moan as your head fell back, your wet walls expanding from his thick cock. His lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking gently at your skin.

Chan’s hand ran gently on your outer thigh, lifting your leg a bit as he continued to thrust slowly, filling your body with chills and goosebumps.

You cursed quietly as your peak already started to approach, you pulled Chan’s lips back to yours, giving him a deep kiss as your walls started to contract, your wetness dampening the spot underneath you.

His lips moved softly against yours, only lifting the tiniest bit when a few moans and curses left his mouth.

Your body shook gently as he pulled out, the feeling on his warm cum spraying up your torso.

You ran your hands though his hair as you kissed him for a few minutes, unable to stop smiling.

“And I think that’s the fastest we’ve made each other cum.” Chan said smirking.

You covered your face with both hands, laughing into them. “Do you keep track of our whole sex life?”

“Not hard to do when my girl fucks so good every time.” He said, nuzzling his nose between your hands to kiss your lips.

The sun had just started to come up when you and Chan went for a shower. Knowing Emma would be up soon, sleep was going to have to wait.

Sitting on the counter, you happily sipped on a cup of coffee as Chan cooked breakfast, bacon and eggs.

He turned to you while it started to cook, his hands running up your tights as he kissed your lips softly.

“Are you kissing?!” Emma yelled from the entryway, running over to the two of you, hugging Chan’s leg as she looked up at you both with eager eyes.

Chan lifted her onto the counter next to you, placing a kiss on her forehead, “And what if we were?” He asked with a laugh.

Emma made a long thinking sound, “Gross, but only because kissing boys seems icky.”

“How would you know?” You asked

“Rylan kissed me like 500 weeks ago, it was gross. He smelled like farts.”

“You’re not allowed to be kissing boys.” Chan said, pointing the spatula towards her. “Not until you’re 40.”

“You’re 40, right daddy?” Emma asked.

You burst out laughing at her question, and Chan’s facial reaction.

“I’m 25!” He whined, doing a little sulky stomp.

The three of you ate in the kitchen, feeling cozy in the spots you were in. You and Chan couldn’t stop smiling at each other, even if there was still a ton of stuff to figure out.

Once done, Emma ran off to play and you started the dishes.

Your mind had trailed off as the ‘what if’s’ started to creep into your mind. The stress of figuring out how to balance your busy lives without losing each other again.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, leaning on the counter next to you, his hand tucking some hair behind your ear. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just…worried.” You say quietly, finally rinsing the dish you had zoned out washing. “I don’t want us to drift again. I don’t think I could handle it and I don’t want to think about how Emma would deal.”

You started on a word vomit ramble, about how busy life was and how you could barely keep up as is. You had started pacing at some point, hands dripping from the water.

Chan placed both his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in place as you looked at him with blurry eyes. “Quit your job.”

His words took you by surprise, you whispered the tiniest, confused. “What?”

“You have enough connections in the industry, you could easily be a freelancer until someone, someone who knows your worth and how fucking talented you are, signs you.”

It was true that work was stressing you out. You poured your heart and soul into designs, only for them to be shot down.

“I can probably work from home, since I’ve been there long enough. I want us to be a family, for real this time.”

You looked up at him, his face so sincere and confident. It made your heart fell warm, and you knew you could trust him to take care of you both.

“I want that. I want this. I want you. I want us.”

Chan smiled softly, leaning in to gently kiss you. He took your hand and guided you to his studio, “Emma, can you come here please?” He yelled.

Chan sat in his computer chair, pulling you onto his lap and when Emma came skipping in, he lifted her and sat her on his other leg.

“You remember when you told daddy what you asked Santa for?” Chan asked Emma, brushing some curls from her face.

Emma nodded, “For daddy to marry mommy.”

You blushed deeply, scrunching your nose at Emma while smiling uncontrollably. “You silly goose.”

Chan turned in the chair a bit, reaching behind the picture of you he kept in the middle. “Well,” he started, wrapping his arm around Emma and sneaking one around your waist, a small light blue box in hand.

You felt your chest go tight as tears started to well in your eyes, you leaned back a bit to look at Emma, who took the box from his hand and held it happily in hers.

“It doesn’t have to be marriage, but I think it’s time you got this.”

Emma opened the box, a stunning pear shaped Tiffany ring. Chan took it out, holding it up.

“I’m in it forever.” He said looking into your eyes.

You let the tears fall, kissing his lips before holding your ring finger up. He slid the ring on, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Forever.” You whispered against his lips.

Emma jumped off his lap, doing a silly celebration dance and cheer. “You’re married!” She yelled, taking off running into the house. “Marrrrrrried.”

“Cute officiant, where’d you find her?” You laughed.

“My wife, and it’s the best gift she’s ever given me.”

You kissed his lips again, running your hand through his hair. “Is my lovely husband going to help me move?”

“We got married like two seconds ago, and you’ve already got a job for me?” He asked dramatically, his smile gave away that he was joking.

“Just wait til you see the plant watering schedule.” You giggled.

[allthelovehes]

Field Day Reunion* | Part 2

Summary: Harry finally takes Y/N home when Charlie is with his grandmother for the night.

Pairing: Singledad!Harry x Teacher!Y/N

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Lovemaking, oral f receiving, eager babies, exes to lovers?

A/N: I imagine Harry and Y/N to be British in this universe, so they went to highschool from age 11 - 16(ish) and college from 16 - 20(ish). Idk why but I felt the need to specify haha ENJOY LOVES

Harry and Y/N agreed to take things slow for the sake of Charlie. This means that they have been going on dates every now and then, but not every weekend because Harry doesn't want to just drop off his kid at Anne's, so he can go out with this woman. That doesn't mean however that they don't see each other.

Y/N started teaching Charlie's class a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, Harry sees her every day because he is the one who drops Charlie off at school and picks him up later in the day. Those little moments are filled with loving glances and private jokes but also Harry teasingly flirting with the love of his life.

Yes, Harry is absolutely smitten by this woman. Given their history, he now believes that he shouldn't have let her go back then. Yes, being high school sweethearts who are going to different colleges isn't the perfect scenario for two love birds. They didn't want to do the long-distance thing when they were only 17, but Harry now knows it would've all been worth it.

He doesn't regret their decisions though. If the two of them never broke up, Harry would've never become a dad to Charlie and he wouldn't want to miss him for the world. The kid is his life, he'd literally give everything to see that little cheeky smile on the four-year-old's face.

Anne was a big fan of Y/N when they were teenagers, she was the sweetest girl so of course she approved of Harry dating her. So when Harry told his mom how Y/N is now Charlie's new teacher she was excited, to say the least. But when he told his mother that they had been on a date, her heart was filled with love. She was rooting for his son, finally meeting that happiness he was so dearly craving.

So, from the moment Harry announces to his mom about him and Y/N taking it slow, Anne has done anything in her power to help Harry out. Taking over babysitting duty whenever she can and just keeping the little boy out of her son's way. Hinting at her son how she's free next Saturday, in case Charlie wants to come play at grandma's house. Just, everything.

And that's exactly why, this afternoon, he decides to take his mom up on that offer. Harry and Y/N have been on four official dates so far and not once has he taken her home. It felt a bit too forward, too soon. But today was different, Harry invited her over to his house, show her around and make his intentions very clear, she's a keeper.

“Char, come on. Put your shoes on, grandma is waiting for you.” Harry tells his son, picking up the overnight bag he packed for his son.

“Where are you going, daddy? I wanna go too!” The little boy cries, pouting at his dad with such innocence.

“I'm sorry, buddy. But you are staying with grandma.” Harry explains to his son, feeling a bit guilty. But he also didn't want to specify anything about his plans for today. See, Charlie is the biggest fan of Y/N at school and it warms Harry's heart to see him so fond of her. But that only gives him more reasons to keep his love life in the shadows for his son.

“But why?” Charlie whines, but knowing it's already a lost battle, he slips on his shoes in silence. Harry shakes his head, suppressing a giggle. Once a kid starts asking why, you know there is no ending to the discussion.

“Let's go, Char.” Harry states instead, dragging his boy out of their house and into the car.

After he drops Charlie off and Anne's, he drives straight back home. His heart pounding with nerves. He'd be lying if he said that he isn't a little bit anxious right now. He hasn't had a girl over for years on end, not in this context. And he's really hoping she's going to want to stay over. He told her to bring an overnight bag, just in case she wanted to stay. He also mentioned how Charlie is sleeping at his mother's place, hoping it would send the right message, but he wasn't quite sure.

When he arrives home, he finds Y/N just parking her car a little further down the street. She's on time, more like half an hour early. Harry lets out a nervous giggle and he hopes that it isn't too obvious that he's anxious right now.

“Eager much?” He jokes as soon as she reaches his front yard. She giggles slightly embarrassed and Harry simply wants to kiss that cute blush off her face.

“I didn't want to run late. Traffic, you know.” She explains, a small smile gracing her face.

“Relax, babe. I'm glad you are early, actually.” Harry smiles sweetly, pulling her in for a quick hug and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/N lets out a flirtatious giggle, getting on her toes to press her lips on his. Harry instantly melts into the kiss, holding her tightly against his chest.

“C'mon, let's go inside.” Harry whispers, pulling away a bit hesitantly. Y/N softly nods in agreement and Harry loosens his grip on her, only to grab her hand and guide her inside. “Welcome to our home.”

“It looks lovely.” Y/N compliments, letting her eyes roam around the living room. You can tell by the way his space is organised that Harry is a neat person, the room is filled with all things the father and son love dearly. A nice TV hangs against the wall, some family pictures are scattered around the wall above the couch and the wall across the room holds shelves filled with movies, video games and records. It's all Harry and it takes the man's breath away knowing that she likes his place.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a tour.” Harry says, tugging on her arm and guiding her through his entire house. She had already seen the small hallway when she first entered the house, and a glimpse of the living room, but there is more. There is an open kitchen concept which leads out into the backyard with big sliding doors. It's really neat and pretty, every one of the rooms in the house has little Harry vibes. The house screams family home, it suits Harry really well.

When they finish the tour downstairs, Harry hesitates to show her his upstairs living space. He feels like taking her upstairs is something very intimate, maybe even too forward, yet he would love to show her around. With an unsure glance at her, Harry points his finger to the stairs, silently asking if she wants to continue the tour.

Y/N nods softly and gives him a sweet, yet excited smile. “Let's go, I'm very curious.” She says causing Harry to chuckle and they continue their walk through his house.

“Okay, so this is Charlie's room and his bathroom.” Harry explains. Y/N takes it all in as if he's giving her the time of her life. Harry is beyond grateful because he really does love her and he hopes that she is going to melt into their lives and live here one day.

They move over to the other side of the hallway, Harry gestures at the next room, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. Y/N opens the door carefully when Harry speaks up. “This is uh- my room.” She pushes the door open further and carefully walks inside.

“This is very you.” She giggles when he walks in after her. Harry doesn't know why, but a blush creeps up his cheeks. Y/N isn't mocking him or making fun of him, her giggle sounds very fond, maybe she is just as nervous as he is.

The bedroom is decorated with warm colours and it features a king-sized bed that looks comfy and cosy. Y/N's gaze is glued to the bed, no doubt in her mind that she'd like to sleep in a bed like that. Especially if that means Harry would be right next to her.

She doesn't ponder her thoughts for too long because she knows that it will end with an almost unbearable aching between her legs.

When they dated in high school, they were only 15 years old. So sleeping with one another was out of the question. They kept dating until they were 16 and 17, but it still didn't feel right for them at that moment to take that step. Now that they are both adults and they want to take things a bit more seriously, Harry would like to finally take the next step in their relationship. Maybe tonight.

“Uhm- so behind you is my ensuite.” He points to the door behind her, gesturing at it with a little nod.

“Oh my.” Y/N's attention is immediately turned to the door when Harry mentions it. She slowly opens the door, stepping into the big room. It's modern and clean, and oh so spacious. There's a walk-in shower and a big tub next to it.

Harry just watches her in awe as she explores the bathroom. She almost seems mesmerised by his place and that makes his heart flutter. It's like she belongs in here and it is her house.

Y/N makes her way back to Harry with a dreamy look in her eyes. She wraps her arms around Harry's neck and pulls him close. She sighs. “Your home looks very lovely, Harry.”

“Not as lovely as you.” He blurts out in a weak attempt at flirting, but it comes off a bit nervous so he might have failed miserably.

“You're cheesy.” Y/N giggles. Harry tightens his grip on her waist and pulls her impossibly closer, flashing her a dimpled smile. Y/N leans in and lets her lips softly brush his in a very gentle kiss. Harry immediately melts into the kiss, tilting his head down to kiss her deeper, but she abruptly pulls away after only a second.

“I- uh- I'll go put my bag in this room, if that's okay?” She asks and Harry crooks his head to the side.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Depends on what you're thinking.” She winks and pulls away from Harry.

“That you are going to stay over.” Harry flashes her a flirtatious smile.

“Exactly.” Y/N nods in agreement, a smug smile on her face and a glimpse of hope flashing in her eyes. “If that's still alright with you?”

“Of course, you don't have to ask.” Harry reassures, making her grin widely. He squeezes her hand for a second and then releases her hand, letting her step away and put her bag in the room.

Harry is beyond excited now, hoping for them to take their relationship to the next level. If they hadn't broken up back in high school, Harry might've even proposed by now. Yeah, he'd love to be married to her one day. But maybe it's too soon to be thinking about marriage, he remembers how it felt to be with her, back when they were only kids, hopelessly in love. He wants that back, now more than ever. ***

Y/N comes back downstairs to see that Harry is already making dinner. He greets her with a wide smile and places a soft peck on her lips.

“Mmh, what's that smell?” She asks curiously, leaning on the counter in the kitchen and watching Harry move around confidently.

“You, I reckon.” He smirks. Y/N lightly shakes her head, failing to hide her smile. “I'm making you pasta, love.”

“Mmmh, my favourite.”

“I know.” Harry smiles proudly.

Harry lets her know how she can pick a wine if she wants, and where she can find some glasses. She of course doesn't miss the obvious fact that Harry has planned everything ahead. That certainly turns her on.

They eat in a comfortable silence, their ankles playfully tangling with one another. Harry does the dishes while Y/N takes a second in the living room to scroll through her phone. As soon as the kitchen is clean, Harry joins her on the couch. He lifts her legs, placing them on his lap and letting her lean into his side.

“Charlie was a little upset to leave.” Harry says all of a sudden. Y/N chuckles, knowing just how clingy that four-year-old is to his dad. She finds that unbelievably adorable.

“Is he going to be mad at us?” She asks, not knowing how to proceed. She doesn't want the cute and innocent little boy to dislike her in any way.

“Us? No. Me? Maybe. I haven't told him about us yet, don't want him to tell the whole class and make it awkward for you at work.” Harry explains causing Y/N to smirk and nod, loving that he cares that much.

“So what does he think we are?” Y/N pries.

“I've told him you are my friend and that I like you a whole lot.” Harry tells her, making her smile.

“A whole lot, huh?” Y/N giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. Harry flashes her a cheeky smile and runs his fingers through her hair. “Sounds like you have a little crush.” She teases.

“Hmm, kinda do. Can't help it though.” Harry admits and leans into her, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Y/N squirms under his touch, silently letting him know that this is okay. Then, she dips her head slightly and closes her lips on his.

The kiss instantly deepens and Y/N quickly crawls into Harry's lap, getting a better angle to kiss him passionately. His hands rest on her hips and hold her in place as he slowly kisses his way down her neck. Y/N closes her eyes, taking in the touch and taste of Harry. God, he really does turn her on.

So far they hadn't had the opportunity to make out like this. It's all been dates outside of either of their homes and kisses over the console of his car or at her front door. Feeling her thighs on each side of him and her lips working his like it's her favourite pastime makes Harry understand how badly he wants this to work out.

She lets her arms drape around his neck as her mouth finds his again, this time kissing him hungrily. Her lips sloppily brush against his, her teeth leaving grazes against his already tender bottom lip. He's just as eager to make out with her as she is.

She eventually breaks away, though, just to reconnect with those green gems Harry calls his eyes. He gives her a warm smile and his thumbs run under her shirt.

“You are so beautiful, love. Always been.” Harry murmurs against her lips before going in for another kiss. The gesture takes her back to high school, them sharing kisses on her porch after he walked her home from school. Always ending with a tight hug and whispers that went something like this.

But she's not in high school anymore, and so are her urges. Now, she simply can't get enough of Harry, and by the feeling of a firm swelling in his pants, she knows he is affected as much as she. It's quite the ego boost.

Harry had spent many nights, imagining how his first time making love to her would go. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heat deliciously dripping, his name leaving her lips in a quivering cry when they both reach the peak of their pleasure. But he always kept the fantasy bundled up in his mind, he knew that it was too soon for that. Not anymore, though, because Y/N makes it very clear to him that she wants him.

“Harry.” She whimpers and rolls her hips into his. Her core grinds against his crotch and she swears she could make herself come from this. Just humping his bulge will be enough to have her reeling.

“I'm taking that as your consent, love.” Harry murmurs, pecking her lips. But she doesn't reply, she just hums in agreement. Enough for Harry to lift the two of them up, causing her to squeal slightly. He carries her upstairs and drops her on the bed.

It's happening.

Harry climbs on top of her, pressing her down with his weight. His lips crash back on hers and she accepts his passionate kisses with just the same amount of passion. She tumbles her hands around his neck, making sure he stays exactly where he is right now.

After a few minutes of more intense making out, Harry needs to come up for air. His chest is rising and falling and his hair is a hot mess, Y/N giggles teasingly, running her fingers through it to arrange it neatly.

“You're gorgeous.” Harry utters and places a delicate kiss on her jaw, Y/N lets out a shaky breath. Her heart soars when Harry compliments her. Her chin tilts towards him, their mouths closing in for more sucking and licking and biting and tugging. “But I'm dying to know how gorgeous you are underneath all this.”

She can't help the blood that rushes to her cheeks, and she can hardly breathe. Harry reaches down, lifting her shirt over her head. He wastes no time as soon as the fabric passes over her body. He's sucking the skin at her shoulder with eagerness.

“Fuck.” She curses as his teeth nip into her, his lips brushing it so faintly as soon as there's the red and purplish proof he's marked her. For a moment he feels guilty, thinking it's inappropriate, but he can't help but want this. He wants to become one with her and claim her as his own.

