#also 17 gave me second-hand anxiety just from thinking about it

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway.  The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.  

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.  

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled.  You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do.  I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath.  “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.  

“But,” you started.  Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end.  “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously.  You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.  

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother.  Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.  

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC.  They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.  

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars.  “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe.  “She’s awfully determined.  I think she would’ve found you anyway.  Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts.  “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.  

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you.  “But I might sing one or two with her.  Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.  “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.  

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch.  They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border.  It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.  

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted.  “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers.  “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers.  “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders.  The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.  

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic.  “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables.  Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.  

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her.  He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes.  Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation.  He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.  

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms.  When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.  

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours.  You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you.  There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines.  All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.  

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out.  “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know.  “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often.  Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd.  Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.  

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus.  Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.  

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom.  She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him.  “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated.  “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes.  “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him.  Not like it was with you.”  She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed.  “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.  

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do.  I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s.  She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up.  She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.  

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike.  “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.  

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them.  You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.  

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room.  Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing. 

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to.  You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.  

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music.  “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.  

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him.  His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering.  “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet.  You cleared your throat.  “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.  

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.    

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck.  “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you.  You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed.  “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar.  “Nothing happened, I’m fine.  I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.  

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble.  Just ignore him.  Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?”  His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie.  Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts.  You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough.  Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last.  Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize. 

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks.  “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started.  “And he said he might get up here for a song or two.  What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air.  Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage.  The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting.  Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye. 

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.  

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.  

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe.  He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her.  He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.  

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch.  He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was.  He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.  

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good.  He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.  

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred.  She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering.  When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage.  He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.  

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up.  He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up.  He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.  

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out.  She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.  

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed.  “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube.  “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips.  “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again.  I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh.  “Let’s just call it a…parting gift.  A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door.  “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand.  “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused. 

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back.  “But I can try to make it up to you.  To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug.  “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle.  “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke.  You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance.  “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.  

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake.  She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic. 

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again.  The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out.  You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands.  When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.  

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there.  He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.  

And he was all yours.  

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt.  You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing. 

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies.  “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you.  A table full of jarheads just showed up.” 

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic.  You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.  

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer.  Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.  

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table.  “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.” 

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt.  “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.  

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off.  There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up.  The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out. 

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.  

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze.  A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle.  You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.  

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?”  You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago.  The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them.  They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots. 

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his.  His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead.  He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.  

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.  

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.  

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.  

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back.  You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down.  When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together.  “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.  

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet.  His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not.  The table fell silent for a beat.  “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around.  Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass.  “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good,  I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing.  He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips.  “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Eddie look out!” You shouted.  The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was.  Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss.  Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol.  Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.  

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos. 

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist.  The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.  

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue.  “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected.  Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.  

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside.  Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.    

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.  

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach.  Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.  Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.  

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance.  You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.  

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly.  “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark.  His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm.  “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.  

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face.  “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed.  “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out.  A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.  

They were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.  

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face.  “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you.  “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter.  “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

-----

Love love you all for cheering this story on, hope you enjoyed this one. Your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated and cherished.

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[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he’s in love he doesn’t believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. A/N: Meet the Family plus one that isn't really nice. I finally caved and was kind to Buggy when it comes to romancing Sunny. End of the chapter mentions sexy times but nothing graphic at all. I just realized maybe I should take pity on the fool.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 16

Buggy couldn't fathom the amount of cousins you had.

They were broken into four age groups apparently. The 18 and older, the 12 year olds to 17 year olds, the 6 to 11, and the babies to 5 year olds.

The five and under thought Buggy was so cool and wanted to touch his face, hair, ask if he knew tricks since he looked like a clown, and when he resorted using his Devil Fruit to pick a grabby three year old up and hand the child to you, they thought he was even cooler.

The 6 and 11 age group felt they were too old for clowns and weren't really impressed that he was a pirate captain, but when he used his abilities to get their kites out of the branches of a tree and even some toys that ended up on the roof, they decided he was okay.

The older two groups mostly judged him because he was marrying their favorite cousin (you were somehow everyone's favorite in the family and Buggy fully supported that). Some of the male cousins tried to give Buggy the whole “you hurt her you die” talk but he wasn't actually intimidated by that at all for once. Found it to be more annoying than anything.

He would never hurt you in any way.

The female cousins thought you could do better, honestly, though they did ask what his hair care routine was when they saw how long and wavy it was (Buggy refused to tell).

All in all, meeting the cousins went better than expected.

He still had to meet your aunts and uncles. You told him it should be a little less stressful than the cousins, but when your dad mentioned the hot spring that all the uncles would be going to with some drinks, he insisted Buggy come along. You weren't there to help so he had no choice but to go with Blue.

It… it was weird. Buggy somehow was surrounded by all of them, each staring at him as they enjoyed their drinks. He didn't even try to drink yet, too nervous watching and waiting for one of them to ask something but they just stared at him.

“So, our little Sunny is engaged to a pirate captain.” One of them finally said (Buggy couldn't even begin to remember names right then). Buggy could only nod, unsure if this would lead to additional questions or what.

“How long have you been a captain?”

“How long have you been a pirate?”

“You better take care of our niece or else.”

Almost the entire hour spent in the hot spring went like that. Buggy barely spoke despite being in the spotlight. Blue actually did most of the talking even though he really didn't know Buggy well, but it sounded like he asked Sunny similar questions and got some answers and well, Buggy appreciated it. He had no problem being front and center when he was on his ship but off it, surrounded by this family, he was out of his element and hating every second of it.

A tiny part of him was starting to regret agreeing to coming here with you so early into the engagement since that had become a focus of a lot of conversation, but when he headed back to the main house and saw you with your cousins, holding the ring up that he gave you with a big smile on your face, he realized he could tough it out. It had only been a few days so far.

“Buggy, follow me.” Blue said as he put his hand on the young pirate's shoulder and steered him into the house. “I don't know if my daughter told you, but after Windy and I got married, we became jewelers.”

“Huh…” Buggy only nodded, not sure why that mattered. He was led into a tiny workshop where Blue turned the lights on, giving Buggy a view of everything.

Various tools, materials, stones, everything you would need for that kind of business filled the space of the small room. The worktop has dents, scratches, some scorch marks, showing years of love and hard work. There was a bright red cloth with two rings resting on it. Buggy picked one up to look at it, almost dropping it when he saw a tiny little engraving of his jolly roger on it.

“What is this?!” Buggy demanded, wondering if Blue was copying his jolly roger for some reason.

“Well, after you two showed up and told us the happy news, I started working on wedding rings for you both.” He chuckled, suddenly looking nervous and uncomfortable. “My wife sketched out the designs and I've been working on them the last few days as a surprise, but I realize now that that's silly because you probably have something better for the two of you.”

No, no he didn't. Was Buggy supposed to? He figured the engagement ring would be enough but was having a separate ring for marriage a thing? He was also thrown off by the fact that these rings were made in such a short amount of time. It was thoughtful, touching, but Buggy didn't know what to make of it. He set the ring back down and looked up at the older man.

“We… have to have a ring for marriage?” That was the question on his mind. He didn't have rings yet, he only had the (stolen) engagement ring so hearing that there was also supposed to be a wedding ring on top of it was a little much.

To his relief, Blue just chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Only if you want! You're a pirate, I'm sure you have your own traditions anyway. I just wanted to give you a gift for taking such good care of Sunny this last year. I figure you're someone special by the way her eyes light up when she talks about you.”

Buggy scowled as his cheeks burned. That wasn't the case, you took care of him. He didn't do anything worthwhile to earn the love you have for him. Why would you tell your father something different? He didn't say anything, looking back down at the rings. They were a simple band, practical for working on a ship, but he wanted something a little more to it.

“If you already have something, I understand! I know this is a bit sudden.” Blue assured him. “And if you don't like them, I'm okay with that too!”

Buggy hesitated. It was thoughtful but it was missing something.

“No, they're… fine.” He told him, jaw clenched as he looked down at the rings. “Can you just add one thing?”

~

“Yea! We can have the wedding while the whole family is here!” 

Buggy spat out his drink while you choked on yours. Your mother's sister, the second oldest, heard that you wanted just your parents and someone to officiate and well, she didn't like that idea. She wanted to see her niece get married, why couldn't everyone enjoy it? 

“We'll find an officiant, we have the space to have your fiancee's crew join us so long as they behave and we can make the reception the big family dinner we always have!” Your aunt Stormy continued. Buggy was against the idea, was ready to say so, but you took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We just want to keep it small.” You told her, glancing over at Buggy. “The reception can be a party, but… we just want a small wedding.”

“Nonsense. You have a huge family, Sunny, and we want to see you get married.” Stormy said, shaking her head. “We won't take no for an answer.”

“‘We’?” You repeated.

“The rest of us aunts and uncles want to see you get married. It's not fair if we don't.” Stormy chuckled. “You're the first of the kids to get married, it's only right that the rest of us get to see it.” She glanced over at Buggy. “I imagine it will be quite a spectacle going by how your fiancee… is.”

“W-What-”

“I don't know what that's supposed to mean, Aunt Stormy, but the wedding will be small.” You told her, fixing your aunt with a look that told Buggy that the conversation was over. “Me, mom, dad, Buggy, and some of his crew. That's it.” You tightened your hold on Buggy's hand. “Please excuse us.”

You didn't wait and dragged Buggy away. He noticed you were tense after that, but you also jumped to his defense before your aunt could make any other jabs at him. Spectacle? What kind of spectacle was she expecting?

You dragged him into the house, relieved no one else was in there. Everyone was outside socializing. You took his glass and put it in the sink with yours, huffing in frustration. Buggy was both a little nervous but intrigued to see you frustrated, especially since it wasn't directed at him.

“Of course she would go against our wishes.” You muttered as you started washing the glasses. “Makes it all about herself. She just wants a reason to dress up and will end up making it about her. We are not having a big wedding. I don't want it.”

“Babe?” Buggy asked carefully. 

You looked up from what you were doing, frustration in your voice when you asked, “What?!”

“D’you want to… take a break and go to the ship?” He was hesitant to even suggest it, figuring you'd rather spend time with your family than with him, especially since you have spent so much time with him already. You stared at him in surprise and he started back pedaling immediately. “I mean, this is your family, and I know you want to spend time with them, so I shouldn't have even suggested that, babe. Forget it. We can stay. I don't need to go, y’know, I just wanted you to, uh, have…a break?”

“No, no, Buggy. That's a good idea.” You told him as you dried your hands. “We just have to sneak down to the water. Who knows what my aunt is saying about the wedding now.”

Oh, that was a good idea? He was pleased with himself, smirking at you as he leaned on the counter. “Yea? Maybe we come up with other good ideas while we have some alone time.”

You grinned and tossed the dish towel aside. “Oh, and what kind of good ideas do you want to come up with, Captain?”

“We’ll just have to see, won't we?” He looked quite proud of himself for being flirty without something happening to him for once. “I'm sure we'll come up with something, babe.”

~

Something was you and Buggy in bed, naked and tired, both of you not sure how long you were in there for, both too distracted by each other to really care about time anyway. You had initiated it after Buggy made some joke about getting naked and you didn't hesitate in stripping down in front of him, grinning at the blush on his face and how wide his eyes got up on seeing you naked for the first time.

Now he was a little hesitant. You had said you weren't disgusted by his body upon knowing of his Devil Fruit powers, how limbs and parts separated when he needed them to, but he suddenly felt a little self conscious, so you walked over to him and kissed him, pulling at his clothes to encourage him. He never did this before, you had said the same, but like everything with you, he wanted it to be perfect.

He knew what to do from stories he heard growing up from the Roger Pirates and you knew what you wanted from romance novels you used to read to pass the time at the shop. And while Buggy took charge, he listened when you gave him directions on where to touch, kiss, everything. Hearing how you moaned and whined, panting his name between little gasps spurned him to make sure you screamed his name in the end.

And he was impressed he managed to keep it together when he was finally inside you, holding back to keep from finishing too quickly. There would be other times, sure, but this was the first time for both of you, and you were letting him touch you, pleasure you, and he needed it to be perfect for you. He was so in love with you.

And after all that, he was in your arms, head on your chest as your fingertips stroked down his spine while he made himself comfortable. 

“We should probably make an appearance before they come looking for us.” You sighed, making no effort to move. “I just don't want to.”

“We can stay here. The crew won't let anyone onboard.” Buggy mumbled back, eyes closed as he sank into your arms.

“I would like that since the second my aunt sees me she'll want to talk about the wedding, which is the last thing I want to do with her.” You kissed the top of his head and closed your eyes. “It's kind of late, we can make an appearance tomorrow morning. I just want to spend time with you right now.”

“Yea?” He lifted his head up, eyes wide in surprise. “You’d rather spend more time with me?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him with a frown. “Of course I would. I love you, Buggy.” Touching his cheek, you gave him a kiss as he wrapped his arms around you. “I love spending time with you.”

“Your family-”

“Yea, I'll see them tomorrow. I want to spend time with you right now.” You assured him. “Get some rest, honey.”

He nodded, settling back down with his head tucked under your chin, closing his eyes as you pulled the covers up over the two of you. He was more than happy to be in bed with you for the rest of the day, just spending time with you, not having to be surrounded by everyone else and their questions about himself and the wedding. 

Maybe Buggy could convince you to stay on the ship for the rest of the reunion.

[tryst-art-archive]

Context: 2008

Life in 2009 was very different than life in 2008 and before had been, so when we reach the end of the archive for '08, we'll becoming to the end of a chapter.

The key events of 2008 are below the cut, but this is perhaps the most critical element: I had no intention of living to be 18, and 2008 was the year I turned 17.

No Longer "an Artist"

After this year, The Hiatus begins. It wasn't a true hiatus in that I was still making things during that time, but I drew extremely little, and I stopped sharing things I made online. It's a period of time present day me regrets because I see how much progress I didn't get to make artistically and how much catching up I had to do when I returned to drawing almost ten years later.

In short: the building, depression-fueled lack of confidence that had been en route since '06 came home to roost in '08, and I decided that I would never be an artist--that I lacked adequate talent--and the things I drew were, instead, wholly in service to the things I wrote, just tools to develop narratives and characters and nothing more.

I was wrong, of course, and I regret the decision to deny myself illustration bitterly. On the other hand, turning away from drawing as I did renewed an interest in photography I'd had as an elementary schooler and freed up time to work on my writing craft. With every bad, there is some good, and vice versa.

Life in 2009 was very different than life in 2008 and before had been, so when we reach the end of the archive for '08, we'll becoming to the end of a chapter.

The key events of 2008 are below the cut.

Persona 3 & Self-Actualization

I credit Persona 3 with my survival through this year, and I think there were two components to that.

The first was that I interpreted the game's messaging around death and suicide through the lens of a power fantasy. Essentially, I saw the characters' willingness to kill themselves as the unique strength that enabled them to save the world, and I extrapolated that my willingness to die could also be a super power. In a roundabout way, this gave me a sense of being valuable, which was not something I saw myself as natively.

The second was that I had my first encounter with a form of masculinity that spoke to me. The personality of the game's protagonist is largely determined by the player, but there are some things innately true of him, and one is that he's a stylish, slim young man whom other characters in the game describe as a "girly boy" or a "pretty boy" on more than one occasion.

I became completely obsessed with him. I desperately wanted to be him, although at the time I didn't fully realize that. I presumed that I was attracted to him and that my attempts to emulate him were, in some way, an expression of that attraction. In hindsight, it's very, very obvious that the emulation was the point. For example, I got my hair cut to match his and I was over the moon about it.

To contextualize why this character resonated so hard: I didn't have any real world models for the kind of masculinity he inhabits, which is also the kind of masculine I am. It simply didn't exist anywhere in my cultural environment, although it's fairly common in the media exports of Japan and South Korea. I'd been into anime for ages, and I'd been drawn to this form of masculinity all along, but inhabiting it directly, less as a character and more as myself, made an enormous difference.

You'll see the moment this switch flips by the arrival of my character Pupcat Riley. I based that character off the version of the P3 protag that I'd played, and a lot of the work I vividly remember from 2008 centered around him.

Relationship Upheaval

Over the course of the first half of the year, I became increasingly aware of and unable to deny that my friend with benefits, who happened to also be my best friend, had romantic feelings for me that I did not reciprocate.

My anxiety around that issue eventually led to me disappearing on them for a solid month, only to end the sexual arrangement on returning. The cut wasn't clean, but by the fall the arrangement was well and truly over, and we were still best friends.

My bestie graduated from high school and entered college in that same time span, and I sort of followed, spending a lot of time at their dorm, where I hung out with their new friends, one of whom I began dating. As neither my bestie nor I had had time to process my decision to conclude our arrangement, there was a weird tension between them and my freshly acquired boyfriend.

At the same time, I kept trying to find a way to make the fwb arrangement "not count" in my sexual/romantic history, as if I was running from it. Meanwhile, my bestie also began a new relationship. Awkwardly, the other girl involved also had had a thwarted crush on me.

As for my own new relationship, both my boyfriend and I had depression and (in my case totally unknown) ADHD, and while the ability to understand each other from that lens had been part of the appeal, in practice we worsened each others' symptoms. He was also completely convinced that it was inevitable that I would commit suicide--something he viewed with morose resignation--and while the insistence felt off to me, I didn't disagree; I had no intention of surviving to the next January, after all.

College

I didn't want to go to college, but I also had no intention of living long enough to have to. Therefore, I resentfully did college applications to avoid conflict, and I had the foresight to at least apply to places and programs that I wouldn't hate, if through some chance I wound up having to follow through.

But I didn't know what I wanted to do. I had never been able to imagine any kind of future for myself, so the idea of picking something to ostensibly do for the rest of my life was fundamentally absurd--doubly so considering I didn't mean to live much longer. I wound up trying to logic it out as the external pressure to do applications mounted.

The only things I liked enough to focus on for four solid years were art, writing, and biology. I ruled art out because I thought I wasn't good enough to even try. I ruled biology out because while the subject is endlessly fascinating, I didn't think there would be a job I'd be interested in. I never did research to confirm.

That left me with creative writing, which had the benefit that I felt I was innately good at it and could therefore succeed without trying at all--a pretty egotistical thing to think. I favored programs that had some real world application to them, as opposed to remaining solidly in theory territory, and that led me to apply to a program that included publishing as part of its curriculum.

Still, I didn't stress about applications or really get worried about responses. I wasn't going to be around for any of that to matter, so the only stress was getting myself to do a bunch of paperwork I had no interest in doing to appease my parents and teachers.

Suicide?

A weird thing about 2008 being the year I meant to die in is that I never made an actual attempt in the course of that year. I'd had my first near miss a couple of years prior--I nearly jumped in front of a car on my way home from the bus stop--but for whatever reason I didn't have a near miss in 2008. (Maybe I was just preoccupied enough?)

That isn't to say that the impulse to die wasn't as omnipresent as it had always been. I viewed January 2009 as a deadline, and the closer it drew the more anxious I became about not having offed myself yet. When I ultimately did not kill myself before my 18th birthday, I felt it as a personal and moral failure on my part. I saw myself as utterly pathetic, too cowardly to even die.

There would be other near misses in the future, but the idea that my survival was itself a sign of my worthlessness stuck with me for a long, long time.

[kenkamishiro]

Ishida’s Q&A comments from YJ compilation, Part 2

I feel like I’m getting a clue as to what inspired Ishida for Juuzou...

Now that my finals are over, I’m hoping to be able to put these out at a faster pace. For anyone who doesn’t know about the relevant Questions to Ishida contest, please read here.

The recent set of zakki:re and interview translations take a lot of time and effort, so if you enjoyed it please leave a like or reblog. Thank you!

2012 (cont.)

