#always minimizing her feelings and her past and her hurt because it's too scary too ugly

[a-rivederlestelle]

kinda feeling like i'll never be over all of the parallels in imogen and laudna relationship and in their arcs, all of the coincidences?? and episode 37 just brought so much of it together even more???

imogen and laudna, both farmgirls who grew up so lonely. ostracized for inherent powers they didn't understand and had no resources to learn about. both then haunted by external powers they don't understand, but cannot escape. (spoilers under the cut)

imogen, isolated because she hears everything from the people around her, knowing they're often not what they claim.

laudna, isolated because everyone is scared of her because she is undead, never caring to know who she really is.

but then, across decades and continents, they meet. imogen, who can hear laudna's kindness and believes in her heart. laudna, who had dealt with stranger, more malicious magics and knows what a voice in her head with ill-intent is actually like.

imogen's nightmares plague her openly, laudna buries hers deep inside.

laudna offers to enter imogen's nightmares, her trauma, with her. "no one should have to walk into the storm alone."

but then laudna dies. and imogen believes it is her fault. and she admits, of her own powers and marks, "as soon as i realized i could defend, like when i defended laudna when she came to town, it was proof that i was stronger than i thought i was. but now, it just feels like evidence."

laudna dies. and to save her, imogen travels with their friends across cities and continents and planes of existence to find her, to fight for her.

imogen walks through laudna's nightmares, her trauma, without her. calling to her, the only one able to hear these fragments of her. "we're gonna get you home, okay? we're here now. we'll help."

imogen asks if laudna can get free of the tree and laudna says, "i think that'll depend on you, darling."

imogen, narrowly being missed by what absolutely would have been the last hit against her, raises her hands and her eyes flash white and she uses this power that is both her strength and her burden, this power that put laudna in this danger in the first place, this power that she has time and time again used to defend laudna, to protect her, and she deals the final blow to the tree, to delilah, and frees laudna's soul.

[ghostlychief]

Ivy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of being cheated on; angst; minimal drinking; hurt/comfort; also sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes!!

Summary: Sometimes, old wounds don’t heal properly, even when you think they do. Past insecurities come to light when you see a woman try her best to flirt with you boyfriend, Simon. You can’t help it when insecurities of the past seep into your mind, clouding your judgement.

A/N: OK so this was a request from @cheezitwh0re but i accidentally deleted my original post answering your request (I’M SO UPSET😭😭😭). Anyways, the request asked for a fic about Simon finding out that you were cheated on in a past relationship after you become uncomfortable with him speaking to a woman.

Also, in your request, it sounded like this was something you’ve been through before, I’m so sorry that happened to you, and hope you’re doing alright <3

I hope you enjoy and hope that I did your request justice!

- Lee <3

--

You really pride yourself in taking the steps to heal from your last relationship; you do. You went to a therapist to talk about the problems that were present in that relationship, and talked through all the trust issues you still held within you. It took a long couple of years to thoroughly work through all your shit, but you did it, and you came out the other side a new person, with a new perspective on relationships. In other words, you were ready to get back out there; date. A scary word for someone who lost their faith in a past lover.

So, by the time you and Simon started dating, you thought you had all your shit figured out, and that nothing from your past relationship would seep into this one, marking it with at stain. Little did you know that your past trauma was still present, although much more diminished than before; a seedling of some sorts just waiting for the right atmosphere to take root and grow.

--

You and Simon have been dating for a little over nine months now. While you weren’t on taskforce 141, you did work at the same base where the unit trained and stayed, when not assigned to a mission. You were a technical analyst, and you crossed paths with Simon every once in a while. Although you guys never really spoke to one another, you would always capture his eyes with yours, mystified by the man behind the mask.

There was also a part of you that was just physically attracted to him. No one can blame you either, he’s 6’4, massive, and is built like a Greek god. So really, all you needed to do was get to know him a bit better, to see if your personalities worked well together.

You knew a little bit about him before you ever actually talked to the man; only because you were assigned on some missions with 141, only you did not go out into the field, and instead, worked at the base, behind your computer.

You knew he was a lieutenant, had a deep voice, and kept to himself. That was about it. It’s not like the man shared much about himself during meetings, debriefs, or team bonding time. It’s not actually team building time- something you came to learn after your first “session.” No, it was really a time for the team to get a bunch of alcohol and drink together. It was during these “team bonding sessions” that you figured this was your best bet at breaking down Simon’s walls.

Listen, you have respect for boundaries, so of course you weren’t going to try and bother him too much. You were just curious, that’s all. Plus, you had formed quite the crush, and you couldn’t help the feeling of your heart pounding in your chest whenever you saw him, or even when someone mentioned his name.

You’re also not the only woman on the base whose attention has been directed at Ghost, and definitely not the only one with a crush. Does that bother you? Just a little, but you really had no claim over him anyways, so how mad can you really be?

You did have an advantage though, seeing that you consistently got assigned to task 141, and therefore, were invited to their drinking shenanigans.

So, when the next team bonding session rolled around, you had a plan and were ready to set it in motion.

Basically, your plan was to get a little tipsy to work up the courage to go over and talk to Ghost, like officially. You don’t even know if he knows your name, or who you are.

The night was off to a good start- Soap invited you to take a couple of shots with him and Gaz, something you immediately accepted. You cheered to another end of a successful week and downed your shots. You talked with them for a bit, catching up on nominal things, but you enjoyed the chatter.

Though, the whole time, you were distracted; the silhouette of a certain 6’4 man in your periphery.

You were itching to go over to him at this point, but you didn’t want to be rude.

Soap must have picked up on your fidgety nature, because before you knew what was happening, he was calling Ghost over, asking him to take a shot with the three of you.

Well damn.

You couldn’t escape this, not without seeming weird or like you were avoiding him or something.

You hear Ghost walk over; he’s standing next to you now and you can smell his cologne. He smells like fresh rainfall and cedar-wood.

“What are we toasting to, Johnny?” You each have your shot in your hand now.

Soap thinks for a second, “Let’s toast to our new technical analyst, Y/n. Always a pleasure working with you, lass.” He gives you a wink then everyone cheers, “To y/n!”

After you all take your shot, Soap and Gaz run off to who knows where, leaving you and Ghost alone. This might have been the first time you guys were alone with each other, and the silence was deafening.

But before you could say anything, Ghost beat you to it, “I don’t think we ever formally met. I’m Ghost, and I’m assuming you’re Y/n.” He sticks out his hand towards you, and in that moment, you liked to think that he was also smiling at you under his balaclava.

You smile up at him, grasping his hand with yours. “You assumed correctly. Nice to meet you too.”

He nods his head, then releases your hand. You liked the way his hand fit with yours.

Much to your surprise, you two spent the whole night talking and drinking, and by the end of the night you found yourself a new friend.

After that night, it was more common to find you and Ghost chatting, sometimes before meetings, or after debriefs. Over the next few months, you grew closer to the Lieutenant, and eventually you started dating. Something that you never thought would actually happen. But you were happy, excited to be in a new relationship, especially with Simon.

Although he was quiet and seemed to have a thousand walls surrounding him, you came to learn that he was actually really sweet and gentle. Nothing you would have ever suspected. Sure, you guys had your little spats here and there. You guys were still working on your communication. You, trying to give Simon space when he needed it, and Simon, not to immediately shut down when there was a problem.

Things were going well, and before you knew it, nine months flew by.

--

Did you get some glares throughout the base when it was known that you and Simon were a thing? Possibly. You tried not to let them get to you. He was with you, he loved you. Nothing else mattered, or should matter.

Before you could realize what was happening, old habits from your past relationship started to seep through your behaviors, thoughts, and perceptions of you and Simon’s relationship. The trauma of the past had taken root, quietly and without you knowing, and its vines started to grow within you, threatening to consume you completely.

It was too late when it all came to a head at one of the team’s nights out. The vines grew thick and threatened to choke you before you even know what was happening.

You all were gathered and occupying space in an abandoned warehouse on base that is no longer in use, drinks in hand. You were sitting next to Ghost, his hand on your thigh, every once in awhile his hand would give you a reassuring squeeze. It was his way of letting you know that he was still there, present, with you.

You emptied your drink, so you got up to pour yourself another. While at the table which held all the assortments of alcohol and chasers, you ran into Price. He started talking to you, so of course you stayed and you ended up talking to him for about 10 minutes.

When you turn around to make your way back over to Ghost, you notice that your seat has been taken, by a woman who you vaguely recognize. You really only recall her because she’s one of them who have a not-so-subtle affixation on Ghost. And her liking to your boyfriend did not waver nor disappear when you started dating him. No, if anything it was even more strong, and she tried everything she could to get his attention. She even occasionally makes digs at you in passing. Something you’ve come to ignore since all she’s looking for is a reaction and no way in hell were you going to give her one, no matter how deep her words cut.

Your blood boiled at the sight of them talking. She was turned towards him, with a big smile on her face and you could tell she was flirting, at least trying to. Ghost was still facing forward, not really paying much attention to her, and when his eyes caught you walking back over, his posture immediately straightened and his eyes lit up; almost as if in relief.

You were blinded by anger and hurt, so none of Ghost’s mannerisms clued you in to the fact that he wasn’t enjoying the conversation with the woman at all. No, it blew completely past you.

When you finally approach them, you’re standing in front of Ghost.

“Oh, good. Y/n, I was just talking to Camila here; she works in supply chain.” Ghost gestures towards apparently Camila.

“I don’t think we’ve officially met, I’m Y/n.” You try to keep your voice level, but this proves challenging.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around.” You can’t help but hear the bite in her voice as she addresses you, and her sinister smile says it all.

At this point you’ve had enough. Who is she to be talking to you like this? “Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed, I have an early start tomorrow.”

You see Ghost turn his head towards you, confusion laced in his eyes.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday though?” Camila’s annoying voice once again permeates the air, taunting you.

You try not to roll your eyes, and quite frankly you’re on the verge of tears. The combination of the long week, mixed in with all the doubts that have been swarming your head about you, and your relationship becoming overwhelming.

You decide to just ignore her, and turn towards your boyfriend. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you voice, “I’m gonna head up, ok?” You give him a kiss on the forehead and you hope that he doesn’t catch the tears that’s been collecting in your waterline.

You turn around and head back to your room, trying to forget that Camila is still sitting with your boyfriend. You don’t turn back when you hear her chair scrap on the floor, indicating she moved closer to him.

--

You didn’t expect for Simon to get back until much later, so you’re surprised when only 15 minutes have passed since you’ve been back in your room, and you hear him knocking on the door.

“Hey, it’s me. Open up.”

You’ve been crying, so you hastily wipe your tears, but its to no avail, your eyes are red and puffy and you know he’s going to see right through you.

You trudge over to the door and open it.

Simon enters, and he walks past you, hands on his hips.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“What do you mean?” You’re being stubborn, you know. But it’s taking everything in you to not start yelling and crying even though you know he did nothing wrong.

“C’mon, Y/n. Don’t be like this, I know you’re upset and have been crying. Talk to me.” He turns around and although worry coats his face, faint traces of annoyance start to show.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It seems like you were having a great conversation back there, sorry to interrupt.”

He lets out a sigh. “That’s what this is about? Camila?”

You burst, “Of course it is! Do you think I’m stupid? Half the women on the base have a crush on you or want to fuck you. I have to put up with glares everywhere I go, and, with women fawning over my boyfriend. Do you know how exhausting that is?

And how do I not know you’re entertaining them?”

Now he scoffs, “Wow, you think that little of me, huh? Why don’t you trust me? I have done nothing to lose your faith in me.”

You look up at him to find his lips turned down, eyes hooded, and you know you fucked up, letting your insecurities from the past blind you from what was right in front of you.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you make your way over to your bed, and sit down, head in your hands.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just- I was cheated on -multiple times- in my last relationship and I guess the wounds from that haven’t completely healed, even though I thought they did. I even saw a therapist and worked through everything, well, tried to, I guess.”

The bed dips, and  you feel Simon wrap a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

He leaves a kiss on your forehead, “Well shit, Y/n. I wish you would have told me that sooner. I’m sorry you went through that in your past relationship, but we can work through this together, alright? You don’t have to try and deal with this on your own.

“We’re a team after all.” His arm squeezes you, smushing you into him even further.

You sniffle, “We are?”

He brings his other hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your head so you can look at him properly. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I love you, ok?” He gives you another reassuring squeeze.

You hum, “I love you too.”

His thumb rubs under your eyes, wiping away any stray tears, and in that moment, you feel the suffocating vines retract, leaving you the chance to breathe clearly for the first time in what felt like long time.

--

Hope you enjoyed!

masterlist

[cheycba]

child abuse. / trigger warning

for as long as i can remember, i have been a victim of some sort of abuse, whether that be child abuse, being forced to be in dangerous, scary and adult situations way before i was ready to, actual physical abuse, or mental abuse. i have had a love-hate relationship with the word 'victim', i'll probably expand on this later, but i don't like to inflate my experience or 'play' the victim, but come is a time where i am comfortable with the reality of the word 'victim'. i felt for quite some time that the word 'victim' was way too dramatic for my situation, but in time i've realized that it's just the truth, and no amount of minimizing i or anyone else can do will change this.

my earliest memories are littered with listening to adults screaming arguments, my mother bloody and bruised, laying in my bed, eyes squeezed shut as i listened to the smashing and screaming rattling the walls and the floor and wondering when it would all end or if/when someone was going to come help me out of my situation. it's almost impossible as a child to understand that you're being abused, because usually the people doing the abusing are the ones you have limitless love for, and if you mix that with the inability to distinguish right from wrong, it makes you incapable to recognize the reality of it.

my mother was the one who would make me feel terrible, scared, helpless, and yet she was the one who would feed me, wipe my tears and care for me. she had terrible taste in men - my earliest ever memory is walking into the kitchen and catching her boyfriend, pinning her by the neck against the cupboards, her feet hovering off the floor, her gasping, sputtering and clawing at his hand. she was usually the one on the receiving end of everything physical, my sister and i just helpless scared spectators. until eventually it was me.

without going into too much detail, i was abused, enabled by my mother, and sometimes she joined in. nothing too crazy, nothing sexual to my recollection, but nonetheless fucking terrifying. and yet i would wake up the next morning, unaware how awful it was, and continue as normal. my bruises would just become part of me, something i didn't pay too much mind to, something i became accustomed to. i would cuddle up to my abuser, i'd kiss his cheeks and i'd tell him i love him because i did love him, i didn't understand as an 8 year old that he was abusing me. there wasn't any big secret, i didn't tell anyone, because i had just assumed that this was normal, that every one of my friends experienced this when they were home. it didn't feel like a thing worth telling. i was never ever told not to tell, which is the thing i personally found the saddest - they just knew i wasn't going to speak. they were fully cognizant in the fact that they were fostering a belief that this was normal. regardless, my first experience with adult men was a negative one, and whomever the men were in my childhood, they were always angry and aggressive, which i think set the tone for everything that came afterwards.

i've gone most of my life since feeling pretty unaffected by it, but at times, i react to certain situations in a way that makes me feel like "hang on, would i have reacted to this information in this way if it wasn't for this?" i find myself in relationships and friendships that i'm not so sure i would be in if not for my experience as a child, i have maybe forgiven too many times instead of removing people from my orbit.

i feel like i am prone to emotionally exploding and overreacting to certain things, as as a child i was pretty much helpless and alone, and now as an adult, i overexert the fact that i have pretty much free-speech with almost zero repercussion. it's not like i can completely lose my shit, cuss and go crazy and there's gonna be a 6'5 scary ass dude beating my ass for it as an adult. so in the past, at any given opportunity, when i've felt hurt and weak, i have gone crazy at others, made myself and others rightfully doubt my sanity in the process.

obviously, at times, it's hard to repress the anger, sometimes it's almost impossible to not be bitter and mad about my childhood being stolen, being forced to live in-between two violent, hostile adults from an early age, and the hardest thing is to not to think too much about the lifelong hindrance this has given me, and the longing to meet the version of myself that this had simply not happened to - i find myself wondering if i'd be a better person, if i'd be more successful, if i'd be happier, what my life would look like.

but at the same time, there are always things to be thankful for. this has given me the strength and willpower to get through other bad things that have happened to me, this has given me the determination and ability to endure hurt and pain because i know it's all temporary and a better day is coming, whether it be near or far from the present. it's helped me to end a terrible relationship when i started to recognize a never-ending cycle of abuse.

i know all this was in Gods plan to prepare me for things that have happened to me later on and it's so blatantly clear to see now. i believe the things that have happened to me in adulthood were unavoidable obstacles and had i not had my experience as a child, i don't think i would've been able to get through them. so despite how negative it was, i know the long-term benefits outweigh those by a million miles. so when i feel angry nowadays, i focus on God, i focus on the strength He has granted me, i know He can see me, i know He is sharing my pain with me, He is present in my suffering, and He will help me prosper, even if He has me face more obstacles, i am trying to take it in my stride as i know He can see my past, He sees my future and He knows exactly what i need to do and overcome to become the person He intended me to be.