Harry gently kneads her breast with his hands, eliciting an erotic moan from her. Y/N isn't shy about her body. Her hand reaches to her back and she unclasps her bra, pulling it off and letting her boobs bounce freely. Harry gulps at the sight, they are just as magnificent as he had imagined them a few years back.

Harry kisses his way down her upper body and without a second thought, takes a nipple into his mouth. The man toys with it with his tongue, making Y/N's centre burn with desire. She hisses at the warmth of his mouth sucking and licking and nibbling. He then moves over to the other nipple, giving it equal attention before Y/N groans and speaks up.

“Fuck, I- I can't take it any longer, Harry.” Y/N whimpers, feeling her core starting to pulsate. She needs him there and she needs it now.

“Tell me what you want then, love.” Harry husks, his cock painfully straining in his trousers.

“Touch me. Eat me out, lick me clean. I don't care, but for fuck's sake-“ She heaves, her hands roaming down to the lining of Harry's trousers.

He doesn't need to be told twice, within a few seconds he is standing next to the bed, tugging off her trousers with her panties. Before quickly stripping down, he catches her eye looking longingly at the obvious erection in his boxers. She has been waiting for this to happen.

Y/N smiles as she observes him, he is so beautiful to her. His every flaw is precious. Y/N sees how his veins are straining underneath the thin layer of his skin as his fists clench around his bed sheets. How those plump pink lips are slightly parted, allowing his rapid, ragged breathing to escape.

Harry palms himself through his briefs, stroking his erection while keeping his eyes focused on the woman beneath him. With her lying on his bed in all her beauty, legs spread, his name on her parted lips. She is truly the epitome of sheer loveliness.

Harry kneels down at the side of the bed before he wraps his arms around her thighs to pull her closer to the edge. “You sure, baby?” He asks once more, although Y/N has been very clear with what she wants.

“Positive.” She mutters and in less than a second, Harry gently presses his lips against her folds. Kissing all around her pussy but never quite touching the most intimate parts. This drives her insane and her hands reach out to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer to her center. “Please.” She whimpers needily.

Harry doesn't make her wait, instead, he runs one finger through her folds before spreading them apart as his tongue prods over the heated skin. A loud grunt escapes his lips when he realises how sweet she tastes. It's everything he could've imagined and more. He then gets to work, flicking his tongue over her clit expertly, making Y/N buck her hips in appreciation. She pants, trying not to explode from pleasure at the feeling.

His free hand slides up to her lower stomach to hold her down and withhold her from squirming too much. Her juices are escaping from inside her, soiling his lips and chin and the duvet. Harry just can't get enough. His thumb scratches at her pelvis and as Y/N looks down, she sees him bobbing up and down eagerly, his eyes closed shut as he devours her. She hisses at the obscene sight.

“Ah- f-fuck!” Y/N stutters out, Harry now digging his fingers into her and slightly curling them inside her, hitting her g-spot and bringing her closer to her orgasm. “Harry!” She warns, her eyes practically rolling back at how he licks her, but that doesn't make him stop, no, he speeds up even.

His lips are locked on her clit, sucking as his fingertips massage her inner walls and let her slick seep out. She can't keep her legs still if she tries, her toes are curling and her thighs are shaking.

“Mmmh.” Harry moans lowly, tasting her juices as they keep flowing, signalling she won't last a second longer. “Come for me, darling.” He releases for a split second only to murmur those words, causing her body to respond with a shattering climax.

“Oh-ffu-Harry!” Y/N cries out as the burning knot inside her undoes and explodes. It's nothing like she's ever felt before, men never really seemed to know how to satisfy her, but Harry is all it takes for her to let go and forget about all the bad sex she ever had. She gasps loudly, riding out her orgasm as he keeps working her gently with his fingers and mouth. “Jesus fuck.”

Her legs fall to her sides. Harry comes up and wipes his mouth clean, chuckling at how Y/N is gasping for air. Her chest heaving as she does her best to try and breathe. “Good?” He hums and kisses her collarbone as he awaits a response.

“Too good.” She chokes out a laugh as soon as she can catch her breath again. She reaches down to caress his cheek, causing him to glance up. “Need a taste.” She huffs, as her hand goes down to his cock. Harry smirks and stops her. Gaining her attention with a quirked brow, indicating she doesn't understand.

“I desperately want to be inside of you, and I won't be able to last as long as I plan to if your puffy lips would work their magic on my cock right now.” He tells her bluntly, keeping his lust-filled gaze on her. And honestly, that might've just been the sexiest thing anyone has ever told her. She gives him a coy nod before he props himself up. He pushes his boxers down his legs and hovers over her.

Harry reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom while Y/N finally has her tiny fingers wrapped around Harry's erect and dripping cock. It's long and hard, the tip glistening and soft. Her hand runs down his shaft, paying close attention to the pattern of those prominent veins. His big hand reaches for her wrist.

“Hate to stop you, love, but you'll be the death of me.” Harry breathes as he slowly rolls the condom down his shaft. Y/N smiles adoringly, holding back laughter. Harry shakes his head amused, glad he brings that same childlike chuckle to Y/N's face that he used to adore when they were younger.

Then Y/N's face changes to surprise as Harry wraps his arms around her upper body to place her further on the bed, her head now resting on his soft pillows. Harry takes his position above her and cups her chin as he gently kisses her.

“Are you ready for me?” He asks. His cock now directly at her entrance, he holds it with his hand, teasing her.

“Yes, H. Please, yes.” She eagerly replies. So Harry presses a firm kiss on her mouth as he carefully pushes himself in. Just the tip before he pulls back again, teasing her incredibly slowly. Y/N groans in annoyance but lets him. Instead, she circles her arms around his neck and lets her fingertips draw nonsensical doodles on his scalp.

Her eyes shut when he finally thrusts himself forward, inserting his cock fully and feeling her pussy clenching around him. At first, he moves slowly, deliberately waiting for the satisfying burn to fade. His palms are pressed flat next to her shoulders as he secures his balance above her. She just can't keep her moans inside, not when he fucks her with all the love in the world.

“Fuck.” Harry grits, noticing how tight she is. Y/N keeps her eyes closed and lets him take control, simply doing what she feels is right, and that is responding to Harry's pace and needs. She finds solace in his sweet scent and she's sure she's addicted to it from now on.

As his hips rock, he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N's walls clench around him as his pace picks up. Her slick dripping out of her, coating their inner thighs as he slowly dips in and out.

“Give me your leg.” He says as he taps his fingers on her right thigh. Y/N obediently pulls her leg up and Harry positions himself a bit differently, the tip of his cock hammering against her cervix, reaching spots she didn't know could feel so good.

He places her leg on his shoulder and holds it in place with his arm wrapped around her knee. The newfound angle allows him to fuck her deeper and Harry can't hold himself back anymore. He slams into her, she moans in pleasure when he picks up the pace, making their sweaty bodies become one.

“G-goddamn, love.” He grunts, loving how they move as one. The muscles of his abdomen tense up under his skin with every hard thrust he delivers, he simply can't bear to slow down his movement. Harry continues to rut in and out, bringing both of them higher.

His left-hand reaches down, pressing down on her pubic bone for extra stimulation as his thumb finds her clit. Harry then knows he won't last long. Feeling her pussy already milking his cock, he knows she is close too.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, feeling the butterflies in her stomach building up again as Harry hits her G-spot every time he slams back into her.

“H-Harry- shit.” Y/N pants rapidly. She can feel how her juices are dripping from her and covering Harry's dick, definitely creating a wet spot underneath her bum on the duvet. She rolls her eyes back. She can't hold out for much longer.

“Nghh, yeah? Come for me, again, baby.” Harry groans as his pace starts to get sloppy. Y/N loves how his brows furrow and his jaw tightens up every time he pushes in.

“Aah- I'm-“ She starts and her walls clench around him, squeezing his hard cock inside her as she comes. The sensation is too much for Harry to bear. His hot liquid explodes into the rubber as her warm pussy milks him.

“Mmph.” Harry moans and with the last bit of power in his limp body, he slowly rocks back and forth to ride out their orgasms until they both collapse, tired and sweating messes.

“God, I can't believe that just happened.” Y/N puffs as they lie next to each other for a few moments. Harry hums, rolling to her side and pulling out of her in the process. Y/N catches his glance, seeing how his green eyes look like they shine even in the dark, love and affection radiating from them.

“I finally had sex with the girl of my dreams.” He murmurs, scooting a bit closer as Y/N feels him reach to her hand to twine their fingers together. She giggles at his sweetness before opening her mouth to speak.

“I now understand why you didn't want Charlie here today.” She remarks, earning a playful look from Harry. She brings her fingers up to brush the hair off his forehead. “I love you.” Y/N suddenly utters, surprising herself. “I mean it.”

“I love you too.” Harry says without a second thought before placing his wet lips on hers. It's not like they hadn't said I love you to each other when they were younger, but adult I love you's are different, stronger, more meaningful. Y/N grins, nudging her nose against his cheek and pecking his lips.

“We should do something about the stickiness, shouldn't we?” Harry says running his finger on the inside of her thigh. Y/N chuckles as she nods her head in agreement, slightly ashamed but just couldn't care less right now. She's happy, Harry's happy and that's all that matters.

Harry picks her up from the bed again, gaining another squeal as he carries her to the bathroom. They hop in the shower and their touches remain gentle. Just soft kisses and long glances. Once they're all washed up, they slide back between the sheets in an after-sex, shower-fresh bliss.

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[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex 8: Opener

Finally getting into the technical side of things, and I will attest: @baelpenrose and I decided that the next several chapters are probably the only time the really technical stuff happens on screen.

It was all, undoubtedly, an absolutely nightmare to get right, simply because I am a subject matter expert in one of the areas, he is in the other, and... yeah. It got complicated very quickly. But hopefully that pays off!

Say you have a little faith in me

Just close your eyes and let me lead

Follow me home

Need to have a little trust in me

Just close your eyes and let me lead

Follow me home

To where the lonely ones roam

Digital Daggers, “Where the Lonely Ones Roam” 

For the next handful of days, I heard from Nils sporadically.  The first couple of days consisted of just being updated that he was still alive, promises that he was eating something other than drugs and coffee, and one celebratory announcement that he had showered without drowning - which, admittedly, was kind of gross since that was around day three, but I didn’t have to smell it, so I left it alone.

It was around the fifth day that he sent me an address.  Not the hacker cafe, and nowhere in my neighborhood.  I was warned to bring my own coffee under threat of instant and strongly suggested to bring a change of clothes.  Part of me started to type back a quip about the kind of girl he thought I was, before sense won over and I deleted it.

“Not for anything weird - well, not for anything that isn’t our kind of weird, anyway. This is gonna take a while.” 

Totally reassuring, I thought as I started throwing stuff into my bum-around bag. Toothbrush, water bottle, battery bank for my phone… after a bit of consideration I tossed in extra socks, because there were few things I hated worse than wet socks.  Laptop and all its gear went into my backpack, and I headed to the front door.  Mama and Baba weren’t home from work, so I left a note taped to the fridge and one on my bedroom door just in case. Heading out to a friend’s for a school project. Probably going to be there overnight, took clothes just in case. I’ll have my phone. Love.

A bus, a subway trip, and a hour and a half later, I was walking to the address Nils had sent, suppressing the urge to look around suspiciously.  The address was in an area I generally avoided on foot, and if something brought me here I took a taxi - even if I was only going a couple blocks.  I muttered prayers to any deity listening as I arrived at the location, a tall building covered in graffiti, with what windows were still intact covered in makeshift grates or bars.

Nils was standing right outside, looking around for me, and spotted me as I approached, waving me over. He had slight circles under his eyes, and a slight five o’clock shadow, but he was intent, grinning slightly. “Lash, good to see you!” 

“Yeah, good to see you’re alive and I haven’t been getting messages from your ghost,” I joked drily before glancing around. “Although, I’m still not convinced I haven’t somehow taken a bus to some underworld. You do know my kidneys aren’t worth as much as you think, right? AB neg blood, terrible for donation.”

“I assure you you are more likely to be solicited for drug purchases or asked if you’ve considered sex work than you are to be black bagged and have your organs sold here. I say this having had both happen to me within a week of moving.” His voice was annoyingly casual. “I do apologize for the walk though. Come in, I made tea.”

My eyes widened. “Wait. ‘Moved’. You mean you live here?”

“I mean, we’re not doing the thing where I live. We are talking where I live. We’re doing the thing at this old mall that still has power where I set up a router in the crawlspace a while ago. But I figured we’d talk here first? But yeah, I live here.”

“Doing this thing at an old mall, cool, cool…” I responded, laughing in something like relief. “But you want to talk where you live. Which is here.” I waved a hand at the half blown-out street lights and nearby sewer grate before waggling it at the graffiti and boarded up windows. “You live here. Voluntarily.”

“My apartment has snacks. And coffee. And tea. If I leave those things in the shitty ‘Doing super illegal L33t Hacker Shit’ den I set up in an abandoned mall, my not-home evil lair gets overrun by vermin. So yeah, talk here. Probably come back here for like. Netflix or some shit to celebrate.” He paused for a beat. “Also, yes. I live here. Away from the really rich friends of my parents who would potentially see me and tell my family what shit I’m up to and what kind of trouble I’m getting into, then I hear about how much I’m screwing up our reputation, how could I be so ungrateful, blah, blah blah, it’s easier to stay as far away as possible from any of their friends. Besides,” he said, slowly. “This is a lot more real than anything I saw when I was a kid.” It felt like there was more he could say, but wasn’t going to - a refreshing change from how he’d been the last several days. 

“Your family, your cow, etc,” I muttered, looking around again and resisting the urge to wipe my hands off against my pants. “Still, I feel like I need to introduce you to our lord and savior ‘Any Deity Who Will Convince You Self-Flagellation is Not Penance’ or something.”  Before he could respond, I waved my hands in a shooing gesture. “Come on, let’s go inside and you can introduce me to your six-legged roommates.”

Ushering me forward with a comically formal sweep, Nils buzzed me into his building - I was honestly shocked it was needed, but it calmed me somewhat. We made our way up a couple flights of grungy-looking stairs, and I instantly felt guiltier the further we went: for all that the stairwell looked filthy, it was extremely well lit, bleach-scented, and not a single stair creaked thanks to what looked like various ages of patches.

The city may not care, but the residents certainly seemed to.

On the third floor, we exited the stairwell and made our way to a very nondescript door.  All three deadbolts and the hinges moved without a sound, and Nils stood to block my entrance, drawing himself to his full height, chin up. 

“Lash, O caller of bullshit, expert at puncturing egos, enter the portal to the domain of the greatest hacker and dumbest bitch of the age, and see if you can find a roach in sight, for nothing enters here without my permission. I am Nils Andover, lord of this tiny apartment and a terror of cyberspace. Enter, and enjoy my hospitality.” He spoke with a ridiculous faux-accent to top it off, which wasn’t quite British but might have been his attempt at doing a Victorian Crackhead. 

No amount of self control could keep me from giggling and cursing myself for doing so. I stepped through the door, surprised by how clean and pristine it was on the inside.  Still, I reminded myself that I brought spare socks as I toed my shoes off and set them beside the door before taking another step. “Masala chai?” I asked, sniffing carefully.

“You said become your Uncle’s best customer.” 

“Tch,” I clucked. “I did.” Suddenly, I realized what he said. “Wait,” I gasped, “you think Mr. Yildiz is my uncle??” I covered my mouth to hide a smirk.

Nils paused with embarrassment. “Maybe. You don’t seem the type to call people uncle unless they’re related by blood, marriage, or adoption, so…”

I managed to sit on the arm of the couch before gasping for air. “Nils… Oh my… hooo culture difference, okay…” With a more controlled breath, I composed myself.  Poor guy looked something like a wet cat in his confusion. “Lots of cultures use the term Uncle or Auntie as a term of respect. Something…less formal than Sir or Ma’am is the closest I can explain. So, he’s not my Uncle, he’s just Uncle. Every young person’s. Baba and Mama call him Brother, blah blah blah.”

The look of shocked embarrassment was replaced with complete comprehension. “Ah. Gotcha. That makes perfect sense. Sorry about that.” He blinked and absorbed that for a moment, setting a steaming cup of tea in front of me.

“Now, I’ve been reflecting on what you said, managed to look at what I’d have to do to get the liens out on homes, vehicles, and businesses. Will say this - there’s a little layer of complication for how they hold onto liens for state compliance. We can release most to the holders outright, but some of them its going to be required for us to release them to both the holders and to their city or county halls at the same time for archiving. That is, just barely, on this side of being possible.” 

He took a breath and waffled his hand as he took a sip from the tea. “The trick is that we have to have all the malware and spyware to do it ready to roll well in advance of the attack, and we have to be able to shoot it all in, operating, and releasing all liens simultaneous to the attack itself, to be able to use the attack as a smokescreen for what’s happening. If we do it before the attack, the bank can use physical records to re-upload the destroyed digital ones, and if we do it after, we’re going to cost a lot of innocent people their cars, homes, businesses.”

I was more shocked than I should have been that he thought it through to such a degree.  Yes, I had practically screamed this at him less than a week ago.  No, I was not used to people actually listening to a word I said.  It was kind of flatt - no.

Sounding somewhere between exhausted and frustrated, he added. “There’s…probably a lot of reasons this hasn’t been tried, to be honest. Did I mention that even if this goes right we need to be able to punch in, get the worms loaded, and then databomb the shit out of everything within a few minutes?”

“Oh, joy…” I responded with what I hoped was very clearly fake enthusiasm before draining my tea and grabbing my bum-bag to dig through it. Without looking up, I admitted my shortcomings. “I don’t think you and I can make that happen in… what, twenty-five, thirty minutes?”

“Twenty.”

“Even better,” I grunted as I grabbed my thermos. Unscrewing it, I refilled my cup with high octane ambrosia before offering it to Nils. “No matter how good you are, I don’t think the two of us are going to make that happen in twenty minutes.”