(Editor’s note: The Table of Contents (ToC) comments from 2011-12 consist of the answer to the question plus a brief statement of what’s happening in their lives.

No. 11

Sensei, please share with us any rare works (such as books, CD's, videos) that you possess and treasure!

The Darth Maul figure with the two broken legs. I’ll do something about it with some Aron Alpha.

What was that again? I think I still have it on display...

[T/N: Aron Alpha is an adhesive.]

No. 12

Do you have any “fanservice” you try to keep in mind?

Making my work a little bit better. I ate jambalaya for the first time, but I ended up not being able to figure out what kind of cuisine it was.

“Making my work a little bit better.”  Stop trying to pretend to look good.

No. 13

Do you have any music or movies that you turn on often at work?

I listen to all kinds of TV and radio, but by the end it becomes silent. The food in the neighbourhood izakaya was really delicious.

Wasn’t it ‘cause you couldn’t listen to music ‘cause you were exhausted?

No. 14

It’s moving season!! Please share with us an anecdote that’s related to moving!!

I have all kinds of anecdotes since my family moved around a lot. I felt lonely in kindergartens outside the country as I couldn’t understand the language.

I spent about a year and a half in Taiwan. I think it was because it was during kindergarten that the language barrier was so difficult for me to overcome.

No. 15

What place/region would you like to live in someday?

As a citizen of Fukuoka, I’d love to live somewhere in Meinohama. I’m happy that Volume 1 has finally been released.

Even though this is what I wrote, I didn’t realize it at the time. That I might not have felt it even once, the feeling of being happy that a volume was released.

No. 16

Do you have a habit you try to do?

Sometimes I go for a walk. I finally bought Skyrim. I’m looking forward to seeing how it’s different from Oblivion.

I think I prefer Oblivion, since Skyrim only takes place on a snowy mountain.

No. 17

What was the most terrifying experience you’ve ever had?

Starting my graduate research 2 weeks before the submission deadline...I made it in time, but I still have dreams about it.

I still have dreams about it to this day.

No. 18

It’s a bit out of style, but any foods or ways of eating you’ve gone crazy about recently!?

The best is to just eat normally. I went to see Kooza. I was so deeply moved that I teared up. It truly was the best.

It really was. Next time I’ll go and be late again.

No. 19

Please share with us your recommended spot for cherry blossom viewing.

I only know about Ohori Park...I went to go see Kooza again.

Come on, you ruined the mood.

No. 20

Share with us some smooth techniques for interpersonal relationships to kickstart the spring of encounters!

It’s not a technique, but I talk a lot to people who are friendly.

I try to meet people who catches my eye.

No. 21

What was your favourite snack when you were small?

Cabbage Taro. “G Senjou Heaven’s Door” by Nihonbashi Yoko was interesting.

So yummy.

No. 22-23

Golden Week soon, what place do you want to go to that everyone should visit once!?

I’d like to see Cirque du Soleil in Las Vegas.

Cirque du Soleil Boom is coming here.

No. 24

If you were to name a kanji character you like?

“Intuition”. Because I’m doing all kinds of things with my intuition. I bought “The Great Passage”. I’m looking forward to reading it.

Now it would be “muscle”. Because I’m doing all kinds of things with my muscles.

[T/N: “The Great Passage” is the English title for the novel “Fune wo Amu” by Miura Shion which was made into a TV drama and an anime.]

No. 25

Open rush of new landmarks! Please tell us about your own hidden sights!!

For me, a delicious izakaya in my neighbourhood. I watched “Confessions”. It was interesting.

I’ve come to know a lot when it comes to the bars in Fukuoka.

No. 26

Which Japanese person (including groups and companies) do you pay the most attention to now?

The actor Kubota Masataka. If not Japanese, then Jonte’ Moaning.

See, see? I did say it.

No. 27

Please share with us a character you have “loved” for the first time!!

San from Princess Mononoke. Darth Maul if we’re talking about 3-D figures.

San, huh.

No. 28

Do you have any memories that make you blush when you remember it even to this day?

I guess when I was late for the monthly award ceremony...Because I stayed up all night until dawn, none of the food passed through me.

Nah, you enjoyed it.

No. 29

What appliance or electronic device do you currently want the most?

I want an iPhone soon. I went to my friend’s wedding. May the Murata’s be happy.

That was the first time in my life I was called to a wedding. I haven’t been to another wedding since.

No. 30

Tell us something crazy you did back then, that when you remember it leaves you feeling cold and sweaty!

At the start of my series when I was working with a single assistant for some time. I bought an iPhone. I’m slow at inputting the characters.

Far better than having no assistant.

No. 31

It’s easy for stress to pile up during the rainy season since you can’t go out, so where do you go to release that stress!?

I let it pile up. I’ve begun working at the official workplace. I still only have a desk and a PC.

Don’t let it pile up! You’re gonna have a hard time later...

previous || next

[spicysoftsweet]

summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?”  You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.  

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 6

Word Count: 3,753

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 6/?

Warnings: mentions of murder, arson, and blood

A/N: The ending is dark, y'all, dark. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 6

I followed my father inside the house, my hands trembling and sweating. The only topic I believed they would seriously need to talk to me about was the supernatural and the family business. Just as I had told Derek, if I hadn’t met him and Scott, I would have probably joined without a second thought. But I had met them, I had been embraced by them, and I didn’t know what I was going to answer.

I sat across from my parents on the kitchen’s island. They seemed excited, but a bit anxious. Obviously, revealing to your daughter the existence of supernatural beings and the fact that the whole family hunted them wasn’t an easy task. At least, she already knew the most hard-hitting information and she wouldn’t feel blindsided.

“Honey, what we have to tell you is very important, and we don’t want you to feel like we have been keeping this from you on purpose,” my mother started. “But you need to understand that everything we have to say today is nothing but the truth. Okay?”

“Guys, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“You know that all Argents work at the family company, Argent Arms International, and that at some point you’d probably end up working there.”

“Yeah, dad. The reason I know too much about weapons,” I laughed. I couldn’t let on that I knew more than they thought.

“Well, the company is actually a front for the real work we do behind the scenes, and the reason we’re on the road a lot,” my father started. “Since the start of our lineage Argents have been hunters.”

“Hunters of what?”

“Now, I need you to remember that what I am about to tell you is the full honest truth.” I nodded. “We hunt supernatural creatures, but mainly werewolves. You remember the tattoo I have on my arm that you asked about when you were younger?”

“Yeah, ‘Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent’. French, we hunt those who hunt us. I always thought it was more of a psychological phrase.”

“That’s our family mantra. All Argent generations have been trained since childhood to become hunters one day, Chris and I were the only ones that decided to give you and Allison the choice once you became teenagers to know about our world. It’s completely up to you to join us.”

“So, all the training, physical and with weapons, was all in preparation for this?” My father nodded. I could see the worry in his face of how I would take this news – a one-worded answer was going to shift my whole life. It was one thing to be knowledgeable of this life, it was another to be in the center of all of it.

“We run by a code,” my father explained. “We only hunt those who have been proven to have harmed innocent lives – only adults, no young ones, and no humans. Any hunter that breaks that code is an enemy to our cause.”

“Is that what aunt Kate did?” I spoke in a hushed tone knowing this was a difficult topic for my father, one that we hadn’t touched upon in the time we had been here.

“Yes, it is” my mother answered. Her dislike towards her sister-in-law wasn’t a secret. Mom had always thought of her as arrogant and self-centered – or so she would state when in an alcohol-induced rant.

“Unfortunately, my sister did break the code, but that’s beside the point,” dad interjected. “Sweetheart, we make sure that everyone around us is protected from the creatures that are unknown. So, what do you think? Do you want to join us?”

They both studied my face, waiting on any reaction that could arise from me. All I could think is how my decision could affect the people that had made their way into my life. Allison had accepted, and although her relationship with Scott was strained, she still managed to keep him close. But what if I accepted and all it did was deteriorate all the new relationship I was trying to build?

“Yes.”

After the conversation, my father warned me that training would start soon, after I passed some sort of test. They were happy that I had agreed to join the family trade, but I noticed a sign of worry in my father’s eyes. His whole life had been built around supernatural hunting, so what was he worried about? Whatever it was, he did not express. They had both been called away on a meeting and excused themselves before leaving. With the house to myself, I basked in my decision sitting on the living room couch, petting Brody.

“What do you think, bub? Did I make the right choice?” Brody looked up at me, his tongue hanging out, a smile on his face. A bark came after and I took it as confirmation that I had. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll see, huh? Should I call Derek and tell him?”

At the sound of Derek’s name, Brody barked out happily. I laughed at his reaction and decided to call Derek. It still surprised me that Brody had taken to Derek so quickly – probably had to do with him being a werewolf and an alpha. I clicked on his contact on my phone and waited on speaker for him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice rang out, exciting Brody once more. “Hey, buddy!”

“He’s been very excited to hear from you.”

“I can see,” he chuckled. “I can assume you made it home safely?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What’s wrong? You sound weird.”

“How can you possibly deduct my tone from over the phone?”

“Intuition, you could say. But seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, my parents talked to me about the family business,” I breathed out, nerves building up inside. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, and I hope my decision wouldn’t push him away. “They asked me to join them.”

“And what did you say?” He already knew the answer. Asking was just courtesy.

“I said yes.” He kept quiet for a second, and I truly believed I had ruined our relationship before anything had ever started. “Are you mad?”

“I can’t be mad. I understand why you did it, they’re your family. Why would you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna be actively working on hunting you and your kind, that would put a strain on any kind of relationship.”

“And what kind of relationship would that be?” He teased.

“Derek, this is serious. What kind of relationship could we have when we’re born enemies?”

“Allison and Scott seem to make it work. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.”

“So, sneaking around, worrying every second that we’d be found out by hunters. Seems viable,” I snickered. “And in no way, shape, or form stressful. Believe me, Derek, I have enough anxiety as it is. I don’t need the stress of keeping all my relationships secret.”

“Do you have any other choice?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“The way I see it, (Y/N), is you can use this opportunity and work for both sides. You can protect us from the inside, and hunt those that are a real threat. Like the Kanima,” he stated. It made sense to work with my family to protect my friends, even if my family was hunting them. “And, as much as I hate saying this, you should talk to Allison about this. She seems to be handling this way better than I thought.”

“I will. Thanks, Derek. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Sleep well, (Y/N).”

“You too, Derek.”

I hung up the phone and breathed out. My life had turned a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined, and I was sure it was going to turn a lot worse. I had just started dipping my toes in the supernatural pot we were living in, something told me that there was still so much that I didn’t know. And there was one person I knew would have the answers I was seeking.

I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and got on my motorcycle, a clear route ingrained in my brain. The night was cold, and the breeze nipped at my skin as it blew under my shirt. There was so much I had to learn, and so little time.

The drive wasn’t long, and I was still surprised I remembered the way.

The lights in the McCall house were off, but the car was in front, so I assumed Scott was home. I would have gone to Allison, but I needed to know everything, and I was sure she would try to protect me from the worst of it. Scott seemed like someone I could trust, and being at the center of everything gave him a lot more insight that I could use. I looked around the house and, remembering which room was his, found a way to climb up the side to his window. Hopefully, I didn’t encounter something I didn’t want to see.

Looking away, I knocked on his window – loud enough for him to hear, but silent enough to not alarm his mom. I clutched my jacket tighter as I waited for an answer, the wind finding me easier on higher ground. It didn’t take long for the window to slid open, revealing a very confused Scott.

“(Y/N)?” He rubbed sleep off his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped aside and let me through. His room was messier than the last time I had seen it, and the bed was disheveled. On his desk, his computer was propped open, and a disarray of papers lived atop the wooden surface.

“Sorry for waking you, but this couldn’t wait.”

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he chuckled. A lopsided smile taking place on his face. “So, what’s up?”

“Tonight, I was asked by my parents to join the hunters, and I agreed. But, going into this, I’m the one that knows the least about this world. Apart from Lydia, that is. I need to know everything you know about what we are up against. I don’t think our parents would have asked Allison and me to join now unless we were facing something truly dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you asking me and not Allison or even Derek? It seems like they would be the natural choice to ask about this.”

“Because they would try to shield me from the most dangerous aspects of what’s happening. Hopefully, you being a third party you’ll be truly honest about the situation we are in.” My tone came out friendly, but the underlying threat was evidently laced with it.

“Alright, where do you want me to start?”

“I want to know everything. No detail left out.”

“For me, this all started last year…”

And everything I learned. Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle, who was alpha at the time. Most of last year he spent learning about his new werewolf life, which he believed he was alone in, until Derek, who came from a long line of werewolves that resided in Beacon Hills. The very same family my aunt had murdered. When he explained that part of Derek’s history, I couldn’t help but tear up. How could he ever stand being near me when my own blood had done that to him? Ripped him from his family in such a horrifying manner. I knew she had killed people but knowing that Derek was one of the survivors made my stomach knot.

He also told me how Derek came to be the alpha, and how Peter had held the alpha title also. And how my aunt had truly died. Everyone’s stories seemed to bundle into the same mess of supernatural chaos.

“Then, Jackson asked for the bite, which Derek gave him. And the thing about the bite, you sometimes turn into something other than a werewolf due to internal issues you could say. So, he became the Kanima, which is a lizard type-creature that looks for a master as we just recently learned. His main objective is to do as his master commands, and in his case, it's killing a bunch of people. He also secretes a venom that paralyzes people, but it didn’t work on you and Lydia.” Me? “Which was really weird – Lydia, we think it has something to do with Peter biting her. But you, we’re not sure. Because there’s no indication as to why you could possibly be immune. Unless you’re not human, but that would mean that Lydia’s not human either, and that doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, Scott. You’re rambling,” I chuckled dryly, stopping him in his track. How he talked for so long, I did not understand. I believed Stiles was the only one with that ability. “How could you know that I was immune though? I haven’t had any contact with the Kanima or this venom.”

“Well, actually, the day we were making rock crystals in lab, Isaac had left some venom on Lydia’s crystal. You weren’t supposed to taste it, but it was a surprise when nothing happened to you. Have you ever been in contact with any other supernatural beings?”

“Seeing as I didn’t even know my parents were hunters, it’s safe to assume I haven’t. But I think finding out why I am the way I am is at the bottom of the list with this Kanima going around.”

“Yeah, and your family is making it very hard to do so when they’re actively hunting us.”

“They can’t be, they run by a code, and you guys are innocent.”

“But your grandfather doesn’t care. He lifted the code. He’s on a rampage towards all supernatural creatures, us included. They’re even keeping an eye on us at school – with Gerard running it and Victoria being our new teacher.”

“But we have the upper hand in learning about the Kanima, right? I mean, if my family is actively recruiting the younger ones, it means they are up against a threat they don’t know about, and we have the bestiary translated.”

“Kind of. I just have a feeling Gerard knows a lot more than he lets on.”

“Can’t really give insight on a person I don’t know. But anything I find out I’ll be sure to pass it along,” I smiled. “I still can’t believe all of this was happening right under my nose. How did I not notice?”

“It’s easy to ignore when you don’t know it exists. If I hadn’t been in the forest that night, I would be as in the dark as you were.”

“I guess so,” I smiled. “Thank you, Scott. For your honesty, and for trusting me with this information.”

“You’re one of us now, (Y/N). We look out for our own.”

“Thank you, Scott. I’ll leave you now to hopefully catch up on some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Of course, (Y/N). We’re gonna meet up with Allison in the library to talk about the Kanima. I think it’d be good for you to be there.”

“I will.” My body was outside the house, squatting in front of the window. “Again, thanks, Scott. It’s good to know I have a friend looking out for us.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He smiled, scratching his neck trying to hide the blush that had crept to his face. “Get home safe.”

I felt uneasy the whole ride back home. I truly couldn’t fathom how Derek old even spend a second with me after everything my family had put him through. My stomach hadn’t stopped turning, and I felt like I could throw up at any second. He didn’t deserve to have to look at a person that resembled the person that had screwed up his life. The tears started streaming from my eyes before I could stop them. It didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t right.

Somehow I made it back home. I had blacked out at some point and was moving out of muscle memory. I was glad my parents had not made it back home yet — I could let tears cascade without having to hide them. Allison and I had always looked up to our aunt. To us, she presented herself as a confident, independent, and badass woman. I still remember how one Christmas Allison and I had gotten into her clothes and pretended to be her. When Kate found us, she couldn’t help but laugh at the two little irks in front of her. She questioned what we were doing and we told her we wanted to be just like her. I recalled how I told her I wanted to grow up to be her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to take that back. Had I know back then what I knew now, I would have stayed as far away from her.

“This family is all types of messed up. Huh, Brody?” My dog looked up at me, a questioning glance on his face. “What am I gonna do, bub? I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him. I really don’t.”

Brody barked, leaving kisses on my cheeks — a nimble approach to getting rid of my tears. I snuggled closer to him, enjoying his comforting presence. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep well tonight.

I was standing in the middle of Derek’s family home, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the clouds. It was a cold night, and the low temperature was seeping into my bones. My whole body ached and the air smelled of soot. I felt uneasy standing there. Now knowing its history, my heart clenched tightly. I could only imagine the pain that had ensued in what I presumed was an agonizingly slow death. The tears that escaped from my eyes burned into my skin, and my ears rang with an unknown high pitch. I kneeled on the floor, and attempt to catch m breath.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” I stood up, the unknown voice startling me. “The smell is the worst part.”

“Aunt Kate.”

“The screams weren’t that bad,” she chuckled. “They died down quickly. There’s so much screaming you can do when smoke fills your lungs.”

“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please.”

“I can just imagine them thinking it was a normal afternoon, and then the fire starts. You know, wooden houses are a very good catalyst to speed up a fire.”

“Stop.”

“(Y/N), come on.” Kate was grinning, a sinister smile that would have anyone shivering. “It’s only a matter of time before you do something similar. You and I have always been the most alike — centered, strong, morally grey. It’s in your blood, baby girl. At first, you’re gonna believe you’re on their side, but soon you’ll see that they’re all bad. Sooner or later they all spill innocent blood. It’s better to get them when they’re fresh, it’s so much easier”

“How can you talk like that? These are people’s lives you are talking about.”

“It’s different, sweetheart. They’re not normal, they’re a living abomination,” she rationalized. “This is all a game of power. We can’t allow them to have the upper hand. If we let that happen, they’ll overtake us, and there is a natural order to things.”

“Is that why you murdered a whole family of innocent beings? The family of a kid you tricked to fall for you, leaving him alone to suffer!” I yelled, the loudness hurting my throat. “You tricked Derek and used him to end his line. Why?”

“A pack is only as strong as its number. The bigger they are, the stronger they are. I was just doing my job,” she grinned. “Just like you did.”

“What are you talking about? I would never do something as heartless as you have.”

“Are you sure, honey? Why don’t you walk through that door and say that again.”

I stared at her like a deer stuck in headlights. My body shook as I slowly made my way to the dark front door of the house. Her eyes burned into every step I took, the sinus eerie grin still prominent on her face. With every step, her stare edging me on forward. There was a scene to unfold behind that door, and she was eager for me to see it.

I stretched my hand towards the doorknob but flinched when I felt the burning temperature it held. Kate said nothing as she encouraged me to open the door, daring me to face whatever I had to with just her gaze. I braced myself for the feeling and clasped my hand around the knob, turning it to reveal whatever it was that she wanted me to see.

The scene in front of me was heartbreaking. We now stood in front of Derek’s apartment complex, his loft lit aflame. The smell of ash was more prominent and the heat was almost unbearable. I tried to run into the building, the need to help any survivors growing in me. But Kate held me back, a painful grip holding onto my arm.

“Let me go!” I yelled through tears. “I need to save my friends.”

“Darling, don’t you get it?” She chuckled. “They’re all gone. All thanks to you. Look at your hands, honey.”