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[normal-thoughts-official]

Ur take on a malec beauty and the beast au please

ugh you got me in a difficult position here because on the one hand, i do love the idea of a beauty and the beast malec au. i just think the idea of a socially isolated person who thinks themself/is perceived as monstruous and who has locked away their heart and doesn't believe they could ever be loved fits magnus like a glove. but on the other hand, i don't want to make magnus, a brown character, animalistic, for obvious reasons. and i can't really think of a way to make him monstruous that doesn't fall into animalization/beastification (both racist tropes) or ableist tropes

so i'm thinking... maybe the spell is just that people are repulsed by him/fear him automatically? like it just creates this horrible almost impossible to ignore repulsive/fear/"fight or flight activating" aura around him for absolutely no reason and makes ppl be repulsed and/or hate him. even if it doesn't change his appearance at all. it's not really a changing or shifting spell, more like a spell of hatred

which like.... i know doesn't sound like anything poc/queer people don't already go through but there is a main difference which is that it makes it impossible to find a community. like even other brown and queer people look at him and feel this... huge disgust and even fear and might even hide and so the isolation is absolutely total and it fucking hurts. and besides it is one thing (a very bad thing) to walk around and have to be on constant alert because you never know if someone is going to be violent, and have to deal with occasional comments and disgusted reactions... it's another to consistently have like, children screaming and people cowering 100% of the time without exception, you know? he's basically living the life ppl with social anxiety think they live and he has nowhere to turn to, no one who understands or who's more likely to actually want to talk to him because of his differences. there's no one to lean on. even the people who love him aren't immune to it, even if of course they are not turning their backs on him

so anyway here are my thoughts: this was totally done by camille lol beacuse the whole backstory about being mean to an elderly lady doesn't fit magnus anyway and also i just like sprinkling camille angst where i can. so after magnus finally got himself free of her and her stupid claws she hexxed him back into isolation. both as punishment (a kinda "if you don't want me, then you have no one" logic) and just to make him more vulnerable because again, abusers want you alone and isolated and away from a support network so you are more dependant on them and more likely to buy into their thwarped logic if they can immerse you in it. so she's just trying to manipulate him into getting back with her, because she wants him and most of all his power

and basically you know the drill, if he doesn't find anyone who will love him romantically until the rose withers yada yada he will die. and again she just wants to make the spell so it constantly drives home how alone he is and how he can't find anyone who will love him (except for her), and make it so he's more and more likely to come back to her as time goes by because then the spell will be broken

(sidenote: camille obviously doesn't actually love him, because anyone who does that to someone doesn't love them. but as the one who cast the spell, she can lift it whenever she wants. so all she has to do is kiss him and lift the spell and be like "see, magnus? who else would love you like this, but me? even after all these years?". and honestly if it had come to that magnus would know she was lying because there is no way this is love, none. but anyway it doesn't come to that, that's just what her plan is)

anyway it still doesn't work because magnus is done and he won't get back to her, and he particularly doesn't want to get back with her after, you know, all this trashfire. and he just sets his jaw and is like "fine" and accepts that he will live however long he still has with his friends and people he loves and away from her, basically

and like gosh sidenote but this would have been so painful for his friends. camille very deliberately made it romantic love because she knows magnus has so many fucking people who love him, but him and the immortal squad have found family dynamics, not romantic ones. so there is nothing they can do even though their love for magnus is just... so real and pure and they hate to see him like this, hate to know that right when he finally got rid of her she made sure he still couldn't go out in the world. especially since magnus has always been so damn sociable, loved to be surrounded by people and to meet them and care for them. but here he is, walking as hidden as he can and with his head down avoiding eye contact because he knows the horror is there and some children run away screaming when they see him

and i just picture this desperate little scene with raphael in particular where he's just like.... "i'll try to kiss you. we have to try" and magnus is all, "my boy, you don't even like kissing, and she was very adamant that it had to be romantic" and raphael is almost in tears like "but i do love you, goddamn it! i should be able to undo this spell" and it's so sweet that he's trying and willing to be in this really awkward position where he kisses (yikes) magnus (which is just weird especially since magnus is kind of a father figure to him) because he's just... so desperate to have him free of her, finally, once and for all, you know?

but obviously it doesn't work, not even with dot, who had a kinda fling with him in the past but doesn't really feel Romantic Love™ for him even though she does love him, it's just... not what the spell requires. and it's unfair as hell and there are lots of tears but just the fact that magnus falls asleep surrounded in a teary cuddle pile after some of the absolute worst kisses of his life because his friends/family love him enough to put themselves in such an uncomfortable position in the hopes of making him free, is enough to make him feel a little better. and the fact that they are still there for him and obviously still love him so fiercely even though looking at him now literally evokes fight or flight instincts in them is already more than anything camille could ever give him. if anything, she's proven how loved magnus is

and that helps him get through it that day and is something he tries to hold unto in the worst days, but still, it's hard and it just... sucks. it's tiring to go out in the street and always have people staring at you and to see the horror in their faces and be so isolated and never really know what might happen, if he will be attacked or harrassed or what exactly will happen. so he isolates himself more and more and soon the only people who ever see him or visit him are his friends. and fuck, do they hate seeing him like this

things settle in a weird kind of way. magnus is still living his life and working as a wizard and etc and in a way the spell even helps him have some more credibility because you know, isolated scary person is kinda what ppl expect from wizards. but he avoids having contact at all costs and mostly sends the potions they request and stuff their way, and the only ppl he sees are his friends unless he absolutely can't avoid going outside. and he's fucking miserable. and every once in a while camille will come back to be like "so, magnus, are you ready to stop with this little tantrum of yours and come back to me now? how is the rose doing, by the way?" because god forbid he catches a break

also it turns out that magnus' adoptive streak becomes even stronger because he is 1- extra lonely; and 2- empathizing more than ever with the outcasts. don't get me wrong, he always has, he's a fucking brown, bi trans man for fuck's sake. we all see ourselves in the stray dogs and lonely people one way or another. but now this is turned up to a thousand, so, you know

so he has one (1) extra kind of contact in his life which is basically with stray animals (particularly cats cuz u know, this is magnus) that he finds around in need of help. they can all leave if they want, but a lot of them stay, particularly the black cats, disabled animals, and others that have a particularly hostile environment outside. you know

(not me again with my very specific hcs about deaf pitbulls who fall in love with my faves but LOOK pitbulls are very sweet and caring animals who don't deserve the fame of monsters that they have and if the idea of one being best friend's with magnus and them having a loving and caring relationship doesn't appeal to you then idk what the fuck to tell you)

this of course doesn't help his image cuz this guy is just going there and collecting black cats and snakes and has a huge pitbull around with him at all times but it's not like it can get any worse so magnus doesn't care, and besides, he can't just leave them out to die in the cold and harrassment of middle ages white ppl who think black cats are the worst possible thing but rats carrying deadly diseases are fine (and look, i know rats are also animals that get a lot of shit and persecution, but like, seriously, clean the streets)

and every once in a while there will be a person in need too, like a homeless person in need of a place to stay or some sick person who has been abandoned or something of the sort, so magnus brings them in as well and cares for them as well as he can, but also tries to maintain minimal contact because he's been burned too many times, okay

so like, cue alec! i know in the original BATB belle ended up with the beast to save her father's life but fuck that. i lowkey consider making it "izzy ran away from home so alec comes after her and they both end up staying with magnus" but i think i like it better if it's just alec who decided to leave. like he's done with the abuse both towards him and his sister and he wants to be able to live his life even if he's gonna have to start over in some other village all alone. anywhere but here and all that

and of course alec used to be plenty rich and he has a lot of skills that help him pass by - he's a good archer and hunter, he's a good leader and organizer so he could do wonders for a failing business, he's smart and cunning - but he also has, like, 2 gold coins to his name. maybe some more from stuff he took from home and sold, but still

initially he is living at a tavern and i guess i'm making simon, raphael, and maia tavern owners again! i don't even care anymore, it suits them. rapha is the cook and the three of them run the business and simon also makes musical appearances during dinners every once in a while, and they are living the happy queer polyamorous life of their dreams. we have no choice but to stan

anyway alec is staying with them and he becomes friends with i think maia in particular since, you know, she is the one with the most contact with the customers since rapha is in the kitchen and simon is up the stage most of the time. plus they are both the same brand of bastard and they have an easy understanding between them that just works

and look! simon, raphael, and maia are 3 trans, non-christian/non-white (unnecessary addendum: the concept of whiteness didn't exist until around the 17th century, but whiteness as a concept came basically as a substitute for christianity [link to source], so i'm counting the fact that simon is jewish and raphael and maia are not culturally european as equivalent to non-whiteness in this context) people, so it's not like they would ever kick a gay man running from an abusive home out. but you know what they also are? magnus' friends. and after a while of talking to him maia thinks he is trustworthy enough for them to send magnus' way, because magnus needs as many friends as possible. plus, he wouldn't kick a person in need out, so unlike with them magnus can't really push this newcomer away so he'd have more company. plus, the possibility that he might fall in love with magnus and undo the stupid spell is there, i'm just saying! i'm not saying it WILL happen but why not give it a fucking shot?

raphael in particular is of course super protective of magnus and he swears to god that if this guy gives him half a bad look raphael will end him, which earns him some pats on the shoulder for his troubles and "rapha, we don't want magnus to be hurt either"s. maia says that she's been assessing him for quite a while now and she's pretty positive that he won't be terrible to magnus, but if she's wrong, she'll kill him personally too. and rapha trusts maia. how could he not? she's maia

so, they send alec magnus' way. "i'm sorry alec, but we are struggling to make ends meet *hides gigantic gold stash* and the tavern is packed *raphael upstairs stomps at maximum speed to make it seem like their 13 empty rooms upstairs actually have people* and we really need your room to give to this customer *simon in a wig* BUT we have a friend who we're sure will give you shelter if you ask, it's not very far away, and once we have a free room we will let you know". and alec is just like, okay, because he's been staying there for free or considerably less than the usual fee/in exchange for some stuff he hunts for quite a while now, and they are nice, so it's not like he can complain

and they don't tell him about the spell exactly because it is not their story to tell but they do let him know what to expect re: magnus' vibes and say it's a spell. and alec's like ok i guess. alec's very practical, he doesn't really care, and it's not like it's the guy's fault anyway. which is exactly why maia is sending alec there

so they send magnus a heads up ("magnus this guy is HOMELESS and we are SOOOOO packed can you please give him shelter for a little while thx xoxo"). alec arrives there a while later carrying like 3 prime rabbits he has hunted as a thank you gift because he hates being dependant on people but it's not like jobs abound in the middle ages, and he is actually a little embarrassed to go in and ask this guy he doesn't know for shelter but he IS kinda desperate. for now

anyway he is standing there with his 3 rabbits debating whether or not to knock on the door and magnus just opens it magically like "i know you're there, dear, just come in" so alec does and awkwardly presents him the rabbits and shit and is all "thanks for letting me stay, uh. i can help you with food and taking care of the house and stuff" even though, you know, magnus has magic and doesn't need it

(and magnus appreciates it deeply, because it is tiring to do it all magically on his own but most non-magical people don't even consider that)

and like... it is very awkward at first because magnus does NOT trust at all and he mostly just wants to keep away from anyone who can... look at him. but they ARE living together (oh my god they were roommates!! just kidding they each have their own room but you get it) so it's inevitable. but like magnus' insecurity makes him keep to himself for long times and makes things awkward, kinda like how the initial days with the beast and belle the beast was rude and kinda shitty except magnus is not shitty, just... private

and maybe the subject even comes up like "thanks for the meal alec. i'll go eat it in my room" "i mean, you could eat here if you want" "and ruin your appetite? no thank you" and alec is just like "*shrug* it won't ruin my appetite. unless you are my parents, the concept of failure, or some girl wanting me to marry her, i don't think there's a lot the spell can do to make me scared. besides, you literally have a kitten on top of your head right now and you refuse to remove it and are using a spell to keep her from jostling when you move" "her name is Fluffy, and she is sleeping!" "right, my bad" "wait did you say the concept of failure?" "yea"

it's not that the spell doesn't work on alec; it does, just like it works on his friends. but he is willing to go beyond that initial repulsive reaction that he knows is illogical anyway (and alec is the kind of guy who is just like "if my feelings aren't logical, i don't listen to them" which in this case is useful lmao). and the thing is that once you get to know magnus there is nothing about him that is scary, and the feeling just becomes completely ignorable, because humans are nothing if not adaptable. but most people don't want to go through the trouble to try, and magnus himself doesn't want to let himself be vulnerable enough to give them a chance because there IS a great chance that he will be met with some level of aggression, even if it's an unintentional microaggression

and eventually they grow closer and build trust. i think this happens particularly when camille steps in for one of her regularly schedule shoving-it-in-magnus'-face visits and alec is just like. "hey why don't you just use magic to keep her away?" and magnus realizes that he never even THOUGHT of that and like, jesus, how much has he been unconsciously torturing himself? so he does it, and he ends up telling alec about the story of the spell, which might be the first time he's told someone that didn't know him before the spell was cast

(alec: "so she's basically just killing you slowly?" magnus: "don't be silly, alexander. torturing me first is the most important part". and he sounds self deprecating and almost resigned and god alec feels murderous)

ohh but wait bonus: magnus says that she will only undo the spell if he gets back with her, he doesn't mention that it technically can be undone by romantic love or whatever bullshit's going on because he doesn't believe it can happen anyway, so, who cares

anyway! time goes by. fun fact: alec and magnus get along really fucking well. magnus is so so smart and knowledgeable and he shows alec many of his inventions that never got to see the light of day or that were stolen by someone else who wasn't cursed and took all the credit. he also fascinates alec with his magic, but mostly with his personality. there's something just endlessly endearing about this guy who is so fucking proud of his puns and so so nice and gentle to every creature he encounters, be it a kitten or a pitbull, who's letting alec stay with him for no reason other than that alec needs it

and alec is so goddamn appreciative of it because like he IS and we stan! and he's always trying to give back to magnus which is kind of a rarity, but most of all he's also extremely funny beneath the whole no-bullshit attitude, he's caring and fierce and resourceful and strong (so's magnus) and they click so well. they can also talk about their similar experiences with like, abuse and trauma without making it super heavy and they're just,,, so supportive of each other. so like yeah surprise surprise they fall in love

but they don't really say anything because (on magnus' part) that's just fucking ridiculous, he's a monster; and (on alec's part) he will put magnus is a way too uncomfortable position if magnus doesn't like him that way and they will just... be living together. and magnus will feel like he has to compensate to alec somehow and alec doesn't want that. it's just complicated when one of them is dependant on the other, and besides, alec has had very little to offer magnus so far