Nils took the coffee and sipped, smiling slightly. “Yeah. There’s someone in my network who may have an in, if only because he’s worked on and off at vendor sites in a lot of banks, but I’m not sure how down he’d be with the overall plan. He’s really good, but he tends to avoid extremely high-risk stuff. Rather keep the “racist hicks as pawns” bit out of it, when we talk to him. And if there’s anyone in your network who might be able to join, I’m open to suggestions. The QAnon cannon fodder stays between us.”

I thought it over. “There is… well, I’ll admit. He’s older, one of those ‘I wrote the internet’ types, so the social con part probably won’t go over well, but thankfully he likes knowing as little as possible outside of what he needs to do.  I’ll reach out to him, worst case, we have double the help.” 

“Let’s see whose guy answers first?” Nils said, not really asking and already picking up his phone.

I had the good grace to take a deep inhale of caffeinated goodness before savoring the flavor.  Then I grabbed my phone and messaged Bishop.  Nils’ got a response before I had even typed the message, but I chalked that up to my habit of messaging Bishop more details than most, knowing he wouldn’t go to the police if he turned down the job.  The man had a whole ass hydroponic set up in his basement, and I’d seen it - he wasn’t going to the cops on me unless I killed someone.

“Lash, is there some reason you and Nothing are messaging me on the same day, at the same time, about what I’m pretty sure is the same job?” 

I didn’t move my head, but looked through my eyelashes at Nils, who wasn’t showing any signs of being called out. Carefully, I texted back. “I didn’t know you were acquainted.  Now I’m intrigued. U n or not?”

“I didn’t know you two were acquainted. And I’m in mostly to see what that’s going to look like, Baklava.” 

“Did you already tell Nothing?”

“Yeah, I told Creampuff I needed to see this. I’ll be there in ten. Try not to blow anything up between the two of you before I get there. And if you brought coffee, save me 2.”

I smirked and slowly screwed the cap on my thermos. “My guy will be here soon. He’s pretty excited.”

“Mine’s on his way, should be here in ten.” Nils paused. “He seemed more concerned.”

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, I reminded myself. “I have dirt on my guy, so I’ll admit I gave him more info up front than I do most.” Seven more minutes…

“Yeah, makes sense. So, in the meantime, uh. If I were to order pizza, anything you’d want on it? It’s uh. Gonna be a long day and we’re gonna want something to eat.” 

“Small with anchovies,” I said automatically. “I’ll eat it in the hall, don’t worry about the smell.”

“Absolutely the fuck you will not - you’re a guest. I’ll handle the smell if it’s a problem.” Nils was smiling, faintly again, as he pulled up the Mountain Mike menu. 

“I am going to guess you’ve never been in the vicinity of an anchovy pizza, so when you change your mind, let me know.” I was used to it… as much as I loved the opportunity to have one, I was well aware of how long the smell clung to anything in the room for days at a time.

“I have not, it is the principle of the thing.” He moved, clearly feeling awkward. “We don’t have much to do but kill time until he gets here, so like. What do you do for fun?”

“First, if it’s not too late: order extra lemon wedges with whatever you can,” I added. Least I could do. “Second… I watch a lot of anime, doodle, and sit on a bridge scaring people into thinking I’m a jumper.  There really isn’t anything else, unless you consider a semi-unhealthy relationship with music.”

“Requesting a few lemon wedges. I also watch a lot of anime, listen to a ton of music, sometimes a bit of gaming. Not a lot of fun in person, to be honest. Used to have a friend I’d hang out with, but you met me the day of that funeral, so, yeah, I’m fairly boring now.” He leaned back on the couch and offered me the spot further away from him, presumably to make me more comfortable. “How’d you get into voice acting?” 

“Deliberately,” I surrendered, looking mournfully at my thermos and wishing I had brought a larger one. “It took a ton of effort and practice, and a lot of voicing my own animations - “ I was cut off by the buzzing of someone requesting entrance. Bishop? Or Nils’ person? It wasn’t nearly long enough to be the actual food.

Nils buzzed the person in, and within a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Nils opened it and grinned. “Harvey, been a while. You’ve been quiet. It’s good to see you again man.”

Bishop was standing there, glowering between the two of us. “So. One more time. Why the fuck are you two hanging out, and what are you contacting me for?”

[thessalian]

Thess vs Productivity

It’s only half past twelve and I have got so much done today.

It’s particularly weird because while I went to bed at a halfway reasonable hour, I still woke up before 10am. Though that might have had something to do with a text alert from my GP saying that they’re arranging a phone appointment with me in a week and a half or so regarding my blood test results. I guess the thought of “Okay, I only got the blood drawn on Monday so if I’ve got results coming in this soon, something’s up”, tempered with, “But they’re not trying to speak to me immediately immediately so it can’t be life-threatening” is probably going to kick-start your morning.

Quick trip to the corner shop, and then I started up my slow cooker stew. I turned it on about an hour ago and already the flat’s starting to smell amazing. As per usual, I took liberties with the recipe - I added a potato, I threw in some sage and rosemary as well as the bay leaves and thyme they asked for, I at least doubled the amount of garlic they asked for (three cloves for a 4+ serving dish is all they asked for; clearly they have not met me), and I spiced the meat with some paprika and garlic pepper before I tossed it into the slow cooker. I also may have used less thyme than the original recipe calls for, but I can’t be sure because they asked for “half a pack” and I was getting the herbs from the balcony garden so fuck if I know how much is in a pack. Anyway, the only other real issue here is having had to move my kettle. There’s just about enough space on the counter but I don’t have any wall outlets spare in the kitchen and I had to borrow the power strip I had in the kitchen for my work-from-home setup. I’ll get another one eventually, but for now, if I want coffee, I’ll just have to plug the kettle into one of the living room sockets. It’s fine.

Also I’d forgotten that I boiled up some brine for more refrigerator dill pickles last night, so that it’d cool overnight and be ready by morning. So once I was done sorting out the stew, I spent some time putting garlic cloves, sprigs of dill, and cucumber bits into jars and then pouring salty vinegar water over top. Sounds far less fancy to say it that way, but that is what I did. There’s starting to be a shortage of room in the refrigerator, even though I did at least clear enough space for the jars when I removed the meat for the stew. Of course, now I’m going to have to wiggle things around a lot to find enough room for the stew, but one thing at a time. I think I can manoeuvre some things on the top shelf.

Anyway, even after all that, I decided to run the vacuum cleaner. Not my favourite job, but I’d been putting it off, so since I was apparently feeling it today, I got it done. Honestly, I’d be a lot better with it if the carpet in here wasn’t so awful. Hell, I don’t even want carpet, especially not this off-peach beige monstrosity that clings to fibres and fluff so hard that my mid-range handheld Dyson does nothing. (I especially don’t want it in the damn bathroom, but that’s another thing.) But still, probably better to at least try to deal with the dust.

Now that’s all done and I can actually relax. On one level I’d love to do something fun, but on the other, I kind of want to take a nap. That’s what happens when you wake up earlier than you wanted to and run around being productive for the remaining couple of hours of your morning, I guess.

[safereturndoubtful]

Day 33 - to Ribadelago, Santabria National Park, Spain

Another day, another national park, but that wasn’t really the story of the day, which was much more humorous.

About 7 pm last night I was surprised when another van pulled in, next door to me. Surprised, because I have seen so few vans.

The guy actually came over to apologise for arriving late, though as I mentioned, it was only 7 pm.

They had a French registered Renault Globecar. A campervan maybe, but huge, more like a motorhome. The guy, I guess mid thirties, was originally English, but had lived 30 years in Brittany, and was with his French girl-friend. We got chatting, though it was not warm at that time.

He volunteered to tell me, that he was taking a year break from work in the adult entertainment industry. Now to my innocent mind, that pretty vague, adults are entertained in a number of ways. But he did soon after qualify this by saying it was porn, and apparently, very stressful.

They may return to the work, but remotely, whatever that means, the year after.

I don’t know much about this line of work, except for what I have watched on the tremendous, ‘The Deuce’. Though that was the heyday of New York porn, in the 1970s, where pretty much anything went.

We didn’t dwell on the porn. The two of them did look quite unlike the usual neighbour I come across on the road though, in smart tracksuits with expensive trainers. I misunderstood initially, thinking they were travelling in their van, owned by his parents, for the year. But actually this is a 3 week break, then back for a birthday, to California and various other places, with the odd three weeks in the van.

This morning we continued the conversation. They had no plans, but soon changed to join me hiking into the mountains. I moved down onto the far side of the village to park up, a very deserted village, and they followed. I set off, saying I would be slow, with the idea they would catch me up, but I didn’t see them again.

I think they saw the track, very wet and muddy after heavy overnight rain, saw my clothing, and opted out.

The rain had given way to an incredibly clear and cloudless morning, though a windy one. That sort of weather suits this National Park really, it is quite wild and windswept, beautiful in that regard, rather than being picturesque or pretty.

A quick quote from a book I am reading at the moment, the Swedish travel writer Erika Fatland’s High, about the Himalayas. I recommend her books highly.

She says.. “Borders are like sausages. It is sometimes best not to know how they are made. “

On this hike today, at times I was only metres from Spain. You can see their wind turbines on the photo below. There are many of them. I mentioned a few weeks ago that Spain, along with Germany, lead Europe in wind power.

But Portugal doesn’t, and at the moment won’t. The law is different, and many who voice opposition to them are listened to.

Though it does seem rather ridiculous here. They turbines are in Spain, but are only visible to the Portuguese villages. Borders…

It wasn’t a difficult hike by any means, PR3 as it’s called. It ascends without being steep on wide tracks to a dammed lake, Albufeira de Serra Serrada.

At the lake I met an older Dutch couple. I had actually seen their car arrive last night. We shared conversation on the return, and got on well, more in common I think than with the porn couple, though I quickly add, it is good to meet all sorts of travellers.

The guy was a retired neurologist, and his wife lectured in bio-chemistry when she worked, they were both now 68, and clearly pretty fit, and both quite small.

They were stopping off on their way to see their daughter and her family in Porto.

On return I drove onto across the nearby border to Spain, and into Sanabria National Park. Montesinho is, in effect, the foothills of the bigger mountains in Sanabria, which ascend to more than two thousand metres, and still have some snow on them in places.

This is a big tourist area, with plenty of hotels and restaurants, which I guess will all kick off just after Easter. At the moment, other than in the town of Puebla, everything is closed, and there are few people around. Initially I was going to stay in Puebla, but the weather is set fair, and I prefer to be back up high.

So I’m in Ribadelago, back at 1000 metres asl. I’m at the parking area for some hiking trails, surrounded by spectacular scenery. There is a sign saying no campervans etc in the National Park, but none of the camp sites are open. It’s so quiet that I doubt anyone will care. Park4Night lists a stopover place as being on the residential road 50 metres away. I’ve seen this before when parking areas have ‘no vans’ signs up. It’s taking advantage really, I never like to stopover near residential property. It’s rare to have ‘no van’ signs in Spain, usually there is some area they are directed to. In 3 or 4 weeks, I think it would be out of order to stay here.

I wandered back into the village for an early evening beer, and had a pleasant chat to the bar owner. I may well have been his only customer of the evening.

[songfell-ut]

**If this makes you feel things, please read moar**

Hiya, people. I have a really simple problem: I need money, and I would greatly appreciate receiving some here. To that end, I want to produce NSFW Songfell material (not individual commissions, but one collection of short pieces) at a rate of $1 for 20 words, up to 10,000 words.

Why? The short answer is that I am not facing homelessness or any other real emergency, we just really need a break. The long answer? Well...

*background ripples as flashback sequence begins*

Let's turn the clock back 18 years, when I was a wee lass of 19. I was moderating an anime message board for the Anime Web Turnpike (which was literally just a list of links to people's fan sites). I encountered a lot of cool people, especially another mod that I flirted with for a while and wound up driving a few hours to meet. We hit it off okay, but mostly as friends, which was fine. (If you're out there, Blue-Ghost, hi! Hope you're doing well!)

A couple weeks after this momentous occasion (I met a guy! For...sort of a date! And I didn't get murdered by an Internet stranger!!), I saw a post from a kid I'd noticed here and there. He'd never really stood out, just seemed kind of whiny and morose, as you do. Well, it turned out he was on summer break at New Mexico State University, and his mom had just gotten a job in my city in Texas, so he would be moving there for a few months--did anyone want to meet up and show him around?

Gonna be honest: I almost deleted it. I didn't really like this dude, and I didn't want our board to facilitate stranger danger. Buuut then I thought of meeting the other guy, and not getting chopped into pieces, and how I'd wished he lived closer so we could do friend stuff...so, with not much to lose (and the power to ban his potentially creepy ass), I PMed the whiny guy and offered to show him around town.

He was excited and non-murdersome, so I went ahead and agreed to meet him at his parents' house. To my surprise, it was barely 15 minutes from my parents, in a good neighborhood. Neat! So I went over there the next day.

...I don't think I'll ever forget driving down that street for the first time and rounding the corner, then immediately spotting my future husband. He wasn't the slouchy, twiggy douche I'd envisioned: he was a big, bearded teddy bear standing on the lawn with a nice smile, sporting a convention-style name badge and a Jimmy Buffet tarp held aloft to be sure I'd know which house it was. And I went...hm. Okay, cool.

Turned out his name was Mike, and he wasn't whiny. He was a shy, self-effacing, fairly awkward dude, and I thought it was kinda cute.

...I could literally go on writing this for hours, and I will do so if there's a lot of interest. To summarize, we met on the porch of my parents' house at 1 am just a few weeks later, the night before I was set to go live in Ohio for the summer. It was so awkward, we didn't know if we had to sign something or how exactly you get to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but we really liked each other, so yeah

...

Well. The story of how we met was cute, and I'm happy to report that we've been together ever since, married almost 10 years, and are the parents of a beautiful little girl. But life since then hasn't been very cute. We both eventually finished college with English degrees, and I have had literally two dozen jobs that my mental health has not allowed me to stick with--I was only diagnosed with inattentive-type ADHD and bipolar disorder type II a few years ago, nearly in my mid-30s. I'm now a stay-at-home mom, which does not pay well.

So, yeah, I do not have and cannot keep a job that will pull my weight in our very modest household, much less allow us to do anything cool. We never had a honeymoon, just walked around downtown the day after the wedding, and then I went back to school on Monday; we've never taken a vacation longer than an overnight trip or a weekend in a local hotel. Our families are amazing (little did I know visiting his house that day, I would end up living there off and on for two years) and I fully credit them with our survival, but they can't fix me. D:

Meanwhile, Mike is drowning. He's suffered from depression and a boatload of health problems due to his weight, and has spent three years working his ass off at an editing position that demands PhD-level skill but pays less than a goddamn fast-food job. I have been a financial millstone around his neck for a long, long time, and he never says a word to me about it because he's watched me try and fail for over 15 years straight.

(How sad is it that I barely even remember he has $50,000 out in student loans? It's such an immovable, impossible thing that we're not even worried about it, just keep applying for forbearance and waiting for the 25-year mark when it'll be forgiven. Only 12 more to go!)

This is depressing, but good context for why we want to go to his hometown in New Mexico for our 10th wedding anniversary, and why we need some help. I paid our motel and airfare way in advance, but our babysitting AND housesitting have fallen through (long story) and we have to reschedule everything, which is $204 for the plane tickets and...hopefully, that's it, but even that amount kinda wrecks our food and transportation budget. (Rental car prices rn are insane omg)

I was on the cusp of asking Mike this past week if we should just cancel the damn thing and do our usual anniversary celebration of hanging out downtown for a couple days, but after a particularly bad day at work, he just blurted out, "Oh my God, we have to go on this fucking trip," and my heart broke in a zillion pieces. D:

I feel a little bad writing this whole screed for money when there are people who need help more than we do, but then I remember that it's not a zero-sum thing where only one type of problem deserves any attention whatsoever, and I am also offering a valuable service in exchange--namely, what happens when Frisk teases her 10-foot husband about keeping her like a pet. Please don't worry about it if you can't spare any cash, just share the link and/or send good vibes my way. Love you all kthx <3

P.S. My patrons will be getting previews and informal polls on what direction to take with my crowdfunded filth. If this works well enough, hell, I'll do it again for more smut, idfk

tl;dr My husband deserves much better than he's gotten from life, and it kills me that my mental illness has made him have to work so hard. I will write porn in exchange for enough cash to take him back to his hometown for a few days' respite.

[ravennm84]

Payback

Hey everyone! I’ve been writing this new story for the past couple of days, and am planning to take a break for a while after this. My husband and I are expecting our first child next week and will be focusing on her. For that reason, I decided to give the class some sugar, as we all need some goodness in the world. I’ll be back when things settle down, but until then, Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

It was just an average conversation. Alya was sitting at her desk before class with Lila since Marinette was late again. It was very pleasant until the italian girl said something… wrong.

“After I saved Jagged’s kitten from being run over by the plane and he wrote that song about me, we kept in touch.” Lila tittered away, without a care. “He ended up mentioning how he wanted a pair of special glasses for his tour, so I made him those Eiffel Tower glasses that he loves so much. Next thing I know, he’s bragging about me to all his friends and they’re all asking me to make things for them too. I ended up making a website and going by the alias MDC. Isn’t that amazing?”

Alya hadn’t had a chance to answer as Marinette came rushing into the room a second before the bell rang and Mme. Bustier began her lesson. Although whatever the teacher was saying was practically ignored by the majority of the class that had heard Lila’s claim. 

Because they knew.

They had been there when Marinette had made those glasses for Jagged Stone for the work experience day at Chloe’s family hotel. They knew that Marinette went by the acronym MDC for the initials of her name. Max, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, and Alya had all helped Marinette set up her website and model her designs a couple months ago, while Lila had been traveling… 

She’s a LIAR!! They all thought at once.

During the next break, Alya quickly set up a group chat with everyone but Lila and Marinette.

FoxyJournalist: You all heard that, right? She’s lying about being MDC, but that’s Marinette!

DJTurtle: So not cool, doesn’t she know that we were there? Is this some kind of joke?

MightIllustrator: Don’t think so, she’s still bragging about it back here.

GothicBeauty: @DJTurtle Agreed, not cool.

Rocker’n’Pink: I can’t believe it! I just emailed Prince Ali to see if he knows her, because if Lila’s lying about this…

BigTeddy: …

SmolTeddy: …

TrueBrain: …

Da’Strongest: … Crap

Sk8Grl: … I second that Crap

FoxyJournalist: Emergency meeting at my place tonight! We need to figure all this out!