I did as she told, and my breath hitched in my throat when I did. My clothes were drenched in blood, and in my hands, I carried a bloody knife and a lighter. “No, I would never do this.”

“You already did.” She pointed forward, fixing my sight on the bodies that laid on the floor of the lot. “And some of them were innocent, too. But in war, there are always casualties. I mean, your cousin sided with them, and look how she ended up.”

I walked around the bodies, trying to find a sign of life in any of them as a flood of tears streamed out of my ducts.

Scott.

Stiles.

Lydia.

Isaac.

Allison.

Even Boyd and Erica were there.

But I didn’t see one important person. “Where’s Derek?” My voice croaked, barely the volume of a whisper.

“Who do you think is inside the building? It’s a fitting end for him. Dying in the way he shucked have years ago,” she laughed maniacally. “At least he’ll relate to his family when he gets to the other side.

“NO!” Once again I tried to run into the building, needing to risk my ice to save his. But she stopped name in my tracks once more, her grip tightening. “Let me go, please. Just let me go, I have to save him.”

“Honey, he’s already gone,” she scoffed. “Don’t you get it, sweetheart? There are only two ways this will end — it’s either you or them. And the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be; you are just like me.”

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower

[solarwonux]

24H || Seuncheol 

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo​ for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested. 

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at. 

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on. 

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains. 

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take. 

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine. 

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again. 

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop.  “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?” 

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito. 

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day. 

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.” 

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger. 

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs. 

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved. 

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over. 

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.” 

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing. 

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life. 

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it. 

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white. 

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined. 

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.” 

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him. 

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself. 

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently. 

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?” 

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for. 

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.” 

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid. 

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind. 

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t. 

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder. 

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again. 

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either. 

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning. 

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love. 

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him. 

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs. 

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other. 

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him. 

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from. 

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less. 

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms. 

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side. 

She left and he had given up love for good. 

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua. 

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where  he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores. 

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late. 

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again. 

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life. 

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise. 

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall. 

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone. 

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him. 

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home. 

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace. 

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce. 

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was. 

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet. 

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover. 

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do. 

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness. 

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride. 

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years. 

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more. 

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out. 

“Just come after work...it’s important.” 

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life. 

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas. 

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down. 

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.” 

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back. 

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes. 

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams. 

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground. 

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light. 

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do. 

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt. 

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years. 

“It’s okay, I am here.” 

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Three

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Author’s Note: I decided that this fic trilogy occurs a year after the season one final, making Julie and Y/N almost (or already) 17. Also… this part turned out waaay longer than expected. Which is why there is going to be a fourth part because I have one last idea but didn’t want to rush to write it. And to think this all started because of a rushed (haha) 1k Oneshot. I should really start to write more spontaneously, it seems like good things come out of it. Anyway, Enjoy! :D

Songs mentioned in this chapter (in this order): Now or Never & Wake Up by JaTP | Don't Stop Me Now by Queen | Rude by MAGIC! | Don’t Laugh At Me by Mark Wills | Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing by Tori Kelly | Still Learning by Halsey | Ayo Technology by 50 Cent | My version of My Name Is Luke by Trevor Wilson | Let’s Forget About It by Lisa Loeb | Let's Just Get Naked Lyrics by Joan Osborne | Hey by Pixies

word count: ~ 3.9k

summary: Even after meeting the boys they still aren’t tired of helping you out and they each have their own little ways to do it.

warnings:  // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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Knowing that ghosts existed was an absurd feeling (even though you had always believed or hoped that there was more out there than just this world, especially with all those planets that had been discovered by NASA), but knowing that there were three certain ghosts that liked you enough to kindly haunt you, well… that was just plain unimaginable somehow. Yet, still less anxiety awakening than you expected. 

After Julie let you meet the guys for the first time you thought you were prepared to accept that you would not be able to talk to them unless they played something (after all, you had Flynn to groan about that), but the occasional giggle from Julie and her glances into nothing still sent chills down your spine.

So you started to always look around very suspiciously whenever you were over at her house and make obscene hand movements just to be sure that the boys would move before you walked somewhere or sat down (which just earned chuckles from Flynn and annoyed sighs from Julie - “Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they can’t see you. They know where you are, so please stop, or else my dad will call your parents and send you to Dr Turner as well.” The boys found it hilarious and liked to imitate you whenever they came too close to you.) 

The boys also still kept doing little things for you, just not so in secret anymore (though… Reggie was never one for subtlety). Whenever you seemed to have had a bad day (or whenever they just wanted to make you smile) you knew you could count on them having something prepared for you. 

You soon discovered that anything related to food (which sometimes were extremely odd and bizarre combinations) was Luke’s doing (except for pizza and meatballs, according to Julie that was always Reggie). And you knew it was Alex whenever it was something more calm and soothing, yet sometimes a little bit clumsy. And whenever it was blatantly obvious and/or slightly weird (in a good way!) it was Reggie. 

Well, no. Not always in a good way. One time you came back from school and your whole room was filled with glitter and butterflies and a small note with a little ‘Sorry!’ on it was pinned to your desk - cleaning that had been a pain in the a-. But you couldn’t be angry at Reggie, even though you weren’t quite sure what his ultimate goal would have been. 

Speaking of REGGIE...

All those helpful little deeds and nice gestures were always done within the limits of your house (mostly room) or Julie’s house and the studio, which is why you almost let out a loud yelp when suddenly during a math test your pen started to move on his own, filling out the empty space (because yes, you hadn’t been doing very much other than staring helplessly at the paper in front of you). Quickly you grabbed the pen as well (loosely and while trying to ignore the fact that you were practically holding hands with one of the guys) so that nobody would see a floating pen as you did a few weeks ago at Christmas.

From the corners of your eyes, you saw Julie slightly move her head towards you, as if she was listening to you - or rather someone right beside or behind you. ‘Of course. I can’t see them, so the only way to help me is by physically grabbing the pen, but Julie can hear and see them, so they (whoever this is - because let’s be honest, none of the guys really looks like a math genius) only have to tell her the corrects solutions and how to get there. My money’s on Alex.’

You were kind of shocked, and weirdly proud when Julie came up to you after class and said: “Reggie’s not so questionable after all, huh?” (Though… you should’ve guessed it, you did say subtlety wasn’t Reggie’s strong suit.) So you just giggled and shook your head while leaving some of your books in your locker (alongside the fact that Reggie was probably almost (if not!) hugging you from behind - you shuddered at that thought, it’s not like you were already awkward around living boys your age, no need to add ghosts to that list!)

A week later you and Julie entered the studio with blank faces and hanging shoulders. Julie threw a weak little wave towards the piano and sighed while you threw the blankets and snacks you were holding carelessly on the ground and let yourself fall face-first onto the couch, not being able to hide your smile anymore.

“We got our math exams back… yes the one Reggie helped us with.”

You couldn’t see what Julie was doing, but you heard her gasp and whisper “No! Reggie…” after a while. Then she was standing beside you, nudging your shoulder and willing you to sit up, but you didn’t bulge, needing a few more seconds to wipe the smile off your face again.

Faking to disgruntledly accept defeat as Julie’s nudges got stronger (the couch was really comfortable, you totally understood Luke now) you sat up and looked at Julie. “Who’s going to tell them?” you said with a heavy voice and felt how the couch dipped beside you. Raising your eyebrows you quickly glanced to the side (obviously not seeing anybody or anything) and looked back at Julie questioningly. 

She nodded, telling you that it was indeed Reggie and gave you the okay to drop the bomb.

You sighed as you turned back around, facing the wall on the other side of the studio and hoped that Reggie would ignore the fact that you were probably talking to his ear or something. “So Reggie… the help you gave us on the math final? Well…,” you couldn’t keep your face straight any longer and jumped onto the couch, “WE ACED IT! I WOULD HUG YOU IF YOU WEREN’T MADE OUT OF CUTE AIR!” (Okay… maybe there was a little bit too much serotonin involved.)

Julie added smiling, “And I’m happy to announce that due to my good grades my father allowed Julie and The Phantoms to play at the upcoming Summer Music Festival!”

A guitar riff filled the studio, followed by a short drum intro and with a ‘puff!’ the boys appeared in front of you, beaming and glowing at the news. Reggie even threw a wink at you when you smiled back and said: “Thank you!”

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!

This allowed LUKE…

The music festival was an experience you would never forget. You were very happy Ray managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany Julie (sadly Flynn had no such luck). Not only did you turn 17 and the boys made sure to have the whole crowd sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you (as soon as you were back home you would add an extra point to your to-do: ‘find out how to kill ghosts a second time’), but the boys rocked the stage and Julie stood up taller and shined brighter than ever before. 

Gone (yet not forgotten) were the painful shocks and the fear of never performing again and the serenity of the guys was visible. 

It was the last night of the music festival when Julie got the phone call from her father. He would come by to get her the next morning and they would drive directly to visit other family members and spend the rest of the summer holidays there. 

Of course, Julie was excited to see her cousins and aunts and uncles again, but she also felt bad to leave you to drive back alone (you had come with your car jam-packed with all the necessary equipment you needed and that wasn’t provided by the festival).

“Don’t worry! It’s only a four-hour drive! I’ve got good music, podcasts and audiobooks to keep me company and back home Flynn will be waiting. It sadly looks like I’m going to survive without you.” 

Early the next morning Julie and some newfound fans of Julie and The Phantoms helped you load the equipment into your car and you said goodbye to Julie. Expecting the boys to just directly puff back to Los Feliz you didn’t waste any time and entered your car, connected your phone with the stereo and started to blast your favourite Broadway musicals.

You must’ve been on the road for half an hour when suddenly the playlist stopped and ‘Wake Up’ started to play.

So wake that spirit, spirit!

Confused you scrunched up your nose and touched the touch screen displaying the music system, trying to change it back to your playlist. But instead, the music changed yet again.

(Don't stop me now) 'Cause I'm having a good time (Don't stop me now) Yes, I'm havin' a good time I don't want to stop at all

“What the hell?” you muttered, staring at your stereo for a quick second before focusing back on the road, “Why you always going crazy on me dude?”

Once again the music switched.

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too?

It took you a hot minute to understand what was going on and then you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Don't laugh at me, don't call me names Don't get your pleasure from my pain

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said mockingly, looking at the empty passenger seat, guessing that that’s where your invisible friend was sitting. “Your pain? I’m not the one who is able to puff wherever and whenever their heart desires and who sneaks up on innocent people.”

Silence. 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not like you choose this life, you deserved better than this. But I’m really glad I was able to get to know you. I’m really thankful for the light and happiness you brought back into Julie’s life.”

Don't you worry 'bout a thing

But I'm still learnin' to

using technology

You laughed. “Impressive skills nevertheless. Knowing three fitting songs and then changing them at the right time? Let me guess, Luke? Because I don’t think all of you three would fit into my tiny car full of musical equipment.”

At first, there was no music yet again, but then the slow melody of a (for you) well-known song flooded your car. It was the one Trevor Wilson song you never understood until you met the boys, the one song that was so totally different to his usual rock sound (except for the refrains, which, as you later would find out, were parts of the original lyrics Luke wrote for his version of the song).

I sing to remember the stories that used to be But I don’t write to create what could have been And as I scream words into the darkness around me They come out like a dying whisper

The kindest thing to do is to silence them and let them die To unleash my heartfelt sorrow into the sky  And diminish the will to fight That pulses like fire and screams with pain through my veins

But life’s not always beautiful, it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a breeze when he’s a hurricane Don’t call him a tremble when he’s an earthquake Don’t call him an inconvenience Please just say his name

Leaving lyrics in my hands That I swallow like pills Like hurtful words, they rip and claw And press painfully against my chest

But no matter how painful they are I will soak them up, thinking of our hopes and wishes And as each word pushes a new pulse through my veins I keep staring out on the grave of our shared space of mind

Life’s not always beautiful, but it’s rare So I’mma chase it, watch you make it

Don’t need to introduce himself You will want to know his name Pushing your foundations down  He is here to stay

Don’t call him a spark when he’s a lightning bolt Don’t call him a flicker when he’s a raging flame Don’t you dare to underestimate him Please just say his name

But even when the word flood finally comes to an end Fidgeting hands remind me of music never played

I owe him my voice I owe him my sound

So I give him this time I give him this space To sing it out loud To let him declare And let me be proud

What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!) What’s his name? (His name is Luke!)

How long do we say his name? (Until we explode!)

My name is Luke! (Tell your friends!)

Tears were rolling down your cheeks, the song now more emotional than ever before. You couldn’t imagine how this song must affect Luke. Thinking that his bandmate abandoned him (which honestly… he kind of did, only mentioning him in one song, not giving any money to their parents and so on) up until he heard the song for the first time.

“Luke…”

Forget about it Let's forget about it

The ensuing silence wasn’t awkward. You hummed along to the music Luke selected, sometimes it were old classics (probably his favourites), other times it seemed to be random newer hits he probably never heard before mixed with some songs from your favourite playlists.

It was nearing midday and your stomach made itself known. As if on cue a road sign hinted at a diner just up ahead. Setting the blinker you pulled into the parking lot a few moments later.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know home’s only like an hour away, but...” you began to trail off, not knowing where to look at and your stomach finished your sentence. And before you were able to grab the door handle it sprung wide open. 

“Uh, what a gentleman. Thank you very much.”

The meal was over in a flash and once more you realised how much the boys actually knew about you without having actually interacted with you (perks of seeing other people without being seen themselves?). 

It’s like Luke could read your wishes just from your facial expressions. Whenever you needed salt or pepper they were right there. Whenever something was too salty or had too much pepper on your drink was being pushed closer to your side. And when you accidentally spilt something and needed more napkins they magically appeared.

When you then spotted a cute little guitar keychain that reminded you of Luke that was being sold as a souvenir at the check-out it was suddenly safely tucked into your back pocket (though that was really really risky, and while you did not condone it you couldn’t really stop a ghost).

Back in your car, you didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo, knowing that Luke would take over as soon as your hands were on the steering wheel again. 

However, a glance to your right presented you with a map of your surroundings, a big x hastily drawn over the Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino, which was basically just around the corner.

“You want to go swimming? We- I just ate! And my bathing suit is somewhere under that mountain of equipment on the backseat.”

Let's just get naked, just for a laugh Let's just get naked It's a trip and a half

You laughed at that, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, before stowing the map away and turning on the car. “I guess catching Reggie in the shower isn’t enough anymore?”

Hey!

“You started making it weird buddy.”

It had started to rain when you finally pulled up in your driveway, but you couldn’t be bothered to rush inside, enjoying the feeling of the cooling wetness on your skin.

“Look at that,” you said to nobody in particular, not knowing if Luke was still around or if he puffed back to the garage, “I didn’t even need to go swimming after all.”

He was. Sitting in the passenger seat, face on his arms while he leaned on the open car window, he watched you dance in the rain with a smile on his face. He was glad he decided to stick around and keep you company on that road trip. You gave him the courage to listen to My Name Is Luke for the first time (and getting to see you smile while showing off his impressive music knowledge was a bonus too). Because without knowing, you were doing little deeds for the boys too.

And made ALEX…

Whoever wrote that “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain”-quote totally forgot to mention how dangerous small summer storms can be. 

Well sure, it might have been your fault for staying out for too long and deciding to let the sun that came out a little bit later dry you instead of changing into fresh and dry clothes, but whatever happened happened and you got sick. (It’s not like you had anything better to do during the last few days of your summer holidays, right?) 

Flynn had been a great friend and hung out almost daily at your house, playing board games, watching movies or tv or even just discussing upcoming Julie and The Phantoms possibilities with you. But your dearest little helper had been Alex.

The blond drummer had turned into the tall brother you never had but always wanted (focus on tall because the age thing with ghosts is seriously confusing) even if he was invisible to you 100% of the time. You had the same interests and were able to bond without actually having to say any words, little gestures and reciprocations on your side were more than enough.

Julie had come up with an easy solution and had bought you some of those sound buzzers (like the ones that dogs and cats use to communicate with their owners) and recorded some simple words and phrases the boys liked to use on them. Now the boys just had to press them to be able to communicate with you without having to use pen and paper or Julie herself (sure your parents were a little bit weary and confused, but you said it was for a longer school research project and that shut them up).

Now, feeling way better than during the last few days, but still very tired, you were sitting in your bed, not really focused on the tv show (or was it a movie?) that was playing on your computer. You had been contemplating and mentally preparing yourself to get something to eat and to drink for the past 15 minutes, but the thoughts alone were exhausting and binding you to the bed. Just then a tray with a water bottle, meds and a fruit bowl floated into your room. 

Suddenly wide awake and full of energy you clumsily jumped out of your bed and grabbed the tray, throwing a quick glance out of the door to see if your parents were around and slammed the door shut, wincing at the loud sound and hoping that Alex had walked out of the way (not that it would have hurt him, but you know - rude).

“Rude.” 

See? He thought the same. (Julie had to specifically add this word for Alex.) 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I would like not to get murdered or have Sam and Dean Winchester on my back because my parents think I’m possessed and need to be exorcised.”

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Me.”

“Alex… I need more context.”

“I do. Me.”

You just blinked blankly at the sound buzzers, trying to piece together what Alex was trying to say.

“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. M-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH Y/N! WHATEVER THAT SCHOOL PROJECT IS, TELL IT I HEARD IT AND I DON’T CARE WHAT IT WANTS!” you heard your father's scream come muffled through the door.

The audience laughter from sitcoms filled your room and you groaned, grabbing a pillow and smashing it against your face.

Faintly you heard the telltale sound of a pen scribbling something on paper and when you peeked from behind the pillow a note was floating in the air in front of you. “You mean exorcise ME! You would be the one surviving!” 

“What? Oh my god… yeah okay, YOU get exorcised… same thing. Both aren’t allowed to happen. Forgive my fever brain.”

“No.”

“Fork you, Alex.”

“No.”

“I have Carlos on speed-dial, I’m sure he already came up with other methods to get rid of ghosts other than the salt thing. He already told me that he’s sorry and that he thinks I might get haunted by you too with the amount of time I spend at their house.” 

“No. Food.”

Confused at that topic change it took you a few seconds to answer. “What?” Looking around your gaze landed on the tray that you had deposited on your desk. “Oh right! Boy, I completely forgot how thirsty and hungry I am. Did I say thank you? Fang u!” you mumbled with your mouth full of fruit. 

“No. Food.”

You swallowed down your food and took a big gulp of water. “Yes Alex, thank you. I am eating. You see? Here I am, here’s the food. The food is here and now whoops - ifs gan!”

You could basically feel the annoyance radiating from the ghost and weren’t really shocked when the pen started to scribble something down again.

“No! Argh!” He really wrote Argh… that dork really wrote Argh! “You can be worse than Reggie sometimes, but you do it on purpose and I’m just sorry for Reggie. A) Carlos thinks he got rid of us by making a french dip and B) You’re awfully lively for a supposedly sick person. I might need to use the buzzers more and see what other reactions I can provoke from your parents.”

Crumbling the note in your hands you thought ‘Challenge accepted’. “You know what? I think I’mma go back on Reggie’s offer and actually let him introduce me to Wilbur. He might know some stuff I could use to blackmail you. And you’re right! I feel much better, just very tired, but that’s nothing a little bit of fresh air can’t fix! Toodles!” 

You left your room, leaving a flabbergasted ghost behind who had lost his snapback with the number of times he had been combing through his hair with his hands. And while angrily pressing a pink buzzer, the buzzer wasn't the only thing that screamed “WILLIAM!” after the girl. (That was another important sound Alex wanted to have recorded.)