(no, he has no idea how much his company means to magnus and has brighted his depressed ass life. he is stupid)

sometimes magnus' friends visit and they're always just so happy for him, to see how he's hanging out more and let someone into his life after so long. it earns him a lot of forehead kisses and "i'm so happy to see you like this". and over time he starts to invite them over more as well as just open up back to the people in his life :')

angsty but also kind of fluffy sidenote: i picture that every time they kiss his forehead or cheek or whatever they linger for a little while and then open their eyes slowly and sigh like "i had been hoping that it would work this time. magnus, you know i love you, right?" and magnus is all like "i know just from you saying that, darling. it's just not how the spell works" and aaa

and like to be extra clear im not saying that alec fixes him or romantic love heals him or whatever, just that having let someone in, someone who didn't know him before the spell, and have them completely accept him and realize how much he had been missing out re: touch and human contact helps him realize how much he misses his friends and how pushing them away is stupid when they've never been anything if not supportive of him. they don't care that he's cursed. and obviously magnus was already on the way to that if he even managed to let alec in anyway

anyway! dramatic healing scene. LOOK. usually i'd be all for "they don't change back actually because people don't have to look beautiful to be lovable". like the original BATB disappointed me sooo badly because i had just been hoping that he'd stay the same way and still be loved. but in this case it's not that magnus doesn't look beautiful! it's that the spell has made him be hated by people for no reason other than existing. and breaking the spell is not changing magnus himself, it's changing that hatred. so, yeah. i'm not saying it's a deep metaphor or anything, just, you know daudhasdja it's different from the usual monster thing

and i'm torn here because on the one hand i LOVE the drama of the original BATB where everyone decides to gather to kill the beast and belle saves him and shit, but idk if it fits with the vibe ive been building here. no actually @ me shut the fuck up. you know how i mentioned that they kick camille out with magic finally? i actually had no intentions of following through with this in any way but like of COURSE she would be absolutely pissed out of her mind and want to get back in some way, we already know she's vindictive. so i'm gonna use that. this is what neil gailman meant when he said that writing is just making a rough draft and then writing it again but like it's on purpose this time

anyway! so after they yeet her camille is obviously furious and fuming and it might have finally dawned on her that magnus will NOT fucking cave and she is losing power over him, not gaining it. so she decides to play a last card and get him to almost die so he kind of HAS to take her bid, you know? so she makes up some shit about how magnus has kidnapped the lightwood heir and she's only now hearing about it, and no one else is safe and yada yada. and she has "proof" because alec IS indeed there and again the spell just helps everyone easily agree with her that magnus is That Kind Of Guy or whatever, and middle ages ppl weren't exactly waiting for a good enough reason to grab their pitchforks. and they don't even KNOW about the spell, really. all they know is that he's very powerful, secluded, and they all fear and almost hate him just from one look

so camille makes up some bullshit story about how he made a deal with the devil to become extra powerful, and that the source of his powers is the rose, so they have to get rid of the rose to kill him. (sidenote: i never understood why the hell the rose was never used as a weakness against the beast. like was he keeping it super guarded and safe just for the fucking shits?) so they devise an attack so someone can sneak up and get the rose, and camille makes up some bullshit story about how they have to destroy the rose a specific way so it takes longer and she has time to manipulate magnus before he dies. man, it's easy to be a villain when your target is secluded

anyway! big attack at magnus' house. magnus' friends don't hear about it until it's too late because camille knows exactly who they are and warned them that they were on "the witch's" side. alec is maybe away hunting when it happens? camille obviously has magic in this AU so she can check for that information. maybe she even says that she will be the one responsible for finding the lightwood heir so there is minimal risk of him revealing that she lied lmao

oh no, violence! they battle and yada yada. catarina is probably the first one to realize what is happening because i figure she, madzie, and dot are the ones who live closest to magnus'. they send fire messages and get ragnor, simon, maia, raphael, and meliorn to help. oh yeah, and alec i genuinely forgot trust me to forget about romance in a romance-focused au. but alec is the only one of them without any magical resources and he's far away and on foot, so he's gonna be the last to get there, which camille had been counting on

but alec or no alec, they can keep the attackers at bay because they're all powerful and smart and shit and a lot of them have magic as opposed to the mundanes who don't, but of course that's mostly because they are holding off on attacking and the invasion is mostly a distraction because their PLAN is to use the rose. and camille tells them all to leave once the petal puckering starts so she can "protect them from any lashouts" (have her big villain speech). and it's not like any of magnus' friends is gonna leave to go after them when magnus is dying, bUT they also won't attack camille because she's his only hope. and they won't be able to get to stop the rose plucking in time because that's in another room and while she made it slower than something that the person can use to kill him in a second it's also not slow enough for them to get there on time (maybe there's a spell against magic use near where magnus keeps the rose? just for extra safety, so the ones with magic can't portal there or whatever)

anyway. big villain speech. magnus screams in pain every time a new petal is plucked. his friends are either running to the rose thing desperately or trying to get camille to stop this madness, she's going to kill him for fuck's sake. i don't know which chooses to do what so you can figure that out i guess. and for that extra drama, right when the last petal was going to be plucked, wee woo alec lightwood arrives! and he went straight for the rose because magnus had told him about it and he figured that there was a good chance the attackers might go for it. so he shoots the person's leg or something and gets them away from the rose and yay, day saved! mostly. because now there is only one petal left to fall before magnus dies, so at the very least, his lifespan has been shortened considerably. also, he is still in pain

i'm torn about what happens to camille then. on the one hand, i love killing camille! bonding activities for the whole family. on the other, she kinda is the only one who can save him now. they all know magnus won't want to get back with her, but hey, it's not like camille wants a relationship! she wants magnus to be her asset. a relationship was just the best way to get him to do that she had initially. but magnus doesn't want to cave and be dependant of her, so, you know. but maybe they can try to convince her to stop this fucking madness, god knows how

so okay yeah no camille-killing yet because they don't want to jeopardize magnus' safety, so she just leaves convinced that either way, she wins, and this might be the best possible scenario actually because magnus will have lots of times to think it over and be real desperate and come to her and strike a deal. so, yay her! she just needs to lie to the mundanes that the mission was successful or whatever, and it's not like that's gonna be hard because magnus won't want to be seen there again, so

we are all running to check up on magnus now. he's kinda like, on the ground coughing blood, but he'll live for as long as the last rose doesn't fall. still, they all settle on trying to help him, getting him in bed, tending to his wounds, etc. and thinking about what the fuck they are all going to do now. so you have raphael and maia making magnus soup, simon running his mouth as he throws around ideas on how they can fix this, ragnor, cat, dot, and madzie (who is here now that the danger is over ofc) checking and rechecking magnus' vitals for the billionth time and trying to figure out how much time they have, meliorn using their fae powers to stop his pain. and madzie is all snuggled in bed with magnus holding his hand and asking if he wants her to tell him a bedtime story, and magnus just... feels cared for and loved

alec meanwhile i think would tell what ACTUALLY happened to the person who was doing the rose thing - i actually have thought about it and think it might make sense for it to be luke. just because i love him and it kinda fits the whole "initially sided with shadowhunters, lately became a downworlder" thing. and like luke genuinely believed he was saving a person/people so alec brings him in too and magnus is all "catarina, dear, can you help heal his leg? i would, but i don't think i have enough magic right now" because he is the sweetest man immediately wanting to help the guy who almost killed him. and luke is in awe

(and alec brings him on purpose, too, because he knows that anyone who actually talks to magnus for a little while will see what an amazing person he is. and he hopes that luke, as a mundane, can tell the others that and turn them against camille)

and after that, of course, alec sits down by magnus' side and Does Not Leave. he's just there holding his hand and talking to him and magnus' friends, who are all also kind of. sitting there, trying to snuggle up in a gigantic pile of like 10 ppl to cuddle close to magnus and make sure he feels loved and cared for and that they know he is real. madzie gets special privileges in that sense because she's smaller and also a kid, so she gets to be kinda snuggled up with him. so alec has to be content with holding magnus' hand lmao (which he is, he's just happy that he's alive and okay. and he has a whole plan to get camille to undo the spell, mostly involving getting the mundanes against her and telling her that she is only safe for as long as magnus lives, because once he dies, she will have a bunch of ppl who will hunt her down to the faces of the earth to make her pay for what she did to him. the only reason they didn't do that yet is because she can still save magnus' live, so is she really going to let him die knowing that she will be next?)

so alec takes his hand and tells magnus that they will fix this, he promises, and give a little kiss on magnus' hand. just a little peck, no deep intentions, but magnus gasps a little because he feels something, and his eyes water a little bit because he's so touch starved and tired and hurt and alec kissed his hand and he can feel this kind of ache inside him, somehow a good ache, but he just can't explain it. and so alec notices his watery eyes and he very tenderly wipes his tears away and tells him that they're all on his side, will always be, and kisses him on the forehead. and this kiss? this kiss is full of adoration and love and purpose, and magnus gasps and the wounds that hadn't been healed suddenly mend together, and the petals that had fallen go back to the rose before it disappears in a beautiful flash of light, and suddenly magnus' magic is back full force and he just looks at himself for a second, and everyone erupts into joy because holy shit, the spell is broken

and alec is so confused because again! he didn't kNOW about the whole true love's kiss thing or he would have asked magnus to let him kiss him as soon as he learnt about his feelings, because even if magnus didn't feel the same way, alec could undo the spell. and he's like "why the hell didn't you tell me?? we could have fixed this months ago" and magnus is like "i didn't think it would make a difference. wait, you're in love with me? have been for months?" and alec is like "first of all, yes. second of all, i have nothing else to say, i just said 'first of all' because i was so indignant"

and magnus laughs and jumps on him and kisses him on the mouth this time and they are both smiling and laughing into it and so so happy. and raphael is kind of just peppering kisses on maia's face too, like, "you were right, he undid the spell, thank you" and maia was never sure that this would happen but she will take the credit actually please and thank you

and they all live happily ever after and kill camille together the end i guess. god this post was so long i'm so sorry

[olivinesea]

A Mixed Blessing

prologue: we’re better than this

a/n: A rather soft start. No warnings for this bit. Having a real weird day so I honestly can’t gauge this at all. Enjoy? ~1.3k

An unseen hand fumbled with the half dozen locks on the door, scraping the key uselessly against the metal, locking some that had already been unlocked. This had been going on for several minutes with minimal progress made. Hotch and Emily were sitting at the dining room table watching the struggle. He almost stood up to help, the sounds vibrating through him creating a hum of anxiety. Just as he had lost his patience, the door burst open. Jack stood there, one hand on the door frame, breathing hard as if he’d just battled a giant. In some respects he had, finally overpowering the beast of his father’s paranoia. It had been more than a decade since Foyet’s attacks but Hotch still engaged each lock religiously whenever he closed that door. He only left the chain off when he knew Jack would be coming home.

No one moved as father and son stared at each other, Jack’s eyes red and unfocused. The fact that Jack should have been home two hours ago was not lost on any of the room’s occupants. Hotch pressed his lips together, his mouth a grim barrier trying to hold back the many things he wanted to say. None of them would do any good and he knew it. They’d had this conversation over and over, the scolding and the threats. He was angry but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand. Still, this behavior scared him and he wished he could convince Jack that he just wanted him to be safe, wanted to spare him from the things he knew were waiting just along the edges of the life he was sinking into.

“You’re late,” was all he managed to get out.

Jack huffed in response, swinging the door closed with a little too much force. Emily winced at the noise, the crash ringing in the early morning hours. Hotch stood up, not sure what he meant to do but impelled to move. Jacks eyes darted from the chair that scraped along the floor with the movement back to his father’s face. He’d never had a reason to fear his father, the man had never even raised his voice at him. He couldn’t make out the emotion there through the chemical fog in his mind. For a brief moment, he was a child again, studying his father’s expression for hints to explain the sadness he perceived but was never vocalized. Something to help him understand the secrets he felt hanging heavy around them but held so tightly he rarely got a glimpse of what they contained.

“Did you hear me?” Hotch sounded stern. At a loss for how to proceed, he switched to his work voice.

This shook Jack from his meditation, snapping him back to the present and reminding him of just how irritating he found his father’s refusal to treat him as an adult, to treat him like he was capable of handling difficult truths. He’d been there too after all, hadn’t he? Who did his dad think he was protecting, pretending the ghosts haunting them didn’t exist?

“Whatever,” his only response, rolling his eyes as he stalked down the hallway. He slammed the door to his room as well, just for good measure.

Hotch sighed heavily, sinking back into the wooden chair. Emily frowned, she’d seen him tired, seen him injured, seen him in his worst moments and yet this, this defeat was hard to see. She wanted to lighten the mood. Surely it wasn’t so bad as he was making it out to be. The kid came home in one piece, certainly better than she had many times in her youth.

“C’mon, you remember being a kid,” Emily said playfully, trying to soothe him.

“I do,” Hotch replied, his tone dry. He pressed his fingertips against his temples, willing the looming migraine to pass him by this time.

Without being able to see his face she thought they’d moved past the tension. “A little partying never hurt anyone,” she teased.

He raised his head and gave her the look. His glare cut through her lightness, reminding her how scary he could be at times. He felt bad when he saw her shoulders slump. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know, it wasn’t like he’d ever been one to share. What Emily knew, what anyone knew, had only been picked up through the odd slip, a picture built completely on inference and conjecture. He hesitated, feeling like he needed to make up for his behavior. She was only here because she was his friend, because he’d asked.

There had been one too many of these late nights, anxiously waiting on his sullen child to return (or not) and in a weak moment he had called her. Had asked her to come over without explanation and she had, no questions asked, able to tell just from the way his clipped words stuttered out that he shouldn’t be alone. She didn’t mind, she’d do anything for the big idiot. Sometimes it was just hard to tell what he wanted, seeming to prefer space and silence—so that was what she gave him.

She could tell he was wrestling with his thoughts and reached out a hand, wrapping it around his fingers. “I’m sure it’s stressful. I—I can’t imagine being the parent of a teenager.”

He huffed out a little laugh. It wasn’t funny, neither one of them was amused.

“Emily…” he started but didn’t know if he should continue, if he could continue.

She looked at him carefully, still holding his hand. She’d wait as long as necessary, all night if needed, for him to finish his thought.

He shook his head and stood up, gently pulling his hand from hers. He was going to need a drink for this. He didn’t ask her if she wanted one too, returning with two glasses and the bottle she’d given him for his fiftieth birthday. She smiled upon seeing it and gave him a slight nod as he paused, the bottle hovering above her glass.

Drinks sorted, he sat back down and spun the glass slowly between his fingers. He’d always been a thinker, far more thoughts running through his mind than could ever make it into conversation. He tried to catch one, to find the right place to begin. Emily sipped her bourbon, keeping an eye on her friend. Eventually he looked at her, his dark eyes searching hers, needing confirmation that she was here for this. That she wouldn’t turn away from him when his heart was bleeding on the table. She felt a seed of fear sprout deep in her gut but she only smiled at him encouragingly. He took a shaky breath.

“There are some things about my past that I don’t like to share.”

She could laugh, thinking about all the gaps and the silences, the code of secrecy they were all unwittingly sworn to upon becoming friends with Aaron Hotchner. But she didn’t, she could feel how serious this was, how delicate. She was probably the only person who could do this dance with him well enough to get the story out. She waited.

“I know I shouldn’t be so worried about Jack, it’s just…I had some trouble when I was his age.” He paused to take a drink, more gulp than sip. A drowning man swallowing seawater.

“I’m afraid.”

The admission was barely more than a whisper. Hearing the way his voice cracked, she wasn’t sure she really was strong enough for this but her poker face remained steadily in place.

“I’m listening.”

chapter one

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Halloween tales

31 Days of Spooktober

Day 12/31

-Present day-

Aelin laughed, resting her back against her husband’s shoulders.

It was Halloween night, and despite the fact that both of them maybe were too old for this, Aelin and Rowan were celebrating the night as they always had.