DJTurtle: Agreed.

TruQueen: We’ll be there too. I don’t like Dupain-Cheng, but I HATE Rossi.

MissRed: I’ll bring snacks.

By the time class started again, everyone had agreed to meet up after school. The hard part, as it turned out, was shaking the liar, who practically latched onto their group and wouldn’t let them be. It was Mylene you finally came up with an idea, mentioning that they were going to the homeless shelter to help feed people and clean the facility. Lila suddenly remembered that she already had plans and couldn’t come help them, before turning to walk home.

Once she was out of earshot, Alix turned to the other girl with a smirk. “Good going, how’d you know that’d work?”

Mylene shrugged. “I was thinking earlier about all the times she talked about charity work but always made excuses to not come with us when we were doing it. I figured she’d do it this time too, and I was right.”

An hour later the entire class; sans Marinette, Lila, and Adrien, who was at a photoshoot, were gathered in the Cesaire apartment. Everyone had their phones or tablets out, looking up everything that Lila had told them since coming to school. And what they found was anything but comforting.

Connection to Jagged Stone due to saving a kitten: lies, according to articles about his one and only pet for the past 17 years, Fang the crocodile.

Connection to Prince Ali via Go-Green charities: lies, according to Prince Ali himself when he responded to Rose’s email, plus he didn’t do green charities, instead focusing on children’s charities.

Secretly dating Adrien: lies, confirmed when Adrien called Nino back during a break and let it slip that Lila was only his friend and that she made him uncomfortable at times because of how clingy she was.

Every single thing they looked up about Lila turned out to be a lie. And although they couldn’t prove it themselves, that likely meant that all of the diseases and injuries that she’d claimed to have were probably fake too. Meaning that they had been buying her lunch and giving her money for charities, and the money was probably going straight into the liar’s pocket.

“By my calculations, when including all the lunches and food we bought for her, money we donated for charities she wasn’t involved in, and tickets for events she attended with us; Lila Rossi has scammed close to €1,000 from our class. All of which we are not likely to get back from her.” Max groused as he typed away on his tablet.

Alix scoffed. “At least all we lost was some money and a bit of our dignity. I’m pretty sure Marinette went through a lot more than us. Heck, that liar tried to convince me last week that Marinette ruined her homework and said ‘if only she understood what it was like for someone to do that to her’ like she was trying to get me to destroy Marinette’s homework as revenge. I didn’t do it, but I let her copy my homework so she wouldn’t lose any points.”

Juleka’s pale complexion went stark white. “She kept telling me how Marinette was only friends with me so she could get close to Luka and make Adrien jealous, and that I was really trusting to let someone like that near my family.”

“When my headphones broke, she told me that she’d seen Marinette messing with them earlier,” Nino told them, his voice laced with guilt as he remembered giving his oldest friend the cold shoulder for days after that.

Alya’s head dropped into her hands as she struggled to hold back tears. “That liar almost had me convinced that Mari was nothing but a jealous bitch who was out to get rid of her since they both had a crush on Adrien. I can’t believe how close I came to buying that bull.”

“And then there’s the expulsion,” Rose added, her voice quivering. “She was accused of stealing, assault, and cheating on that mock exam. Even though Marinette was reinstated, that kind of stuff doesn’t just disappear from someone’s record. What if that keeps her from being accepted into lycee?”

Everyone went pale at that. Although most turned red in the face a moment later from rage for their friend.

“We can’t let her get away with this!” Kim growled as he began pacing the room.

“But is there anything we can really do?” Mylene asked with tears in her eyes.

When the blonde heiress chuckled, sitting off to the side of the room, everyone turned to glare at her, but she wasn’t phased by their looks. “And this is exactly why I decided to come here. None of you have any idea how to deal with someone like Rossi. I, however, have dealt with those types of people multiple times.” The glares ceased, realizing that Chloe was probably right. 

“One of the best ways to get back at her, would be to use her own lies against her. Do it in a way that the only way out of it is to admit that she’s a liar. And while we do that, we completely tear down the empire that fake HBIC is trying to build, maybe get her expelled like she tried to do to Dupain-Cheng.”

The class stared at her in surprise, not expecting the former hero to actually be useful in this situation. But what she said…

Alya shook her head in surprise. “I never thought I’d say this, but it sounds like you’re the best option. Please, tell us your plan.”

The smirk Chloe gave them, almost made them feel sorry for what was about to happen to the liar.

~oOo~

The following morning when Lila came to class, she saw everyone fawning over something on their phones or tablets. Curious, she stepped next to Alya and looked over her shoulder to find that she was looking at the MDC website. 

She smirked for a second before plastering an appreciative, yet shy grin on her face. “I see you found my website, what do you think of my designs?” 

“Gurl, they are gorgeous! I can’t believe you made such intricate clothes and accessories!” Alya gushed as she continued looking through the pictures until she stopped on a design that she had modeled for Marinette, although, like all the other photos, her face wasn’t shown. “And this one here! It’s like a total dedication to Rena Rouge. Make no mistake, Ladybug will always be my favorite, but Rena’s power is really awesome too.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Lila smiled, she was about to go into describing how she was inspired by the design when Alya asked her something surprising.

“Do you think I can have it? Pretty please?”

Lila came up short, not having expected this. “Well, you can just order it from my website-” she began saying, only to stop when Alya’s expression dropped.

“I don’t understand. You always say that if we need anything to just ask you, and you have this dress listed as in stock on your website, it would be nothing for you to just give it to me, right?”

“I-um-”

“And you even told Marinette the other day that if she were a real friend, she wouldn’t mind giving us free pastries whenever we ask, right?”

“R-right! I’m just surprised that you would be so interested in one of my designs. I’ll bring it in tomorrow!”

“Thanks gurl, you're the best.” Alya gushed before giving Lila a hug that actually kind of hurt. 

Hurrying back to her seat, Lila resisted the urge to curse as she got onto the MDC website to order and overnight the dress to her apartment. Luckily, the mail normally arrived before she left for school. And doing this would help her convince everyone she was the designer MDC.

~oOo~

Lila’s newest lie about being MDC wasn’t going as planned. Sure, she got a lot of praise and people wearing her designs, but it was costing her. Every time she brought in an item that she’d had to buy and overnight to her apartment to give to one of her classmates, another would practically demand another item that was listed as available on the MDC website. A hat for Alix, a hoodie for Kim, a shirt for Max, a dress for Rose, it went on and on. And when she tried to say that she couldn’t, they would say how Marinette would never do such a thing and then start to question what she told them. This left her no choice but to buy everything they wanted herself and give to them. 

Sure, it made her lie all the more believable since she was able to deliver the items they asked for, but it was beginning to clear out her savings. At the rate she was going, she was probably MDC’s best customer.

Then came the day when the MDC website began offering custom orders. Alya asked Marinette for a couple sheets of paper from her sketchbook and a pencil before handing it to Lila. “Gurl, I’ve been wanting you to do something custom for me for weeks, but I wasn’t going to ask since you didn’t have it listed on your website and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. But now, I can tell you exactly what I want and I can even record your process for my blog! Isn’t that awesome?”

Lila gripped the pencil until it nearly snapped. She could barely draw stick figures and she was pretty sure Maribrat knew that, not missing the smirk that the goody-two-shoes was sending her direction. “I would but, oww! My arthritis has been acting up all day and I can barely hold a pencil.” She whimpered pathetically as gingerly gripped her left wrist.

“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” Max spoke up smiling kindly at her. “After all, it’s your left wrist that has arthritis and you’re right handed.”

Shut up, you stupid nerd! She thought, struggling to keep the scowl from her face. “You’re right, but I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to draw something out before class starts.”

“But, Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale have commented on your website how you are really good at doing fast concept drawing for your designs. So, it shouldn’t take you too long to come up with something to start with.” Rose commented, her high voice grating on the liar’s nerves.

She was trying to think of another excuse when Chloe began laughing. “You can all stop the act, I think we’ve played it out long enough.”

To Lila’s surprise, the majority of the class nodded before their eager, friendly faces turned to scowls and angry glares as they looked in her direction. Unsure of what else to do, she started faking tears as she looked around the room. “Why are all of you looking at me like that? I haven’t done anything wrong. Did Marinette say something? You know-”

“Cut the crap, Lila! We did our research weeks ago and figured out you’re nothing but a lying bag of nothing.” Chloe cut her off as she stood from her desk and smiled cruelly at the girl. “You really messed up when you started claiming you were the MDC, the rising star of fashion. Everyone in class knows that’s Marinette.”

Unable to help herself, Lila’s head whipped around in shock to glare at the french-asian girl, sitting shocked, but a little smug at her desk. “Is that what Marinette said? She’s lying!”

Alya scoffed this time. “You know, there may have been a point when we might have believed you, but not this time. We were all there when Mari gave those glasses to Jagged Stone and then had her design his album cover. Max and I helped her set up the MDC website. And Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, Max, and I were the ones that modeled the designs posted on her website.”

Lila glared at her. She knew when the jig was up, and there was no point in wasting her energy on her worthless classmates anymore. Still, she couldn’t help but be angry at them. “Well, you all better have the money to pay me back for all the stuff I bought you! Or else I’ll get all of you in trouble with Mme. Bustier and M. Damocles. If you can’t tell, from the time I got Maribrat expelled, I’ve got them both wrapped around my finger.”

“Actually, you can consider all this repaying us.” Max grinned that annoying, calculating grin at her. “Everything you bought was equal to or of similar value to all the lunches we bought you, tickets for events that we covered, or money we donated to your supposed charities, which I’m 96.8% sure was actually your own bank account.”

She growled at that, about to let out a tirade at all of them when Chloe laughed again, gaining her attention again. “Well, all that was to pay back the class, but you’re still not even with Dupain-Cheng or me. I’m sick of seeing your ugly face and hair-don’t in here every day and decided to do something about it. So, I had Daddy get a hold of the Italian Embassy for a meeting the other day. Imagine how surprised and angry they were when the ambassador’s assistant started talking about how incopitant Ladybug and Chat Noir are, since they couldn’t defeat the akuma that had forced her daughter’s school to close for months.”

Lila’s tan skin paled quickly as her head whipped around the room, looking for an escape, but Ivan and Kim were guarding the door. 

“The woman was even more surprised after mentioning which school it was and Daddy told her how it was my school. Then I mentioned a girl that had been out of school for the time the assistant had mentioned, and that she claimed to be in the kingdom of Achu via Embassy funds. The Ambassador wasn’t too happy about what he was hearing and cut the meeting short. Although I did hear her mention that she was planning to speak with the principal and her daughter’s teacher. Speaking of, I wonder why Mme. Bustier is so late for class?

Seconds later, the door Ivan and Kim had been guarding burst open, revealing a very angry Damocles, Mme. Bustier, and a woman that had a strong resemblance to Lila. Without a single word, the woman stomped forward, grabbed Lila by the arm, and began dragging her out of the room. Lila tried to pull free as she pleaded for her mother to listen, but the woman didn’t say a single word as the door closed behind them, leaving a very upset Mme. Bustier standing at the front of the room.

The news quickly spread around school before lunch how Lila had done, and was likely to be expelled for truancy, bullying, lying to the staff, and trying to get Marinette expelled. If that hadn’t been bad enough, an akuma had come fluttering into the courtyard just as the two Rossi’s had been leaving. Lila had pushed her mother away in an effort to catch the akuma, only for a yo-yo to smack her hand to catch it, snapping two of the liar’s fingers in the process. 

Seeing that, M. Damocles had no choice but to call the police while Ladybug and Chat Noir stood guard over Lila, with Alya recording everything from the moment she’d seen the akuma entering the courtyard. Lila screamed and raged as the police handcuffed her and took her away. Ladybug recommended using a facility outside of Paris, as they had witnessed her willingly going after an akuma.

The class never saw Lila again, although they did hear that she had been deported back to Italy and was dropped in a high security prison’s deepest, darkest hole to be forgotten by the world after being convicted for aiding a terrorist. Granted, none of them had expected that when they had set out to get even with Lila, but after seeing her willingly go after an akuma for revenge, they were glad she was gone.

The class had also profusely apologized to Marinette for not believing her, as well as keeping her in the dark about their plan to expose Lila. Marinette accepted their apology, but admitted that she had been starting to figure it out after Lila kept ordering from her website and her classmates ended up with the ordered items. Then, when she had mentioned her theory to Adrien, he’d shown her the group chat and admitted that the class had planned a way to confront and expose Lila. So, she decided to trust her friends and let their plan play out, using the money Lila had spent to buy more supplies and make matching ‘thank you’ gifts for her friends.

And that’s it! I hope you all enjoyed this bit of class sugar. With all the salt out there, I really needed something sweet and this seemed like a good way to do it!

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @ miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[collecting-stories]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍 

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.  

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.  

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.  

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.  

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.  

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.  

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.  

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.  

-

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.  

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.  

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.  

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.  

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.  

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”  

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.  

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

-

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.  

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.  

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.  

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.  

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.  

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.  

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.  

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.  

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.  

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”  

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.  

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.  

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.  

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.  

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”  

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.  

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.  

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

-

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.  

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.  

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.  

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.  

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.  

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.  

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.  

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.  

“But you still made it.” You replied.  

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”  

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.  

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.  

“Not enough.”  

[gotnofucks]

Protected

Paring: dark!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: How were you to know who’s a monster, who’s a savior when they all hide behind a mask

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: violence, manipulation, dark themes, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Aged up Peter Parker (obviously). No smut in here, even I surprised myself.

MASTERLIST

+++++

You stared in the mirror, hands clammy as you tried to angle the phone right. The lightening was not perfect, and you twisted, trying to see if you’ll need to turn on the flash. Just as you thought you’d found your position, your phone chimed and you jumped. Clicking on the notification you opened your messages and found another text from the private number.

Be quick

Just above this was the text you’d received 20 minutes ago that had you running into the bathroom and taking your top and bra off within minutes.

Send me a pic of your right nipple

It had started a couple weeks ago with the kidnapping of your boyfriend, Sammy. You didn’t realize he had been kidnapped at first. He worked as a driver for a rich family and they took him away without preamble overnight for visits into next town. You only noticed something was strange when all your calls and texts remained unanswered for two days and you finally made a call to his employers to figure out if everything was okay. It was a shock to realize that the family was in town and hadn’t seen him for two days too. You had jumped into action, barely making sure you were appropriately dressed as you made your way to the police station to report a missing person’s report. You had parked down and were just about to open your door when the first message pinged. You almost didn’t check your phone, but the notification said private number, so you clicked on it. Your world came crashing down.

It was a picture of your boyfriend tied to a metal chair in what looked like a warehouse with blood caking his hairline and mouth gagged. Tears were streaming down his face and you covered your mouth in shock. Another message chimed, this one reading:

Don’t even think of going inside. Turn around and go back to your home

You had whipped your head around, looking out of the window with terrified eyes as you tried to see anyone who looked suspicious or was paying attention to you. Nothing struck you out of the ordinary and you were more determined than ever to go in and file a report when another message popped up.

Go home or I can send your precious lover’s head to you in a parcel

Maybe you should have gone inside, maybe you should have told someone. But when someone is holding a gun to the love of your life, you do what the fuck they say. Common sense doesn’t come into play. Last minute solutions don’t play in your mind. It was real life, not a movie. You drove back to your house in tears, hands trembling. Your boyfriend was not missing, he’d been taken by someone. The drive back home was a blur and you barely made it without hitting someone or yourself. You parked outside and entered your home, locking the door behind. The moment you were in, another text alert:

Good girl

You locked all the doors and windows, the curtains drawn shut. You sat down in the living you, finally finding the nerve to text back.

Who are you? What do you want?

You waited for a reply, your eyes darting around your house. Did the person have camera’s in your house or were you simply followed? Would they really hurt Sammy or was that an empty threat? Should you call his parents? Your parents? Your phone dinged and quickly swiped up to open the text.

I want you to send me picture of your little toe

What the fuck? This had to be some sort of a joke. You were shaking in fear and anger, your hand clutching the phone in a dead grip. You should have gone and made the complaint. It was dark outside now, but you’d go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. To hell with this person, you will not be scared of them. You took a screenshot of the messages and made sure your house was secure before retiring to your room with a knife. Sleep came late and restless, your worry keeping you from having a sated sleep. Horrible scenarios ran across your mind, each worse than the last.

You woke up early and dressed up. You needed to be at the station as soon as possible, Sammy was in danger. Whoever had him seemed addled in the brain. You were just pouring your coffee in your travelling mug when the doorbell rang. Your heart beat in your throat, your body seizing up in terror. You got your knife from the kitchen, creeping to the door on all fours trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. You leaned up slightly to peep out the peephole and saw a delivery man. He looked normal enough, cranky from an early delivery. You cautiously opened the door a few inches, hiding the knife behind your back.

“Y/n Y/l/n?” He asked and you nodded. He held out a small parcel to you along with a form to sign. You opened the door a few more inches and quickly scribbled your name across the form, taking the parcel with tentative hands. The man walked away without a goodbye and you sighed. Not everyone was out there to get you.

You placed the parcel on the table. It held only the delivery receipt, no other marks on it. It was small, almost like a jewelry box. You looked at the time and thought to open it first. You didn’t wanna deal with sleep deprived officers who refuse to take you seriously at the station. Getting out you scissors you cut the brown paper off and opened the plain carboard box. Inside was a jewelry box like you had expected, but who would send this to you? There was no note and you opened the flap.

It fell out of your hands as you screamed, your hands rushing to your mouth in horror. The thing that had been perched inside like a ring rolled out and fell on the floor, resting at your feet. It was a little toe. A severed, human little toe. And if your hunch was right, you knew who it belonged to. Your phone chimed at that very moment and you swallowed back the bile in your throat when you swiped up.

Next time, listen. I have no trouble sending his head to you.

P.S. Drink that coffee, looks delicious. And be a good girl and forget about the police if you give a damn about your piece of shit boyfriend.

P.P.S I’ll like a pic of your pinky finger

You send him the pic with shaky hands, tears falling down your cheeks.