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Taglist: @sunsetcurvej​​ @ifilwtmfc​

[bakugohoex]

"if you ate pussy does th-" "Y/N do not finish that sentence"

pairing: amajiki tamaki x female reader

cw: swearing and the good ol’ kiss

word count: 2500 +

a/n: a little thing you’re 16 in this and tamaki is 17 so the age gap is only two years i didn't want to make it weird so i thought you guys should know that before you read on 

summary: in which you had been shot by a quirk that makes you say your thoughts aloud, the big three come to class 1a, you’re long time crush and friend tamaki gets made to answer questions and you stupidly raise your hand

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The first time you met Tamaki he had been leaning  against a wall outside muttering to himself as he was all on his own. You had been asked by Aizawa to grab some papers and as it was only the first week of UA, you walked up to the boy.

You tapped his shoulder as he quickly flinched not turning to face you, “hi, I’m a first year do you know where the staff office is.” When he heard what you said he turned around looking down as he didn’t want to meet your eyes. “Is everything alright?”

He kept looking down before you saw him play with hands before finally looking up, even though he wasn’t meeting your eyes it was progress, his bangs covered parts of his eyes as you stared at him, giving a smile to show some sort of friendship. He started to speak; his voice soft you could listen to it every day if you could, “I can-n” you give him reassuring smile, “sho- show you.”

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you.” You walked in a comfortable silence not wanting to push him to talk to you, and within a few minutes you had arrived at your destination, “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

He looked down slouching his hands in his trouser pockets, “no worries” he quickly spoke as he started to walk away.

“My names Y/n Y/l/n, and yours?” You shouted as he stopped in his track.

“Tamaki Amajiki” he speaks as quickly as he leaves.

You smile thinking about the boy you would never see again, well that’s what you thought, you had met him a second and third time again with him leaning against a wall.

Every time you met him he would say more and more words until he was starting to get comfortable around you, even texting who Tamaki liked as he didn’t have to directly speak, a growing friendship was blossoming as you both texted and talked at school.

A couple months after your first meeting with Tamaki, the crush you held for the raven-haired boy grew. You loved every aspect of him and even being friends shocked you as he tried his best to retain conversations even with his anxiety.

“Katsuki this seems dodgy to go investigate some weirdo who you heard Aizawa talk about.” You and Bakugo would often sneak out of the dorms to investigate any new crimes that you’d heard about being childhood friends you tried to keep him out of trouble even if he was on house arrest for fighting Midoriya.

“You only think that because the quirk is unexplainable, dumbass” He huffed grabbing your wrist as he dragged you outside into the city, the cold air hit your covered body as you regretted wearing a hoodie that was too big on you.

You continued walking alongside the explosion boy as he rambled on about how slow you were you gave him a playful smirk as you ran to catch up to him, “you have too much anger for a guy who isn’t even 6 foot.”

He scowled pushing you into a building as you gave him the finger continuing to walk until you found the villain that Bakugo had heard about, you’s seen some pro hero’s that you didn’t recognise surrounding the building as both Bakugo and you watched, it wasn’t like the both of you were going to join in.

You just wanted to watch, but clearly the villain had other plans, he had come outside as he he started fighting hand to hand. “why isn’t he using his quirk?” you question.

“How the fuck would I know?” Bakugo muttered as you both continued to watch, he was easily captured as he hadn’t shown any sign of even having a quirk, well that’s what you thought anyway.

Bakugo and you put your hoods up moving with the spectators to act like you weren’t students, you followed Bakugo who dragged you to the front of the crowd, seeing the man with his hands behind his back.

“That was a fucking waste of time then.” Bakugo muttered as he started to disperse with the rest of the crowd.

aYou stayed watching to see if anything had happened but instead all you saw was  flick of his wrists pointing towards you. You couldn’t see anything coming out from your hand, but the villain saw as his power shot right into your heart.

He walked away smugly knowing he was only a low level villain anyway, you heard Bakugo shout your name as your quickly ran up following him not even realising what had happened.

The next day you woke up with a banging headache Bakugo had texted saying he couldn’t wait to start class again being alone in the dorms and not being able to do anything really pissed him off.

You laughed thinking how he was just a big baby, you hadn’t realised but you’d typed it out and sent it to him, turning off your phone and going on with getting ready for school.

Your phone blowing up with Bakugo wanting to kill you for calling him a baby which you ignored. You had walked with Midoriya into class, asking him how his grounding had been, he laughed as he said that he regretted it but was happy to be back.

You spoke instantly not even knowing your mouth was moving, “next time try not provoke the dickhead, you’re both idiots after all.”

Midoriya stared never hearing you blatantly bash both him and Bakugo, he raised an eyebrow before he gave an embarrassed laugh. You walked over to your seat not realising anything wrong had happened before you saw a text from Tamaki.

He told you about how he was coming to talk about work studies and how much you’d enjoy it and should join him there. He was a lot better on text being able to express himself more than his timid self ever could.

Again your fingers moved without you realising, quickly typing out another response, “are you sure you just don’t want to spend more time with me?” you sent a winky face as you’d never been so forward with Tamaki.

Tamaki received your message as he was walking with Mirio and Nejire to class 1A, his eyes shot out feeling embarrassed that you had thought he wanted to get closer to you, which he couldn’t deny he was thinking of that as well.

He stared at the message on the home screen seeing the wink, you always took baby steps with him so what had changed. Did you like him back?

As you and the rest of the class settled down Aizawa introduced the big three, you smiled seeing Tamaki’s indigo hair as he slouched walking in. You gave a smile waving at him as he gave a curt nod to, fearful of being in front of your classmates.

“Listen carefully, these are the three third years at U.A who stand at the top of all current U.A. students. Also known as the Big Three.” Aizawa had spoken as they walked into the classroom, everybody talking and thinking about them. They looked normal, you’d met Nejire and Mirio before having small conversations as you were beside Tamaki who would lean against the wall. He was getting better at looking at you though, even meeting eyes once or twice. You always gave reassuring looks to show that the progress he was making was amazing.

“Okay, can you please introduce yourselves briefly?” Aizawa pointed to Tamaki who looked like he wanted to dig himself a hole and lay in it, “Let’s start with Amajiki.”

You gave him a look to show reassurance but instead he produced an intensive glance, everybody stared in shock as his glare created silence before Iida spoke out about it. Tamaki began muttering to Mirio and Nejire talking about potatoes, you couldn’t hear but by his movement you knew what was going to happen.

“I want to go home…!” It was the last thing he said before turning around facing the wall, you gave a sign as you knew this would happen in front of your class which were full of loud mouths, you knew if Bakugo was here, Tamaki would never hear the end of it and he’d be making fun of you for having a crush on the shy boy.

As the talk went on, Nejire introducing everybody, before Mirio had a chance to speak Aizawa asked if there were any questions before they spoke about the program. As hands raised up, your hand instinctively moved up as you were thinking about Tamaki and his quirk.

You remember when he first showed you it, you were alone, and he was telling you about his work studies with fat gum when you finally asked to see his quirk.

He ate some octopus that he had in his bag and before you knew it an octopus’s tentacle covered his hand, “Can I touch it?” You had asked taking on his shy personality.

You loved his quirk it was unique and it made him become even more special in your heart, he had allowed you to touch it, his cheeks flushing red as you stroked your finger tips back and forth on it. “It’s amazing.” You muttered you’d thought of more intimate questions that would make the boy faint if you asked, thinking that he wouldn’t even know the answer anyway.

Well that’s what you thought, but as you were sitting on your chair fidgeting, your hand raised as Aizawa went through the class you didn’t really have a question you wanted to ask if Tamaki was okay, but instead your mind wandered to the questions you had thought about all those months ago.

“And finally, Y/n” Aizawa said as Tamaki glanced in your direction, he had faced somewhat forward looking down as his hands went into his trouser pockets.

You hadn’t met to say what you said, but your mouth started moving on its own as if your thoughts were controlling your mouth, “If you ate pussy does th-“

“Y/N do not finish that sentence.” You realised what you had said as Aizawa spoke to make you stop.

Everybody stared at you as Tamaki blushed intensely, he noticed your flushed cheeks as you didn’t meet anybody’s eyes, “Fuck what is going on with me?” You thought but instead your mouth had moved again.

“Why am I speaking my thoughts, I didn’t ruin our friendship, I can’t have, he’ll forgive me” You spoke again as your eyes widened. “Shit, was it from last night.” You finally looked up giving a look of confusion and embarrassment.

“Last night Y/n.” Aizawa said raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, I meant yesterday I went outside and I saw a villain get captured is all.” You say as you play with your fingers refusing to meet Tamaki’s eyes, he stared as his cheeks were still a bright red.

“Why am I thinking all of this? What is happening?” The class was silent as you couldn’t control your thoughts.

“That’s so cool, Y/n what do you think about me?” Denki breaks the silence as his voice travels fast.

“Why is lighting boy asking me questions now, shit, don’t think Y/n, don’t think.” Your eyes moved to his hair, “his hairs funnier than usual, I’ll need to tell Katsuki that.” You put your hand to your mouth quickly before you could keep rambling on.

“That is enough.” Aizawa shouts as you all stay silent, “Amajiki as you have an affiliation with Y/n take her to recovery girl, clearly something is wrong.”

You pout looking at Aizawa before speaking, “did he just call me wrong in the head, that’s so mean.”

Realisation hits of what you just heard, “I can’t go with Tamaki.” Aizawa glares as you finally meet his eyes, he looked cute with his hair in front of his blushing cheeks, “he’s so cute.”

You stop as you said the three words that made you become even more embarrassed, “Amajiki take her.”

You stand up straightening your skirt as you start walking out of the classroom, not talking to Tamaki as he followed, thankful to be out of the room but now he had the problem of you.

“Y/n..” He pauses as you finally stop walking ahead. “W..What happened in th-there?”

You melt as you turn around his shy nature making him adorable to you, you admit everything. From sneaking out with Bakugo to see the villain with no quirk, before finally saying “…and that’s how I basically started saying my thoughts and ruined our friendship because I admitted my crush.”

You facepalm as you realise you spoke your thoughts again, you started walking again even more embarrassed now, “Y/n wait.”

You stop again as he starts to walk closer to you, he takes his hand out of his pocket as he grabs your wrist, “I…I know it’s hard being fr…friends with me, but..but I l…like you too.”

You turn around facing him, as the close contact between the two of you was unknown territory, “You like me too.” Taking on Tamaki’s shy personality you don’t meet his eyes, as your hands travel to his own, playing with his fingers.

“I do.” He says staring at you inattentively, for once Tamaki was looking at you, and as your lifted your head up, you both met each other’s gaze.

You give a small smile before feeling both your heads turn, he finally closed the gap as his hand went to cup your face, caressing your cheek as the kiss deepened. Your hands went his chest as you continued to kiss in silence. Before finally letting go, you breathed out as you both smiled another rosy blush creeping onto his face.

“Let’s t…take you to recovery girl.” He smiles as he sees your hand, he grabs it as you look up giving him a smile.

“Yeah and then afterwards we can see what happens if you eat pussy.” You blush in embarrassment at your thoughts as he trembles in intensity at the comment, wanting to find a wall to cower over. “I’m so sorry, come here.”

You see as he still looks for a wall, instead grabbing his hands as you hug him, he stops trembling as he hugs back finally gaining comfort and resting his chin on your shoulder, you caress his hair bringing him comfort.

Once he had regained himself, he smiled at you going back to holding your hand as you went to recovery girl, even with the shouting from her and Aizawa about sneaking out, you had Tamaki and gained a relationship from that one stupid quirk.

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[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI - Kickflip

A/N: Here is the first installment our take on bad boy harry! It gets into things pretty quick but there is lots of content to come. Skater boy Harry is essentially what you wish every boy with a nicotine addiction was like featuring Timothée Chalamet as the uninterested boyfriend 🤭 We had a lot of fun writing this story so we hope you enjoy! - n+d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, cheating

word count: 8.5k

Y/N was just an average girl. 

Though some could say she tread on the nerdier side of things, she was neither here nor there as far as social groups at school. No one really bullied her, she sort of just kept to herself and did her work and that was all she needed to get by. Her parents were middle class, working average jobs, and Y/N would likely follow suit. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted to do just yet. Everything was fine in her life, except for the fact that her boyfriend of three years refused to touch her. It was a shame really. She had grown a really strong attachment to him and they used to hang out all the time, but as they got older it seemed like he wanted less and less to do with her. His status as student body president definitely helped her out and well... Everyone had a crush on Timothée. She really wanted to explore with him, wanted to pleasure him and vice versa, bond in a way so many others described. But she just boiled it down to her not being sexy enough for him. She saw the browser history on his computer when he left it out in his bed while showering. He didn’t even try to hide it. Y/N, couldn’t say she didn’t have fantasies about one particular bad boy. Harry. 

Harry was in fact, that skater boy. That one guy that rode his board out of school— until he had gotten his car. He still rode it around the school campus, not at all hiding it. Even at the age of 17, he had gotten tattoos. His parents were wicked cool. They didn’t mind him doing whatever as long as he did well in school, and attended functions like family parties and whatever. They were close, anyways. His father was a well known quantum physicist and his mum, a romance novel author. His group of friends called his home their main hang out area. He had a good head on his shoulder despite what his look may say. He knew people would definitely be judging him and truth be told, he didn’t much care. He was more into what he was working towards versus what high school champs had to say. 

Harry was intrigued when Mr. Beck partnered him with Y/N for a science project, though. She was a very good girl. Known for good grades and dating that class president dude, Timothée. He was pretty sure the dude was 100% gay or at least bi based on the subtle flirting he had initiated with Harry until a few years back when he decided to date Y/N. In his opinion, it was a waste because whenever he saw them, there was no passion. Y/N was hot as fuck— you’d have to be blind to not see it. But he didn’t know what went on behind the scenes. He wasn’t close with her but she seemed chill enough, so he didn’t mind when she was partnered with him. 

“Hey. Come in.” He said politely as he answered the door for Y/N, holding it open and taking her bag. He could hear the little jingle of bells on collars and realized he hadn’t warned her. “Uh— we have a bunch of cats. Is that cool? Or do we need to leave? Sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you were allergic or something.”

“Hi.” Y/N squeaked out, taking a step inside and thanking him for taking her bag. His house was massive! You’d never be able to tell he had a house like this just by looking at him, but the address clearly stated it was his so she didn’t bother leaving and looking for another. The first thing she noticed besides the beautiful interior of the house was the sound of little bells. Y/N turned her head to see about four cats coming towards her and her heart melted. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t know you had kitties!” She quickly dropped down to her knees to greet them, “hi little angels!” She cooed, sticking her hand out for each of them to have a sniff and see if they liked her or not before she went to pet them. She looked up at Harry with a bright smile, “Sorry, my parents never let me have pets after my bunny died in 4th grade because they didn’t want me to go through that emotional trauma again.” She knew it was a bit of an overshare, but that’s just the kind of person she was. Harry looked extremely attractive from this angle, ideas swirling around in her mind about all the things she could do with him. Y/N stood up again, fixing her little overalls before pulling off her shoes and leaving them by the door. She didn’t want to get a nice house like this all messy. She walked up to Harry again, expecting him to lead her towards his room or wherever they wanted to work.

Harry was impressed. All the cats seemed to like her, including Grumpy. He was named that for a reason. His smush face and grumpy look were warnings for how he really didn’t like anyone but Harry and his parents. But he was rubbing against Y/N’s hand and then her leg with a purr. 

“Oh. I’m sorry about your rabbit. It always sucks when they die.” Harry said softly. He wasn’t sure why she told him, but it did make him sad to hear it. He lost a cat a few months back and it did hurt. There was definite emotional trauma in it. “They like you. That’s cool. They’ll probably follow us up. Are you cool with going to my room? That’s where my computer is.” He hadn’t brought it down but his room was his preferred study space. He also didn’t want her to think he was some creep so gave her the option, which she nodded to. “It’s at the top, the attic space so prepare for some steps.” He said sheepishly, picking up her bag again so he could carry it up. “Oof. Are there bricks in ‘ere?” He was teasing.

“I don’t mind.” Y/N felt good about the fact that his cats liked her, she was rather fond of them already so she didn’t mind them coming upstairs with them. She felt herself get all nervous because well... she would be going to Harry’s room. He probably had no idea about the filthy thoughts she had about him, even just watching him walk up the stairs was hot. “No! Just my laptop and notebook... maybe a pencil case... and a water bottle.” Y/N defended, feeling her face get all blushy because she did realize there was quite a lot of stuff in her bag. However, walking up the stairs wasn’t all too difficult. They were perfectly spaced out which was nice, all of the decor in the house was beautiful but still very cozy. The house was definitely lived in. 

His room though? Goodness. 

“Wow...” Y/N mumbled as she stepped up inside. It was amazing. The walls were white but he had a theme of wood and navy, some vintage looking items here and there. Overall she noticed his little reading nook and what seemed to be an astronomy section with bean bags and a telescope. He even had a mini fridge in there and a cupboard... even a microwave! It was a whole little man cave. 

“Yeah, s’nice. It’s my own little place.” He smiled at her reaction, putting her bag down on his bed as he grabbed his laptop and unplugged it from the charger. “Want a water?” He didn’t listen for an answer, rather grabbed her one and handed it to her. His mum had raised him to always give company a drink. “We can work on my bed. The cats will probably come in here and pretend they aren’t looking for attention when they are.” He smirked, going over to his bed and sitting against the headboard like area. She looked shy so he tilted his head, patting the blanket. “C’mon then. Don’t be shy. This isn’t your first time in a boys room, is it?” He couldn’t imagine that Timothée was dating a hot bitch like Y/N and not be tapping it. If she didn’t have a boyfriend he would be trying to get her to know better because she really was gorgeous. But they’d been dating too long and Y/N probably wouldn’t go for that.

Y/N knew that her blush gave away her answer as she went to sit on his bed, not quite next to him though. She was a bit too nervous for that. In her mind she was already sitting on Harry’s lap with his hands gripping at her ass, his perfectly plump lips slotted between her own. Y/N shook her own thoughts out of her head but felt like she needed to answer his question. 

“Maybe it is...” She mumbled, pulling her laptop out of her bag and turning it on. It suddenly got very hot in his room and not just because they were in the attic. Y/N was burning up, his eyes were very obviously on her and she knew he’d ask and she’d definitely confess to him. She’d do anything Harry wanted her to do really, fuck. She just wanted to be touched. Seeing the look of shock and confusion prompted her to explain further despite how anxiety provoking it might have been. “Timmy and I don’t—” Y/N started, looking away feeling all embarrassed. “He won’t...” She couldn’t even say it, she was just that shy and embarrassed.

Oh. Wow. He didn’t.... he didn’t fuck her? Harry thought.

“You’re kidding?” He raised a brow. He understood what she meant. It went from zero to a hundred real quickly but he couldn’t say he was angry about it. He just didn’t understand why. 

Y/N’s face grew incredibly hot, looking up at Harry with a serious but semi spooked expression when he asked if she was kidding. She absolutely wasn’t kidding. If she was kidding she wouldn’t be so damn horny and ravenous. She felt like she could burst all the time, touch starved beyond belief. Sure, he’d kiss her, but never anything too passionate. It would always make him uncomfortable the second they got too hot. 

“How come you’re tellin’ me this? I mean... it’s fine you do, I won’t say shit but, we barely know each other.” He questioned, putting an arm behind his head as he looked expectantly at her for an answer. She was hot. Sexy as fuck, had that innocent good girl appeal and he loved that shit, personally. Timmy. God, the least sexy name to moan in bed. Really. He could only think about the fairy godparents cartoon. Ick. He was surprised though. “You’ve been dating for years, haven’t you?” It definitely wasn’t a Y/N problem. She was blurting things out so if she wanted to, she would have told him.