The movie was already set up on the television, and both were just going to the kitchen to grab the candy, popcorn and beers when they heard the front door opening and closing.

“Mom? Dad?” The unmistakable voice of their eldest son sounded through the house, and Aelin half turned her face to Rowan, raising an eyebrow.

“In the kitchen, Nino.” Rowan shouted back, hugging Aelin as they waited for Nino to come to them. It was surprising Nino was visiting them at that time at night, specially on Halloween night when he should be enjoying some party with his friends and fiancée.

The surprise only got bigger when they saw all of their kids walking in, none dressed up as anything or even hinting that they planned on celebrating Halloween. Aelin knew her kids well enough to know that they adored Halloween, so whatever this was, it was serious.

Rowan must have noticed too, because he hugged Aelin tighter. “What happened?”

Aurora and Kiara crossed their arms, and Theo simply rested against the fridge, looking at his older brother. Nino’s face was grave, and Aelin took a step forward, coming out of Rowan’s arms, to place her hands on Nino’s face. “What happened, baby?”

“Nino wants to talk.” Aurora explained.

“We gathered as much, Auro.” Rowan said, brows creasing as he looked at Aelin and Nino. “Specifying about what would be good, though.”

Nino sighed, forcing a smile to Aelin and then raising his eyes to Rowan. “Can we sit down?”

Aelin turned her head to stare at Rowan, brows high. None of them seemed hurt, but she couldn’t feel calm until she listened to what he wanted to say. Even after years being carefree and chill most of the time, Aelin had learned a long time ago that her kids’ wellbeing was a fast way to change that.

Rowan put his hands on Aelin’s hips, guiding her to the living room as their kids followed right behind them.

“Whatever it is, it’s gonna be ok.” Rowan whispered on her ear as they sat down on the love seat facing the bigger sofa. Nino was he first one to sit down, followed them by Aurora. Despite the few years in between them, the two had always been extremely close to each other. It was no surprise she was here to support him with whatever it was. Then, the twins sat down. Kiara was by Aurora’s side, Theo occupying the last seat on the sofa.

After a few moments of silence, Theo cleared his throat. “So, is anyone gonna say something and end the awkward?”

Kiara hit him in the back of the head, mumbling for him to shut up. If the situation was different, Aelin would have laughed. Nino had been a calm and easy to deal, and although Aurora was the most energetic, she wasn’t bad either. Kiara was more like Nino, delicate and calm, but Theo was just… Different. He was the troublemaker of the family, the one who always wanted the last say.

Too much like Aelin, Rowan would always say.

She’d always grin in return.

Nino sighed, placing his face on his hands before looking at his parents. “I’m engaged.”

Despite the situation, Rowan snorted. “Yeah, for seven months.”

Nino looked at his siblings, a pained expression overtaking his face when he looked back at his parents.

Aelin knew that, whatever he was about to say, he was afraid it would disappoint Rowan. She knew it from the instant he looked back at them and his eyes fell solely on her. Throughout his whole life, Nino had done everything to get Rowan proud. Rowan wasn’t by any means a harsh or mean father, and Aelin could count in one hand the amount of times Rowan raised his voice at the four sitting in front of her. Even though Rowan had been the absolute best father anyone could ask for Nino, there was still something in her son that made him want to be even better in his father’s eyes.

It’s not that Nino didn’t care about Aelin’s opinion. She knew that he loved her unconditionally, but with Rowan it was… different. And so when Nino couldn’t even bear to look at his dad, Aelin knew that he was either afraid or ashamed of what he was about to say. Judging by the way Rowan squeezed Aelin’s shoulder, he had also noticed.

“I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I want to be engaged.” Nino said quietly, bitting his lower lip. “I just…”

Aurora and Kiara looked at Nino with pity on their faces, but Theo was staring straight at Aelin and Rowan. He raised his eyebrows minimally, jaw clenching. He was the spitting image of Rowan, and so Aelin had seen that expression a million times already to understand that, whatever Nino was going through, wasn’t a thing of the moment. He had thought this through for a while now, and that’s probably why all his siblings already knew.

Probably why she and Rowan were learning about it.

“Nino.” Rowan’s voice was grave and quiet, but also holding the natural gentleness it always possessed when talking to the people he loved. “Why?”

Nino rubbed his face, groaning quietly before replying. “I don’t know. I just… I’m just different. Or maybe Phedre is different? I don’t fucking know. I loved her so much, but now it’s… boring. It’s not exciting. And I know she feels the same, and I don’t know what to do. I talked to Auro first, a few weeks ago. I was feeling strange for a while and I thought I should ask for second opinion.”

Aelin turned to her first daughter. “And what did you say?”

She shrugged. “I said that he should talk to Phedre. I never had this problem with Emerson, and I didn’t want to fuck it up. He said he had done that already and that she said everything was fine. So we talked to Theo and Kiara. As we all know, Theo has the sentiments of a rock and Kiara is the most emotional person ever,” Kiara narrowed her eyes at her older sister while Theo simply smiled. “So no one came up with a solution.”

“So why not ask to the fairytale come real couple?” Theo asked, but despite the words, there was no sarcasm on his voice. He could be different from his siblings, but Theo appreciated his parents’ love just as much as the other three. “The two of you are a match made in Heaven, happily married for almost thirty years now. Share the knowledge.”

Normally, Aelin would have said something sarcastic to that question that would have made her kids groan and Rowan roll his eyes. She didn’t know what to say to this specific situation, though. She never imagined that Nino would have this type of issue with Phedre. Both had been in love since high school, perfect for each other.

She was saved from saying anything when Rowan decided to answer. “That’s normal.”

Nino raised his head to his father. “It is?”

“Of course it is, Nino.” Aelin said, a smile on her face.

“But I don’t think I love her anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

There was a beat of silence before Rowan relaxed against the loveseat. “Me and your mother almost got divorced once.”

“What?” All four heads snapped to them, voices variating in volume and incredulity.

“When?”

“How?”

“Why?”

“The fuck?”

Aelin snorted, resting her back against Rowan’s chest. “Your father could have been more delicate about it, but yes, we almost got a divorce. I was even living with aunt Lysandra for a while. You were around two, Nino, and the rest wasn’t even born yet.”

“Why?” Was all Nino replied.

Rowan shrugged. “It got boring. I didn’t know if I loved her anymore, she didn’t know if she loved me anymore.”

“But you guys are married still.” Kiara said cautiously.

Both Aelin and Rowan smiled. “Yes.”

Theo adjusted himself on the sofa, a grin playing on his lips. “I feel a Halloween story coming. I wanted to be at a frat party right now, but I think hearing about my parents almost divorce will do.”

Rowan smirked at Theo, and Aelin winked. “It’s not a Halloween story.”

“If it’s told on Halloween, it’s a Halloween story.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Mother and son through and through.” Rowan butted in.

“And the thought of mom and dad separated is scary enough to be a Halloween story.” Kiara sided with her twin.

Theo smiled smugly at his mom.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “But going back to your brother’s issue…”

“How did you fix it?” Nino asked almost disperately.

Aelin looked up at Rowan, eyebrows raised. He winked quickly at her, and both turned back to look at their kids.

“Well…”

——————

-Years before-

“And that should be all.” The divorce lawyer said, standing up. “So much easier dealing with a couple who doesn’t hate each other.”

Aelin tried to force a laugh out, but Rowan’s face didn’t change at all.

For a quick second, Aelin allowed herself to look at him, to look at the face of the man she had loved.

Rowan was breathtakingly beautiful. Defined jawline, high cheekbones and deep pine-green eyes, Aelin couldn’t deny that he was the most handsome man she had ever met. The only difference was that now he looked so cold, so distant. It was like when they had first met, but that had been years ago and Aelin didn’t know how to deal with his coldness anymore. He was still polite, still cordial but…

But he wasn’t the man she had married.

It was confusing, really. Both she and Rowan had come to an agreement regarding the separation. Things weren’t the same anymore, and stuff that usually made her heart beat faster was just pissing her off now. And she knew it was the same to him. They were getting the divorce because, it turns out, neither of them liked who they were anymore. Rowan couldn’t love the girl he had fallen in love with years before, and neither could Aelin. And yet, seeing this cold and detached Rowan made her want to punch a wall.

For the past month and a half, she had been trying to figure out her feelings. They hadn’t tried to fix anything, hadn’t tried to go to therapy together because there wasn’t anything broken in their relationship. It had just… died.

The man she thought she’d love forever just didn’t love her back. And so she stopped loving him too.

There wasn’t a specific moment, or a specific reason. Aelin didn’t hate Rowan, much less regretted him. To be honest, if it depended on her, they would have never fallen out of love.

But they had and now she was forced to hear a stupid divorce lawyer make jokes about something that was crushing her inside.

Aelin turned to Rowan giving him a polite smile. “How’s Nino?”

She had dropped off their son with him yesterday, and Nino was gonna spend the weekend with Rowan.

At the mention of their kid, Rowan smiled minimally. “Fine. I was thinking about taking him to see my mother tomorrow.”

Aelin maintained her polite smile as she got up. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

She internally counted to five, and when he didn’t add anything, she just gave a small wave and left.

Divorce was so exhausting.

Part of her wondered if she hated Rowan, everything wouldn’t be easier. But truth is, she didn’t and she also didn’t want to. She wanted to love him, and wanted for him to love her back. She wanted her perfect wedding back, but that was apparently out of the game.

There was also the fact that Aelin had a date.

The thought was so strange and foreign to her, that she didn’t really know what to think. Rowan had agreed that it was ok if they wanted to see other people while the divorce was happening, and the guy at the gallery seemed nice enough for her to accept having a coffee with him the following day. She was still thinking about it as she drove to Lysandra’s home.

It was strange, really, going through a divorce with the love of your life and having a date with a complete stranger at the same time. Aelin barely remembered what people were supposed to do in dates, and it was probably the fear of making an absolute fool of herself that made her go through her old college shit.

She had kept some journals throughout the four years she studied arts and human behavior, and so maybe something in there would give her an inkling in what to do tomorrow. For the past years, all her dates had been with the same guy.

She started looking through her shit, but quickly got lost in the memories. There were so many pictures that Aelin couldn’t help but take a moment and look at all of them. They were separated by categories. With the friend group, with her cousin, with Lysandra… and finally with Rowan. The pictures with Rowan were the thickest pile, and she set all the other ones down to take a look at them.

Rowan absolutely hated taking pictures, so Aelin let out a small laugh every time he looked absolutely pissed in the pictures. There was some of them in the sports games, a few from Halloween. A bunch from their spring breaks trips, the pictures of when they traveled together to Italy during junior year summer. Pictures of them in the lake house, Aelin wearing his enormous red hoodie while he hugged her from the back. Sitting around the fire during Christmas, kissing in New Year’s Eve, getting plastered on Saint Patrick’s. The pictures from her wedding day were the ones that shattered her heart, though. In none of them Rowan appeared anything other than beaming, always looking down at Aelin. Them dancing, cutting the cake, laughing, just hugging… The pictures then shifted for them in their first house, then pictures with Nino.

And then they stopped.

Because there was no more.

No more pictures.

For the first time since they mutually decided to get a divorce, Aelin felt a strong urge to cry. Her throat constricted and her eyes were watering uncontrollably. She had loved him so, so fucking much and it was over. And all she had were pictures.

Aelin wanted to love Rowan so bad. Sp, so bad. She wanted more pictures.

But there was no forcing love.

Not wanting to cry over something that was out of her control, Aelin put the pictures gently aside and picked up some of her old human behavior notebooks. Most of it were just notes almost impossible to read, drawings and scribbles around the pages, some sticky notes every now and then. Aelin smiled remembering her college years, how everything was so much easier.

She spent hours going over stuff she didn’t even remember she had learned, and when she picked up the last notebook, it was almost dinner time.

The last one had been for one of her favorite classes, and she could notice that just by how the handwriting was ten times better in this one. She read over the words carefully, taking her time to remember everything she shouldn’t have forgotten.

She closed the notebook, holding it forcefully as she got up.

As she grabbed her car keys.

As she left home.

——

“Ace?”

“You know what this is?” She raised her notebook, shaking it.

Rowan’s green eyes appeared confused after the glasses. “A notebook?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Rowan leaned against the doorway, rolling his eyes. “What’s on the notebook?”

Aelin felt suddenly nervous, and she dropped her hand, bitting her lower lip as she decided what she should do. “Can I come in?”

Rowan eyed her strangely before taking a step back, letting her enter what once had been her house. Rowan said she didn’t need to move out, that he could go somewhere else, but Lys had offered and she needed her best friend, not an empty home.

She looked around awkwardly, fidgeting with he notebook edges. “Is Nino sleeping?”

“Yeah.” Rowan said from behind her, voice low. “What happened, Ace?”

She sighed, walking to the couch. She sat down, crossing her legs and playing with the pants soft and loose fabric. She could feel her eyes watering, and when she looked up at Rowan, his expression immediately softened. He walked up to her, sitting down on the sofa. She shifted to stare at him, sniffing a little.

“I wanted to love you forever.”

“I know.” Rowan said, a sad smile on his face. “I wanted that too.”

“Did you know that most people fall out of love for the same reason they fall in love?” Aelin asked, closing her eyes when she felt Rowan’s thumb brushing away a tear. “That once you thought that me being carefree was cute, but now it’s just careless. That when I loved you for being always quiet, it just became hard to always guess what you were thinking.”

Rowan didn’t say anything, just stared at her. He didn’t take his hand from her face, and so Aelin continued.

“I don’t know. It’s kinda sad and tragic, isn’t it? Losing love because of the things that made you gain it. Sounds like a fucking cosmic joke.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t funny at all. Rowan’s face morphed into sadness. “Ace…”

“But,” she said, trying to give him a somewhat hopeful smile. “It got me thinking.”

Rowan adjusted himself on the couch, smiling softly at her. “Yeah? What?”

“It’s because people change. I’m not college Aelin anymore, so of course I don’t love exactly what she does.”

“And so I’m not college Rowan anymore?” He asked, trying to go along the lines of what she was saying even though he seemed kinda lost.

“Yeah, that’s why it doesn’t work. But…” She took a deep breath. “But we could try. I think love is a choice. I don’t think it’s absolutely out of our power, and I don’t want to lose you, Ro. I never wanted, and if I have to start it all over again, to love you all over again, then I’m willing to at least try. I can’t love what college Aelin loved, and you can’t love what college Rowan loved, but if we grow together, I think we can fall in love everyday with whoever we are then.”

Rowan sighed, passing an arm around Aelin’s shoulders and pulling her to his lap. Aelin curled herself into a ball, resting her face on the crook of his neck. Rowan petted her hair, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “I love you. It’s not like before, but a part of me will always love you.”

Aelin nodded, eyes watering again. “I know. I understand.”

Rowan kissed the top of her head, still playing with her hair. “If you want to try, I’ll try with you. For as long as you want to try, fireheart.”

Aelin sniffled loudly, smiling against Rowan’s skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She could feel his smile on his voice. “I’ll always do anything for you, Ace. And if you want to stop the divorce and try to figure this all out, I’d be honored to fall in love with you everyday. Even though I just know some versions are gonna be a pain in my ass.”

Aelin laughed, raising her head. Aelin’s eyes were puffy, a few tears streaming down her cheeks. She loved Rowan, she really did. Although she didn’t like the relationship anymore, Rowan had been correct when he said a part of them would always be in love. And she didn’t hate that, instead she wanted to like the relationship again, wanted that blinding love again.

Aelin hesitant and tentatively stretched her face forward, pressing her lips softly against Rowan’s. He put some pressure back, hands softly cupping her face. The kiss was feather-light, but it calmed every single nerve inside her body that had been screaming for the past weeks.

Without opening her eyes, Aelin whispered against Rowan’s mouth. “Together, then?”

“Always. And to whatever end, fireheart.”

—————

-Present day-

“And then what?” Theo asked.

Aelin shrugged. “We fixed it.”