This is how it went for a few weeks, them asking for pictures of different body parts. Each with a threat of the same part being chopped off Sammy’s body if you don’t comply. Whoever they were, they didn’t call you and you couldn’t call them. You rarely texted, only asking if Sammy was okay and you’ll get vague texts in reply saying, ‘that depends on you’.

The pictures were seemingly innocent enough at first. Your fingers, your knee, your shoulder, hair braided, hair in a pony. But then they got dangerous. The inside of your things, your ass in a pink pair of panties, your nipples. You gave them what they wanted. As long as Sammy was okay, but you didn’t know how long you could continue this. Something had to be done

+++++

You were probably making a big mistake, but you had no option. Police was out of question, but they weren’t the police. Not entirely.

The kidnapper could for some reason follow you everywhere, even look inside your home though you had scoured every corner and found no cameras. You needed people more powerful and they were the only ones who could help. You know they didn’t have time for something this small as they dealt with world endangering events, but you had to try. You entered the Avengers Tower, making your way to the front desk. The lady sitting behind looked kind enough, greeting you politely.

“Hello, how can I help you?” She asked with a practiced smile and you nervously smiled back.

“I uh, I want to make a complaint.” You winced as you said that, your eyes darting around. The lady however gave you a sympathetic smile, slipping you a form to fill.

“You can fill this one, but it may take a while to get to them. They can be very busy” She said, and you nodded, taking the form and going to sit on a couch to fill it out. You gave all the necessary information, adding in that you had picture proof. You hoped it reached someone here who could help, if not the avengers then someone from Shield. You got up to submit it when you bumped into somebody, making them drop their papers along with yours.

“Oh, I am so sorry” you apologized, bending down to gather their stuff as well as yours. A hand reached out to help and you looked up in the eyes of Sam Wilson. You blinked and then stammered another apology that he waved away. He got the papers from your hand, looking over and found your form.

“This yours miss?” He asked as he looked over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read on. You nodded and bit your lip. He turned it over and then looked back at you. “Do you have the picture evidence?” He asked tapping the paper and you nodded quickly. You showed him your phone, with the messages and pictures. He frowned, his handsome face pinched.

“Can you help me? They sent me his severed toe. For all I know he isn’t even alive now.” You croaked and Sam looked at you with kind eyes.

“Y/n, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, this looked very creepy and bad. I’ll take it up to the team okay? See if someone can spare sometime on it. Here, take my card. Call me if they approach you again.”

You almost sobbed with relief, glad that something seemingly good finally happened. You thanked him and pocketed his card, hoping you made the right call. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were in deep. Either the kidnappers find out and threaten you, possibly killing Sammy. Or they piss their pants and leave you the hell alone. You just wanted this to be over.

You returned to your flat with a lighter heart, having a full dinner after ages. You had the avengers on your case. The avengers. The guys who took down aliens and planet-wiping asshats. They will put an end to this, you were sure. You slept better that night too, heinous dreams not plaguing you for a change.

You went to work early that day. Usually your shift at the local clinic didn’t start until an hour later, but you were feeling hopeful. Helping people through the day by stitching their wounds or giving a kid a cartoon bandage took your mind off things. It was a smooth day, almost normal. No more texts from the kidnapper today and if Sammy were home, things would be perfect. You were only just leaving when another person walked in your station, a cut bleeding over their lip. You recognized the boy and gave him a reproachful look.

“Peter, again?” You groaned, your hands automatically reaching for the antiseptic wipes. He came in once every few weeks, battered from one thing or another. You were sure some gang was beating him up, but he never confided. He was your age, studying some cool physics stuff while you nursed here. He was a very regular patient.

“Hey Y/n, can you patch me up. Again.” He said, ruffling his hair awkwardly. You tended to him, being careful not to hurt him even though he barely flinched. He had tremendous pain tolerance and you didn’t wanna know how he built it up. He was a great guy, pretty cool and respectful.

“There you go, all done. Maybe listen to me for once and don’t do whatever it is you do.” You advised, and he sent you a bashful grin that you knew meant your words went in one ear and out of the other.

“Thanks. You look good today, happier. Something good happen?” He asked and you smiled a little.

“I think so. I’ll get to know soon enough. You look after yourself, mkay?” You say and pack up your stuff. You saw him lingering, feet shuffling around so you raised an eyebrow.

“Um, I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for a coffee or something?” He asked and now it was your turn to shuffle uneasily.

“Peter, I’m really flattered. But I’m in a relationship already.” You told him and saw him frown.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked confused and you nodded. Sammy was still your boyfriend, regardless of everything. You weren’t going to go around dating behind his back. He will come home. You were sure he will. Peter’s face fell and before you could say something he nodded and left. You felt horrible, but you hoped he will come around.

You got a call from Sam right before you went to sleep.

“Hey, did the kidnappers contact you?” He asked and you said no. He hummed and spoke to someone in the background. “Can you come over to the tower tomorrow? We’ll have a look at your phone, try and track the number?”

You agreed to meet him there at noon and a smile spread on your face. Things seemed to be progressing. Maybe the kidnapper was too scared of the avengers to make any move. You hoped you’ll get Sammy back soon.

You reached the tower with ten minutes to spare. You had taken trouble dressing up today as you didn’t know if you’ll meet more avengers. It was a blessing to have them and you prayed things will turn out okay. Sam met you in the lobby, waving at you.

“Hey, come on up. We’ve got a tech team waiting” He said, and you followed him to the elevator. It seemed to rise up and up, and you got nervous. You were glad you hadn’t deleted anything from your phone but worried what they will say about it. You had after all sent nude pics to a stranger.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a safe space.” Sam promised you and you tried to force a smile.

You exited with him in what looked like a huge office space, with cabins and sleek furniture everywhere. He led you to the cabin at the end and held the door for you to enter. You took a step inside and almost stopped short. When Sam said tech team you didn’t know it would mean Black Widow and Tony Stark.

“Come on in, we don’t bite.” Tony teased you, waving you forward and you stumbled. They both shook your hands and offered you a seat where you sat gobsmacked. You kinda sat like a goldfish until manners and mobility returned and you greeted them with a high pitch hello.

“Hey kid, you don’t need to worry. We got a free day today and Wilson said a young lady needed saving. Romanoff loves the ladies you know.” Tony winked and Nat threw a stapler at him that he caught. You nervously smiled and then they got to business. You explained everything to them, showing them the texts and pictures.

“Hmm, it’s a private number. Let’s see if we can do something about it.” Nat said and connected your phone to her laptop, clattering away on the keys. As she did, her brows drew together and she huffed. “Oh, this one is good. Not good enough for me though.”

She kept at it for a few minutes and when her device beeped her mouth parted a little. She moved her head away and blinked before passing the laptop to Tony who looked baffled. He started his own clattering and you tensed. The laptop beeped again and just then the door opened. You looked up to see…a man wearing the spiderman mask.

“Hey kid, you know you can take that thing off in here.” Sam said.

“I’m good. I need to leave soon anyway.” The voice behind the mask said and it almost sounded familiar. He looked at you and waved and you returned the gesture. Of course, Spiderman’s identity was a secret. You were probably the reason he was wearing the mask in the first place.

“This doesn’t seem right.” Tony mused and he and Nat exchanged a look.

“What is it?” You asked and Sam echoed your question.

“Well, the signals of the phone trace back to this tower.” Tony answered and he seemed as bewildered as you.

“What? Like a shield agent? That would explain how they could spy on her without too much trouble.” Sam mused.

“You mind if I see Mr. Stark?” Spiderman asked and Tony passed the laptop to him, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ll have Friday run a scan all over the tower. We’ll have an identity soon. But damn, this is disturbing.” Tony said and you felt anticipation rise in you. You’ll have the name of the kidnapper soon, and after that Sammy can be home.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, something is going on here. I – I swear I didn’t do anything.” Spiderman called out in a panicked voice and Tony and Nat crowed around him.

“What the fuck? How did this happen?” Nat scowled, her face almost buried in the screen as Tony did whatever he did there. “This…this can’t just happen. Tony!”

They looked up at you genuinely confused as you stared back with wide eyes.

“It seems like someone just deleted all the data from the number, including the trace. That shouldn’t have been possible.” Nat explained and you willed your tears away. All the proof you had gathered was lost, including the only lead you’d had for months.

“Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ve got you, okay. We know its someone from inside the tower. We’ll keep a watch.” Tony assured you, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. You sniffled and shifted in your seat, all the hopelessness coming back.

“I think someone should keep a watch with her.” Nat suggested. “Whoever they are, we know they are good. Must be some top shield agent. A stakeout at her place, that should clear shit up.”

The others nodded and you cringed. You didn’t want to trouble them or have your privacy invaded this way, but if that was what it took to get Sammy back, you’ll be okay with it. So, you agreed.

“I’ll see if Wanda is free.” Sam suggested when Spiderman stood up and waved goodbye.

“Now wait here Wilson, we got our friendly neighborhood hero right here. Kid, you look after her. Your people skills are depressing and maybe you’ll cheer up a bit.” Tony said and you saw Spiderman wring out his hands.

“Mr. Stark, I’ve got college.”

“She’s got work.” Tony looked at you and you nodded. “See it will be perfect. Go on, pack an overnight.”

You gave out your address and went back home, aggressively cleaning before Spiderman arrived. You felt kinda bad for him since you knew he didn’t wanna be here, but well, job’s a job. He arrived just as you’d finished shoving your stuff under the bed and you opened the door to him still wearing the mask.

“Hey, make yourself at home. I’d give you a tour but its only one room, bathroom and kitchen.” You said awkwardly, his red face looking around.

“It’s chill. I’ll make my bed on the couch. You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. His voice wasn’t very rough, and you thought he must be somewhere around your age.

“You can uh, take your mask off if you wanna. I swear I won’t tell anyone” You promised but he shook his head.

“I’m fine. Please, don’t bother. Go about your day as usual. I’ll make myself scarce.” He set his bag on the coffee table and took out his books. Some complicated physics stuff. Well, Tony Stark wouldn’t just have a stupid rookie in his team.

You and Spiderman (Seriously, you can just call me Erek Trapper) had a simple dinner. You knew he’d given you a fake name, probably just an anagram but you didn’t push him. You valued your privacy too. He wasn’t too much trouble, always polite and never in your way. Only once you found him in your doorway watching you sleep, but he very embarrassedly told you that he needed an extra pillow to sleep. You gave him one after which he didn’t appear again.

He stayed for a week before shit happened. You were alone at home when your phone buzzed. “Erek” was still not back from his classes and you were making dinner. You picked up your phone and almost dropped it in fright. A private number.

Such a silly dumb girl you are.

Another buzz

You’re not good at taking orders, are you? We’re gonna work on that

Buzz

And here I thought you cared about this pathetic boy

Buzz

I should have really sent you his whole leg instead of the toe

Buzz

Look in your kitchen drawer

You turned around, sweat running down your neck and tremors hit you as you pulled out your drawer. You screamed, bloody fingernails inside a cup greeting you. You stumbled back and your windows started rattling all at once. You sat huddled in the kitchen, screaming with your head between your legs as knocks echoed around your apartment, multiple doors and windows banging. You sniffed and suddenly looked across the hall where a fire burned in your room.

“No!” You couldn’t get up, frozen in shock. The doors kept banging, smoke filling the house and your lungs, blurring your vision. Your throat was hoarse and dry and you coughed, trying and failing to stand up with support of the counter. You knocked against the drawer, the cup of nails tumbling down over you making you flail and howl.

You crawled away on shaky feet, feeling more exhausted than ever. Your lungs burned and you coughed, losing feeling of your body. The door was banging louder than ever and you shut your ears, tears making their way down your face.

It opened with a bang, a man nearly flying inside and to your side. Cool hands gripped your face and tapped your cheeks, urging you to keep your eyes open. You were in his arms, being lifted outside from your home.

“Mr. Stark, no, I got there in time. Yes sir. Taking her with me. Bring her to the tower? Yes sir. She’s okay – I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Gonna be swinging with her.” He spoke to someone.

Air rushed against you and you barely opened your eyes before shutting them again. You were flying from building to building, only one arm around you keeping you safe. You hugged him tight, pressing your face into his neck.

“We’re almost there, Y/n. Damn it! I knew I should have controlled the drugs.”

You didn’t understand what he said and as the swinging motion grew frantic, your eyes shut.

+++++

Beeping of a machine greeted you and your eyes opened to the view of a hospital room. A tube was in your arm, a tv playing softly in the background. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and as your memories flooded you, you stood up. The beeping increased and a door opened to let in a man in middle age, with soft salt and pepper curls.

“Hey hey, its alright. You’re safe. You need to lay down.” He said. He looked so familiar and your eyes widened as you recognized him as Dr. Bruce Banner.

“I – what happened?” You asked. Before he could answer, Spiderman walked in and took the seat by your bed.

“I’ll let you guys talk. I’m going to be with Tony, Pete. Call me if you need something. And for god’s sake, take this goddamn mask off.” Bruce chided and left.

You looked at Spiderman who slowly took off his mask and your mouth dropped open. These brown eyes and hair.

“Peter?” You gasped and he nodded, abashed.

“I’m sorry I had to hide like this. I was going to let you know.” He explained. His eyes widened like he really really wanted you to understand.

“You’re Spiderman? So that’s where you got all those cuts from” You said, and he nodded. You raked a hand through your hair and winced when they tangled in some knots. “Thank you, Peter, for saving me. The fire, I – I don’t know what happened.”

Peter took your hands in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You frowned, trying to take your hand away but he resisted.

“Of course, I saved you. Sammy would have killed you otherwise.” He remarked and you started.

“Sammy? He’s here?” You almost jumped out the bed and Peter pushed down on your shoulder.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. Sammy was the kidnapper. He…he faked it.”

Peter was speaking but not making any sense. Why the hell would Sammy do that? You saw his bloodied pictures, you saw his torn off toe and fingernails.

“You’re mistaken.” You whisper but Peter shook his head.

“No, of course you’ll believe that. Sammy worked as a temp here last year. He got into Shield’s database and has been using that information to torture you. He faked it darling.” Peter said and pressed another kiss on your hand.

“That’s a lie. He never worked here! He was working for a family downtown!” You shouted and Peter nodded at you.

“Yes, but Friday’s data can be manipulated, and people paid off. They will never testify to knowing him.”

It took you a ridiculously long time to come to terms with what Peter said. His fingers were caressing up and down your arm, lips pressing soft kisses on your palm and wrist. You tried to wiggle it free, but he squeezed hard and you cried out.

“Don’t struggle, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I almost added too much hallucinogen to the smoke. You really scared me baby. Don’t do that again.” He scolded you and your eyes brimmed with tears. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and you turned your face away.

“You?”

Peter nodded, his other hand playing with your hair.

“You were always so sweet Y/n. So nice to me, never asking too many questions. Being kind to me when I was beaten up. I have wanted you for months but then you kept talking to your friends about Sammy and it made me so sad. So, I took him away, kidnapped him. I tried to give you a closure, stage it properly. I would have killed him and sent you a picture, consoled you after his death. I asked you out, remember, and you still turned me down. But then you came here, to Mr. Stark. That day I barely managed to corrupt the filed on his laptop, they were so close to finding me. And well, I didn’t even have to manipulate him into sending me at your place. That worked out so smooth. Now, all the evidence is in play. Sammy will be indicted for conspiracy and attempt to murder. And you and me, we can be together.”

You opened your mouth to shout and his hand was promptly there, blocking all sound.

“Shh, don’t baby. I know you’re scared. I know. But Sammy is still with me. I can do anything. Right now, I’ve only cut off a toe and his nails. He’s still breathing. I think he’ll have a way better life in prison than in a grave, yeah?”

Peter leaned down and kissed your tears away, and when he removed his hands only sobs escaped your mouth. He cupped your face, looking so kind you doubted if whatever he said actually happened.

“No one will come between us. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes in surrender.

+++++

Taglist: @shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @littlegasps

Taglist is open 

[inkedwarrior]

Prompt #1

AN: So, I have had this prompt forever and never gotten around to writing it. But now it's done. I did change some things because they fit easier with how I write. It got way longer than I intended and I'm still not super happy with the ending, but still, I hope you guys like it. Thank you @silvafox for the inspiration. Prompt: You've always hated your power to reveal people true opinions of each other, it got your parents divorced, after all. But after jokingly using the power at a work party while drunk, you realize your partner/spouse loathes you. But your worst enemy, an asshole coworker, loves you. Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

In general, being a mind fairy wasn’t the easiest. When you were younger, you had a hard time coping with your gifts. Your mother, being a mind fairy herself, tried her best to help you, but while she mainly focused on dreams, you strayed between the mind, dreams and thoughts. But it all paled in comparison when you discovered another part your gifts around your twelfth birthday. It was a normal morning, you and your parents eating breakfast together before the start of the day. Noticing a weird aura around them, you closed your eyes to delve deeper. You wish you never had.

What followed were the worst minutes of your life and from that moment on, you hated that part. You hated the fact the their divorce was your fault, because if you hadn’t delved deeper into their bond, they never would have revealed their true opinions of each other. You couldn’t stand to know that your parents loathed each other and the fact that they found out was your fault. Over the years you’ve tried to find other fairies with the same ability but so far you’ve come up short. There wasn’t much information in books either, so you could never put a name to ability. It didn’t matter, because after what happened to your parents, you vowed to never use it again. So you secluded the part deep within yourself and tried to live your life as best as you could.

You went to school, met your partner, who would later become your spouse and eventually got a job offer to teach at Alfea, a very prestigious school for fairies and specialists. You jumped at the chance when Headmistress Dowling contacted you with the offer and since your partner could work from anywhere, you packed up your things and moved to Alfea. The pain and guilt of what you’ve had done as a child was always there but you learned to live with it. You had told your partner of what had happened but asked them no never speak of it, and noticing what a discomfort the subject brought you, had dropped it.

Teaching at Alfea was everything you’ve ever dreamed of except for one thing. Or rather one person. Saul Silva. The headmaster of the specialist had made it his personal mission to make your days a living hell. He was always getting on your nerves, complaining about this or that, making comments under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening. If the two of you ever had to work together, you spent more time arguing than anything else. Farah quickly noticed and tried to keep the two of you apart as much as possible.