Y/N’s mouth went dry because well, she had an answer for him, she just wasn’t sure how he’d react. “cause... I know you enough to know you make me really nervous, especially right now.” Y/N was really bad at being sexy, her delivery and flirting was horrible but she hoped he picked up what she was putting down. “Yeah... we’ve been together for three years.” Y/N explained, letting out a deep breath. “It wasn’t so bad at first, but I just—” She was horny. She was so fucking horny it was ridiculous. She’d probably moan if they held hands at this point. “I’ve tried, but he’s not into it I guess.”

Harry could tell she was horny. He could feel it. He just knew. Looking at her, she was a bit antsy. Not able to sit still but most importantly, squeezing her thighs together. No way. She was horny and maybe partly because of him? 

“Not into it? That’s some bullshit.” Harry scoffed. “Not to be weird, but you’re hot as fuck. If he’s not into it he might be gay or is just blind.” He didn’t want to offend her but he had a feeling it was the first. Either way, there had to be a reason for him not wanting to eat the girl alive. Harry had definitely noticed Y/N before. She was cute, kind, had his favorite type of body, and had pretty, full lips. Also, a very cute laugh. She was innocent and he liked that type of vibe. Maybe it was a bit fucked to be aroused by that but hey, he was a teenage boy as well. “Don’t have to be nervous, babe. I don’t bite. Unless asked.” He gave her another smirk. Her blush was cute and her flush reminded him again at how easy it was to work her up. They’d begun working but Harry still had a question of two, and he could feel her hormones— he swore he could. The poor thing. 

Well. There it goes. 

The guy Y/N had been having sexual fantasies about for years calling her hot? Of course she wouldn’t be able to calm down now. Her face hadn’t cooled off, he didn’t really give her a chance to either. She just pulled her hair up into a bun but it didn’t help. Poor girl, you could see it on her neck too. She was just nervous and embarrassed and horny. So so horny. Timmy being gay though? It could be a solid explanation for why he didn’t want to touch her. It’s not like he looked at other girls, he always called her pretty and complimented her looks. Was always okay with cuddling and other platonic stuff.. maybe the kissing was just him trying to make it seem believable. Harry was always around though, sometimes she’d just imagine it was his hair she was carding through, that it was his jaw she was cupping instead of Timmy’s. She loved Timmy, she did, but she wasn’t sexually attracted to him. She tried to be, wanted to be, if he reciprocated maybe she would be? But even having Harry next to her was turning her on. Even hearing him say he didn’t bite unless asked? She could have died, swore she let out a whimper when she shifted. 

“Has he touched you at all?” Harry questioned.

“No, just kissed but like.. nothing crazy.”

“Seriously? He’s holdin’  out on you like that? That’s not fair.” Harry muttered. Fucking crazy. The fact that the guy got one of the hottest girls in school and refused to do anything with her when it was blatantly obvious that she needed a good dicking, more than anything? Negligent, at best. “You said you tried and he’s not into it... what did you try? Was it something weird or just asking?” He was trying to figure this out. “You don’t have to tell me and it’s none of my business but, m’just curious.” He was curious if she was hinting towards Harry taking care of it. Which he would happily do. The poor thing looked like she needed an orgasm more than anything else. He wouldn’t be opposed to a good make out session and finger fuck.

Y/N was surprised by how genuinely shocked he was that nothing was happening between her and Timmy. It made those butterflies spring up in her stomach and go haywire, his tone was suggesting he was curious which was good of course. If he thought she was attractive then... surely she wasn’t the problem. 

“I um...” Y/N was so nervous talking about this stuff, it really wasn’t like her at all. Hearing her say these things out loud made her physically cringe but he did ask. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? “Anytime I’d try to like... grind on him when we kiss and stuff, he’d just stop it.” She explained, feeling her cheeks get all boiling hot again. She regretted wearing a sweater. “I haven’t brought it up to him or anything cause I don’t want him to feel bad.” Y/N was still a sweetheart, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel inadequate. She’d been with him for three years, that was quite the long time.

“Jesus. That is either some good control or he can’t get hard. If he can’t, he's definitely not straight, babe.” Harry could be positive about that. Any straight man would be like an eager puppy to get between her legs. Harry included, if that was offered up. “M’sorry. That sucks. So you’ve been sexually frustrated for 3 years then?” He shook his head. “Not to be a dick, but how come you haven’t broken up with him yet? He isn’t meeting your needs. Any good man takes care of their girl. It’s just... how it should be.” Harry couldn’t believe this. “Trust me, you’re hot as fuck. Again, sorry if this is crude but— you’ve got the perfect thighs and probably a gorgeous pussy. Can’t imagine a man not wanting to get his mouth or hands on it. Or your tits. M’sure you’re told that often.” Maybe his vulgar speech would deter her but he had a feeling she would love it.

If someone told Y/N she’d be sitting on a bed with her crush while he told her that she had great thighs, tits, and assumed she had a gorgeous pussy, she would have laughed in their face. Harry looked completely serious too, his own eyes had grown dark and Y/N just felt stuck in shock. 

“Yeah..” She squeaked, swallowing thickly as she tried to focus back on the project but she was just staring at the screen. “He’s my best friend.. I care about him and he’s been there for me through a lot I— I couldn’t just do that.” She didn’t have the heart to break up with him. She needed a proper reason, just so she could feel guilt free. Y/N couldn’t just ask him to help her out could she? He had expressed to her how he felt like any good man took care of their girl's needs and well... she wasn’t his girl but oh did she want to be. As far as Y/N knew, he had slept around quite a lot. He thought she was attractive but he probably thought many girls were attractive. Maybe he’d just fuck anything? 

But she’d been thinking about him for so long.

Harry knew that she was avoiding looking at him because she was aroused by his words. She liked what he had to say and how he said it. It was obvious by her reaction. Which did make him smile a bit. She was flushed and biting her lower lip and he wanted to see just how flustered he could get her. 

“I get that. But how great is he if he’s not taking care of a need you obviously are being deprived of.” Harry muttered. Little French shit. He could fight him for that alone. “Are you horny, Y/N?” He asked. His body shifted so he was properly facing her, closer than before.

She really thought she’d be able to hold it together, but when he asked her flat out if she was horny she knew she couldn’t lie anymore. Y/N has fully shown up to do work and now it was looking like she was going to get an orgasm too? That seemed fake, there’s no way. But he had shifted a bit closer to her, completely forgetting about his laptop. Her eyes snapped to look up at him, swallowing thickly before looking back at her laptop. 

“Maybe.” She offered up shyly. She kept glancing up at him and looking away. She was just that nervous. Y/N couldn’t even pretend she felt bad for liking it either. It wasn’t like she hadn’t given Timmy an option, she was positive he probably would be upset... maybe he would be, but— she couldn’t pass this up, she’d been thinking about it for so long.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Harry couldn’t pass this opportunity up either. Especially because it was a dream. Y/N was exactly his type and he liked her energy. She wasn’t being treated properly by her boyfriend and that wasn’t okay in his book. He knew she would say yes but the whimper made his stomach clench. She was desperate for it. The look on her eyes showed it. His hand came up to feel her face, immediately feeling her cheek lean into his touch. 

“Poor girl. Have been left to fend for yourself for a while. S’not fair to you. Not at all.” He sighed, truly in awe of how any man could let a wet cunt and a woman eager to use it up. “What would you like me to do?” He wanted to coax something out of her. “How worked up are you?”

Y/N’s heart dropped so far it probably fell out of her ass. Hearing him offer to take care of her sent her into a fit of emotions. Her eyes got all floaty, her cunt creating a second heartbeat, her body was naturally leaning towards his and she could have sworn she was dreaming at this point because it was all too good. Of course she agreed, closing her laptop and casting it aside so she could focus on the task at hand. She was far too focused on how good it felt to have his hand on her cheek that she hadn’t registered that he was asking her about what she wanted him to do. Y/N felt her face warm up all over again because she didn’t want to say it outright. It would sound so dirty, she felt like she couldn’t say. She scanned his eyes, waiting for him to say something but he wasn’t letting up. 

“I—I’m really sticky..” She whispered, already feeling shy and embarrassed about all of this. Y/N knew she wasn’t exactly sexy or anything.

Harry knew that she may be embarrassed of how she said things but to him, it was hot. The fact no one else had touched her before and she was going to let him... it was sexy as fuck. Especially because she has a boyfriend who wasn’t up to par with what she wanted.

“S’okay, love. That’s good. Very normal.” He felt himself harden a bit at the visual. “C’mere. Come on my lap.” He motioned for her to straddle him, which she did eagerly. Fuck, this was going to be fun. He was going to teach her some shit. “Why don’t you show me how you like to kiss, sweetheart? Let me see how you want things. Don’t be embarrassed about it either. I promise I’ll find it hot.” He pulled her face down to his and felt his body warm up, her eyes blow and obviously her face warm and eager to get herself touched. “Just kissing for a bit. Then I’ll touch.”’

She wasn’t sure how she was meant to keep her breathing steady when he had so casually just asked her to straddle his lap. Y/N didn’t really think before she moved, surprising even herself with how easily and comfortably she moved into his lap. She felt like everything had gone into slow motion, nodding when he asked her to show him how she liked to kiss. That she could do. 

Y/N was positive he could feel her clench, cunt throbbing at the idea of finally getting to kiss him. She’d been waiting for so long, she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop once she started. With her face mere centimeters away from his face, she paused for a moment before letting her eyes flutter shut as she leaned in. 

Fuck. 

The pathetic sounding whimpered she released at the feeling had her blushing even harder. Y/N hadn’t made many sounds or answered many of his questions, but that was mostly because she was used to being quiet. This kiss however? God was it perfect. Y/N felt hungry, kissing him with such a desperate need. There was still passion behind it, but she just really wanted him.

Harry could tell this girl was hungry for it. Literally starved for orgasms and he couldn’t help but think about what a damn shame it was that no one had been giving it to her. When her mouth tasted this good and she was so eager and hot in her kisses, he would give her whatever the fuck she wanted. He kissed deep right back, hand wrapping around her hip and pulling her down on to him. She was pleased at that, Harry showing her it was okay to grind. Which, to be honest, may have been a mistake considering how good she was at it. He groaned into her mouth as she rocked and worked her hips, her lips open as she whimpered. 

“S’it good? Think you’re rubbin’ your clit right against my cock like that.” He murmured into her mouth, wanting to talk dirty and see what she would do. What she would respond with.

She couldn’t have imagined it being this good, him kissing her back as if he too had wanted her for all this time. It didn’t feel like this when she kissed Timmy, as awful as it was to say, she was starting to think that maybe Harry was right about him. She was quickly snapped out of those thoughts when his hand pushed her hips down against him. 

“Mmmm” A long whine fell into his mouth, her hips moving at a pretty eager pace. Y/N really wanted to cum. She wanted it so bad she genuinely thought she’d lose it. Of course, she’s made herself cum before, but it felt so different when someone else was involved. Especially that someone being Harry. Y/N felt her cunt throb at the dirty talk. Another pathetic sounding moan fell from her lips and her eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure. “Feels so good.” She whimpered against his lips, desperate for him to touch her. Y/N wasn’t sure what he would do, but having his hands on her? In any way? She would surely lose her mind. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, sticking to his shoulder cause it just seemed right to steady herself. Y/N needs something more.

“Good. You can touch me.” Harry gave her the go ahead. “Wherever you want.” She obviously didn’t know how to do it and he wasn’t going to shame her or want to make her feel uncomfortable. Rather, he slid a hand up her skirt, gently lifting it up and getting his hands into her panties. It was arousing to say the least. His hands held her ass, grabbing at it and helping her move her hips. Holding the bare skin, he squeezed and licked into her mouth, feeling her work her cunt harder and hump a little faster against him. Obviously it felt good to her. “Such a perfect ass, baby.” He whispered, giving her a sweet pet name. “So eager for me. So sweet.” He chuckled, moving to kiss at her neck. She was going to lose it and he liked that he was the one doing it.

Funny how things unfolded exactly how Y/N pictured it in her mind. The second she sat down on the bed she was thinking about straddling him and having his hands on her ass and now that’s exactly what they were doing. It felt so fucking good too. Y/N was trying to hold back her whimpers, but Harry didn’t let up. He just kept licking into her mouth, rubbing and squeezing at her ass as if she wasn’t completely losing it in his lap. Her hands hand hesitantly traveled up to his hair, the way she’d do it to Timmy except... he seemed to respond in a much more appropriate way. Harry seemed to like it, liked it a lot based on the hard squeeze he gave her ass. Y/N let out shaky moans when his lips attached to her neck, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Please— I need more.” She pleaded, “feels good, but I need more.. please.” Y/N was begging him to touch her. She wouldn’t tell him explicitly, but if he wanted to lay her down and work his fingers against her she’d like that or even if he wanted to put his mouth to work. Anything, she just needed to cum.

“There we go. Love to hear you ask me.” Harry had been waiting for that begging, and he had gotten it. There was a quick switchover, Harry laying her down and gently moving so he was between her thighs. He would start simple. His finger ran over the soaked through cotton of her pink panties, groaning at the sight. “They’re completely soaked.” He hissed, gently pulling them to the side. He couldn’t stop the deep breath that came when he saw her arousal stringing to the panties when he moved it over. “Fuck me. S’sticky all over your panties. I love that.” He has that effect on her, didn’t he? That was the best part. He had done that. He was going to make her feel the best she ever had. Fingers spread her open, a hum of appreciation coming from his mouth. “Just like I knew it. You’ve got the prettiest pussy... so wet... look how swollen your clit is.” He murmured, thumbing over it. It was visible and his mouth was watering. That pressure on her clit alone had the girl jilting under his touch, making him feel satisfied. His thumb rubbed harder in the sensitive part, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. “So pretty. Fuck. Can’t believe he’s never touched it. Left it for me to play with.”

Thank goodness she was laying down because Y/N was sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself up. He had simply lifted her skirt and revealed her panties, he didn’t even think twice. It seemed everything he did just turned her on. She liked that he just took what he wanted but also made sure she was feeling good. Y/N didn’t realize just how wet she was until he started to run his fingers over her and they felt completely slick. Her eyes rolled back, one of her hands gripping at his bed sheets while the other stayed on the nape of his neck tangled into his perfect locks. Her breath hitched, her other hand moving to cover her mouth because she knew she was about to be so fucking loud. Her body practically twitched whenever he rubbed over her swollen clit, his fingers were working magic in her and honestly, she wasn’t even sure if she could do it better herself. 

“Ah!” Y/N whined, her hips bucking up against his touch when she felt herself getting closer. She was so worked up she knew she could cum right then and there if he would let her. Her body was giving it away.

It made Harry all too aware of how stupid Timothée was. He wasn’t touching this cunt? Wasn’t getting these reactions? He had to be gay. There was no other way. 

“You’re so sensitive... fuck.” Harry couldn’t believe she was trusting him. If all people do this to her. It wasn’t like they’d ever been close. They went to each other’s birthday parties in elementary school like all the kids in classes did. But that was about it. Thank god for anatomy. 

“Just relax, love.” He muttered, spreading her legs further as he got comfortable. “This is gonna feel really good. Just do what feels right. Can pull on my hair... be as loud as you want, please. Love to hear I’m going a good job.” He smirked, holding her thighs open as he licked one thick stripe up her cunt.

“Oh— oh my god!” Y/N gasped loudly when she felt his wet tongue on her cunt. Her legs twitched from the pleasure that was spiking now that he was focused in her clit. Her hand traveled down to tug at his hair as suggested, her whole body reacting to his actions. She’d never felt anything like this before, felt like she was dreaming. At first she was a bit shy with the noises she was making, but he clearly didn’t like that, immediately increasing the pressure and speed and sticking to it so that she was a moaning mess for him. Y/N knew that if anyone was home they’d think someone was being tortured but god— it was nothing but sweet sweet pleasure. When Y/N played with herself on her own she never pushed her limits like Harry was doing. She was so sensitive and she knew that, but he was purposely working over her most sensitive spots so she was writhing and twitching beneath him. “Ah— mmmm—“ Y/N whined out, “Harry!” She gasped, feeling herself falling over the edge quite rapidly. Her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, it was so incredibly fast she wasn’t ready for that at all. Her moans were high pitched and whiny, her breathing heavy as she tried to get air in her lungs. She held herself back too, felt like she was going to pee on him if he kept going.

Harry kept going. 

If this was her first orgasm by someone else, her first proper orgasm? She was going to get the best one. He knew she was sensitive— could feel it in her shaking thighs, but he was a man of conviction. He went full on, suckling on her clit. The way she was reacting was beautiful, a soundless scream followed by his name and shudders. However— he wasn’t expecting her to squirt. It was the hottest damn thing he had ever experienced in his life. Her first orgasm and she was cumming that hard, Harry pulling back and rubbing her clit hard as she continued to leak. 

“Fuuuuuck, yes. Give it to me, sweetheart.” He groaned. Holy fuck. He hadn’t expected it to turn out like this at all but he wasn’t going to complain.

The sound that escaped her even shocked Y/N. A loud, borderline pained, scream left from her throat and her eyes squeezed shut. Her breathing was shaky, her hands having moved to cover her face because holy fuck was she overwhelmed. It was a lot. Y/N didn’t think it was humanly possible to cum that hard, and he just kept going. She was so sensitive it hurt, especially when he started rubbing on her clit after she seemingly peed on him but, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she thought he liked it. Y/N was in an endless stream of whimpers and throaty moans, he didn’t seem like he was giving up any time soon and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another. 

“It hurts—” She whimpered out, moving her hands from her face to grip at the pillow behind her. “But it feels so good.” Y/N was completely fucked. So gone for, the hormones and endorphins overcoming her. He seemed to know what he was doing, so she let him continue. She didn’t want him to stop if she was going to keep feeling like this.

“God, you’re so good. Letting me do whatever I want... we’re so deprived before, weren’t you?” Harry was shocked. The fact she was letting him continue, shaking but loving every bit? He was happy. Damn. Finally, a girl who could keep up with him and she had to be taken. “You okay?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over her clit lazily. His mouth had kissed at her thighs, biting down gently on one. “Hm.. can I mark here?” It wasn’t like her boyfriend was gonna see it. “And you don’t mind if I get myself off, do you?” He wanted to cum on her thighs or her stomach. His cock ached in his pants and he had no problem just getting her off, but he needed to cum. Of course he wouldn’t ask her to do anything, though. Despite it all, he respected her. She was a good girl. He was tainting her a bit but, she was happy to be tainted.

Y/N nodded her head to let him know she was okay, but he didn’t seem happy with her nodding, he wanted an answer. “Yes.” She whimpered out an answer to all of the things that he asked, still breathing shakily and twitching whenever the tension built up enough. The slow rubbing on her clit was still bringing her lots of pleasure, it made her want to cum again and that freaked her out. Could she really take that much? She’d never seen a cock in person before. Only even in porn but she didn’t watch that either because it made her feel yucky. Y/N swallowed thickly, seeing just how big he was. Holy shit. That was meant to fit inside someone? She already had trouble sticking her fingers in, but that? However, she was interested in watching him. Y/N watched him with loopy eyes, knowing for a fact she’d worship him after this. If he let her come back for more she happily would. Hell, she’d follow him around like a puppy if he kept making her feel like this.

It was probably the hottest hook up Harry’s ever had. Truth be told. He was in shock that Y/N was so needy for it and the fact she had let him be the one to play with her, to get her off, it was astonishing. There was nothing hotter than watching her legs open and pussy pulsing a bit from the intensity of her orgasms. 