“But how?” Kiara pressed.

Rowan laughed, rubbing his thumb over Aelin’s shoulder blades. “There’s no how. It was natural. Your mom was right, for a marriage to work, you can’t hope love will last forever. It has ups and downs, and with time it becomes more ups than downs. A marriage is not without sacrifices, and we both did a bunch of them in the following months after the conversation. Both adapted to better fit the other one.”

“And it worked.” Aelin said, a beaming smile on her lips. “There’s no formula, it’s just what works best for you. And sometimes it won’t work, and that’s also alright because not all loves are meant to last forever. That doesn’t make them lesser or not important. It was important, it will always be important, but it’s over.”

Rowan smiled gently at Nino, holding his son’s gaze. “I’m proud of you. Many people wouldn’t recognize that there was something different, and they’d just keep forcing and forcing until it was so indifferent, it didn’t matter anymore. Acknowledging that there’s something wrong with a love you held so dear for so long is very brave, Nino. And if you fix it, or if you move on, nothing will change my opinion.”

“We love you, baby.” Aelin added, a mother smile on her face. “All of you.”

Nino tried to force a carefree smile, but Aelin could see his throat constricting and eyes watering. Theo also realized how close his brother was to crying, something Nino hated, and so he decided to be his natural self.

“So you two do have problems in paradise.” He said and Rowan jokingly sighed. “Was that a recurring thing?”

“Nah.” Aelin said, putting a hand on Rowan’s knee. “Only major issue. Everything after that was just stupid arguments, but nothing that came close to divorce.”

“Nice. If you two had divorced I wouldn’t be here and that’s a shame to the world.” Theo said, and Kiara snorted. He looked at his twin, grinning at her. “And my dear Kiara, too, of course.”

“If I knew your mother was gonna birth the devil’s spawn years later, maybe I would have divorced her.” Rowan said, eyes narrowed at Theo. Aelin pinched his knee.

Theo simply smirked. “A condom would have done the work, old man. And you love me.”

“Debatable.”

“Nah.”

“Theo’s ability to transform dad in a seven year old is baffling.” Aurora said, a hand rubbing Nino’s back, as she smiled at her father. “Embarrassing.”

Rowan shook his head, looking almost hurt that his daughter hadn’t taken his side. He looked down at Aelin, eyes narrowed. “This is all your fault, you know.”

She smiled, comfortably resting against his side and chest. “Yes, I do. You are very welcome, by the way.”

When Nino finally seemed to recompose himself, he looked at his parents, a weak smile on his face. “Thank you.”

Rowan smiled at him, and Aelin winked.

“You want to talk more about it, baby?”

Nino shook his head, smile becoming a little bigger. “I think the rest is something I need to deal with Phedre.”

Rowan nodded, but seconds later the whole cute moment was over.

“Now, everyone out.”

“Why?” Kiara and Aurora said in unison.

“Lovely to spend time with you two, too. I love these heartfelt moments.” Theo said and Nino grinned.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “We’re busy. Halloween marathon. Go do whatever is that you all do.”

Kiara and Theo got up immediately, faces almost shining. “Oh, my god. Does that mean you guys bought candy?”

Rowan sighed. “Yeah, but—“

“We’re staying!” Kiara said as she and Theo rushed to the kitchen. Despite their ages, the two sometimes acted like the kids they still were in their parents’ eyes.

Aelin snorted, looking at her two eldest. “You two staying?”

Aurora shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

“Call Emerson, I miss her more than I usually miss you bunch.” Rowan said.

Aurora faked indignation. “I’m your daughter.”

“And?”

“You should miss your daughter companion more than you miss her girlfriend’s companion.”

“Emmy is nicer than you.” Aelin chimed in.

Aurora looked in between her parents, both biting their cheeks to keep a smile in. Aurora huffed, getting up. “I’m calling her, but after this you guys are prohibited to see her until you like me more.”

“So dramatic!” Aelin shouted as Aurora left the room. Nino and Rowan laughed softly before Aelin turned back to her son. “You could call Phedre.”

“And don’t act like it’s whatever if she comes or not.” Rowan said. “Say you want her to be here.”

Nino stared at Aelin and Rowan in silence for a few moments before nodding shallowly. “Yeah, I think I will.”

As one, Rowan and Aelin smiled.

.

.

.

.

A/N: This is somewhat in the lines of what one of my best friends have been begging me to do, so maybe this will make her calm the fuck down. I’ve had this idea on my mind for a while now and decided to finally write it. Hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

Tags:

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[kaypeace21]

i’m a survivor too, and i found that certain scenes/stuff will said just really struck me as ‘csa-survivor’-like? i felt a bit uncomfortable about headcanoning it happening to someone else, especially for a fandom as wild as this one, but your metas have really been a comfort to me because they’ve been able to pick out and explain things that i couldn’t necessarily find the words for myself.

and yeah, i would love to have a character like me that is powerful and who finds love and who gets a happy ending. the people who call the theory disgusting always kinda hit wrong with me because although csa is a difficult subject, we shouldn’t be ashamed about sharing it. they sound like they’re trying to say that it’s a bad topic to talk about and implying that it can’t happen to kids, which uhhhhh-

(i’m sure that’s not what they mean, precisely, but it’s still what they sound like, and i wish that they would stop implying that we can’t exist, especially in popular media. we do, and i’m not gonna pretend we don’t, and if they feel uncomfortable with the topic they can just use the block button. we deserve to have some well written representation just as much as anyone else. also, i really really hope that will gets a happy ending.)

anywayyyy i love your theories and i can see your post in the tag so i think you’re fine?? have a good day ❤️❤️❤️

SORRY, this ask took so long to respond to. It always warms my heart to hear other survivors speak and say they found comfort in my theory.

Yes, I think I and a lot of c*a/r*pe victims (subconscious or otherwise) were triggered by some of the symbolism/visuals in s1-3. And s3 made it hard for most of us to ignore the past imagery- since s3 wasn’t as subtle.

I get why people have reservations about the theory. But the debates to the contrary are usually just plain offensive. Or people trying to be respectful but being the opposite. There’s the obvious bad-apples . I got many anons after part 1 of my DID theory saying it “ruined/tainted byler”, and “if that happened to Will i’ll stop shipping byler” , or that it  “ruins the best gay character” ,  and to “remove the post immediately”. And this was when I was open about being a gay c*a victim. I obviously blocked them. Many survivors don’t come forward because they’re afraid people will see them as “tainted”, “ruined”, “ just their trauma”, or blame them for what happened. So yeah, it pisses me off when people say similar stuff about Will (and thus other c*a victims). Not even diving into the messed up psychology about byler/mileven shippers (knowing i was a lesbian c*a victim) but purposely spreading bs rumors about me being a p*do that was into Will/Noah-all because of the theory. -_-

Then there’s the people who try to be “respectful” but literally do the opposite.

I’ve heard numerous times it’s somehow “less offensive” to just use r*pe imagery to make monsters scary. Rather than have  the monsters have that imagery cause Will created the monsters from his memory/imagination-and st is a story of Will healing from that trauma. SORRY- I disagree. Using the worst experiences of peoples’ lives (and triggering their trauma) for no real purpose- except to make their monsters scarier to the normal/general audience who haven’t gone through it so won’t be triggered like us - is MORE OFFENSIVE to victims! NOT LESS! At least to me.

Then there’s the people who say “c*a should never be talked about (in stories).” Which I disagree with. V*ctims have already been told by ab*ser’s  and enablers of the ab*ser- to never talk about what happened to us  . So it rubs A LOT of us the wrong way when people say this.  Because (subconscious or not) you remind some of us of the people who used to hurt/silence us. People say this -simply for their convenience (like ab*sers) and cause deep down they’re uncomfortable with our existence and equate the despicable act to us the innocent v*ctim ...or just want to deny the horrible reality of the situation (like many enablers who deny the truth and hurt us because they don’t want to accept reality) . And 1) It brings us back to a time where they told us to NEVER talk about it- and makes us feel like we did something wrong when we didn’t! 2) Every psych professional says with-holding/keeping the ab*se a secret is detrimental to our mental health.

Plus, there’s a HUGE difference between sugarcoating/minimizing trauma or WORSE glamorizing, condoning, or romanticizing C*A in stories (ex: pretty little liars) VS showing how the action is wrong, causes trauma, but showing recovery and happiness is still possible for v*ctims.  if the story shows how accurately traumatizing it is (instead of minimizing/glamorizing it)- it’s incredibly rare for that character to get a happy ending. Having a story about recovering from that type of trauma and finding happiness despite such hardships would be amazing for US survivors! We rarely get stories with a happy ending-  it’s more harmful to us survivors to never see ourselves get happy endings in tv/film/books. How can some survivors (in a dark place) think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel- if it’s never shown?Also if Will has DID too- it’s good mental health rep, along with queer rep (and survivor’s rep.) All 3 groups rarely are treated well or get happy endings in media. A lot of people may feel more heard, seen, and a bit more hopeful for the future - If Will (and other characters) get a happy ending.

And even though st has many themes- like say homophobia. To try and hand-wave all the disturbing  r*pe imagery away  as ‘Will is just gay so the monsters are like that”. IS SOOOOOO offensive. Trigger warning for examples. I’m sorry what part of Max saying when Billy had c*nsensual s*x it’s “good screams” but when possessed by the mf he causes Heather to do “bad screams” read as gay???! Having the possessed ch*ke/dr*g people before throwing them in trunks (like it’s implied Lonnie did to Will -since Jonathan checked Lonnie’s trunk for Will in s1)?Tying their arms and legs up/ g*ging  them and  getting on top of them and saying “stay VERY still it’ll all be over soon”-before a monster shoves it’s tentacle into someone’s mouth and inserts a goo - just gay??? Similar to the sentient vine/shadow monster forcing itself down Will’s throat. Let alone Will saying things like “he made me do it”, “i felt it everywhere”, or being tied to a bed and screaming “help! stop! it hurts! let me go!” While Jonathan is the only one who’s visibly triggered by this and has to literally turn away and hug someone . Or barb, billy, and El spiting up a white liquid from their mouth (similar to will spitting up a slug and lying to his mother about it ).El/billy touching a suspicious looking slime with their hand and looking at the substance confused . El drawing Papa with 3 legs (the middle one being shorter) ,  trying to undress in front of the boys , and Benny saying “I think she’s been ab*sed or something”.The theme of ab*sive dads- brenner , Lonnie, and Neil . Even when the demogorgan (called in d&d the “deep father”/ in the show “a man without a face”) attacked Barb it’s chopped up with scenes of Nancy having c*nsensual sex (the monsters are doing the opposite symbolically). There’s way more examples but NO- to try and hand wave /equate ALL OF THIS to just “gay imagery” or an “a*ds metaphor” is WAY more problematic. And just offensive (specifically to gay people) than just admitting what it may actually represent. R*pe imagery and gay imagery is NOT THE SAME THING!

Also ST has never been a kid show- maybe rewatch the show and see the rating of tv-14 . Goodness sake- s1 has a st*ged su*icde, k*dnappings, m*rder, discussions of physics, h*mophobia, and s*x (with stancy in s1 & jancy in s2-s3). S2/3 discuss at their finalies recovering from tra*ma . S2 had gra*ic de*ths,  a man causing a women br*in damage/ and faking her m*scarriage, and a gang of vigalantes k*lling criminals. s3 had critiques on capitalism /media/s*xism, many d*eaths, and questionable imagery like the prior seasons. The Duffers constantly reference  movies & events from the 80s (capitalizing on 80s nostalgia /subverting 80s motifs that middle age people  from that time remember)! Those people were their intended age demographic . Most 80s centric refs go over most kids’ heads (heck a lot went over my head too since I wasn’t alive in the 80s XD).The Duffers even said in the book “worlds turned upsidedown”  “it’s not a kid’s show despite having kids”. And maybe it’s a coincidence but when Lucas in s3 hands Will the “devil’s baby” firework (a hint about Lonnie) he says “18 and over only.” Which idk is a weird/random af line unless it’s foreshadowing that the show will get darker about various themes- and maybe even change ratings.

I get people wishing nothing bad ever happened to Will or Jonathan. And being apprehensive and not trusting the Duffers to do such a story justice (cause it’s difficult to do). But personally i trust them to do so tastefully with tact and not be exp*itative, (overly gr*fic) or offensive to v*ctims. You can disagree and think the show is about something else (or not trust the Duffers)- but it’d be great if people could stop using these other messed up talking points. While trying to appear ‘(fake) woke’ and like they care for victims- cause we see through it that you really don’t.

Have a lovely day anon ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Update- I just really agreed with and appreciate the tags in this reblog

[the100thtwilightmaze]

Warmth (Sam Uley)(August 8th, 2020)

ummmmmmmm hey yall. this is my first imagine in a LONNNNNNGGGGGG TIME. like I'm talking maybe two or three years 😬 AND LET ME START BY SAYING I AM SORRY THAT IT'S SO LONG but I was on a roll and didn't want to lose it 😂 thank you to all my followers that stayed and a BIG THANK YOU to the anon that sent this in for getting me back in the writing game. I love all of you so much and I hope yall enjoy 💓💓💓

The whole Sam leaving Leah for Emily thing where? Leah and Emily are still thick as thieves because all my ladies deserve happiness.

(and I had to give my girl Leah some extra happiness because there's nothing about her finding love)

(I already know there are probably some proofreading errors I missed! sorry!)

You hadn’t laughed this hard in years. The source of your laughter, being illuminated by the flames of bonfire, continued with his onslaught of jokes.

You had come to the beach to breathe. The stress of your job had begun to wear you down. You just needed one minute of quiet and basically threw yourself onto the sands of La Push’s beach.

Your barefeet were dug deep into the sand with your hands to match, eyes closed when a shadow fell over you.

You cracked one eye open to see a young boy standing over you.

“Sorry about this but they sent me over here to see if you were okay.” he said, pointing over his shoulder at group further down the beach surrounding a fire.

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Just a little tired.” you replied, throwing a wave to the group.

“Well, you can come over to hang with us if you want. We really don’t mind and you’re kind of depressing us to be honest.” the young boy offered.

That caused you to chuckle.

After taking the job in Forks, it had been difficult to make new friends. All of your coworkers had years of knowing each other on you so you were left taking lunch breaks by yourself and always being the last to leave.

So, yeah.

Meeting new people wouldn't hurt.

“If you’re sure.” you replied, standing up and dusting the sand off of your ass.

And that’s how you found yourself doubling over in laughter.

Sam Uley. You found yourself gravitating towards him immediately. Finding a seat next to him, you teetering on the edge of a water beat log.

You’d all been there for hours, the night growing pitch black dark when you all decided to finally call it quits.

You had already swapped numbers with all the members of the group (you kind of just wanted to get Sam’s but you couldn’t make it obvious).

"Hey, Y/N! We'll be back next week. You better be here!" Leah had yelled over her shoulder, trotting back to the parking lot hand in hand with her girlfriend. The two looked happy.

"I think you should listen to her." Sam said, casting you a sideways glance. The two of you trailing the two women back to your respective vehicles.

"Is that so?" you countered.

"Oh, yeah. Trust me. You don't want to get on Leah's bad side." he chuckled.

The two you of you had made it to the emptying parking lot now, coming to a slow halt by your car.

"And is Leah the only one that wants me to come?" you inquired, your confidence overshadowing your nerves.

Sam gave you a sideways smirk and you could've sworn you saw a tinge of red coming to the surface of his cheeks before he cast his gaze downward.

"Definitely not." you heard him whisper.

That caused a chuckle of your own which caused his eyes to meet yours once again.

And then he took a single step closer. His whole body being just that much closer. You could feel his warmth from here.

His face inched closer to yours.

Your eyes closed, bracing yourself.

And then you heard your car door open.

"Be careful, Y/N. There's a storm coming."

*********

The next few months were filled with your new found friends. Each week bringing you closer to all of them, your workplace problems long forgotten.