“Hey Y/N, wait up,” looking behind you, you notice Ben Harvey juggling several plants at the same time. Laughing, you offer to take some of them off his hands. He generously accepts and the two of you continue to stroll towards the greenhouses. Arriving there, the smile on your face disappears quickly, seeing Saul leaning against the wall with that cocky smirk of his.

“Ben, I need advice on a couple of things, do you have time?”, he follows the two of you inside. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, you put down the plants on a bench and noticing Ben doesn’t need any help, you hurry away, pushing past Saul and closing the door behind you. You would never admit it out loud, but despite getting on your nerves most days and just in general being an asshole towards you, you couldn’t help but to notice the fact that Saul Silva was attractive. You hated yourself for even looking at him like that, but there was something that stirred a feeling deep in your gut every time you looked at him. You always shook those feelings away, reminding yourself that you were in a loving relationship, with a partner who loved you.

The thought of your partner halted your steps. How long had it been since the two of you slept in the same bed? Shared a kiss? Thinking back, you couldn’t remember. Lately you had been working late with Farah, planning a new lesson plan for next year, and more often than not, you had opted to stay in you overnight suite that you vacated at Alfea. And your partner was constantly working, traveling. But had it really been that long since the two of you saw each other. Checking your phone, you noticed that your last phone call was over 2 months ago. Arriving at your door, you went inside and sat down. Staring at the phone, your finger hovering over the call button. Despite the feeling telling you to not call them, you pressed down and held the phone to you ear. Several dials tones pass by before they pick up, sounding slightly out of breath. They almost sound surprised to hear from you and the feeling grows worse. Not wanting to argue you nicely ask them is they’re still coming to the annual Alfea Christmas party, hosted for the teachers each year. Agreeing to a time and date, you quickly hang up, neither of you uttering any words of love or comfort. Curling up under the covers, you close your eyes hoping that sleep will come soon.

Two weeks later

You were drunk. Or maybe tipsy. Either way, you had consumed far too much alcohol and decided to maybe switch to water for the rest of the night. Your partner was chatting up someone on the other side of the room, and even though there’s a lot of people around, you see them flirting. Somehow, it doesn’t bother you. It should bother you that the person promising you the future, forever and always, is flirting openly, but it don’t. When did this happen? When did you fall out of love with each other. Noticing you watching them, they make their way over to you. Sitting down, they take your hand, asking if everything is alright. Looking at them, you decide that no, everything is not alright.

And that’s when you notice it. The orange aura surrounding them, the same aura that once had surrounded your parents. Through the haze induced by the alcohol, you stare at them, unconsciously delving deeper into their mind. What you find should leave you in tears, but it doesn’t. The feeling of anger, loathe and tired is spreading throughout their body, and it is all directed at you. You let go of their hand.

“So, where you ever going to tell me?”, you stand, looking them in the eyes. You’re just tired now, and you want straight answers. You pull them to a quiet corner, out of prying eyes.

“Tell you what?”, they look confused for a moment, but you see the understanding slowly dawning in their eyes. Anger quickly surfaces and you don’t even have the strength to defend yourself.

“You said you never wanted to talk about this, and I never thought you would ever read me like that,” they’re upset and you understand. But you don’t care. Exhaling slowly through your nose, you take their hand.

“If you want out of this marriage, you should have told me,” they look down at your joined hands. Eyes meeting, you know this is the end. They take a few steps back, fiddling with their ring. Making the decision for them, you slid your ring off, handing it over. Sharing one last look, they turn on their heel, walking away.

“Hrm,” a quiet cough startles you and turning around, you see Saul watching you with a look you can’t quite understand. But it isn’t what catches your focus the most. It’s the warm red aura surrounding him, all while watching you. You choke on air and he steps towards you, a hand stretched out.

“Are you alright?”, gone is the usually cocky facade he sports around you, instead a genuine concern etched onto his face. You try to utter something but it gets caught in your throat. Spluttering you sit down, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. You know what the red aura means, granted you haven’t seen it much, but you remember it surrounding both you and your partner, former partner, in the early days of your relationship. It doesn’t make sense. Saul hates you, of that you’re pretty sure. He’s always an asshole and he never gives you a break. He should not be surrounded by the warm red light around you. Not knowing what to feel, you do the only thing you can. You bolt.

“Y/N, wait up,” you can hear his footsteps behind you and you turn around so quickly the two of you almost collide.

“Why do you care Saul?”, you don’t intend for it to sound so harsh, but you’re tired and confused. A lot has happened in the span of a very short time tonight. You stare him down, waiting for an answer.

“Why do I care? I know I haven’t exactly been very nice towards you and Ben told me off a couple of weeks for it,” feeling even more confused you continue to look at him. A blush is rising on his cheeks and he’s claps his hands together, so far from the person you’re used to him being.

“I’m not good at this, and I know you have no reason to believe what I’m about to say,” he takes a step towards you and the look in his eyes have you standing still.

“Good at what?”, you cock your head, and then the red around him glows even brighter than before. He seems nervous all of a sudden and clears his throat.

“Talking about this, eh, talking about feelings,” you gape at him, feeling speechless.

“What feelings?”, you remember that he doesn’t know about your ability, so you ask the question, despite that fact that his aura says everything. He cares for you, no he loves you.

“I care about you. I know that I haven’t exactly shown it, but emotions isn’t my strong suit and when I felt this way about you, I panicked. You’re married and I didn’t want to ruin anything so I thought the best way was to act like an asshole,” he speaks clearly and you want to laugh out loud. This situation is more messed up than you would like it to be but the feeling you usually get around him stirs in your gut once again.

“My partner just left. I gave them my ring back,” holding up your hand, you show him the blank spot where your wedding ring used to be. Explaining that your marriage has been over for quite some time and this was only waiting to happen, you see him smile, and you can’t help but to smile back. Feeling that this conversation is far away from being over, but something tells you that it can wait. Taking a step forward, you grab his collar before he can react and rise on your toes to press your lips against his. The red swirls around the both of you and for once in your life, you don’t hate your ability.

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 1

Peter Parker x reader

A/N: This is some type of wish fulfillment writing for me because I like to imagine becoming a hot and badass superhero when I fall asleep and I thought other people may be entertained as well :) If you enjoy it, like or reblog to share!

REMINDER: in this story, the reader gains superpowers and I do describe the appearance of her body. i hope you know every body is a superhero body and weight does not impact your beauty at all-i just needed to show how drastic the changes were!

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, attempted kidnapping, guns/violence

The sun that came beaming through your window brightly as you opened the blinds in your room immediately brought a small smile to your face. Summer had always been your favorite season. As smart as you were, a three month break from Midtown has never sounded better. Junior year had not been easy for you.

Small goosebumps appear on your arms as you shiver when the memory of that night crosses your mind.

***

You’d been walking home after your first day of school, distracted as images of the day flicker through your mind. The first day was always exciting, new classes and people. Probably why you were too distracted to notice the man creeping up behind you until he wrapped his hands around your backpack and yanked it off of your back, making you let out a yelp of surprise.

Or, he’d tried to. Unfortunately, this dumb ass criminal didn’t know how backpack straps work and when he tugged, the straps caught around your arms and yanked you off your feet, slamming your body into your attacker with a groan.

Panic immediately clouded your mind. You’d never been mugged before. You try desperately to remember anything from the self defense class you’d taken in seventh grade. The attacker seemed surprised that your bag hadn’t slid off your body and this gave you the opportunity to scream. “Help!” You shrieked. “Somebody!” It was the middle of the day in New York and yet, the street you were walking was dead empty.

“Shut the fuck up.” The man growled in your ear and you suddenly became aware of his death grip on your arm. Before you could contemplate punching him in the face or kneeing his dick, a sharp poke on your arm made you whip your head, just in time to see a needle full of glowing blue liquid being injected into your arm by the man. He hadn’t wanted your backpack at all.

The shock you felt as you watched the unfamiliar substance enter your body was amplified at the burning sensation quickly spreading from the injection site to your whole upper arm. The man lets out a harsh laugh, and you finally turn to see his face. He did not look like a homeless man. Or a thief. The sight of his groomed beard and expensive jacket made you feel like you’d been plunged in ice. What the hell was happening?

“What did you do to me?” The sound of your voice is much stronger than you expect it to be, and it helps to ease a couple of the butterflies going mental inside your stomach. At least you didn’t sound terrified. He just lets out a low laugh and begins to drag you by your backpack towards a car parked on the opposite side of the road you hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re coming with me.”

The burning had spread to your entire left arm and was now taking over your left shoulder. If you didn’t have adrenaline coursing through your veins due to your current situation, you would’ve been doubled over with pain. You struggle against the man’s hold on your backpack as he drags you closer to the large black SUV.

Hell no. I am not getting kidnapped today. You force yourself to calm enough to quickly think of a plan. Any plan. When the man reaches the car despite your struggling, a disgusting sneer on his face, he lets go of his grip on your arm to reach for the handle, and you take your chance to head-butt him as hard as you possibly can-letting your arms slide out of the backpack as you do.

“Ow! Get back here you little bitch!” But it’s too late. In the two seconds when the man doubles over to clutch at his head, you’d snatched your backpack from the ground where he’d let it fall and sprinted down the street. You try to tell yourself that the unbearable burning sensation now settling into your chest is from running, not from whatever the fuck he’d injected you with.

***

A loud beep, beep from the clock on your bedside table snaps you out of reminiscing on your near death experience and a large smile grows on your face. Finally it was 5 p.m, the time when your mom usually went over to her boyfriend’s apartment across town. Every night, like clockwork, since you were 13.

It used to bother you, but now the silence gives you the opportunity to do what you needed to do alone. You get up and move towards your closet as you let your mind slip into your memories again as you reminisce on the events after the attack.

***

You’d run home like hell and had never been so grateful to find that your mom had left early. Within ten minutes, the burning had spread and you were left to writhe around in pain on your bed for hours. There was no let up, no break. You knew you were going to die.

Whatever the man had injected in you was breaking apart every muscle, every atom in your body so slowly that you could feel it. Eventually, your pained screams became quieter as exhaustion began to take over. This is it. I’m really going to die. My mom is going to come home and find me like this-

Before you could finish your thought, a harsh gasp involuntarily left your mouth and you launch forward to sit up. Okay, maybe I’m not going to die. You thought as the pain suddenly ceases. You slowly bring your hands up to stare at them, scared that the pain will return. Just as you’re about to let out a breath of relief, it hits you again.

And it’s so much worse. The burning sensation shoots through your body, and every broken muscle and molecule felt as though it was being bound together again. The minutes bleed together as exhaustion and pain take over your body.

***

Looking back, you still have no idea what was in the injection. All you know is what happened because of it.

***

Beep, beep.

Beep, beep.

BEEP, BEEP.

The incessant beeping of your stupid alarm wakes you from quite possibly the weirdest dream you’ve ever had. You’ve never had pain in a dream feel so vivid before, and the memory alone draws your body inwards, hugging your arms in for comfort.

Your arms. Hold on.

They didn’t feel like this last night. You glance down at your skin, the shadow of your blanket making it hard to see. You rip the covers off and storm over to your full length mirror-and all you can do is let out a gasp. I’m going crazy.

With shaking hands, you grab your phone and unlock it, scrolling until you find a mirror selfie you had taken at the pool over summer, just two weeks ago. You glance at the photo, then back up at the mirror. Then at the photo, then the mirror. Photo, mirror, photo.

A shocked laugh rips through your lips as you stare at the photo of yourself. Smooth skin and curves. A couple extra pounds of baby fat you had yet to lose, a spot or three of acne on your forehead. You weren’t an extraordinarily insecure person, but you were a teenage girl and a couple of those things had bugged you but-

Your eyes flicker up to the mirror. You run your hands along your arms. You used to describe them as flabby, but you can feel and see the toned, tight skin. You move your eyes to your boobs. Were they bigger? They definitely looked bigger.

Any “baby fat” you carried had seemingly disappeared overnight. You slowly lift your shirt and let your jaw drop, running your hands over your small waist, not missing the muscle you can feel under your skin. Your skin was perfectly clear and your hair and lashes both seemed longer and healthier.

When you were younger and more naive, you’d hoped puberty would involve waking up one morning looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. But that was stupid. Things like that don’t happen, right?

Slowly, the events of yesterday began to register in your mind. The attack, the injection, the pain. A million questions flooded your mind. The most prominent being what the actual fuck??

“Y/n? You almost ready to leave for school?” Your mom’s voice rings out into your silent room as she knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, Mom! Just a couple minutes.” You call out nervously, waiting until you hear her footsteps walk away from your door. You let out a curse as you race into the bathroom, the harsh lighting illuminating even more changes to your face.

Your lips were bigger, your eyes more open, and your cheekbones and jaw more defined. Fuck. If you weren’t so worried about anyone noticing your overnight transformation, you would’ve taken more time to think about the positives of this situation.

You were always shy and quiet at school, choosing a small group of people to hang around and mostly focusing on your classes. But every teenage girl dreams of being beautiful, and now you finally were. You pull your hair up to brush your teeth and wash your face faster than you ever have before, electing to ignore the fact that you should have a nasty bruise from your head-butt yesterday.

You choose to skip makeup completely, knowing it would draw more attention to your new face. You took one last look at your body in the mirror before pulling on the baggiest sweats you owned and a loose hoodie, hoping they would mask your new curves.

You had no idea how you were supposed to hide this all year.

***

You smiled as you remember how silly you’d acted the next day. You were overly paranoid, covering your face with your hoodie as much as you could and choosing to sit alone in the library rather than at your usual table. No one questioned you, not once.

You had felt a pang of loneliness at first, knowing that no one at your school even cared enough to notice the obvious change had hurt just a bit, but it made dealing with the powers easier.

***

You’d first noticed it on the walk to school. It was barely September and the summer sun was still coming down on the city. This paired with your heavy layers of clothing and the long walk to school would normally leave you slightly breathless. As you arrived at the school feeling more energized and alive than ever, you noticed you’d gotten there in a fourth of your normal time without even trying.

You next noticed it in gym, when the daily pushups the teachers forced you all to do every year were suddenly easy. Effortless. As soon as the final bell rang, you ran home within minutes without feeling winded at all and winced as you threw your door open, nearly ripping it off it’s hinges.

Something else was definitely going on. Your appearance was not the only thing that seemed to go through an upgrade. You said a quick hello to your mom before running up to your room.

For the first time since you woke up that morning, you relaxed once your door was closed and locked. Your shoulders release as you sink to your bed, dropping your head into your hands. You try to recall anything you’ve read about people being totally changed after some sort of injection.

Your heart sinks. Captain America jumps to mind. The Winter Soldier, Wanda Maximoff and her dead brother. They’d all been injected.

You bite your lip and glance at a book sitting on your bedside table. You straighten up and thrust your hands towards the book, trying to make it move. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. You close your eyes and breath out a small breath of relief. Ok so I’m beautiful now and have great endurance, at least I’m not a superhero. You let yourself relax slightly, your eyes still closed. Now you feel dumb for throwing your hands around like some kind of knock off Scarlet Witch.

When you open your eyes, your blood runs cold. The book is floating in front of you, a blue glow surrounding it. Slowly, you raise your, now shaking, hands again towards the book until they flash with the same blue and it launches towards you, the force of it making you rock back as you catch it in your hands.

Well. Fuck.

***

After that, you were thankful that no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. You bite down a smile as you remember the first few months after, thinking about how much you’d changed since then.

***

You spent nearly every night for weeks studying every superhero fight video you could find on youtube and practicing the moves alone in your empty house, over and over.

It didn’t take much for you to perfect them as your new body seemed to be built for this kind of shit. Black Widow was your favorite to watch, and you made sure to spend extra time working through her signature moves, letting the flips, kicks, and punches become muscle memory.

You spent time practicing your real powers as well, though those seemed to come to you naturally. After that first delay with the book, it had almost felt like second nature to lift up the heaviest objects in your house with just a wave of the hand, but still, you practiced. Over and over and over. You quickly learned you could move people as well, namely yourself. Flying over New York in the middle of the night was something that would always leave you breathless.

Once winter settled over New York, you decided you were finally ready to try and use your abilities for good. You had near perfect control over your “magic” and you were pretty sure you’d spent more hours in the past month punching the air than sleeping.

You spent all day Sunday bent over the dusty sewing machine you dug out of a shelf in your kitchen closet. The trip to Joann’s reminded you of your mother teaching a younger you how to sew, though you two never bought yards of spandex to make a skin tight suit.

It had taken a couple minutes for you to remember how to use the machine, but you were extremely proud of the final product. You’d made a simple skin tight black suit with a zipper up the front and a mask to cover most of your face, but you figured no one could recognize you by just your mouth.

Once you finished the last hem on your face mask, you took the suit and the mask and hid them in your closet next to a pair of black combat boots. You put the dusty machine away and finally made your way into your bathroom, glancing nervously at the box on the counter.

Although you had exactly zero friends at Midtown, you had grown up with some of these kids and you couldn’t risk one of them recognizing your hair color if they saw you in your superhero suit and the box advertising temporary spray on hair color seemed to be the perfect solution.

You take the small can out of the box and spray blonde-ish highlights into your hair and brush it through until your long hair is shades lighter than your natural color and you’re happy with the results.

Your hands shook as you pulled on your suit, then your mask, and finally, the black boots. You move to your mirror and nervously give yourself a glance, only to be pleasantly surprised. You really do look like a superhero, even more so when you will your hands to glow blue with your powers.

***

That night, you learned that you had severely underestimated yourself. You thought memories of your own attack would flash before your eyes every time you knocked down a criminal, but it didn’t.

Every time you would wrap your thighs around someone’s neck to drag them to the ground you felt strong and every time the person you just saved would begin to thank you aggressively, you knew you made the right decision to help people.

You kept your guard, and your hood, up during the school days but your months of training and now your late night rescues, had caused a spike in your confidence. After a particularly hard 18 vs. 1 fight in which your zipper had gotten yanked down a bit, you just left it. It looked better like that anyway.

You wished you had someone to show the new you. You used to be so unsure of yourself, and now because of a seemingly random attack, you had the ability to help people. It definitely felt good to be doing something good.

Unfortunately, your endeavors started to become sensationalized. New York was obsessed with superheroes, you knew this. But you never thought people would start paying attention to you.