“Mmm... you’re fucking hot.” Harry hissed, stroking himself as he bit down on her thigh. She let out a yelp that turned into a whine as he sucked a mark on to the softness of it, smirking when she rutted into his finger. After that though, he decided to take things up. “M’not gonna go in. Just... relax.” He rested himself against her cunt and rubbed the tip against her clit as he stroked himself heavily, hissing when her slickness covered him. It made it easy to stroke. “Jesus, you’re good. Feels good, hm? Better than your own fingers?” He knew it was. She looked fucked out, hips bucking into his own as he approached his own orgasm. Would it be too far to cum on her cunt? “Can I... fuck, can I cum on your cunt?” He had originally wanted her tummy or her thighs but seeing his cock against her now... he felt a bit primal.

Y/N had never expected this. This was the farthest she’d gone with anyone and the fact that it was with the guy that she’d been fantasizing about for years? It felt so unreal, definitely added to the intensity of her orgasms. Having him mark her? In a place where she’d be the only one to find it? That made her cunt throb. He started rubbing himself on her and she felt like that was a whole other level of horny. He felt so good against her, Y/N didn’t think she was that hot but Harry seemed to think so and that was enough to get her to feel confident enough to answer him with her full voice when he asked to cum on her cunt. 

“Yeah... you can cum on me..” Y/N didn’t have it in her to say cunt yet, but baby steps nonetheless. Harry was so hot, he looked so good above her. They weren’t even naked, just their lower halves, which in a way made it hotter because they were just that needy. His face was still slick with her, and that was something she couldn’t get over. 

It was apparent that Y/N didn’t know just how hot she was and that was a goddamn shame in Harry’s opinion. Because she was. She was so hot and he was sure that this wasn’t going to be the only time they had fun. 

“Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed as he began to cum on her. There was nothing like watching his cum stripe over her, soiling it with the white cream. It only made his orgasm better, a groan leaving him as he ran his cock through the slit and pressed against her clit again. “Fuck me, that’s so hot.” He whispered, mouth open at just how good it looked. When he saw her gawking at it, her tits moving under the fabric of her top, he smirked. “Want to taste it?” He ran two fingers through the mess.

Watching Harry cum was definitely the hottest thing Y/N had ever seen, the sounds he released and his scrunched up face was enough to make her shudder. On top of that, the feeling of hot cum ribboning over her cunt was something that she again couldn’t explain. It felt good, satisfying, especially because he seemed to be dying over it.

“Yes.”

It was a quiet squeak of an answer but it was an answer. Y/N was curious, she wanted to know what he tasted like and had a feeling that he too wanted her to try. If she didn’t like it she’d pretend to like it, but holy fuck she did actually like it. It was salty, a strange texture, but definitely not the worst thing she’d ever had in her mouth. It had its own taste, but she enjoyed that. Her mouth was wrapped around his fingers, gently licking and sucking the cum off his fingers while watching his eyes. He seemed to like this a lot too. Y/N was learning quite a bit, mostly that Timmy was definitely gay. But she didn’t just want to confront him like that that wouldn’t be fair. As soon as she was done, Harry kissed her again. This time it was more gentle than before. A kiss of appreciation. That was some good shit. Harry hadn’t been with someone who was a virgin and didn’t realize how horny they got— maybe it was just Y/N, though. He could have been having this and he didn’t. 

It was a good thing for Harry though. He got to have what he wanted and while he knew that was a lot, he didn’t really care that he could potentially hurt his feelings. He had made Y/N feel inadequate anyways. 

“Let me clean you up.” He murmured, smiling when she pouted when he pulled away. He was gentle with it, wiping her clean with tissues next to his bed. When she jumped, he chuckled. 

“Sensitive, I know.” He was smug about it though. Yes. He had done that. Though it was a shame she was too sensitive to clean it with his tongue. He would have been down.

The kiss was definitely something that Y/N needed. It was a nice little reminder that Harry was a gentleman and that she hadn’t just gone and done stuff with someone who was a complete asshole. Y/N always knew that Harry was a good guy, sure she’d heard rumors about him and knew he had gotten around and did drugs, but never had she heard about him being mean. Even when cleaning her up he was gentle, but of course she felt all shy again because she was laying fully exposed in front of the guy she had a crush on who had just made her cum three times within the span of 20 minutes. It was a lot. She’d completely forgotten about the fact that she was here to do an anatomy project. Y/N stayed quiet for the most part, letting him clean her up. Once she was finished she slipped on her panties again, though it felt quite dirty because they were still soaking wet. She’d need to take a shower when she got home. “Thank you.” She told him, feeling herself blush all over again.

“You’re welcome. Do you want a pair of boxers or something to wear instead of your panties?” Harry didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. At the relieved look on her face, he chuckled and went to his drawer, grabbing his smaller pair. “Here. May be big on you but, better than being uncomfortable.” He threw them to her and grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip before sitting down. “Want to do this project then?” Now that the sexual tension was at least fixed for a bit, he was happy to get to work. He wanted to see her get a good grade too. It didn’t have to be weird. 

“Oh, thanks.” Y/N smiled bashfully and stood up to change into them. There was no need for her to be all shy about it anymore. Y/N put her dirty panties to the side, taking a sip of her water bottle as well because lord knows she needed up. She was definitely a lot looser after their little activities, much more relaxed and open to talking and working. 

It really did feel better after they'd fucked around. Harry noticed that Y/N was more loose and seemed to feel more at ease now that he’s had his mouth on her pussy. They’d done a bit today and he was sure he would be on her mind for a long time after she left, which made him smug. 

----

They were finishing up when he asked for her number. “Put yours in. Dunno if you want to do this again but... I wouldn’t mind.” Harry would love it.

Y/N was already thinking about doing this again. Now that all her initial nerves were out of the way, she felt like I’d be easier for her to do things with him. She’d probably never initiate it again like this until she was this desperate, but whenever he wanted her again, if he did, she’d happily come over. She typed in her number and texted herself.

“The project or?” Y/N was a bit stupid sometimes, she didn’t want to assume he wanted to but based on the look on his face she figured he meant the other thing. “Oh, yeah— I um... I’d like that very much.” She said and finished putting her stuff away. “Thanks again... I’ll see you.” Y/N spoke when he walked her down the stairs and out the door. 

She’d left her panties in his room.

He had come upstairs to find the lovely gift that was left. Sure, it wasn’t on purpose but it was his now. He’d let her know that. They smelled like her and damn, it was good. Stuffed in his side drawer, he sat and absorbed the whole thing. Maybe he should feel guilt for having her cheat. But she needed it. The poor girl was nearly frothing at the mouth with need for sexual release and something about him tickled her. He couldn’t say no to that. Especially when she was so excited to do it and so responsive. 

Later that night he texted her. 

‘Hey, it’s Harry’

‘Did you want to come over again on Friday and work?’ He snickered at that. They’d work but... he knew by Friday she would be wanting more. 

‘Also, appreciate the gift you left. They’re lovely. Xx’ He sent a picture of the waistband of the panties in his hand.

On the bike ride home Y/N felt herself whimper every time she went over a bump. Harry had definitely done a number on her and she couldn’t have been more thankful. She texted Timmy when she got home, asking him about how he was and how his day was as usual though, she was surprised she didn’t feel really guilty. By the time she had showered and freshened up, she saw that she’d received texts back from both of them, but of course she wanted to answer Harry’s first. 

‘Hii! yeah, I can do that!’

‘oh my god 🤭’

She left them at his house? Fuck. She should have just put them in her bag but... she did have his boxers, so it didn’t really matter did it? Timmy had texted her back responding with how his day went saying he was super busy getting ready for his re-election campaign. It was his way of saying they wouldn’t really be able to hang out. She told him that she was sad but that she’d see him at school. Realistically she knew she needed to talk to him, but she wanted him to be able to tell her I’m his own time. She’d stop trying to have sex with him, only if he tried though.

‘I’ll be having fun with them. They’re in great hands. Don’t worry.’

He was smug about it for sure. But still, he couldn’t help but feel beyond happy about it because perhaps he had found a new person to fuck around with. Sure, he liked hook ups at parties but he had wanted a designated person to be around and fuck with. And Y/N was a cool chick. He hadn’t paid too much attention to her before, only to notice she was hot and also questioning why she was dating that kid. But the closer he got, the hotter she was. And fun to be around after she chilled out. She hadn’t mentioned being surprised by his room and the kind of nerdy star stuff in it. So he liked her a bit more for that. 

‘Good. Come over on Friday and we can work late. My dad’s away and my mom is on her book tour shit, so we’ll be alone, if that’s cool w you?’

Was he? He was flirting a bit wasn’t he? Y/N wasn’t exactly sure but him suggesting that his parents would be away and that they would be alone in his house again made butterflies erupt in her stomach. She was really excited to see his cats again and hang out, they’d likely finish another part of their project and likely fuck around a bit and that made her nervous all over again. 

‘Okaaay sounds good :) ’

She set her phone on her stomach and just looked up at the ceiling. Holy shit. Y/N couldn’t wait for Friday now, excited to see what else he’d have in store for her. She was simply excited to get to know him a bit more, he was hiding a lot of stuff from people from school. Of course she noticed all the astronomy shit in his room, saw the tons of books that he had with sticky notes showing they were clearly annotated. There was a lot more to him than met the eye.

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

[part 2]

A/N: Without giving too much away, yes, skater boy harry is bi and is whore for astronomy but we’ll get into that later ;) - n+d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[cafeinthemoon]

The Leaves of Her Garden – Chapter XVII

Title: The Leaves of Her Garden

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 2901

Chapter (s): 17/?

N.A.: Man I missed this face 👇 so much

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 🖤 | ▶▶

Chapter 17 - Susano’o

The first week passed and the second one came at last, and with it came the sensation that you were not going to reach the level of excellence you intended when you asked your husband to teach you the shinobi ways. It’s true that you were now up to a physical fight and could decently use small weapons, and that currently he was teaching you how to climb trees and to overcome obstacles, but that wasn’t enough, not for you. You haven’t talked about this yet, but you knew that if you wanted to offer yourself real protection, you’d need more.

This preoccupation of yours was interfering in your concentration during your daily activities and even waking you up at night. Sometimes, your heart was taken by some anxious sensation and you would stop what you were doing at the time and look around, wondering what you’d do once you’d see yourself alone in that big house, without knowing what could happen next: a house without its owner was always vulnerable, whether with or without the presence of guards.

When those episodes happened, your ears would work with twice their capacity, and you would feel you were able to hear the sound of a leaf falling outside your room; you also sensed there were people near, some of them just passing by, others standing for a while. Almost all the times they were in groups, and there were differences between these groups as well: the members of some of them had stronger presences, easier to detect, while the others felt… average.

This started by the time you initiated your training. At first you supposed to be just a consequence of the exercises, but as the days passed, it became stronger, and now you couldn’t wait to speak to your husband about it.

There was a morning when you were sitting on the porch, alone, thinking about all of this while waiting for Madara to come and take you to the garden. It didn’t take much time until you sensed his arrival: you looked aside and there he was, walking towards you and taking a sit by your side.

He greeted you with the usual kiss on your temple, but this time he made it longer, warmer, as if he sensed a necessity of assurance in you. When he spoke, you understood this was precisely the case.

- You look pensive today – you felt his fingers brushing you hair behind your ear – What is it? A bad dream? Tiredness?

You sighed, uniting your hands on your lap.

- No. It’s nothing like that. It’’s just that... There are so many things in my mind now that I don’t know where to start. The least I can say is that I’m frustrated.

- Frustrated? – he raised an eyebrow.

You just let out what was bothering you.

- It is my training. I feel like no matter how hard I work, how much I concentrate on the exercises, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I am always missing something, always not being able to perform as good as I should – you turned your eyes to him and took his hand in yours – Please, don’t think I’m saying that this has something to do with you or your methods. That’s not the case. It’s just that when I asked you to teach me, I thought I would become more…

You paused, seeking for the right word, and Madara smiled.

- You would become stronger?

- No… Not stronger, but more… assertive. Less insecure about myself. Instead, I just gained more anxiety. This… – you sighed – This wasn’t what I planned!

That was his time to sigh. Still brushing your hair, he spoke in an apologizing tone:

- Maybe I failed in not telling you that this anxiety you are experiencing is the price for a shinobi’s growth. I am sorry for that, girl.

- What do you mean?

Now he was serious, as you rarely seen him before.

- What I am telling you is that as much as you become an experienced ninja, the harder it will be for you to feel in peace, with yourself and the world. No matter how much you desire peace, you will become so used to conflict that you will soon realize you cannot live without it.

You noticed he was talking about his own life in the battlefield. You didn’t have a life like his, but you met people who had, and you could see how much it have costed to them. That wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, though.

- But I don’t want to become a soldier – you argued – I just want to protect myself.

You sensed his eyes turning on you with such intensity that you had to look away. You felt his hand caressing your hair while he spoke.

- Protecting yourself and being prepared to face conflict… They are the same thing, my girl.

You spent the next minute in silence, until Madara broke it with a question that wasn’t unexpected at all.

- Speaking of this… This anxiety you said you are feeling. Could it be anything more than just apprehension?

You raised your eyes to him, waiting for an explanation.

- Yes. I’ve been noticing your restlessness these days, and I have my suspicions about it. But I want to hear what you have to say – he narrowed the space between you, as if you were about to share some sort of secret – Tell me. Have you been noticing some strange symptoms after your lessons started?

Your first thought was to question how he knew about this, but he already answered that for you, so you just gave him a confirmation.

- Yes. Specially at night. It’s like I can… feel things happening around me. I hear the lowest sounds, I see the smallest details. I also sense when there are people around, even if they are out of my sight. When I lay down to sleep, I can feel them walking around the house. I feel when they approach and when they leave. I only fall asleep when I’m tired of feeling their presences – you turned to Madara, seeking for answers – I’ve been wanting to tell this to you, but I didn’t know how.

Your husband meditated in your words for a moment, then turned to you with an enigmatic smile.

- All of this is so interesting – he stood up, then offered his hand to you – Come with me. I have my theory about your case, but I want to try something first just to confirm it.

You accepted his hand and he helped you stand up before walking you toward the garden for your morning training.

That time you went there walking, and you honestly found it better than being teleported: you enjoyed the opportunity to appreciate the nature around you as you walked, the trees marking the way, the grass under your sandals, the small animals sneaking around the bushes. You enjoyed feeling the life revolving around you, as if you were part of it as well.

But you haven’t walked that way in days, so a difference was noticed regarding that strange transformation in your senses: the smells were stronger, the sounds were louder and even the movements were felt with an intensity that scared you. And among them, there was one that caught your attention: it was subtle, but fast, well led, as if it was planned; if it indicated someone’s presence, the person knew exactly what they were doing.

You swallowed. It was getting closer, but no sound was detected, so you couldn’t do anything about it. It could be just in your head; besides, if it was real, Madara would already have noticed, but he didn’t say anything. You approached him, trying to walk as close as him as possible, but the sensation wouldn’t go away. It would only grow, just like that night you crossed the grove, fleeing from Hiroshi.

Until it became unbearable.

You stopped, looking around with your kunai in hand.

Madara turned to you, calm as always.

- What is it, y/n?

You sensed the blade trembling in your palm and clenched your fingers tight around it.

- I don’t know – and thinking of a way to put the sensation into words – It’s like… Someone is here. Following us.

- Someone? – he came to your side, looking at your surroundings.

You shook your head to confirm and spoke lower, unsure if the person could hear you.

- It’s like when I was lost in the grove, before Izuna-sama found me. But this time is worse.

Your husband looked at you in silence, but you didn’t have time to find out the meaning behind his look: a sudden sensation of alert woke up your senses and made you move the blade before you; you couldn’t even think of what you were doing. Only when you heard the sound of metal you understood that you just deflected a kunai. You looked and saw the enemy’s weapon lying on the grass, not so far from you. The next thing you heard was a laugh. You looked ahead, worried about what you’d do next, only to find Izuna coming to join you on the ground.

- So… it was just like you told me, Aniki – he stopped beside Madara, his arms folded, in his eyes a curious gaze toward you – We have another sensor in our family.

- Yes, but she is still a baby – his brother replied with a smile – There is so much I will have to teach her, and time is not our ally now. I will do what I can, anyway.

You were lost in that conversation, and it showed in your face and in your next words:

- I am… a sensor? What does that mean? – and turning to your husband – What will you have to teach me?

Izuna laughed.

- At least she’s a curious baby, Aniki.

You gave him an irritated look.

- Please, don’t talk as if I was not here, Izuna-sama. I need to know what you are talking about if it has something to do with me.

He raised his eyebrows like someone who didn’t believe what they just heard.

- I let you alone with my elder brother for a few days and you become this audacious?

That time, Madara was the one who smiled.

- Y/n, maybe it is time for you to cut off the -sama when you speak to my brother. Izuna-kun would fit him well – and widening his smile – Or even Izuna. You choose.

You stared at him for a second before understanding what he was doing. Then you laughed.

- I don’t want to break his heart, so I think I will choose Izuna-kun!

Izuna was so angry that you thought he was going to start a fight with his brother.

- So I come here to help you, I do everything exactly as you say, and this is what I get in return? You know I can’t stand ingratitude!

- Thank you for helping me, Izuna-kun.

Your interruption was so sudden that both the Uchiha turned to you.

- Thanks to you, I understand the importance of keeping up with my training better than before – you explained – It is true that I managed to deflect the kunai you threw at my direction, but my reaction was too slow. I need to work on this.

Izuna stared at you for a moment, but soon his seriousness was replaced with a smile.

- I would never agree with this if it wouldn’t make a difference, you know?

He asked his brother permission to leave, and the other said yes. Your eyes barely followed his movements before he disappeared among the trees, but you still sensed his presence diminishing until he was out of your reach.

You turned to Madara and found him observing you with a satisfied smile.

- So we can say we both won today. I confirmed my theory and you learned a new lesson.

This second mention of a theory revived your curiosity about the previous conversation between him and Izuna.

- Tell me… What were you and Izuna-kun talking about? What is a sensor individual? I remember hearing you say you were a sensor once, but you never explained it to me. Is it… something bad?

- It depends on your current situation – he replied with a smile – If you are in the battlefield or lost in a hostile environment, persecuted by enemies, it is something good. If you are lying at night, trying to sleep, but the guards won’t stop walking around your house, it is bad.

Madara approached you and soon you felt his fingers brushing through your hair, an imitation of the chakra flowing all over your body.

- A sensor is an individual who can identify and track chakra signatures of other creatures. The signature is what you would call someone’s presence. There are countless types of sensory abilities in this world. Some people can activate and deactivate them as they please; others can’t do that and sense things all the time. There are people who can differentiate signatures of a human from an animal’s, of a child from an adult’s, or even a clan from another using their abilities. Of course one needs special training to develop such capacities, and this takes time, which we do not have right now.

- So what are we going to do about this?

He thought of it for a moment.

- From what I observed, you are the type who cannot deactivate your ability and can track people by their distance. You can also recognize some people’s signature, right?

You nodded.

- I can easily identify you and Izuna-kun. Your signatures are different than the others’. But all the shinobi’s signatures are different from the common people when I sense them. Yours are always stronger – you shrugged – That’s why it’s hard to sleep at night when I can’t help sensing the guards around the house.

With a smile, Madara passed his arms around you; you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats while he spoke.

- In this case, let’s start teaching you how to manage this – he touched the back of your head as to help you with your concentration – Instead of trying to sense everything at once, let’s try to sense one thing at a time. Starting with this.

You raised your eyes to his and held your breath when you noticed that the pattern of the Mangekyou Sharingan has appeared. You haven’t seen it since the wedding night; if he was using it this time, it could only mean something important was about to happen.

Soon you found out it was. You saw him making hand signs, still embracing you, and from his mouth came out a word you never heard before.

- Susano’o!