You were happy. You were so happy you were glowing, radiating with a newfound joy.

That was until today. You had gone to the the beach for your usual meet up with the group, the cookies you baked still warm in the tupperware in your hands.

But you found no one.

You had called. You had texted. But no one replied.

Not Leah.

Not Paul.

Not Seth.

Not Emily.

Not Sam.

You had driven to the Clearwater residence. If the group wasn't at the beach, they could usually be found here.

But nope once again.

Your knocks, just like your calls and texts went unanswered.

You were growing frustrated.

It had started to rain, quickly going from a light drizzle to a downpour.

You waited out the storm on the Clearwater's porch hugging your jacket closer to you, trying to shield yourself from the rain.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

20 minutes.

The time ticked on. No replies to your calls/texts or your continuous knocks.

But the universe decided to take pity on you, maybe finally deciding that enough was fucking enough.

The rain had eased up. The sun deciding to make its appearance.

"Thank, God." you muttered, making your way back to your.

But movement at the treeline caught your eye.

You moved closer. You knew it was dumb. You had seen the horror movies and cursed at the the protagonist whose movements you were now copying.

But your curiosity was piqued.

It was Paul.

It was Paul being yelled at by a very pissed off Sam.

You had never seen him like this. He was trembling, the muscles in his back taut underneath his reddened skin. His words, inaudible to you, were continually being viscously thrown at a uncharacteristically quiet Paul.

And then thunder clapped.

And there was no longer Sam Uley.

It was a wolf. A giant wolf but a wolf nonetheless. Jet black and still very angry.

You had started to ease back now, your mind reminding you that this wasn't a horror movie and you were not an actress.

If this thing decided to kill you right now there was no body double to take your place. It would just be you.

Fucking dead.

Your trembling hand found the trunk of your car with an audible thump.

Thunder clapped.

The wolf's eyes met yours, widening with surprise.

You had started to move back to your driver's door, trying to make no sudden movements. You pulled on the handle to find it locked, your doors automatically locking after a certain amount of time.

You pushed the unlock button repeatedly, only to be reminded that your remote battery was dead.

You refused to take your eyes off the wolf who had taken a couple of steps closer to you.

Tears were streaming down your face.

Your hands were trembling viscously now.

Your breath coming out in short bursts.

"Y/N!" you heard Paul call to you, running towards you.

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in.

Flight won.

You gave up with your war on the door handle, your hands shaking too much to be of any use.

You tried the Clearwater's door again.

"Mrs. Clearwater! Please! Help me!" you screamed, pounding on the door.

Someone grabbed your arm from behind, turning you to face them.

"Y/N, breathe." Sam urged, his large hands coming to cup the sides of your face.

His eyes.

They were the same. The same eyes that you had looked into for the past seven months. The same eyes that you had fallen in love with.

The same eyes as the wolf's.

You were frozen. Your mind confused, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Sam, you're scaring her." Leah said, coming into view prying Sam away from you.

Together, you walked through the front door.

*******

You had stayed with Leah for the next few weeks, choosing complete silence for the first few days. Not eating. Not drinking.

Leah was patient. She let you sleep in her bed. She got you to eat. She soothed you and assured you that you were okay. And most importantly she kept Sam away.

You could hear them arguing from your place under Leah's cover every night. Sam begging to see you, begging to "explain". Leah arguing that you needed time.

But you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't stay in this state of confusion. This wasn't healthy for your mental state. Your mind had been trying so hard to make sense of what you saw all those weeks ago.

A cult? Dark magic? Shapeshifters?

"Leah, it's okay. He can come." you croaked, your voice altered from weeks of minimal use.

Sam appeared at her bedroom door in a nanosecond.

He stood there, seeming almost afraid to move any closer.

"It was you wasn't it?" you whispered.

A moment of silence.

"Yes." he replied.

You had already known the answer but still let out an audible gasp at his answer.

"But you won't hurt me?" you asked, the statement coming out as more of declaration than a question.

"Y/N, I would never hurt you." he answered, slowly moving to take a seat next you on Leah's bed.

"Tell me everything." you implored.

And that's exactly what he did. For the next eight hours he sat across from you, telling you the tribe's history and legends.

The third wife.

Vampires.

Wolves.

Imprints.

He told you everything. And by the end of the night you had felt a peace you hadn't known in weeks. None of this should've made any sense but it made sense to you. Your questions answered. Your mind being able to rest.

You were both laying down now.

He was so close. You could feel his warmth.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that. But Y/N, I need you to understand that I would never hurt you." he whispered, his thumb trailing over my cheek.

"There's nothing that I wouldn't do for you. You ask it and I'll do whatever I can to give it to you. If you asked me to leave right now, even though this is the happiest I've felt since Leah took you away that night, I would. If you told me to never speak to you again, you would think I disappeared from the face of the planet. But I hope that you don't because.... I love you. And I know that this is crazy and that I turn into a giant, scary ass wolf that fights leeches and that you didn't ask for any of this....." he had started to ramble, his eyes shutting in obvious frustration.

"Sam Uley, shut up and kiss me." you interrupted, your body already gravitating towards his.

And when your lips met, that was it.

You were at peace. You were home. You were happy.

You were his.

[thronesofshadows]

Salt Bridges (pt. 2) || Nicole & Evelyn

TIMING: A couple weeks before Christmas, right after this LOCATION: The Artesian PARTIES: @nicsalazar​ and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Shared honesty can be scary but sometimes, just sometimes, it turns out alright. CONTENT: Mentions of parental death

“Oh, shit. So— this is...it’s pretty”. It was an understatement, but Nicole wasn’t sure how else to put it. If she had felt uncomfortable at Al’s, being inside Evelyn’s bar was on a different level. She was rarely seen in the East End, and there was a reason for that. She didn’t belong, the luxurious beach houses on the way to the bar were a cold reminder of that. But Evelyn had wanted her company. It was another, more hopeful reminder. She obviously didn’t care if she wasn’t refined enough. She looked around, admiring the decoration inside. No wonder the woman spoke with so much pride about it. She swung a paper bag in her hands, lips pressed into a line. She had brought her food—she was technically still hungry— but she wasn’t sure she’d want to unpack the greasy diner meal anymore. “You…how—” she glanced at Evelyn then, partly waiting for instructions, partly trying to check on her after everything that happened at the diner. Her bar, on the other hand,  appeared empty, safe. No salt shakers in sight. There was no reason for things not to significantly improve throughout the evening. “You okay, right? I can still leave if— wouldn’t hurt my feelings” the corner of her mouth curved into a grin, her bag bouncing again.

Evelyn couldn’t help but grin as they’d arrived at the bar and made their way inside. She had a good deal of confidence in her bar, but she always enjoyed seeing people’s reactions to it, and knowing that yes, she had done a good job of it. Besides, even after everything at the diner, Nicole still wanted to be around her, she hadn’t bowed out with some sort of excuse and Evelyn highly doubted that she was a hunter. She seemed human and if anything, she’d seemed alarmed by the salt as well. Nicole wasn’t a ghost, though - for one, others could see her, and for another, despite how much she’d longed for that sort of ability, she knew that was one that her species lacked. (Though, she was once again reminded of what Deirdre and Nadia had told her, she supposed that she wasn’t really missing much). “You can sit wherever you please, though might I recommend at the bar? That way we do not have to yell in order to speak while I get you a drink.” She twisted her lips around at Nicole’s question. “I am quite alright, yes - and no, please stay. I - I want you to stay, okay?” She looked over to her. “Besides, if you have more questions or anything, we are alone now and therefore I am more able to answer.”

Nicole turned, eyes landing on the bar. Of course. “Right...that’d be—don’t know what I was waiting for”. It was less intimidating than the rest of the lounge, but she still had a nagging thought that even the napkins were worth more than anything she owned. “Okay” she said quietly, once Evelyn confirmed she was fine. “I do— I have a lot of questions, I don’t know if...” she hesitated before walking over to the bar. She didn’t know where the line was drawn when it came to questions. Maybe some could wait until both had alcohol in their systems. Though, that raised another question: If food didn’t do much for her, could Evelyn get drunk then? She leaned half of her body against the chair — afraid to touch it too much— and rested her elbows on the counter, eyeing the bottles behind with a childlike smile. She didn’t dare to get her paper bag anywhere near the counter, placing it on the next chair instead. “Just so you know, I’ll drink anything you recommend” she trusted Evelyn’s judgment. Selecting one of the dozens of questions she had in mind was not an easy task. She watched Evelyn in silence, studying her while she decided on one. The beginning, she figured. The moment that shaped people like her or Evelyn differently than humans. “How did you know? That you were...”

“I mean, normally I have staff in the front telling people where to go, so it is not an issue. I know this can be a lot to take in.” Evelyn shrugged. “All the more reason for you to just come by when it is not open, because trust me, some of my clientele are…” Jerks. Over-entitled, which is really saying something. “Well, I think that they are not everyone’s first choice of person to spend time with. Truthfully, they are not my first choice, but they pay well and I - well, if any of them especially bother me I have fed on them. Not in the bar, but later. Trust me when I say that they absolutely deserved it. Deserve, even.” Perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate bit of conversation to continue with, but it was true, and though revealing everything about herself to anyone felt uncomfortable and unnatural, but she’d already told some things to Nicole, and she certainly didn’t regret what she’d done to feed on some of her patrons. “You can ask whatever you wish. Should it be something I do not want to answer, I will not.” She nodded. “Do you like tequila? Somehow you do not strike me as someone who drinks wine, and I have some tequila that I like to send to a friend,” Nadia, “but I keep a stock of it myself, too.” She pulled her hair up into a ponytail. “Or anything else, whatever suits your fancy. I do have imported beer somewhere, if you want that.” She was pleased when Nicole finally settled on a question. “Not human? Well, I got trapped by salt when I was a kid and watching one of my chefs cook, that was something… knew that some of my physiology is a bit odd - always had to see a special doctor. Found my mother’s journals when I was ten and broke into my father’s home office. That pretty much confirmed it all.”

“Oh—” Nicole raised her eyebrows, surprised by Evelyn’s honesty to discuss feeding habits. Even the word feeding felt strange still, but she wanted to roll with it. She remained quiet, trying to process how it made her feel. She found that she didn’t mind it. If Evelyn had to feed to stay alive, she couldn’t see the flaw in picking deplorable people to do so. She figured it was the only alternative.  “Can’t judge that”, she nodded simply. “Hey! I...I could be a wine person, you don’t know that”, she scoffed, but couldn't wipe the grin off her face. Evelyn wasn’t wrong, technically. She was predictable and boring when it came to alcohol. She didn't drink because she liked it, but for what it offered. A chance to be free of her mental prison for a couple hours. How it tasted had never mattered. She couldn't think of a single drink she’d order just for the sake of enjoying it. “I’ll take the wine. Gonna switch it up, I’m never drinking anywhere fancier than this”. Evelyn’s story sounded horrifying, and what had happened earlier in the diner punched her in the stomach again. She glanced down at the countertop, almost hoping to find the right words there. “Shit, I’m sorry—” her forehead wrinkled with concern, “couldn’t be easy”. She tried to recall previous mentions of Evelyn’s mother, but she was blanking. “I’m not sure I’m following. Your mom, she’s...like you?”  

Perhaps she was being a bit too blunt and forthcoming with all that she was saying, but at the same time, Evelyn felt safe around Nicole, and at least so far there hadn’t been any sort of judgement (at least not that she could tell). The eyebrow raising gave her a moment of pause, but any would-be anxieties went away as she saw Nicole was grinning. “I mean, sure, you could be, but I like to think I can get a read on people in that way if nothing else. No judgement, if you have met enough people who love wine you will soon find that some of them can be incredible snobs. Not all - I have a friend,” Jasmine, “who knows her way around wine quite well and is not obnoxious, but some people who come in here very much are.” At Nicole’s next comment she shrugged. “Alright, I’ll find something good. You would be correct, at least not within a good number of miles around here.” She turned for a moment, grabbing a bottle of wine - Musigny Grand Cru - one of the nicest ones she had, because Nicole certainly deserved that. “It is fine, I have grown to manage now. Plus, you know, I was a bit of a spoiled child so it is not as though my throwing a tantrum was entirely… well, not entirely unexpected.” She finished pouring the wine into two glasses and brought them over to Nicole. “Yes. She was a mara, like myself. My father is very human. Did not love having a daughter who was not human, and so made me pretend to be human for much of my life. It is why I ran away and found this place. I - well, there are others like me and others who are not human in other ways too.” She took a sip of her wine. “I am quite terribly sorry if this is too much to process right now.”

Nicole forced a smile, eyes finding the counter. Her fingers began to drum again. It was unnerving, to realize someone could give a correct assessment about her so shortly after meeting her. To be known, to be “read”. She pushed past the feeling, standing her ground against the alarms going off in her brain. It was okay. A fun, harmless comment. Social interactions shouldn’t activate her flight or fight response. She exhaled, and it was over. “You’re a wine snob too, or just take advantage of them?” she gave a one shoulder shrug, willing herself back into the conversation. She watched Evelyn pour the wine with furrowed brows. She admired her ability to minimize traumatic situations, but part of her wondered if it was just a way of coping. Being a spoiled kid didn’t justify anything she had to endure. She figured Evelyn had come to realize that. Or she hoped someone had told her, at least. “So, do I do the whole…” with the glass in hand, she motioned small circles, a teasing smile on her lips before bringing the glass closer to her nose. Snobbery aside, she did always smell things before tasting them. The mix of aromas prickled her nose. It was intense. Maybe in another —better— life, her senses could’ve been useful. Her mouth went dry after taking a sip. “It’s not... bad. You like it?”.

She fell quiet then, replaying Evelyn’s words for better understanding. Nicole found that pauses didn’t feel so terrifying right now. “No— no, it’s not. Eh— okay yes, it’s...I’ll get there” it was better to be honest. “I think everything is too much to process for me, honestly”. For a brief moment, there was an opening. When Evelyn mentioned other non-humans, she considered weighing in. Sharing. Like she had tried at the diner. But the words never reached her mouth. ”How did he— he didn’t know your mom...” she shook her head in disbelief. Despite having money, none of Evelyn’s upbringing sounded positive. “I’m glad you got away”.

“Would you think me quite terrible if I said I might be both?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. It was true - though the idea of being defined by her taste in alcohol was not something she ever would have imagined her life turning into, but there were a good number of things that she never would have expected. “Only the ones who deserve it. If I find pleasure in the company of someone who likes wine, then I will only converse, nothing more.” The fact that she could be so blunt (or at least nearly as blunt and open as she found herself) with Nicole still unnerved her, but even if the other woman was entirely human, she was also someone who Evelyn felt comfortable around. “You can if you wish,” she watched Nicole swirl her glass around, watched her take a sip. “I do, but truly, if you do not, you can say so. No offense will be had on my part.” She took a sip of her wine as she watched Nicole carefully. Gently, even - though that was not an adjective she normally would have attributed to herself.

“I can understand that. For what it is worth, you are still handling it better than some.” You have yet to run out on me, which is always a positive. Evelyn looked down at her hands for a moment, not wanting to overwhelm Nicole. “He met her after one of her performances with the ballet. Asked her out, she consented, he did not know until she was due to have me and was planning to divorce her once I was born, except she died when I was only a couple of days over and I suppose that abandoning your child does not sit well with the noble classes, and so he raised me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you - he meant well, I think, but I am glad to be away from that life.”

“No—” Nicole replied slowly, but paused for a moment to ponder on the question. She didn’t think she cared too much what people chose to do with their money, and if Evelyn and others found pleasure and enjoyment in expensive wine, then it was their prerogative. “I drink cheap beer, I’ve no room to judge” she laughed, busying herself with her fancy wine again.  She took a gulp, probably bigger than she should’ve, before humming a rebuttal. “Will keep that in mind, but I think I’m warming up to it—  gonna be an expert by the time we’re done with the bottle” she examined the glass again, lighthearted laugh turning nervous when Evelyn mentioned her positive response to the information. She had to bite the inside of her cheek. “No, guess I haven’t and, I’m pretty good at running”. Of course, she had the advantage of not being human. Not many people out there shared her nature. She could interject, explain why she understood better than most. Repay some of Evelyn’s trust and honesty. Out with it. I get it, I’m not human either. Easy. Concise. Let someone else carry the weight of the words. She clicked her tongue, frustrated. Breaking a ten year deadlock on her secret turned out, was not that easy.