You should’ve known better. A girl with enhanced curves in a skin tight suit, flying around the city with glowing blue hands and fighting crime with her front zipper pulled down, and you thought you could remain invisible in the media too?

Luckily for you, the spotlight was cast upon another new superhero around the same time-a Spiderman. Once he entered the superhero scene just weeks after yourself, you noticed the articles you’d previously seen sexualizing you and your costume turned into articles about the two of you instead. If only those reporters knew you were 17.

You were thankful for him even though you’d never met him, and your two names “Spiderman and Sapphire” were often used in the same headlines to discuss you two newcomers.

At first you hated the nickname the media gave you simply because of the increased attention, but you learned to love it. It was nice to see people appreciating what you were doing, even though every camera that was ever pointed your way made you anxious to protect your identity.

Ever since your first winter night spent fighting crime, you’d quickly fallen into a pattern. School with your eyes glued to your desk the whole time, sweats and hoodies concealing your body, then homework until your mom leaves, then go out and help your city.

Your fighting has improved to the point that you almost prefer hand to hand combat rather than using your powers. On especially slow nights, you’ve let yourself drag out a fight with some bank robbers or kidnappers just to entertain yourself.

It was your escape. In your suit, with your face covered and your hair thick with the lightening spray, was the only time you felt like yourself. Really yourself.

But you had a plan to change that. As easy as it had been to lay low throughout the last year at school, you’d had enough. You wanted more. So you had a plan. A new body and face overnight is impossible, but over three months? Totally plausible.

You were excited for three months with nothing to do but go out as Sapphire, and you knew these few months were going to be the calm before the storm if you really decided to go back to Midtown as the new you.

God, enough with the reminiscing. You told yourself, but you do allow yourself to feel pride at how much you’d matured from your first day of school this year to your last as you tug on your familiar suit and mask.

***

You glance down at the buildings beneath you, eyes silently scanning every dark alley and corner for trouble. Your hands glow blue as you fly yourself gracefully through the sky. Suddenly, loud sirens and screams sound from beneath you and you look down to see 8 large men climbing into a bank as they smashed the windows.

You quickly fly yourself down and through the hole behind the men as they point guns towards the only two people in the bank, a janitor and a man you assume is the manager. “Give us the fucking money.” One of the men growls and the others laugh menacingly at their friend’s threat.

The manager notices you standing behind the men and his eyes widen, causing the men to start to turn towards you. You grab the gun out of one of their hands using your powers and smirk at the oh, shit look on their faces. Before you can make a move to knock the man nearest you off his feet, a web snaps through the broken window and snatches the gun from his hands before you can blink.

Spiderman comes swinging through the opening, landing gracefully. “What’s going on here, fellas?” He asks, and you can’t help but smirk at the sound of his voice. The two of you seemed to live similar lives, and yet this was your first time meeting him.

The white eyes of his mask flicker from the men, frozen with fear, towards you, and his eyes grow with recognition and maybe shock? Hard to tell with the mask. He opens his mouth to say something else, but one of the men still holding guns raises it and fires towards Spiderman without a second of hesitation.

You raise your hand quickly, stopping the bullet in mid-air and everyone around you stares at the bullet suspended in mid-air, your glowing blue hand outstretched, almost as if you were catching it. Spiderman’s eyes widen even more. “Holy shit.”

You smile to yourself and clench your hand into a fist, letting the bullet crumble to the ground in dust. “Nice try.” You say to the man. “But you’re getting on my nerves.” You turn towards the 8 men in front of you, 5 still holding guns. You move your hand to face the men, and with a sweeping motion, the 5 guns are yanked from their hands to suspend far above their heads, where they couldn’t reach.

You can’t help a small laugh as one of the men tries to jump up and grab it. You turn towards Spiderman who’s standing there with his mouth wide open. “Sorry if I stole your moment.” You say genuinely. You had no doubt that he could’ve taken care of this himself, but you had gotten here first.

“Are you kidding?” He nearly squeaked. “That was amazing, oh my god! I can’t believe we haven’t met until now.” Your cheeks blaze slightly under your mask from his praise, you’ve never had a superhero compliment you before. You adjust your focus back to the men quickly, who seem to be thinking of a way to run.

Your eyes meet Spidey’s again. “You wanna web ‘em up?” He nods excitedly, his eyes finally breaking from yours as he jumps into action. As impressed as he was by you, you couldn’t help but watch in awe as he swings around the room and with a thwick, he webs all of the men together in a cocoon, hanging upside down from the chandelier of the bank ceiling.

He swings himself one last time to land next to you again. “Cool.” You say before you can even realize your mouth is open. “I mean, you’re not too bad yourself.” He bows his head a bit, seeming shy even though it was a half-compliment to cover up your embarrassment.

“Sorry to bust in on your fight,” He says, glancing around the room towards the two terrified employees staring at the two of you in shock. “Not a lot happening tonight, and I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ugh, I know.” You agree. “Not to complain about less crime, but our jobs have been a little bit too easy this past week.” His mask crinkles as he smiles.

“We could...work together sometime if you wanted too, of course.” He says nervously, nearly stuttering on his words. “It’s just, you’re really good and you seem really cool and I-”

You interrupt his word vomit. “Of course I want to! I’ve been wondering when we would meet.” His eyes move from staring at the eye holes in your mask down to your lips when you smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

“How’s right now?” You don’t think your smile can get wider. “One sec.” He holds up a finger before quickly running over to the two bank workers, who thank you both over and over and then they both hugged him. You were wrong, your smile grows and remains goofy and big as he runs back over to you. “Let’s go.”

That night you found out that your view of the city is 100 times better when you can also see a red and blue suit swinging from building to building out of the corner of your eye.

[moldisgoodforyou]

winter formal

warnings: cursing, smut (18+)

gif from @rafecameron​

wordcount: 2.1k

________

“Christ.” Rafe breathed out as he watched Sophie come out the door, duffel bag in hand for the night’s stay. He let his eyes trail over her for a moment too long and she paused, folding her arms over her chest to cover herself up. “What, is it too much? A girl in Theta went to Delt’s formal last year and said this was the right amount of dressed up. Fuck, I can go change, just give me a moment -”

As she turned on her heel Rafe came to his senses and caught her forearm, tugging her back. “No, this is perfect. You’re perfect. You look incredible.” He cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss that went on longer than he intended. She was bright red by the time she pulled away and smoothed her palms over the fabric of her dress. “You’re sure? I won’t stand out?”

“Oh you’ll stand out. In a good way, though.” Rafe assured her, grinning as he offered his arm to escort her to the car. She beamed and accepted. “Okay, good. I trust you.” He kept his hand on her thigh the whole drive, stealing several glances at every red light. When he lingered too long at a green light, Sophie flicked his arm. “Drive, Rafe. You’ve seen me in a dress before.”

He startled and looked back to the road. “Not one like that.”

“It’s just a blue dress, I don’t understand.”

“Just a blue dress, that makes you look extra gorgeous, dips just low enough to show you off, and this fucking slit up the side is going to drive me crazy.” He squeezed her leg for emphasis, fingers teasingly dancing up her thigh. She pushed his hand back and adjusted the fabric of her dress back over her leg. “Behave.”

“Always do, Soph.” He shot her a cheeky grin and she grinned back, skating her fingers across the nape of his neck. “When do I get to see you in your suit?”

“Ah, I have it in the back and figured I’d just change real quick at the hotel before. Didn’t want to wrinkle it.” He leaned his head back into her touch and let out a satisfied hum when she started playing with his hair. “Wait, you mean I could have done the same thing?” She scowled. “I got ready early for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. I’ll take every extra second of seeing you in that dress.”

“Not fair.” 

“Totally fair.” He countered. They checked in and made their way up to their room, Sophie making a mental note to befriend some of the girls downstairs that were already dressed up for the dinner before the dance. “I’ve never been invited to a formal like this, you know.” She stated, taking a seat on the bed. Rafe started changing, his back to her. “Yeah? I’m surprised, figured you’d been to a lot of these by now.” There was just a hint of jealousy in his tone. 

“I mean, I’ve been to the dances before, just, um, not the overnight ones.” She paused. “You know, there’s like an expectation...” 

He whirled around, only his dress pants on and his hair all messy from pulling his shirt over his head. “That’s not why I asked you. You know that? I want you to be here, as my girlfriend.” 

She laughed at his state of disarray. “Yeah, I know. Especially considering you forgot to ask me until two days ago.” She teased. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “Sorry about that. Again. But seriously, I just wanted you to come and have fun and dance. No pressure. No matter what.” He promised, sweet as always. “I know, Rafe, it’s alright.” She reassured him, eyeing him over. “Put a shirt on. You’re distracting.” 

He instantly smirked, puffing up his chest and flexing his abs. “Yeah?” 

“Oh my god.” She threw a pillow at him. “We’ve wasted enough time already, get dressed. I don’t want to be late.” 

“We could be fashionably late.” He countered, catching the pillow in one hand and coming closer. He leaned down to kiss her but she ducked away, bracing a hand on his chest. “Soph, c’mon.” She laughed. “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick, I’ll kiss you all you want later. Get dressed.” 

“Is that a promise?” He kissed her temple quickly anyways. 

She rolled her eyes and pushed at him. “Bite me.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” He smirked, then went back to get dressed. Sophie just shook her head, watching him with a fond smile. Once he was ready to go, she stood and straightened out his tie and mussed up his hair just the way she liked it, then gave him a quick kiss. “Very handsome, Rafe Cameron.” 

__

After the dinner, they were first of a few out on the dance floor, eager to drink and dance and just enjoy themselves.

“Didn’t think you could dance.” Sophie teased him as he spun her out from him, a perpetual grin on his face. “I’ve had my practice.” He replied, pulling her back in close. Rafe didn’t let her go all night, either keeping her hand-in-hand or his hand on the small of her back. She rested her head on his chest, swaying with him as a slow song came on. 

“Fucking soft, Cameron.” A very drunk James teased, waltzing dramatically past the two of them with his girlfriend. Rafe just grinned and flipped him off, keeping Sophie close. “You’re ruining my rep, Soph.” She snorted. “You were the one that made me watch Clueless last week, I think your rep was already shot.” 

He scoffed and stepped back, hands on her waist. “It’s a great example of a modern adaptation of a classic novel! And you loved it!” 

“I know. Thank you for proving my point.” She grinned and reached up to kiss him. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.” He blushed and pulled her back into his chest, pressing his lips to her temple. “Shh.” 

Later in the night, the two were more than tipsy, sharing champagne and cocktails all night. The DJ played another slow song to close out the night and Rafe convinced Sophie to come back out and dance, even though she had ditched her heels an hour ago and at least half the boys and their dates had left the party a while ago. She stayed quiet as they danced, thoughtful. He caught her chin and tipped it up with a finger to catch her attention. “What’s on your mind, angel?” 

“You scare the shit out of me sometimes, you know?” 

“What? Why?” He widened his eyes, thoroughly confused. 

“Because.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever cared about someone so much before.” 

He exhaled, wrapping her in a big hug. “Just gave me a heart attack for a moment there, Soph.” She laughed, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Sorry, wasn’t thinking. Does that...that doesn’t freak you out, does it?” 

“No, not at all. I feel the same.” He reassured her and kissed her forehead. “You’re my girl.” She beamed and rested her head on his chest again, swaying back and forth. When the lights came on and the music faded out, she let out a low whine. “Don’t wanna leave.” 

He laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “C’mon, you tired?” 

“A little.” She admitted. 

James came by them, arm looped around his girlfriend. “Hey, are you guys going out with us? We’re gonna catch an uber to some bar.” 

Rafe gave her a questioning glance and she raised her eyebrows back at him. He grinned. “We might catch up with you later.” James nodded, not oblivious to the situation, but decided not to tease purely because Sophie was right there. “Good deal, let me know.” They parted ways and Rafe and Sophie made their way up to the hotel room, hand in hand. 

When the door fell shut behind him, Rafe rocked back on his heels, giving her a cheeky grin. “Well? What do you want to do?” 

“Oh, shut up and get over here.” She tugged on his tie, pulling him close. He laughed and kissed her hard for the first time that night, not holding back. 

It was a matter of minutes before both their clothes were on the floor, leaving him on top of her on the bed, fingers working at her core. “More, Rafe.” She moaned, her hand tangled in his hair. He kissed her quickly before pushing her up the bed, gripping her thighs. Sophie whined at the loss, shortly, before he was flicking his tongue across her clit, two fingers curling inside of her. “Fuck.” She breathed out, letting her head drop back to the pillows. 

“You can come for me, baby.” He told her, speeding up his pace. It didn’t take long before she reached her high, tensing around his fingers and biting her lip hard. He worked her through it, rubbing gentle circles on her clit before she had to push his hand away. “Too much.” She mumbled. He laughed softly and came up to kiss her. “You look so fucking pretty like that.” 

“Alright, quit.” She shook her head, blushing. Rafe just grinned. “Can’t be shy on me now after all that.” She rolled her eyes and curled her hand around the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer. 

“Soph, angel, we’ve got a slight problem.” He breathed out, cheeks flushed just from watching her come. She tried her best to ignore the flutter in her chest from the nickname and propped herself up on her elbows. “If the problem is what I think it is, we can take care of that.”

“Ah. No.” He laughed a little and leaned over to kiss her, painfully aware of how hard he was in his boxers. “I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t thinking.” She raised her eyebrows and immediately slipped her hand in his boxers, enjoying his strangled groan in response. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.”

He could hardly think with her fingers wrapped around his cock. “Fuck - I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to -” He groaned when she tugged his boxers down his legs. “Fucking hell, okay.” Sophie laughed and pushed him back on the bed, taking a moment to eye him over before meeting his gaze. “Can I...?”

“God, yes.” He breathed out. “Anything.”

She jacked his cock a couple times, more experimental than anything, and raised her eyebrows at his strangled groan. “Okay?” 

“More than okay.” He reassured her quickly, willing himself not to come in two seconds just at her touch. Sophie leaned down and placed teasing kisses over his hip bones, up his thighs. When she kept avoiding him, Rafe gathered her hair aside. “Soph.” 

“Yeah?” 

“C’mon.”

She grinned, loving the power dynamic. “Are you gonna beg?” 

“Sophie, please.” 

She knew that was the closest she’d get with him and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a vein. She took her time before taking him into her mouth fully, hands on his thighs to try and keep him from jerking. “Fuck, baby, so good.” He groaned again, letting his head fall back against the pillows. 

At his encouragement, she started bobbing up and down on his cock, using her hand after a moment. Rafe didn’t stop the continual praise, mumbling fuck and shit and so fucking good, Sophie. That only spurred her on and she kept going, humming around him and loving every time he’d groan in response. She stopped just before he was about to come and jerked him off with her hand instead, keeping her eyes locked on him the whole time. 

He dropped his head back onto the bed after, letting out a big sigh. “You’re incredible. Have I told you that?” She giggled and got up. “Might have told me once or twice.” 

“Where are you going?” He frowned, reaching for her. “Shower, real fast. Want to clean up before bed.” She told him, stepping away from his grip. His mood flipped instantly and he grinned. “Can I come?” 

“No, that sounds dangerous. You can shower after me.” She didn’t let him argue, heading into the bathroom without waiting for his response. 

After they had both showered and were back in bed, Rafe was about two seconds away from falling asleep with his arm wrapped around Sophie, her head on his chest. “You’re my favorite, you know that?” 

“Yeah? For real?” She mumbled, tracing patterns on his chest. 

“For real.” He paused, stumbling over his words. “Lo - um, I like you a lot, Soph. I mean it.” 

Sophie tensed just a little, just enough for him to notice. “Like you too. Night, Rafe. Sleep tight.” 

[border-spam]

Does troy really have a split jaw or is that fanon?

It's total fanon!

The design of the split lines across his cheekbones and chin coupled with the cheek clips and v shaped hinge outline next to his ears lead to a lot of people coming to that same outcome, that there is something up with his mouth from a prosthetic/mod standpoint.

So much of his design is never mentioned once or referenced in any way (hightech spinal rig with tattoos under it, neuro connector, mech arm that's much older and doesn't seem related to the spine and neuroport, implants on bicep, face mod etc) that like Tyreen's scars and possible lower body Siren markings, fandom took over when it came to coming up with logical explanations for 'em.

This actually touches ground with some Ao3 comments I wanted to share as they are all Leech Lord compliant, so I'll list them here alongside links to the fics they were related to (note warnings!)

You leave no avenue for characterization unexplored. Troy's facial prostheses finally receiving backstory is amazing

- Maw (Gore/Bodyhorror)

I LOVE the idea of it being not just decorative shit on his face, but my MO for any content I make is always based around asking why, over and over, and trying to make sense of what material I'm using in the first place. The modded mouth is a popular piece of fanon but you know... why? Why would he do that shit to himself. WHY would he want to be grotesque, why would he be chasing the reaction people would have to it when canonically he seems to really not be interested in fan attention the same way Tyreen is, what's the difference to him between being adored as his persona or being lusted after as a monster, etc. I just love deep-diving into the logic behind character and world building? It's what adds meat to the bone for me.

Big 'ol character and worldbuilding / lore responses list under the cut -

He could afford better robots but these ones UNDERSTAND Ty, don't you get it?

- Good night in (tooth rotting fluff)

Hey just because it's mangled and broken, and can't perform its intended function to a degree expected of it by everyone around it... and it's got rusty sharp bits it accidentally hurts you with sometimes... and it's cranky but it doesn't mean it... and sometimes it errors out in a way that's mildly disturbing in a way you can't place.. uh.. doesn't mean you should just GIVE UP ON IT you know? He can fix them :) They will be fine :) No one should just throw away something that's trying so hard just because it's damaged... haha... :')

It's so hard seeing how much they tear each other down when they're the only thing they have left. And what a poor self-image Tyreen has beyond all that glitter and bluster...

- Wolf in sheep's clothing

The twins function well enough as a unit till tensions rise, and I was trying to seed in The Leech's influence on them in earlier work like this too - towards anyone else Ty would become MORE aggressively confident, more assured in her complete and utter dominance of the situation, her flawlessness, but against Troy who see's her for what she is, it turns inwards and eats at her instead of lashing outwards. He switches from relatively submissive around her to almost surgical levels of dissection, he knows exactly how to go for the jugular with words, and doesn't hold back. She's The Leech's mouth but he's its eyes and it's only when they lose control emotionally enough for it to claw to the surface of their psyches that you get an idea of how much it really affects them individually. GB had an absolute goldmine on their hands here of cosmic/body horror and the concept of toxic family when all you have is each other, there's so much to work with, and I figure it's a factor in why some people still really enjoy messing around with Calypso content.