Before you had the time ask yourself what kind of jutsu was that, a bluish barrier quickly formed around you two. At first, you thought it was a sort of a rounded wall, but as it completed itself, it looked more like a body: firm structures surrounded it like ribs, and others above as shoulder blades. As this new body closed itself around you, it became impossible to sense anything outside it, whether it was an animal running among the trees, the birds flying or any people who eventually were at the garden’s surroundings taking care of their own tasks: the only thing you could sense was your own chakra and Madara’s, this latter seeming to extend itself to the blue structure as if they were just one.

- Do you like it? – he asked with a muffled laugh – This is the Susano’o. It works like a supreme armor, through which nothing can pass unless I want. Only the Mangekyo bearers can use this technique.

- And you are using it to block any chakra signature… – you commented while looking around, trying to see through the Susano’o’s translucent body.

- So that you will not have any distractions while you learn to manage your focus.

You didn’t reply immediately. Moving away from his arms, you walked toward the barrier, where the signature was as strong as in the center. When you stopped in front of it, the sensation was almost unbearable: you felt like it could push you back if you gave one more step at its direction. You closed your eyes and without thinking much of it, you raised your hand to touch it.

There was nothing solid in that structure, yet you couldn’t make your hand pass through it even if you tried with all your strength. You were able to see through the blue wall, but it would still obstruct your sight and modify anything you looked at.

You looked around yourself and above, where you noticed that the humanoid aspect of the Susano’o didn’t resume to the ribs – it had arms and a head too – and thought it could be the perfect prison as much as it could be the perfect resort.

You turned back to your husband, who didn’t take his eyes off you during your examinations.

- All of this… made of pure chakra… – and with a smile that managed to bring a distinct bright to his eyes – Of course I would love it. It’s beautiful.

[terry-perry]

Here We Go Again pt. 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinsdottir!Reader

Warnings: Parental angst (if that’s a thing)

OC: A.J. Rogers, Daisy Rogers, Natalie Rogers

A/N: Previous parts HERE and HERE.

Tags: @prettysatan​

Enjoy!

He didn’t know what was going on with her. At first, he thought it was about work. He knew how stressed she could get when the council couldn’t reach agreements on certain issues. But then, he began to do some more thinking. Was this about the girls leaving for that mission?

She was still having a bit of a struggle with accepting the fact that they were now part of the next generation of Avengers. They were still her babies, in her eyes. Only 17 and 19, and they were off fighting crime and putting their lives on the line to save the world. How could she not worry?

Whatever it was that was bothering her, she shouldn’t keep it all bottled up. He wanted to be there for her as best as he could.

“Thor?” Steve approached his brother-in-law at the cliffs overlooking the waters. It was always a favorite spot of the God’s who now looked over his shoulder to offer a welcoming smile.

“Something I can do for you, brother?”

Even after all these years, it felt rather strange for Steve to be referred to as such. When imagining the possibility of future in-laws, he didn’t exactly prepare himself to have any that were of royalty. And in this case, space royalty. Still, it didn’t deter him from seeing Thor as family. It was why he was coming to him, after all. 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, not knowing how else to start. “I just-- I’ve been worried about Y/N. I’m sure it’s nothing; maybe she’s just stressing out over work. But it still feels like she’s closing herself off from everyone. It’s not my business, but did she mention anything to you by any chance?”

After hearing this, Thor was now the one unsure of what to say. Guess Y/N hadn’t told him the news just yet, leading him to this suspicion. This alone made Thor want to spill everything to him, but it wasn’t his secret to tell. No matter how much it concerned Steve. 

“Well, what do you think she might be concerning herself with?” He decided to take a different route by trying to see if Steve could figure it out himself.

It seemed to have done the trick as he pushed his brows together to think about it. “The most recent thing I can think of is the last time we talked to the girls. They have to stay where they are, longer than anticipated. It’s been getting Y/N more anxious than she already was.”

“That must be it then!” Thor attempted to make it look like he came to this conclusion as well. Laying on the enthusiasm a little too thick. 

Steve didn‘t notice, thankfully. Now busy feeling guilty for what Y/N has been going through by herself. And it wasn’t that he hasn’t been missing Daisy and Nat either. He missed them like crazy. But they had jobs to do, just like the ones he and Y/N had.

He figured it was hitting her the hardest since when the kids were growing up, she had been the parent that mostly worked and stayed active even after retiring from the Avengers. He himself took on a more Fury-like role by helping to recruit new members and resolve any disputes there may be between the government and superheroes, but he still spent most of the time at home. 

Now he wanted to do what he could to help her through this emotional time.

But what?

She continued to pace around the living room, seeming to get more antsy by the minute. This was getting to be too much. Pushing on the verge of ridiculous. She just needed to be upfront about it now. 

“Mom?”

And as if she needed to add more to her inner stress...

“Darling,” she greeted A.J. as he walked in looking concerned. Deja vu. 

“What’s going on? What happened at dinner?”

“I was wondering that myself. What happened with you? You looked quite sick.”

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted, his worried stare having yet faded. “You were covering your nose and face. Was there something actually wrong with the food?”

“No,” she stated, sighing. If she was wanting to be more upfront about this, might as well start now. “The thing is...I’m pregnant.”

She could hear the way his breath caught in his throat. And if that didn’t give away his shock at the news, his suddenly big eyes certainly did. Though it only seemed to last for a second or two, his expression than changing to one of curiosity and intrigue as he glanced down at her stomach.

“Huh, that explains some things then,” he mumbled more to himself.  

She tilted her head, wondering now herself what he could mean by that. “Like what?”

His eyes went back to hers to explain. “Well, at dinner, I think I felt something like a presence? Like someone else was there besides you, me, and dad. And maybe that explains why I felt sick. Because you were feeling sick. Is that possible?”

Her confusion and worry then changed into feelings relating to elation and pride. 

“A.J.!” She squealed, approaching him with these emotions in hand. “You’ve inherited your grandmother’s gift.”

“Her gift?”

It could go without saying that Frigga was a powerful witch with many talents. Which is why it can also be said that her powerful empath abilities could easily be overlooked. It was what helped her in being a wonderful wife and mother as well as a selfless and understanding queen, beloved by all. Being able to channel others’ emotions and auras. Could A.J. have gained this skill too?

“Your grandmother was a powerful Empath that could read the feelings of others,” Y/N went on to explain. “And if powerful enough, they can take on the energy of others. Even feel things before they happen due to having a strong intuition.”

“So, like a mind reader?” A.J. asked.

“In a way. Except instead of thoughts, you’re able to read emotions. The energy level of others. Perhaps what you were sensing at dinner was the presence of your future sibling as well as my troubling emotions. Not to mention, my nausea.”

A scoffing chuckle was what she was met with along with “Well, I’m happy for about the baby and the cool stuff I gained, but I don’t know if I’m looking forward to feeling everything you’re gonna feel these next nine months.”

She was happy to learn about this new development about his son, but he certainly had a point. How would this effect him on a personal level? How did Frigga do it exactly? This wasn’t something either her or any of her siblings inherited fully. Perhaps Mantis would be able to lend hand on this, given she was an Empath herself.

“We’ll find a way to help you control your powers,” she assured him. In the meantime, she was glad that he didn’t seem put off by the other news. “So, you’re okay with the baby? Truly?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling before giving her a small, reassuring hug. “It’s a surprise, but it’s awesome. But, I take it Dad doesn’t know.”

She looked embarrassed as she shook her head. “Haven’t had the spine to tell him. Scared of how he’d react. But now I’m feeling guilty for putting it off. Doesn’t help that your Uncle Thor and Aunt Brunnhilde already know.”

She released a heavy sigh after spewing all this out. On some level, she wanted him to judge her for acting like a frightened child. But all he could give her was a sweet, comforting look that had him look so much like Steve.

“He’s gonna think this is great news,” A.J. assured her. “He’ll be shocked, sure, but he’ll be happy.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely,”

The third voice that came into the room immediately caught her off guard, realizing who it was in an instant. She spun around to find Steve had entered their home. That same reassuring and loving face.

“A.J., you mind giving us a minute alone?” Steve requested, directing his head towards the front door.

A.J. understood right away and gave one more smile before making his exit. Leaving his parents alone. One that was biting her bottom lip an fiddling with her fingers while the other wanted it to be known that everything was okay. It would be, anyway.

“How much of that did you hear?” She began with, still afraid to look him in the eye fully. 

“Only all of it,” he teased lightly with a shrug. He walked over so he pull her into his arms and let her see how genuine his happiness was, now that it was up close. “This is great, really.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she still felt the need to apologize and open to him the way a wife was meant to do with her partner. “I was scared. For many reasons, if we’re being honest. I mean, it’s been so long since we’ve been in this situation. Will we still be good at this?”

“Of course! Y/N...” he pressed her closer as he ran his hands along her sides. The way his fingers traced his back and lightly massaged her got her shivering a bit. “If we’re being honest, I’m scared too. But, it’s a good scared. Like when I realized I was in love with you. Or, even when you were pregnant the first time.” He paused to give a kiss to the top of her head. “This is gonna be great for us. We’re great parents. You, especially. It’s why I thought you were so upset in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he took a deep breath, now feeling like the embarrassed one. “I thought you were feeling depressed about the girls being gone.”

“Oh, darling. I mean, of course I wish they were here, but I know they have a job to do. I’m proud of them.”

Steve could only smile brighter as he pressed a kiss to her hand. “That right there. That’s how I know we’re going to be okay. Y/N, you care so much about the people you love and do your best to understand them. It’s why you’re such a great mom. Why I love you so much.”

Her eyes couldn’t help but fill up. He knew. It was true that most of her worry derived from her own anxiety. It’d been a mix of things like her past worry from her family’s history and how she wasn’t the most present parental figure that she wanted to be. But he was right. They got this.

“I’m so lucky,” she summed up these thoughts by simply stating that before burying her face in his chest. 

He chuckled softly and continued to hold her tight. They stayed that way a little while longer until he brought up a surprise of his own:

“We should probably head outside. I called the girls, and they managed to conjure themselves up for a visit. Let’s tell them the good news.”

[lizzielikeborden]

The Boy Next Door

Request: 3 and/or 30 from the fluff prompts list with Five Hargreeves x best friend fem!Reader pls and thank you! 😊

Character: Five Hargreeves

Prompt: Fluff-  3. “You’re everything I could’ve wanted and more.” &  30. “I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids.”

Summary: From the neighbor you were supposed to avoid as a little kid to your bestfriend. And now there you were as teenagers with your bad math homework and a plan..

You know the children in school that parents often tell each other to keep their kids away from? You never had those kids in school, but your next door neighbors. Yeah, those were the kids everyone was told to actively avoid. For a long time, well, until about the 5th grade you listened. Though they didn’t play outside during the day sometimes you could spot a Hargreeves child running about at night. You also broke the rules and stayed up past bedtime which is exactly how you saw them. One day, to your surprise, one of them noticed you sitting in your window.

 It was a beautiful night, stars in the sky, moon full and out, the air was cold and crisp. Of course you didn’t know that yet but you soon would. See, as you sat there in the window someone else was looking back. Bright eyes, black hair, big smile, but you hadn’t seen him smile. In fact you noticed him and he froze. You smiled and waved down at him as he stood a whole yard away, just staring at you instead of space. He lifted a hand and did a small wave back. After that you turned to go to bed, or at least go lay down not wanting to interrupt his night. Before you could even blink he disappeared. Then you turned around and there he was. 

“HOW DID YOU- WHO ARE YOU?” You yelped and jumped back, completely caught off guard by the fact that the boy who was just being awkward from across the way was now standing in your room.

“I’m Number Five, you can call me Five, and I am ten seconds older because I went from there to here.’ He sighed and gave you a side smile. 

“You just magically went from there to here?” You took a step toward him and raised an eyebrow.

“Not magic, spatial jump.” He corrected you.

“Why are you over here?”

“You looked like you wanted to watch the stars, so I thought I would help you go outside and see. Space is much more beautiful out there than in here.” He stepped around you and pointed to the window. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You took a happy and daring step close to him. Your eyes as big and bright as his, maybe even a little more. 

With a deep breath he took the step close to you and awkwardly put out a hand for yours. A bit shaky, you put your hand in is, in a split moment you were both outside in the cool air. The stars sparkled against his blue eyes like sunrays on a clear river. The cold air hit you with a strong chill, of course he took notice of this and wordlessly gave you his jacket. Words were absolutely mute and did not need to happen. The two of you laid down on the cold grass next to each other.  Happy. Quietly. Lovely.

That night you became the first real friend outside of his family that Five had ever had. He let you take his jacket home with you since he had so many of the same one. You thought about that night a lot, the way that the firs thing you did was realize how beautiful his eyes were in the night’s light. The way that you so willingly took his hand. But ever since then you’d been attached at the hip. You learned how to make coffee the way he liked it, he learned to braid your hair to keep it out of your face better than a ponytail or bun. You would let him appear at random times in the night to sit and talk to him about how bad his days were. And sometimes he would even settle down so much from talking that he would fall asleep on your shoulder. He read you stories in Greek and made you try coffee that he knew you wouldn’t like just to see you smile. Of course you didn’t know that, but it was true. All of these lovely little things that made you the closest of friends. You were all now about to start high school, well you were, the Hargreeves children never really went to school. Years of being friends, incredibly close friends that had some really good on and off somehow positive tension led to the day that changed everything. 

You turned on your lamp next to the desk and flashed it twice. That was how Five knew to come over and see you. The plan was simple, tell him how you feel and see what happens. Years of having donut movie nights, dancing in your room, threatening to take him to school dances, making him look at you like you were insane anytime you said anything accidentally stupid, and spending nights before his birthday with him just so you could be the first to wish him a happy birthday. Though thinking you saw his shadow from the window next door. He saw the light blink.  You then ran over to your bookbag and dragged it across the floor, taking out the math homework you did during your study hall. You pulled the chair over and sat in it, tapping your pencil against the desk. 

“Numbers 7, 14, and 17 are completely wrong, and others just need some slight adjustments. I don’t think you understand this even remotely.” A hand got placed on your shoulder and Five leaned over your work. You stood up from the chair and put a hand out toward it.

“Be my guest.” He sat in the chair and took the pencil from your hand. He began to analyze what you had done. 

You stood behind him and watched him work, he was so focused. On the other hand you were a nervous wreck, it was like air was trapped in your throat. Five could feel the anxiety radiating off of you, this was completely verified when he turned around to speak to you about how badly done your homework was. You were standing behind him just staring out the window bug-eyed. 

“Y/N?” Five spun the chair completely around and raised an eyebrow at you. “Hey.” He poked your arm and then clapped his hands softly in front of your face.

“Hm? Yeah?” You turned to him, but did not make any eye contact. 

“What’s going on?” He rose from the chair and stood infront of you. 

“I- Uhm. I need to just sit, you’re good to keep doing what you’re doing.”

“You sure you’re okay?” . 

“Yeah I am great.” You nod back and then sat on the bed whilst he took his seat back in the chair he was just in. He pretended to work on it, just twiddling the pencil between his fingers. He knew something was wrong. Then, after the dead silence, there was a small snap.

“I broke the pencil lead, i’ll be right back.” He flashed out of the room.

You shoved your head into the pillow and let out a quiet scream. Then you rolled off the pillow and groaned, 

“Yes Five, I am perfectly fine. So awesome. I just yknow have been trying to say that  I’ve been in-love with you since we were kids. You make me so happy and that tension yeah I would love to act on it. I know you aren’t really interested in people because everyone sucks and friends are hard to come by so I am sorry for saying anything. But you’re everything I could’ve wanted and more and I think we could really make each other happy in a different way but what do I know.” A pencil was heard hitting the floor, you jumped and turned to see Five standing with his mouth slightly agape.

“D-did you mean that?” He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a strangled breath. 

“I- I. Wow. You were not meant to hear that.” You hid your face with a pillow. 

“So you didn’t mean it?” You could hear pained confusion in his speech. 

“No, well yes, I did. I mean. I do.” The pillow you were holding close to your face was being pulled down. 

He took your hand off and put your hand in his, “You are such an idiot.” He joked.

“Is that you saying you love me back and that all of our memories mean so much to you and you wanna be with me.” You laughed and he pulled you by your arm close to him.

“Yes. That is exactly what I meant.” He smiled and you could tell he meant every word you just said...

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 17

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 17

Chapter Summary: We'll get through this, I promise.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: I'm almost 100% sure this is legally inaccurate. It's a work of fiction, though so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Also, vomiting and mentions of anxiety/poor mental state. Mentions of prior abuse.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15} {Chapter 16}

Lawyers, attorneys, case building, legal proceedings and court dates all swam around Faye's head to the point she was dizzy. Henry had taken immediate action and gotten in touch with his legal team right away, ultimately being referred to someone more specialized in custody cases who agreed to work with Faye's sister on the case. He as not about to let that slime ball come back after years and take their baby from them.

First, they had to file for Faye to be the sole parent and guardian of Briar, sighting the years long abandonment for terminating any rights he may have had. Then, they had to gather up everything they could proving he was an unfit father, picking at old wounds that Faye would rather be left alone. All she'd had to do was get in contact with her sister and within minutes she had over a dozen pictures of just as many occasions with Faye battered and bruised, or with her fingers in casts, or her lip split. Faye hadn't even known her sister had been taking them, but she had also blocked out a lot of that time of her life. Her sister had always been the more responsible level headed one anyway. She'd probably taken them just in case something like this ever happened.

Her sister had also filed for a restraining order against him on her behalf. She knew what kind of person he was and having a legal order of protection against him was a solid idea. It prevented him from intimidating Faye or trying to just take Briar.

Overall, they were assured by almost everyone that he stood no chance. He had walked out of her life before she was even born and never tried to be in contact since. No judge in their right mind would listen to a word he had to say.

That did very little to settle Faye's anxiety. Over the next few weeks Henry would often find her crying silently, her mind a million miles away dwelling on the what ifs. Briar had moved to sleeping in their bed the same night they had gotten the letter, more for Faye's sake than anything else. Having her daughter close was one of the few things that calmed her down anymore. Henry had tried everything he could think of to take her mind off of what was happening, but with little success. All it would take is one look at Briar and Faye would start tearing up again.

Faye had gotten so bad she would barely eat. She would only pick at her food, nibbling on a few bites here and there. Henry could tell she was losing weight, but he was unable to convince her to actually eat more. She just kept telling him she felt sick all the time. A few times she had even worked herself up into such an anxious mess that she was physically sick. Henry had yet to meet her ex, but he knew he hated him more than he had ever hated anyone in his life. Whoever that slime ball was, he had severely crossed the line. The woman he loved was a wreck because of him, something had to be done.

Henry took it upon himself to pack everyone for the trip to the states, not wanting to add anymore stress to Faye if he didn't have to. Briar had been given Dramamine before the flight and again almost halfway through to keep her from getting sick. Faye's chronically empty stomach faired far worse. She was in and out of the small airplane bathroom, Henry dutifully following each time as she brought up bile or nothing at all, her stomach desperate to rid itself of contents it didn't even have. She even threw up the Dramamine he'd gotten her to take. It was times like this he was eternally grateful he was able to fly privately. The entire flight would have been a nightmare if they had to deal with other passengers at the same time.

He had booked the biggest suite he could within a reasonable distance of the court house where hearings were meant to be held. They wanted to have some privacy before everything happened, though they were planning on staying with Faye's parents afterwards until they went back home. Faye wanted to be impressed and thankful for everything he was doing for her and her daughter, once again, but she didn't have the energy to do much more than squeeze him tight, resting her weary head against his strong chest.

"It'll be alright, darling. No one is going to take our princess away." Henry assured, tilting her head up to kiss her gently.

"It's just dredging up so many bad memories." Faye admitted shakily, wiping her eyes before more tears could fall. Between throwing up and crying she was sure she was dehydrated, her head pounding in synch with her heart to prove it.

"I know, but they're in the past now."

"But they're not." Faye hiccupped, hiding her face in his chest again. "All of this is happening right now."