Nicole clenched her jaw after Evelyn continued to explain her background. “I’m—” she breathed out, shaking her head. “I’m—” sorry didn’t cover it. Sorry wouldn't work. Because Evelyn seemed to shrug off incredible painful moments with an ease that was terrifying at times. Did she feed on her own fear and she had nothing more to be afraid of? She looked at her, frowning. She wanted to understand. She had never wanted to be in somebody’s mind before. “Parents can mean well— but we deal with the aftermath” with the mess they make. She tilted her glass, finishing the content with a swift motion.

“You are more than welcome to judge,” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Though I am rather pleased that you do not think me quite so terrible.” She wasn’t sure what she would have done, were that the case - namely because she was so unaccustomed to caring for others and in doing so, she found that she truly cared for what others thought. Didn’t want them to hate her, or find her off-putting. Because she’d seen that in the eyes of too many, back home. When she stared for just a little too long, or talked about something that her father had said she should not talk about. “Though I think that I like the sound of you being an expert,” she trailed her fingers along the bar top. “I can help with that, thankfully.” She took another sip of her wine, grateful that at least it still tasted like something to her, grateful that it was somehow more satisfying than most human food. “Of course.” Of course. Her head felt light for a moment, before she re-focused back on Nicole.

“We do.” Evelyn held the words on her tongue. Though she had met many more people since moving here who told her how wrong her father’s beliefs had been. Both those who knew the full extent of it as well as those who only knew the surface. Know that my father did not understand me, wanted me to be different. She assumed that most of them figured it had to do with her sexuality or something that, while important and likely something else Lord Robert would not have approved of, only truly brushed the surface. “Thank you, I - telling you means a lot, and I do not mean this in a way of asking you to take on all of this for me.” She let her lips curve up into a soft smile, a kind one. Since when was she kind?

Nicole laughed, “yeah, not too terrible”. She focused briefly on Evelyn’s, gaze traveling behind the counter, to the wine. She silently asked permission for another glass. She knew chugging the wine as if it were beer was a terrible idea. Especially on an empty stomach. She eyed her food briefly considering it, but too embarrassed to grab it. Maybe she’d slow down before the wine crept up on her. On the other hand, she did plan on finishing the bottle. It would be okay, she had good tolerance. She let out a bitter sigh, glancing down. Without all the details, she could still relate to Evelyn’s story. How much of her life was really hers and how much was the consequences of her parents’ decisions? She let everything dawn on her.

Somehow Evelyn had trusted her enough to open up. She could’ve excused herself after the salt incident. Come up with lies and leave it there, yet she didn’t. And now Nicole carried part of her story, just like she had begun to carry Solomon’s. Was that what friends did— lighten eachother’s weights? She realized she didn’t mind picking up the load for somebody else. She only briefly glanced at Evelyn, too self conscious, too aware of everything at the moment to accept her kind smile. “Don’t need to—guess that’s what…” she furrowed her eyebrows. What was a good way of saying she appreciated the trust without assumptions? "Can I—" No. She shook her head. She offered no follow up, bringing the newly poured glass to her lips. She stopped before drinking, laying back. She let out a nervous laugh. Maybe she could try and finish a sentence. "I should— there's something I want you to—”  No. She couldn't do it. She had been close enough, just thinking about it was new for her. Maybe another day. “I understand. It’s okay. Guessing...not many know?"

She’d made someone laugh. Properly, actually laugh. The thought of that made Evelyn’s lips curve up and into a smile, though she still caught Nicole’s gaze, looking behind her, at the bottle of wine on display. Evelyn turned around for a moment and grabbed the bottle that had been opened before, “unless you would like to try another sort?” She held it up, raising an eyebrow. “Either way is good, many of my patrons can absolutely without-a-doubt be persuaded to finish this off. So really, your choice.”

She still wasn't entirely sure why Nicole was someone who she’d decided to open up to so much. Even Shiloh only knew the bare minimum - and Miriam knew a bit more, because she wasn’t human - but here Nicole was, human and everything, and Evelyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so open. So unafraid (outside of her natural abilities) to just talk about herself. “It is quite alright, I know that I am the more talkative of us two.” Especially now. She poured a glass of wine then, still the first bottle - just for now, to give the two of them something to focus on, “if you want to try something else after, just let me know.” She took a sip of her own wine. “You want me to what?” She looked quizzically at Nicole. “However, you are correct - not many know. It - well, some respond without kindness, and if certain groups know, it can put me in danger. Not to put a damper on our evening, but it is the truth of the world.” One I still wish I did not know about.

Her negative was silent, only shaking her head as Evelyn suggested a different drink. Nicole didn’t want that. She gave a pointed look at the open bottle, before she focused on the woman. She smiled coyly, patiently waiting for the refill. “Not changing my mind. I can be stubborn too”. She could only nod when Evelyn pointed out the fact that wasn’t the most talkative. It was the truth. She didn’t know how to let her know she appreciated her patience. She drank instead, this time more calmly. She could savor it, she supposed. It didn’t come as a surprise that not many knew about Evelyn’s nature, of course. She didn’t think anyone walked the town telling others about what they were for fun. “Right. Pretty shitty world”, despite not being the intention, her words did change the atmosphere. They were always going to be in danger just for existing.

“Uh— I want you to...” Nicole repeated, letting out a nervous sigh. “There’s something you should know about—” she tilted her head, almost wishing her next words would find each other in her brain. No, Evelyn shouldn’t know. Telling her wasn’t meant to be a warning. If she stayed quiet nothing would change between them. It wasn’t about what she should or shouldn’t do. “Something I need— want to tell you” she hesitated again between buying herself time with her glass or speaking out. She clenched her jaw, lifting her head to meet Evelyn’s gaze. She pleaded for her to read her mind, somehow. To pick up on the clues written all over her face, and put her out of her misery. “About… about— ”. The way her heart began to hammer in her chest loud enough that she could hear it told her the words inched closer. The truth was on the tip of her tongue. Sharing always gave her the most uncomfortable adrenaline rush. “I’m—”.

Evelyn nodded. She hadn’t expected for Nicole to wish for her to open another bottle - she felt as though Nicole would be very much the sort to not wish to waste anything - but the hostess side of her begged for her to at least offer that. She couldn’t entirely ignore it all. “Well, perhaps this is part of why I so enjoy your company.” She knew that there were more reasons, but it was still easier, sometimes, to only go surface-level. At least for now, even though she knew that Nicole’s friendship meant more to her than that. Even if she couldn’t quite always voice it. “It can be.” Given the dangers she had discovered more about in recent years, it truly could be. She didn’t like to think of things that way - in part because coming to White Crest was supposed to be a new (and safer) beginning for her. Not one where she’d ended up having to fear for her life. She’d never wished to go back to her life in England, but there were certainly parts of the life she’d created here that she could do without.

“Yes?” Nicole’s body language shifted - and she appeared far more nervous than usual - which made Evelyn raise an eyebrow.  “You want to tell me something. Right?” This was who she was - even though she knew she’d turned out to not be the loudest person in the room, but she also knew that she could be matter-of-fact if need be. “It is okay, whatever you need to tell me.” If she was a hunter, she’d have to deal with that. “I’m hardly in a place to judge you, now am I?”

Nicole merely chuckled at the comment, fighting the urge to drop some self-deprecating jab. Evelyn liked her company, even if she didn’t understand why. She had to deal with it.  Letting out a dejected hum, she considered her wine again. The depressing state of the world was reason enough to drown her sorrows in that glass, no? “It can be” she repeated. And yet, despite the constant danger the town offered, she had started to consider it home. She couldn’t picture herself anywhere else anymore. She had to be some sort of masochist.

Nicole nodded in confirmation, bracing herself. Just the thought of opening her mouth, made her heart jump into her throat. “I’m—” She looked up to the ceiling, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. It would be okay. There was no reason for Evelyn to react negatively. Especially not after what she learned earlier. Finding anyone better equipped to understand would be a hard task.  But it wasn’t just sharing a part of herself that terrified her. It all came down to admitting things to herself in the process. If it was okay for Evelyn to be Mara, did the same apply for her? Was it alright for her to be— That? Almost a decade had passed since she used the right word.  “I understand you better than— I’’m not—” channeling her own frustration, she clenched her fist as tight as she could. “I’m not...human”. She was sure she couldn’t breathe properly. She couldn’t look at Evelyn in the eye either. There was no moment of clarity after she spoke. No weight lifted off her shoulders or emotional release. Just confusion throbbing in her throat, fear stinging her eyes. She anticipated the first question she assumed Evelyn would have, opening her mouth before she could take her words back or run away from the bar. Before she turned into a coward again. “I’m—” she gripped the countertop, maybe she could write it somewhere. “I...I can turn— shift— I’m...I shapeshift. Animal— I turn into one”.

She took another sip as Nicole repeated her words, not choosing to add on to that - for now. It didn’t need to be repeated a third time, that much she knew. Except she’d found Nicole’s repetition comforting, in its own sort of way. Evelyn took another sort of sip - she’d never truly considered leaving town in the few years that she’d lived there, but there had been a moment of overwhelming, wondering if it was all too much, especially after everything with Melanie.

Evelyn did her best to hold her posture steady, to not react - because Nicole was telling her something clearly important. Important, and as the words began, Evelyn felt a wave of relief wash over her. She focused in on the word understand, but quickly shook that thought out of her mind because she didn’t want to miss anything that Nicole was saying. Nicole, who was usually so careful with her words, but who was now seemingly nervous made Evelyn feel bad, for a moment. She hadn’t wanted to force her into any of this, but she also wanted to be there for her however she could, be someone who people could tell things to. Since when are you like this? She asked herself, memories of actively ignoring others from when she was a child up through when she was a teenager at least. Because none of them really mattered - they were all far too human to matter beyond understanding how to blend in. Not human. In lieu of a smile, Evelyn sucked in her lower lip. Like a werewolf? She wondered, for a moment. Let Nicole’s words settle between them before she nodded. Finally allowed a smile to cover her face - though it was small, gentle, as welcoming as she was able. “Nicole, thank you for sharing that with me. If I may - I do find that to be quite extraordinary. If I also may, might I ask if there is a name for what you are? I only ask because I am not aware of all too many beings - and I do not want to assume the wrong thing.”

Many times Nicole heard that sharing worked for people. Getting things out. It was supposed to be therapeutic or cathartic or whatever. But everytime she dared to mention something about herself other than what she considered safe and superficial, a deeply uncomfortable sensation sat in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure why, but it certainly didn’t tempt her to do it often. She unclenched her fist, but her breathing remained shallow. Her heart was the loudest thing in the room, as Evelyn granted them some silence. She gave her one shy look, to ensure things had gone okay. She was smiling and it almost made her want to smile back at her. She didn’t remember how.

Her gaze stayed low when Evelyn thanked her, guilt gnawing at her. A bitter laugh caught in her throat at the word extraordinary. It sounded familiar, yet distant. Too many years had passed since she last heard her family boast about themselves. Since they would lecture her about their lineage, their culture, and everything she used to roll her eyes at. Evelyn’s tone was different, however. Gentle. It didn’t feel earned, but she wasn’t gonna contradict her. “A-a name?”. Nicole took a shaky breath through her mouth, eyes brimming with unshed tears after she heard the woman’s question. A name. She shook her head curtly, not because she was refusing, but because she didn’t think she’d be able to answer. Even in her thoughts she worked around that word. Twisting sentences and meanings just to evade it. Saying it was heavier. More meaningful. She had no means to untangle that word from her most painful memories. From everything that cost her. Family, friends, love. Her chance to grow into adulthood like a normal teenager. Being that thing took everything from her.  Ripped her apart. And she was still trying —and failing— to pick up the pieces ten years later.

“Uh—” The chance of changing all that was there, even if Nicole couldn’t consciously grasp it. Evelyn didn’t have to know how much it hurt. Not now. She only wanted a name. A small request. Yet in her curiosity, she was unknowingly helping her unlock a door she had never been able to open by herself. She just had to be brave enough to cross the threshold. “Balam...” her body tensed and for the first time, she understood what heartache really meant. Her chest tightened, but she managed to keep the tears in. She was proud of that, at least. “Means...it means jaguar”.

She hoped that she didn’t come off as cold to Nicole. Evelyn knew that she could be that way, sometimes. The newspapers back home had reveled in it - though if she thought about it enough now, she became more acutely aware that it was more due to remaining only in her home rather than being allowed to go out into the world. Though she liked to think that she understood humans at least well enough, she also knew that being given everything material that she could have wished for did lead her to be spoiled, and to perhaps look down upon others. She knew that she certainly didn’t feel that way with Nicole, and so she could only hope that the other woman didn’t think she was anything but at least somewhat warm. At least enough to not make Nicole regret choosing to share this with her.

Perhaps asking more specifically had been too much, but Evelyn was also not about to back down now. If Nicole knew, then Evelyn wanted to know. Wanted to understand more beyond the basics that she had. Beyond what she was and only a bit else. Finally knowing the name for what she was had been such a relief, though she had come to realize over the years that that same sentiment didn’t apply to everyone. Not that she’d been able to use the name of what she was outloud much at all until running away to White Crest. Balam. Before she let herself speak, Evelyn’s hands found Nicole’s own and she held them softly, gently, for just a few moments - letting her gaze rest on the other woman. “Thank you for telling me.” She kept her breathing steady - hoping, on some level, that it would help to steady Nicole’s. “That - that sounds quite,” she bit her lip. “Brilliant, if I am permitted to say so. I promise I will keep your secret. I - it means a lot that you told me.” She gave Nicole’s hands another squeeze, not yet moving her own hands away.

The moments that followed her confession were all blurry and jumbled together, and Nicole only managed to endure them thanks to the adrenaline running through her veins. Once she found herself alone with her thoughts, she would be able to process the events of the day. Only then, the magnitude of what she had done would dawn on her. And there would be time for regrets and fear. But at the moment, it seemed her brain had disconnected. Her leg bounced without permission. As it was always the case, she was hit by an instinctive urge to run. Physically and figuratively running came before everything. Running kept her safe. But running had gotten her nowhere in life. A change in tactics was needed. She was lightheaded. Drained. The only thing she could focus on was her erratic heartbeat and the counter. Looking at Evelyn wasn’t an option.

It took seconds for Nicole to register the touch. The surprise clear in her tear-filled eyes when she finally glanced up. Any other time, she would have resisted it. Not because it was unwanted, but because she didn’t know how to accept it. It would have startled her. But she seemed to be out of her body at the moment, and whoever was at the wheel didn’t mind Evelyn’s hands on her own, keeping her grounded. “Y-Yeah…” She squeezed briefly, just a few seconds, in hopes the woman understood the gesture was appreciated. Gently, she let go. The smile that reached her lips was foreign. Sheepish. Yet her shoulders relaxed, as if she had gotten away with something. She didn’t know how to reply to any of what Evelyn was saying. If it had been allowed, she would have said nothing at all. She took advantage of the small momentum she had gained, choosing honesty. “I don’t really get along with— what’s inside. So, you’re the first— it’s been a while— real long time...since I’ve told...” she explained, letting out a laugh. She found her glass again, slowly sliding it closer. “Uh— think...I think— uh, that’s as far as I can go” she hoped her words sounded apologetic, but she didn’t trust herself in finding the appropriate tone.