I like how you allow Troy to be a disabled character, how his congenital defects and prosthetics colour his outlook and appear in ways big and small in all these vignettes. It's easy, I think, to see him as largely untroubled by his health apart from when he needs a charge from Tyreen in the game, but you allow him to struggle with his weakness.

- Chronic (Drug use)

I'm really glad to hear that's coming through in the writing because it's something I noticed a lot too. Very often when Troy, or other characters canonically disabled / chronically unwell are written it's "told" and not "shown". Chronic pain, illness, it's not something that is just a little tickbox in a life or some descriptive terms added to a character synopsis, it's something you live and deal with. There are bad days. There are times it is a negative that has to be worked around or faced in ways that aren't pleasant. It doesn't make you lesser or weak to have times where illness does leave you unable to function to a level you want to, it's not a failure for you to be unable to perform tasks when a disability or flair up means it's not viable. I feel personally that by showing scenes like this where his health and body issues do have a very visceral and impossible to ignore the effect on his ability to function, and going through his mental processes of dealing with and managing them, it brings the character across as stronger than if he never seemed to be shown dealing with symptoms or weaknesses. People are more than their disabilities and conditions, those aren't just kinda taglines to add onto a character's description and then never address. I feel like doing that in a way undermines what people deal with who manage chronic illness, pain, and who have disabilities that affect their daily lives negatively. Appreciating the effort it takes to manage them is important.

What I really like about these is that you can really understand as a reader how their dynamic must have evolved. How even before Leda's death Tyreen would have felt demonized while Troy got the attention because of his condition, because he was less willful.

- Starlight, Moonbright

Ah man, absolutely - and that shit stayed with them. It wasn't his fault and he never wanted it, but of course their parents would have had their extremely ill child at the forefront of their thoughts, especially during weeks when he was.. bad. Tyreen by nature even without The Leech's influence is a little attention seeker, she'd be the life of any party and she BLOSSOMS if she's got the spotlight, but as a little kid who's got literally no one but her parents and her brother, and who all three of which can't give her nearly as much time as she deserved? That's rough. That's really unfair. That coupled with The Leech's warping effect on their egos as they grew up and the bitterness and resentment they harbored in different ways created a reverse dynamic. She'd never be out of the Galaxy's attention again, and he'd have no choice but to take his rightful place in her shadow.

I love how you illustrate both how much more, and yet how much less Troy is now. How the blameless child, full of potential, is inextricably linked to the brutal, larger-than-life avatar he fashions.

- DeLeon ( Graphic Violence / Gore / Hallucinations)

He's molded the monster he is now out of the bones of the man he should have been - there's no going back really. There's nothing left to go back to. He broke Troy DeLeon apart to build the persona that acts like an iron lung now, suffocating him breath by breath while forcing him to still take them. That life is over, he killed it before it had a chance, but the idea of it is still there in his subconscious. Somewhere in the absolute trainwreck of Troy's brain is the tiny, flickering belief that maaaaaybe one day this will all be over and he can shuck off the bracer and spines, peel off all the shit he's covered his skin with, and just go back to not being Calypso. DeLeon here isn't some aspect of his mental state or his sins haunting him - it's The Leech, spitting venom at a host it loathes in something that's not sound or comprehensible language. His subconscious has just translated it into something it can understand - his greatest regret.

On if Borderlands Humans originated on Earth -

There's a really tenuous link between BL verse and rEarth, but it's there and can't be ignored. The cultures, accents, terminologies, so many are Earth specific despite these people being spread across galaxies, so hell yes - Earth as an emergence point makes total sense. The next question then, is why is it never mentioned - and you can cover for that with a lot of things like say, tt was so long ago that it's not relevant to anything that would ever be discussed, or it could be a mass evacuation from a catastrophe there is little record of now. I like to go with something along those lines, that the first human Siren host emergence on earth just absolutely decimated the planet. Like, we were doing fine till this random woman somewhere in the ass-end of nowhere develops weird markings overnight, then goes apocalyptic. The first Leech maybe, not understanding her powers and having them rip across continents in a spread of crackling electric death that only left husked shells of plants and animals in its wake, or the first Firehawk who went nuclear and burned the sky, or the first Voidgrasp who lost control and began to collapse the planet's core - some extreme shit that had humans fleeing en masse with barely any preparation and HUGE swathes of history and knowledge left behind. That would cover so many social things surviving into the BL verse, cultures, accents, cooking, that shit comes with us regardless of what we were able to throw into escape ships. Like so much data would be stored on any tech and data arrays within the vessels people would use to leave a dying planet even in an insane rush, but that shit waters down over time - if you're farming barely edible plants on some planet that smells like farts, are you really gonna be that stressed about teaching your kids history from a lost planet when your current concerns are not being eaten by something with 19 legs and 4 buttholes? Don't think so.

On if the other Siren entities are as influential to their hosts as The Leech -

I touch on it a wee bit throughout LL, but the others are FAR more passive and meld more to their host's whims. The Firehawk Siren wouldn't.. like.. care? If the host was burning down a planet or fighting off an evil corporation? They are removed from any nonsense happening on this side, they might not even really be able to tell, it's like asking an amoeba or a collection of sentient atomic particles what its opinion is on Brexit. That's not really its priority. The Leech is so aggressive in its control of the twins and desperation to drive them towards an outcome it desires only cause it's split, broken, removed from the song, and completely lost. We're talking a caged, half-mad animal removed from its natural environment and left totally isolated from its own kind for millennia. It's in pain, it's confused, it wants to find its way back to the song and the others and where it belongs, but it's stopped by a barrier it can't comprehend ( the twins and being ripped between them), so in its impotent rage it feeds back that hatred onto them. It's not really sentient in the way we would describe functional intelligence, but it wants, and craves, and FEELS. And it feels very, very angry.

Big thanks to @undergoingcalibrations for talking through so much of this with me!

Asks are Open!

[passivenovember]

Chapter Six of : If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields

--

Billy goes home less than an hour after Steve suggests they play operation. When he looks at Billy with eyelashes Neil Armstrong could see from the moon and suggests they cozy up among the coffee table books to do some lasting good in the world; get the tooth out of that guy's dick for him--

Billy has to get out of there.

It was too much.

The house. The colors. The fabric. The smell of Steve's shampoo, which is less like peeled lemons and more like funeral flowers, the longer Billy sits around getting sunburnt under the intense light of a man who wasn't interested in him beyond starched collar friendship.

And he's not mad at Steve. Isn't on his way to punch a hole in his drywall, or anything, but he's mad at himself. Mad at his heart for kicking up a cloud of pink smoke when Billy stands and says he'd better get going. 

And Steve's face falls like snow that covers Billy's driveway, that glues his feet together.

"Papers." Billy says quickly, searching for the coat he knows he didn't bring up the drive.

"Newspapers?" Steve goes along with him, adjusting the yellow bandana behind his ears. He turns with a swoosh of his orange rug robe to dig through the shelves on the wall. "I have some here. Old ones, new ones. There's an edition from 1985 about the mall burning down, it's pretty interesting. Would you like that?"

"Sure, I'll, uh--" Billy takes the yellowing pages from Steve without really thinking about it, jerking away when Harrington lands too close. Close enough that Billy can see the specks of green in his eyes. "I meant. Teaching papers. Assignments." The newspaper smells old. Like books and dust, and faintly of spilled bong water from the pipe of a baghead teenager long ago. "I have to grade papers."

Steve doesn't take it back from him. "I thought you taught kindergarten."

"I do."

"Kindergarteners write papers?" Steve's hair flops across his forehead. Like big, wavy puppy dog ears on either side of his face. 

Billy has to force his tongue to stay in his mouth, his eyes to stop staring. "I meant, like. Spelling. Numbers. Rudimentary bullshit." Billy shakes the newspaper at puppy dog Steve. "Declan Parks can't even tie his own shoes, so--"

"Alright. Okay." Steve says sweetly, pushing Billy's hand back to his own chest, fingers wrapping around his palm. "Take it with you. There's a lot of history in this town, mythology and folklore--rumors of bloodsucking aliens and evil scientists camping out under the power plant." Steve doesn't let go of Billy's hand. He grins instead, dimples popping like fireworks on his face. "We're a regular Twin Peaks ripoff. Read about it, let me know what you think." And.

Steve doesn't back away. Doesn't back down.

"I'll give you a ring sometime." Billy says suddenly.

"Okay."

"Yeah, alright, uh." Billy backs toward the front door, two finger salute making pink skies land on Steve's face. "Thanks for the grub. I'll see you in the driveway, or--"

Steve laughs, following Billy to the door. 

"Around. Yeah, Steve, I'll--"

Steve places a hand on Billy's shoulder and the world stops spinning. Melting right off the bone. Billy fights to get air in his lungs as Steve brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, fingertips lighting Billy's skin on fire.

"See you around, neighbor." Steve says.

And Billy knows, feels in his bones, that he'd do better moving across town.

--

It keeps snowing. 

Morning noon and night, wood nymphs piling on ice and hail down on a town of 36,000 people until Billy feels alone. Like an animal trapped in a beige house on a white street that exists in a bubble. A snow globe immune to light and sound. 

There's a period of days where school is cancelled and Billy runs out of things to keep himself occupied. All the books have been read and returned to their place on the shelf. All the films watched and replayed until Billy draws his own conclusions, until the characters feel like his own.

On the first day Billy feels like he's losing his mind.

He orders groceries. Picks up some thermal socks. Considers making a pie or something from scratch, like his mother used to do before Neil went missing on Christmas Eve, but. He doesn't have a rolling pin.

On the second day he drags a chair over to the window and stares at the warm, peachy light from Steve's upstairs window as it shine on the drifts that gather and climb toward heaven. Billy thinks about that living room as if it were a vision from some other planet. A universe crafted in the image of virality.

Billy thinks about Steve and wishes he could be like that. 

Wide eyed. Free.

--

On the third day, Megan says Billy should begin preparing for spring.

"We're snowed in." Billy mutters, cleaning up the polish on his toes. A gorgeous matte eggplant color that proves--spring isn't on his radar. 

"You're getting bogged down with the ice and snow," Megan reiterates, pen scratching across the page so loudly that Billy can hear it with the phone on speaker. "Before long the flowers will bloom again. The sun will shine, it's something everyone has to prepare for. Rebirth, growth--"

"I don't have a garden."

"Don't be a shitter, Billy." Megan sighs, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "We can work with that. Would it do some good to plant one?"

Billy starts painting his other foot. "I don't want to stay in Hawkins forever."

"That's understandable."

"And I have plans this spring." Billy twists the cap onto the nail polish, swinging his foot around in the air as if that'll make things move faster. "Max and I want to go hiking back home. I'm supposed to help my mom get the boathouse ready for the summer, and I don't want to start something permanent in a place I can't see myself settling down in--"

"A couple marigold bushes are not permanent, you could kill 'em off with a single neglectful week in the summer and you know it." Megan falls silent, only the click of her pen left behind. "This move has been rough on you, and it's been rough on your body, and it's been hell on your space."

Billy shrugs. "It's been fine on my space."

"Have you even finished unpacking?" Megan demands, strictly business.

"I don't want to set down roots--"

"You've lived in Hawkins for two years, Billy, and you haven't finished unpacking."

A lump appears in his throat, just like that, just. Choking the air from his lungs. Megan must hear Billy swallow, or sense the shift in the air because her voice goes soft around the edges. Pliant. "It's a new cycle." 

Billy tries not to think about Max. "Alright."

"Time to blow the cobwebs away." 

"Dust the spider houses." Billy says to himself. He tries not to think about their garden back home, the fertile smell of fresh Earth somehow finding its way to Hawkins despite Billy's efforts. He misses Mammoth Lakes. He tries not to think about it. Then; "Max is coming down for my week off."

"That's not until March."

"So?"

Megan sighs, like Billy should get it by now. "That's way into the spring season, what you need this year is to get a head start." She scribbles something down on the page again. "We've been through this before. You're beyond me spelling out what you need. You've been my client long enough to know the type of person you are, Billy."

He smirks. "Yeah, and what kind of person is that?"

"Someone who likes to open his doors and let in the fresh air." She moves some papers around, voice firm. "Bright colored walls, and bird baths littering diverse lawns even though they turn to green slime when not filtered properly. The kind of man who likes to shop second hand because 'everything has a soul--'"

"Are you reading from my journal?"

"Need I go on?" Megan lets Billy mull it over for a moment. Lets him draw is own conclusions. When she speaks again it's like Billy already knows what she wants to say. Already believes it himself, but. That's never stopped her before. 

"We were just talking about Steve last week."

"We're always talking about Steve," Billy snaps. "Last week, and the week before that, and yesterday and tomorrow--"

"Perpetually." Megan teases. "I know. But you said you liked his house. That's what we discussed last time; not Steve or his hair or how embarrassed you are about the rats--" Billy wishes everyone would let that part go. "But his house. The way it made you feel."

He can see it in his minds eye--Megan leaning forward, legs uncrossed on her big hammock chair, blue and gray glasses catching the glint in her eye as she pokes through his spirit and lands at the root.

The bone.

"What is it you liked about Steve's place and what is it you hate about your own and where is the through line?"

She gives him homework. Student and teacher.

Billy hates homework, but. He jots the instructions down in his notebook anyway and wonders, distantly, if the skies will continue to open above his head and if he'll ever learn to accept it.

--

On the fourth day Billy's power goes out. 

Just like that. 

With no bang or whimper it's just there one moment and gone the next.

One minute he's watching Wayne's World, wrapped in five blankets and eating soup from one of those bowls with the built in straw, and the next he's submerged in darkness. Looking around the living room like a startled chicken, still slurping down tomato soup and hoping it's just a surge.

It's not. 

Billy finishes his soup.

He manages to keep the feeling in his toes even as he wanders around the house lighting every candle he can find, sticking towels over the cracks in his front door and remembering to turn the faucets on drip so the pipes won't freeze overnight.

Outside the storms keep raging.

Billy can't see the end of the front porch, so he grabs his blankets and heads to bed. Remembers to plug in his phone, on the off chance that the power will come back on while he's out, and Billy feels good about himself for a lot of reasons. For remembering his Midwestern Winter Survival Skills, and buying thermal socks when he went shopping last week, and as the temperature keeps dropping Billy feels himself drifting off.

Warm and safe in his cocoon of blankets, he wonders if the power has come back on when someone bangs on his bedroom window.

Billy sits bolt upright, hissing as cold air manages to snake in through an opening near his feet. The knock comes again, louder this time, and Billy thinks about what he read from that article in the Hawkins Post dated July 5th, 1985. 

"Billy?" 

Harrington is wrapped in a blanket. 

That's all, just a knitted monstrosity of orange and green draped across his shoulders, paired with a black hoodie and the care bears scarf that haunts Billy's dreams. He's got yellow gardening gloves on his fingers and, over his head of wavy brown hair, a pink beanie that reads, If I Die of Aids--Forget Burial--Drop My Body on the Steps of the FDA, in teal block letters.

Steve Harrington could break hearts.

Billy's heart is floating through the air, just. Decimated. As Steve smiles and taps on the window. "I tried the front but I figured you were asleep." He says.

And it takes Billy a minute to find his voice. He opens the window, grimacing at the snow on the ledge that topples in. "What are you doing?"

"I cleared a path. Around the house. By the propane tank." Steve says, gesturing with his stupid little gloves. "I took care of the driveway for you. And put some ice melt down, brought some firewood up to the door."

"Wait, what?"

"I just picked some up from Melvalds yesterday, it's no biggie--"

"The powers out." Billy grumbles, using the corner of his blanket to scrub at his face. "Shouldn't you be stock piling layers, like the rest of us?"

"'S not so bad at home."

"It's colder in here than it is outside."

Steve jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Mr. Bane's auditioning to be a starfish on my mattress."

"Push that little fucker over the edge." 

Steve leans back, gripping the window ledge with an easy smile. "I could never do that. We have a system--I let him sleep on my bed every night on the condition that he doesn't shit in the hallway anymore." Steve lifts one hand and taps his forehead, pleased as punch. "Work smarter, not harder. Right?"

And that makes Billy blush. Either from the image of Steve's fat Mainecoon running the show or the fact that Steve lets it happen, even on the coldest night of the year. 

It's sweet. 

Steve's sweet. Like sun tea with extra sugar, just--

"So where does that leave you?" Billy muses, picking at a loose thread on his pillow case just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. "It's too cold for the floor, and the living room's gotta be drafty, right?"

Steve shrugs, leaning against the window pane and looking over his shoulder, as if daring the ice to fall again. "I have an extra blanket or two, should be alright."

With his head turned that way Billy can see moles--dozens of little chocolate kisses sprinkled over Steve's skin, swirling and disappearing under the hood at his neck. 

He's beautiful.

Billy thinks the moles could taste like cinnamon or nutmeg. Hot chocolate with little drops of citrus enriching the flavor--

"You could sleep here." Billy's mouth says. 

Steve stares at him, eyes wide, but. Not surprised. Not mean. "Really?" He asks, folding his arms on the window pane and studying Billy's face. Forehead and eyelashes and back again, like maybe this is a joke. "You'd let me sleep on the couch?"

"Sure."

"What makes you think your places' gonna be any better?" Steve demands.

Light.

Teasing.

Billy shrugs again and his stupid blanket slips off one shoulder, revealing a strip of hoodie that may as well be his bare fucking skin, the way Steve's eyes track the movement. Filing it away for some unknown purpose even as Billy rights himself again. He feels every bit like the heroine in those shitty dieback erotica's his mom still reads every Saturday morning. The window lets in gust after gust of frigid air and Billy decides that he isn't going to beg.

"I'm not going to beg," Billy reiterates, though he doesn't sound convinced. "Come sleep at mine or don't, that's--"

"Unlock the front door," Steve says, and then he's gone, rainboots leaving a trail of footprints to show that this was real. 

That one night, with ice covering the trees and fields like a blanket of hope, Steve was real.