"This is the last time he is going to have any contact with either of you. Go and take a long shower, darling. Try to relax. You need your sleep."

"I know I look awful." Faye sighed, reluctantly stepping away from him.

"Just as beautiful as ever." Henry corrected, digging through the bags to find Faye's shower bag and something for her to change into. While she was in the bathroom, Henry convinced the half asleep toddler to get ready for bed, handing her a pair of zip up pajamas along with her diaper, reminding her to go potty before he would zip her up.

The child was tucked into the middle of one of the beds, hugging her stuffed bunny tightly and falling asleep almost instantly. Henry went to check on Faye once he was sure she was asleep, smiling softly when he saw her stepping out of the shower.

"Feeling any better?"

"Not really." Faye sighed, letting Henry take the towel from her and dry her off.

"It will be over soon, I promise." Henry assured, pulling one of the shirts she had stolen from him over her head.

"Not soon enough."

~*~

"She ran out as soon as she found out she was pregnant. I tried to track her down for years, but I never could find her. That's the only reason I haven't been in my daughter's life. I could never find an address for either of them. She just vanished."

Faye felt her skin crawl at his words, physically shrinking away from him the moment he laid eyes on her. Everything just came flooding back, and suddenly she was right where she was years ago, having to put up with his lies and manipulations. She could feel more bile threatening to creep up her throat every time she looked at him.

"As you can see, the defendant never filed for sole custody of the child until very recently. It is our belief that she is using the child against my client for some perceived wrongs. She has even fled the country to make sure that my client has no access to the child."

"Alright. Miss Warren?" The judge shifted his attention to the other side of the room. "Is the plaintiff the biological father of the child?"

"Yes." Faye answered softly.

"And did you try to reach out to him after the birth of the child?"

"No, I did not. He left the second he found out I was pregnant. He avoided my attempts to contact him up until I gave birth. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with us."

"And did you in fact leave the country with the child in an effort to avoid contact with the plaintiff?"

"No. I left because I had a job offer in another country. My daughter came with me, because she is my daughter."

"Your honor, if I may?" Delilah stepped in, squeezing her sister's hand supportively.

"Go ahead Miss... Warren."

"As you can see from the documents I have provided, my client has only moved three times in the last five years. The first was into an apartment in the same town she resided in with the plaintiff before their split. She held a lease in that same apartment until a year and a half ago when she moved to England. She only recently moved from there into a home that she shares with her current boyfriend. For the plaintiff to be unable to locate my client, he would have had put little to no effort into actually looking for her."

"Does Mr. Young have any evidence of him attempting to locate the defendant? What efforts did he make?"

"My client did the searching by himself, there is no paper trail of his efforts."

"So you cannot provide any evidence of his attempts to locate the defendant or the child in question?"

"No your honor."

"Now, Miss Warren... the lawyer, do you have a statement to make?"

"Yes, your honor. As you can see from the documents I have provided you with, my client suffered abuse at the hands of the plaintiff for years. There are not only pictures of the injuries, but also documentation from several emergency room visits due to 'blunt force trauma' along with multiple domestic violence reports against the plaintiff. The plaintiff left shortly after my client revealed her pregnancy and no attempts to contact my client or the child in question are able to be confirmed. Tell me, Mr. Young. If you were so invested in your unborn child, what was the child's expected due date? On what day did my client suffer a miscarriage of one of the children she was carrying? What do you even know about the child you want in your life so badly now?"

"I don't know anything, that bit- the defendant kept her from me."

"Kept her from you, or you didn't try to make any contact?"

"I tried to make contact!"

"Enough, Mr. Young." The judge sighed, leaning back to look at the papers in front of him. "Tell me Miss Warren, what does the child in question know about the plaintiff?"

"Nothing." Faye replied softly. "She didn't have a father in her life."

"Would it be alright if we spoke to the child?" The judge asked, looking over to where Briar sat in the back of the room, playing with her stuffed bunny under Henry's watchful eye.

"Briar?" Faye called, the child popping up and running over to her mother. "Would you be ok talking to everyone?"

"Ok, Mama!" Briar eagerly accepted, scurrying over to the chair she had seen everyone else take a turn sitting in.

"Hello Briar." The judge greeted, smiling warmly at the child.

"Hi." Briar giggled, squeezing her bunny to her chest.

"I like your bunny. He is very well behaved."

"We be good." Briar confirmed, nodding her head surely.

"Now, Briar, can you tell me about your family?"

"Yeah! I have my mama and that my aunt Lilah! I see Nana and Grampy on the phone too! Oh! And I met Papa family too! We play in the big yard, then we all went to sleep in the couch room and they were all giggling, but I was good!"

"You met your Papa's family?" The judge asked, his brow furrowing.

"I like Papa family." Briar giggled.

"Mr. Young, has the child had contact with your family?" The judge asked.

"Yes, she has recently met my family."

"Mama?"

"Hold on sweetie, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Delilah." Faye rushed out, turning her terrified eyes to her sister. "What is he doing? Briar has never met his family. I've never met his family!"

"I thought he just congealed in a gutter somewhere. What is Briar talking about? Who's family did she meet?" Delilah whispered back.

"Henry's. She calls him Papa, we met them just a few weeks ago."

"That's kind of adorable, we will circle back to that after we deal with this douchebag. Can you prove she's never met dingus's family?"

"We've only been back in the States for two days. I don't even know where his family lives. Like I said, I never even met them!"

"That's something. Where's her passport?" Delilah mumbled to herself, shifting through the various papers in front of her.

"Papa? Papa, I gotta go!" Briar whimpered, squirming in her seat.

"I'll take you since Miss Warren is too busy." David quickly offered, popping up and reaching for the child before anyone else had a chance to react.

"No!" Briar screamed, kicking and wiggling when he picked her up. "No! Not Papa! Not Papa! Help! Mama!"

"Hey, it's me. It's Papa!" David tried, attempting to wrangle the thrashing child.

"NOT PAPA! WANT HENRY PAPA!" Briar screeched, hitting him in the face with her stuffed bunny.

"David, put her down! You're scaring her!" Faye yelled, anxious tears welling in her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was her heart in her throat, or if the water she'd been sipping on was trying to make a reappearance. The sight of him touching her daughter was enough to make her sick.

"Mr. Young!" The Judge barked, finally succeeding in getting him to release the struggling child. Briar dashed to the back of the room, throwing her arms around Henry's legs, frantically trying to climb him as she cried.

"Hey, it's ok Princess." Henry soothed, lifting her up and holding her tight. "Can you go and sit by Mama after you go potty?"

"NO!" Briar squealed again. "Papa stay! Bad man! Mama!" Briar blubbered almost incoherently, squeezing her bunny tight as she gasped between sobs.

"Ok, ok. I'll be right here. I'll make sure the mean man doesn't touch you or Mummy again, I promise." Henry assured, grimacing when he felt a warm wetness soaking through his shirt. "Princess? Did you have an accident?" Henry asked her quietly, glaring daggers at the other man when she shakily nodded her head.

"He... he scare me."

"I know, it's alright. We'll get you cleaned up, ok?"

"Your honor, may I ask the child a question?" Delilah ventured, standing up and placing her hand on Briar's back to get her attention. "Briar, who is your Papa?"

"Papa." Briar sniveled, hiding her snotty, tear stained face in Henry's neck.

"Your honor, as you can see from the copy of the child's passport, she has only been back in the United States for just over two days. She has never met the plaintiff's parents in her life. She is clearly terrified of him, too. Can we please stop all this nonsense?"

"I've heard all I need to." The Judge decided, turning to look at David. "Mr. Young, you have lied to me several times and provided me no substantial evidence regarding any of your claims. The child does not feel safe with you, and for good reason considering the numerous cases of domestic violence against you. Your parental rights are hereby terminated, and the defendant's request for an order of protection is granted, effective immediately."

"You can't be serious!" He growled, turning his furious eyes to the judge.

"I am very serious, Mr. Young. Even if you did genuinely want to be in the child's life, your previous convictions against the defendant prove you to be unfit to care for her." The Judge continued.

"She's ok." Faye breathed shakily, finally forcing herself to stand on shaky legs, Henry instantly wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her.

"I told you everything would be ok." Henry whispered, kissing her forehead softly. "No one is taking our princess away."

"I sorry Mama. I had accident." Briar sniffled.

"It's ok baby. Did you pee on the mean man?"

"Uh-hu. He scary." Briar mumbled. "No sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to him." Henry assured. "How about we go back to the hotel and get you a bath? We can go out for ice cream after."

"Please." Briar whimpered, continuing to hide in Henry's neck.

"No need to be upset. You're not in any trouble." Faye soothed.

"How about you? How are you doing?" Henry asked Faye, gently leading her out the door.

"Better? I don't know. I'm happy but still so anxious." Faye admitted.

"After all of this I don't blame you, but it's over now, darling. It's all over."

Faye and Briar ended up sharing a long bath when they got back to the hotel, giving Henry time to use the exercise room to relieve some of his own tensions. He had no idea what he would have done if they had been ordered to share custody. He hadn't known the little girl for very long, but she was still his world. He was willing to give up anything if it meant keeping his family together.

When he had gotten back to the hotel room, both of his girls were dressed, Briar happily attempting to dry her mother's hair while she sat on the floor, calling out directions to the little girl. She handed the dryer off to her mother as soon as she saw Henry, happily throwing her arms around his legs.

"You back!"

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm back." Henry chuckled, picking her up and kissing her forehead. "You have to try harder than that to get rid of me."

"Ewww! Papa you smelly!" Briar whined, covering her nose with both hands.

"The audacity!" Henry gasped, hugging her even tighter, laughing when she groaned in protest. "I in no way smell like a sweaty gym sock."

"You icky, Papa!" Briar repeated, pushing his face away with one hand, the other covering her nose. "You take a bath. I get you toys!" She decided, wiggling to be let down. Both adults nodded along as Briar monologued her choices in what Henry should take with him, tossing each one into the tub. She had decided upon a rubber duck, a wash cloth, a Captain America action figure, a horse figurine, the hotel mouthwash and carefully placed his razor on the side of the tub, sternly reminding him not to cut his hair again.

"Ok, princess. Promise I won't cut my hair again." Henry agreed for what had to be the hundredth time since he'd had to cut his hair for work months ago.

"Briar, how about we go finish getting ready, and then when Papa's done, we can all go see Nana and Grampy?" Faye offered, wincing at the decibel of the scream that erupted from the little girl's chest.

"NANA! GRAMPY!" She cheered, racing past her mother, digging through her bag to look for her shoes.

"You might want to hurry, I don't know how long I can keep her here." Faye chuckled, her brows crinkling when she saw the look on Henry's face. "What? You said you were ok with meeting my parents..."

"No, it's not that. That's the first time I've seen you laugh in weeks." Henry pointed out, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I'm trying to do better. Sorry I've been miserable to be around."

"Don't apologize for how you feel. Anyone would be upset if they had to go through that. I want you happy again, but I don't want you to force it. I want you to be really happy."

"Well, you can make me happier if you showered. The man stink is overwhelming." Faye teased, Henry rolling his eyes at her. "I see how it is, right back to teaming up on me. Just so you know, Kal is usually on my side."

"Guess we'll have to have a tiebreaker then." Faye shrugged, smirking as she left him alone in the bathroom with a shocked smile on his face.

When they finally arrived at Faye's parents home, Briar was about to burst from her seat in excitement. Faye barely got her out of the car before she was scurrying up the front steps, frantically ringing the doorbell. Faye followed behind her daughter, relaxing even more once she was in the familiar surroundings.

Delilah was the one to answer the door, her hair still up in it's sleek, professional updo, though she had changed into more comfortable clothes once she had gotten back to her parent's house. Briar audibly groaned when she saw her aunt for the second time that day.  "Aunt Lilah! Where Nana?"

"She's in the kitchen, waiting on you." Delilah laughed, moving out of the child's way and wrapping her sister in a hug. "Told you we'd get through this."

"My sister, always there to save my ass."

"And you thought law school was a stupid idea."

"You said the same thing about art school, and look what it got me." Faye teased, nodding at Henry as he made his way up the stairs.

"Ok, you got me there. No one in my law firm looks anything like that. All the ones that ask me out for drinks are fat, bald and married."

"Is that where your standards are now?"

"Basically." Delilah laughed, ushering the two inside.

"Faye!" A short older woman cheered, bustling in from the back of the house with Briar on her hip.

"Hi Mom!" Faye greeted, pulling away from Henry to hug her mother. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my partner, Henry."

"Partner?" Her mother questioned, giving her daughter a strange look.

"It just sounds better than 'boyfriend'. More sophisticated."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Warren." Henry cut in, offering his hand to her only to be pulled into a surprisingly tight bear hug.

"Now, now! We hug around here!"

"Papa give good hugs!" Briar giggled.

"Yes, he does." The older woman agreed, patting his shoulder before venturing back into the house.

"Dad is around here somewhere. Probably break-fixing something." Faye mumbled, taking a quick glance around in an attempt to discern where he was.

"Just follow the sound of objects crying, you'll find him." Delilah laughed. "I think he said something about fixing the ceiling fan in the gremlin's room."

"Which one are you staying in?" Faye asked.

"I'll bite the bullet and sleep in the gremlin room. Not very often you have the chance to score in your childhood bedroom." Delilah teased, Henry shifting his gaze uncomfortably anywhere else.

"Like that isn't what happened when we visited your parents." Faye scoffed, grabbing his hand to lead him down the hallway.

"That's different." Henry mumbled, hefting their bags up as she pulled him away.

"How?"

"They're my family. There's not much I could do by now that one of us hasn't done before."

"Relax, I'm pretty sure my sister knows we've had sex by now. I would know, I told her."

"Only good things I assume?"

"Well the conversation started with me telling her she gave me the wrong size condoms when I moved away."

"Wonderful." Henry sighed, fighting back a laugh when he was led into a room with two twin beds against opposing walls.

"If you want I can help you push those together." A voice from behind offered. "Hi, I'm the dad."

"Hello, sir. I'm Henry." He greeted, setting the bags down and offering his hand, the other man gripping it firmly and resting his other hand on his elbow, giving a curt nod.

Faye's father wasted no time in sequestering Henry off into a different bedroom to hold up the ceiling fan while he worked on it. Henry wasn't sure what he was doing, and he had a feeling he didn't know what he was doing himself. He was either trying to find a bad wire, or attempting to electrocute both of them.

Faye and her sister had wandered back to the living room, curling up on the couch with her head in her sister's lap catching up on everything that had happened while they had been apart. Delilah had been killing it in her law firm, to say the least. She'd bought her first condo and a cat to go with it. The cat hated her, despite her many attempts to befriend the feline now sharing her home.

Briar spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen with her Nana, 'helping' her make cookies and brownies. Naturally, she had to sample everything that was being made. She also got sole ownership of the spatula, and she made sure everyone knew it, loudly yelling it to the rest of the house.

They weren't all back in the same room again until dinner time, Briar happily explaining to Henry that she had been the one to make the 'sketti' as she kept calling it. He had doubts to the validity of that statement. He also quickly figured out where Faye had learned to cook. Faye finally did more than pick at her food, actually inhaling three plates of her favorite comfort dish. After they had all stuffed themselves, the three travelers decided to head to bed, the combination of jet lag, the day's events, and the amount of carbs they had just consumed almost putting them into a coma at the table.

Briar went straight into the room at the end of the hall as soon as her pajamas were on, happily leaping onto the giant canopy bed. Surrounding it were stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes, along with tumble mats, a slide, a small ball pit, a mini trampoline and the biggest dollhouse Henry had ever seen. One wall was a chalkboard, several of Briar's artworks still decorating it from the last time she was there, the other walls were painted a soft purple, her name written in big silver letters on the wall behind the bed, peering proudly through the posters of the canopy.

"It's her room at my parent's house." Faye shrugged.

"Tell me again how I'm the one that spoils her?"

"There's more stuff in here now than there used to be."

"No there's not!" Delilah called from down the hall, Faye shooting an annoyed look over her shoulder.

"They're her grandparents, they're supposed to spoil her."

"Is this the biggest room in the house?"

"It used to be our playroom. Dad wanted to turn it into a home theater before I had Briar."

"Papa, watch!" Briar gasped, picking up a remote and turning on the TV mounted on the wall across from her bed.

"A TV of her own in her room." Henry half laughed. "And I get yelled at for sneaking her a biscuit!"

"You sneak her cookies just before dinner!"

"Your mother has been stuffing her with cookies since we got here."

"She hasn't seen her in a while?"

"That settles it, until I end up getting that kid her own pony I don't want to hear another word about me spoiling her." Henry snorted.

"She asked you for a pony, didn't she?"

"It's come up." Henry confirmed, tucking the sleepy, squirmy child in tightly with her bunny under her arm.

"She's not getting a pony." Faye grouched, kissing her daughter's forehead.

"But I want a pony." Briar pouted.

"Where will you keep a pony?"

"The stable where Papa ride horseys."

"You know, Mommy is pretty sure she asked Papa not to take you out there." Faye grouched accusingly, glaring at Henry as he pointedly avoided her gaze.

"She started crying." Henry mumbled, giving her a pathetic look. "I can't say no when she's that upset. It was just the once, I promise. She only pat them, she didn't get on a single horse."

"Wanna ride horsey."

"Anything else you do that I should know about?" Faye asked, raising a brow at her boyfriend.

"I leave my underwear on the bathroom floor every night then put them in the hamper each morning before you wake up."

"Strangely specific."

"It has been eating me up inside for ages. I finally feel free."

It felt like no time at all that Faye was curled up in her old bed, Henry sleeping in the one that used to be her sisters. It felt like even less time before she was jerked out of sleep, her stomach protesting strongly, bile rising into her throat. She jumped out of bed and rushed across the hall to the bathroom, not even taking the time to turn on the lights before violently emptying herself of everything she had eaten that day. Henry was right there only a few seconds later, having been awoken by her frantic rush to the bathroom. He held her hair back at the base of her neck, rubbing her back softly and trying to focus on anything other than her vomiting. He should have been used to it after Faye being literally worried sick for weeks, but the smell got to him every time.

"I think I ate too much." Faye whimpered, using some tissue to wipe her mouth and tossing it into the bowl, flushing it along with everything she'd just thrown up.

"You haven't eaten much in weeks, darling. Maybe you should try pacing yourself more?" Henry suggested, slowly helping her to her feet to rinse her mouth out.

"I know, but I just love my mom's spaghetti so much." Faye whined.

"I'm sure she'll make it again if you just ask her."

"Well that seems obvious now."

"Think you can go back to bed?" Henry asked, leading her back across the hall at her small nod.

After another two days of feeling nauseous, they had all come to the conclusion that her immune system must have been weakened by the stress of everything and caused her to catch some stomach bug. After a week and a half, she was wondering what kind of super bug she had managed to contract. The only time she could keep food down was when she would nibble at things throughout the day. Just how long would it take for her stomach to get used to food again before she could keep it down? She'd hoped she would be able to stomach something more substantial on their last full day with her family, muscling down her mother's homemade waffles until lunchtime. Two bites of mashed potatoes was all it took to tip her over the top, landing right back in the bathroom with Henry holding her hair back.

Thankfully they had noticed the pattern of small bits of food staying down in time for them to fly back to England. The fatigue of her being sick, along with how emotional she was about not being able to actually spend as much time with her family as she would have liked while she was there had her sleeping almost the entire flight. That left Henry dealing with Briar's motion sickness. He was slowly becoming convinced his entire world would be nothing but vomit for the foreseeable future. Faye finally gets to where she can eat just fine, only for Briar to be throwing up kool-aid and vanilla wafers while her mother got some well deserved rest. It was a good thing he loved his girls, otherwise he may begin to resent them soon.

@weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay  @nostalgicb-txh

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