At least Nicole was responding to her gesture, which meant that she’d done something right, she figured. Though in the past year more people had chosen to come to her for advice or had remarked that she appeared to know what she was doing, Evelyn never felt entirely certain. She understood how things worked from an objective, sometimes clinical, standpoint, but being vulnerable to others and allowing others to be vulnerable to her without some sort of ulterior motive was still wholly new to her. She let Nicole drop her hand when it seemed necessary, though she kept her hands laid out on the bar top, just in case. “Thank you for letting me be the first you have told.” She glanced down at her hands for a moment. It was almost too much, she thought. Almost, but not quite. Just enough that it stung but not so much she couldn’t manage. Nicole trusted her. Trusted her and was not terrified of her - though Evelyn figured that thanking her for either of those things might just throw everything for even more of a loop.

“You do not have to say anything more.” She shook her head. “You - I appreciate you confiding in me.” Evelyn found her own glass in turn with Nicole. Took another sip. Part of her longed to say something more, but letting at least this part of the conversation was perhaps, by now, for the best. “So, am I going to turn you onto wine?” She grinned. “Not so bad, is it?”

A weary sigh escaped through Nicole’s lips when Evelyn threw her a lifeline. A way out of the conversation. Her frown softened, and the relief almost flipped her stomach. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to repay Evelyn's understanding anytime soon. A laugh caught in her throat. It helped her body shake some of the tension she held since the saltshaker. She could use a laugh. Even a smile, so she allowed herself that. Whether it was genuine or down to nerves, she’d figure it out later. Giving her opinion on wine seemed exactly the kind of thing she had the mental energy for. “Eh, maybe?” lifting one shoulder, her eyes narrowed playfully. “Guess I’ll need more to really make up my mind”. It was still in her plans, to drink all the expensive wine she could. And though Evelyn had given her the perfect excuse to let the conversation move, there was still something bothering. Something she wasn’t able to say before. She didn’t care if it was implied. It didn’t matter how understanding Evelyn was of her inability to say words. It felt too important to be left unsaid.

Nicole’s smile grew slowly, eager to say it now that her mind was on a break. She was surprised by how composed she sounded when she spoke again.“Thank you”. It wasn’t just for the free wine, or the friendly ear, not even for Evelyn’s own vulnerability earlier. She couldn't navigate all the feelings at the moment, but she knew it was more than that. She examined Evelyn’s face, making sure she was alright with that particular conversation to continue another time. “I am...very ready to finish that bottle,” she admitted. And hopefully, there would be more superficial matters to discuss. For once, she wouldn’t mind small talk.

[suphoshi]

BURN | Bobby x Female Reader

Genre: Gangster AU, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Deals with mature themes, explicit language, physical violence (nothing domestic), explicit language, possible PTSD triggers, + other dark themes (read with caution please!)

Word count: 17,094 (lol kill me)

Sometimes he reminded you of fire.

Not something raging or destroying like a house burning or a tree set aflame, but something you sit in front of when your toes are too cold, desperate to feel the warmth in your bones when you feel like a hollow shell. Its passion bleeds through you like a welcome home and you want to stare at its brilliance until it eventually dies out. When it does, it breaks your heart so much to see it go that you light it again, an eternal flame that you couldn’t live without. The orange hues that make your heart the happiest, make you think that the heavens have to be real because how could something be so beautiful. You reach out because you want to touch it, you need to know how it feels, if the flames are as soft as they look, but when you do the burn extends up your palm like a warning. ‘Stay far away, I’m pretty on the outside, but inside I’m waiting to destroy something as precious as you’.

A flame you could never touch. A treasure you could never hold.

Bobby held the deepest and darkest parts of you, and sometimes you wished you could hold his. He kissed your tears away when terrible things popped up behind your eyes at night, demons of a past you always tried to wish away but somehow never left, held you pressed against his chest until you felt a little less broken. He let you shine in such dazzling ways, dressed you in diamonds and silk, showed you off at parties, kept you pressed to his side like the most magnificent trophy he’d ever held. He looked at you like you were starlight (it broke your heart a little to think he never saw it before you).

It was winter when you met him. Snow clung to the leafless trees, but you loved the crisp air that came with the cold. Loved how it stole your breath away and breathed life into you at the same time. You would go on walks at night, the clearest sky ever above, stars dancing to the rotation of the earth, moon full and glimmering as if to say ‘I own this world. The sky belongs to me.’ You were feeding a stray kitten outside of your apartment building when it looked up at you with twinkling eyes. It meow ’ed and started to walk away, looking back as if you were supposed to follow, as if it was taking you home. It reminded you that you truly did feel lost, no real family or home to call your own. This cat was probably more loved than you had ever been in your entire life. So, you followed. It never strayed too far, never stopped looking back to make sure you were still there, always keeping the closest eye on you. It was funny, how this was the most wanted you had ever felt, how you never had someone who looked back for you, someone who made sure you weren’t lost.

You made it to a park beside the woods when it stopped, turning back and winding itself around your legs. You smiled and reached down, half expecting it to run away, but instead it let you lift it into your arms and scratch the top of its head while it purred. It was a comforting feeling, to know that this little being trusted you, that it felt comfortable enough to let you carry it in your arms like an old friend. You were whispering things to her (finding out shortly after, she was in fact a she) about the snow, the stars, the forest, how you would call her Yuki (you saw it on a web search just the day before when trying to name another stray cat that ended up leaving), when you heard a commotion coming from somewhere in the trees, loud thumps and branches cracking. You looked over at the heavily dense woods and held Yuki tight to your chest, unsure if it was to protect her or to protect you.

“Hello?” You called out, hoping it was just your imagination that it sounded like a fight going on. You heard muffled groans, harsh voices as you stepped closer to the tree line when a group of men ran out, shoving past you. You nearly screamed but it instead came out like a choked gasp, scared to say anything that might make them stop and hurt you. When they were gone, having passed by you without a second glance, Yuki pushed at your chest and jumped down from your arms, running into the woods. It was strange, how the attachment you had for her already made you follow.

“Yuki!” You yelled out, following close behind as she slowed near a figure on the ground. It wasn’t until you got closer and it rolled over on its own that you realized it was a person. It took hold of you, the fear the sight of his face caused, bruised and bloody, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His left eye was already too swollen to open, but it didn’t really matter because he looked unconscious. The sight triggered memories inside your brain, still frames of your past flooding back as if it was yesterday, a life where you had a family, faces flashing by at an alarming rate, your mothers when your dad came home drunk and angry, your brother after school when he tried to fight anyone who looked at you wrong, your father’s after the crash. Eyes dead and empty, the same eyes you saw on your mom and brother that same night, looking into your soul like they could see right through you. Like they were accusing you of a wrong you never committed, like it was unfair they all died, and you lived.

Yuki meow ‘ed, jumping on the man’s chest and the sound snapped you out of the trance you were in, causing you to move closer until you stood just above him. He wore a black suit with a white button-down shirt that was covered in blood, the first few buttons undone so you could see the sliver chain that dipped below and down his chest. His hair was a mess, dark brown and curly, sticking to his forehead, but you could see that he was probably more put together before whatever happened with those men.

“Hey, are you okay?” Stupid. As if you couldn’t see that he was broken and bleeding in front of you. You squatted down, tucking your hair behind your ears so you could get closer, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. He took a deep shuddering breath when you made contact and you immediately pulled away, grabbing your phone. You watched as Yuki curled up on top of him, like he was her resting place for the night. She rested her head just under his neck, and for some reason the sight made your heart ache. He looked so broken, and Yuki just wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone. Tears sprung to your eyes and you weren’t sure why, heart racing because you didn’t want to leave him alone ever. You didn’t even know him.

Your hands shook as you tried to dial the police, messing up the first few tries before you finally got it right.

“Hello? Yes, I’m with a man who’s been attacked, he needs an amb-“ You were cut off by the man grabbing your wrist and pulling you down, your hand dropping from your ear to keep you from falling on top of him. His unswollen eye was open, glaring at you when he reached across and grabbed your cell phone, ending the call.

“No police.” He mumbled out, groaning at the movement he made.

“You’re really hurt, you should go to the hospital.” You said, desperate. Yuki was readjusting herself after he inadvertently shoved her off, no concern at all for his current state.

“No. Police.” He repeated, more emphasis on his words that time, breathing haggard. His gaze was fierce, effectively shutting you up. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, too scared to stare at him for too long because his face reminded you of too many dark things. His hand remained wrapped around your wrist and you were acutely aware of the tug it had on your heart.

He hissed as he tried to pull himself up and it was instinct alone that made you grab his arm to help him. He was out of breath, spending up all of his energy in that minimal movement, yet somehow found the strength to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, dialing a number and pressing it to his ear.

“It’s me. I have to lay low for a while. Seunghyun’s people knew I would be alone. They knew everything.” He mumbled out. You kept your hand on his arm, too scared he would fall back if you let him go (too scared you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body again). Yuki laid in his lap and you stared at her pointedly, as if she could understand the danger she might be in if he realized she was there, never worrying about the danger you might be in for doing the same thing.

“Get everything ready. When I come home, I want them to know I’m coming for them.” His face was so pale, and the moonlight hit his eyes in such a way that he looked scary. Still, you didn’t actually feel scared of him. He ended the call and shoved his phone back into his coat pocket, wiping his hand down the left side of his face, smearing blood along with it.

“Help me stand up.” He demanded suddenly, not waiting for your answer as he pushed himself off the ground. Yuki jumped off of his lap and you had to wrap your arms around his chest, a squeal falling from your lips as you tried to support his weight. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took all of the strength in your legs to keep the two of you upright, praying to every God there was that you wouldn’t break your ankle, you couldn’t afford it.

“You can’t walk on your own!” You shouted, annoyance and worry now overrunning your thoughts, scared of the dependence he now had on you as you could feel his knees buckling every few seconds. “How can you expect to go anywhere like this?!”

You groaned under him as you pulled an arm away, grabbing his hand that slung over your shoulder and holding onto it while your other arm remained secured around his waist.

“How far away do you live?” He breathed out and you stared up at him, blood now smeared on your sweatshirt. He looked down at you, and your breath caught in your throat. You heard the things he said on the phone. Knew logically that he was a bad person, a person who was caught up in ugly things that you needed to stay out of, but in your heart, you just wanted to help him. You felt like you needed to help him. His eyes were going in and out of focus and you knew you didn’t have much time before you would have to drag him.

“Not far, just a few minutes.” You said softly.

“Your apartment then. Let’s go there.” He replied. You were already turning to walk him before he replied. Your limbs were aching when you made it to the front of your apartment building, trying your best to move quickly so you wouldn’t draw attention. You had pulled a mask out of your pocket before you made it out of the woods, putting it on him to try and shield some of his face. He stayed quiet the entire time, saving his energy to walk, knowing that you couldn’t do it alone. When you made it into the building, Yuki trailing behind you the entire way, you led them both into the elevator and felt his legs start to give.

“Don’t, please, we’re almost there.” You pleaded, pressing the button to your floor. He found some energy in your words, straightening up a little during the ride up and walking out with you when the doors finally opened. You pressed in the code to your apartment and led him in, too tired to be embarrassed about the state of the place. It was tiny, a kitchen, a bathroom, and your bedroom/living room – still almost more than you could afford. You helped him to your bed and tried your best to sit him down carefully knowing it would hurt worse to let him fall. His arm dropped from your shoulders and you wrapped your hands around his neck, lowering him back before lifting his legs up onto the bed. After that, you fell to your knees, arms resting on the bed beside him. You took your time catching your breath before looking up at him. He was out cold, breaths even and deep, hoping that was a sign he didn’t have any broken ribs.

Yuki climbed up your bed and onto his chest where she had been, and you stared at her incredulously before walking to the kitchen, filling up a bowl with water. You found your first aid kit under the sink, an old thing you had gotten years ago when you moved in, everything in it probably expired or unnecessary for what he needed, but you hoped you might find something useful. After grabbing a washcloth and walking back towards the man on your bed, you sat down beside his head and pulled the mask off of him, dampening the rag before cleaning at the small cuts on his face. It seemed like most of the blood came from a gash above his swollen eye, finding no other major cuts around it. The entire left side of his face was a dark red, extending from his eye down to his jaw. His lip was also split, and you dabbed at it gently. Once his face was clean, you took a moment to really look at him, grateful he was unconscious. Besides the now swollen shut eye, strangely the prettiest purple and blue you had ever seen, he was handsome. Maybe the most handsome man you had ever been so close to. His jaw framed his face perfectly, squared and defined, plump lips prominent though you weren’t sure if it was because they were swollen or not. You remembered his brown eyes (well, eye) from before and wished he was able to open them both now, wish you could see his face the way it was meant to be, an anger resting over your shoulders that you hadn’t felt before, wondering how someone could harm a face so pretty.

You quickly shook yourself out of your thoughts and decided that you needed to take his shirt off, needed to find out if he was hurt anywhere else. You plucked Yuki off of his chest and moved her to lay on the other side of his head, where she quickly found a comfortable resting place on his shoulder. Unbuttoning and removing his shirt was difficult, being that he was wearing a suit jacket, but you didn’t have the heart to cut it. It looked so expensive. So, you took off his cuff links – setting them on the nightstand, undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled him back and forth until you could get the them off. There was a deep gash on his side that looked like it was from a knife, extending from below his ribs and down to his hip accompanied by a large bruise higher up on his rib cage. You cleaned around the wound as much as you could before grabbing a stack of gauze from your first aid kit and putting pressure. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you still taped the gauze in place, scared that he would bleed onto the sheets while he slept. You tried your best to ignore the rest of his body, but it was… difficult to say the least. He was a well-defined man, abs splaying out across his stomach like he was born with them, arms toned and strong. He looked like the kind of guy another man might envy, someone who didn’t have to try very hard to be attractive. It made you angrier knowing that he was strong enough looking to defend himself but was still hurt like this.

You pressed antibiotic cream to the small cuts on his face and his eye and moved to your dresser to find an old t-shirt you could put him in. It was surprisingly easier than expected to get on him, though it still left you out of breath, deciding he could change his own pants when he woke up. After you finished, you walked to the kitchen and put all of your supplies away, not really sure how to act now that there was a stranger in your house. You wanted to shower, his dried blood caking your nails and making you uncomfortable, but it felt strange. He could wake up any time and walk in, hurt you, murder you, steal all of your belongings. You sat on the floor beside the bed staring at his profile and thought about it for a long time before deciding you would take a short one, enough to wash your hair and clean the blood off of your hands.

After the quickest ten-minute shower of your life, you changed into your pajamas and walked out, only to find him in the same position you left him, Yuki back on his chest where she had been before you changed his shirt. The disappointment that rested on your shoulders said too much. You rolled out a blanket on the floor and laid down, mind running too quickly for you to keep up with. When the exhaustion finally let your mind rest, your eyes shut like a prison door, no temptations to open them or fear to keep you up worrying about the stranger that laid in your bed.

When morning came, he was still there, in that same position. Yuki was clawing at the door to go out, so you pulled on your jacket and shoes and took her. She was only gone for fifteen minutes and you were just about to abandon hope that she was coming back when she climbed onto the bench you were seated on and crawled into your lap. You smiled and zipped her into your jacket, scared your neighbors might complain if they saw her in the daylight, before walking back to the apartment.

It didn’t shock you this time, noting that he still hadn’t moved. You ordered food for two, set out an extra plate, expecting him to wake up any time. Fourteen hours had passed and if you hadn’t seen his chest rising, you would have thought he was dead. He slept through your entire meal. Slept through the movie you played on your laptop, slept through you crying at the ending. Slept through you talking to yourself, talking to Yuki, talking to him.

“I guess you can stay. It’s so weird, I don’t know you at all, but it’s nice to not be alone. Nice to have someone. Even a stranger. Plus, Yuki seems to like you more than me even though I’m the one who feeds her, so if you leave, I imagine she’ll leave to.” You rambled on and on about things that didn’t matter, but still found yourself eager to tell him.

“I have to work tomorrow, so I kind of hope you’re awake by then. No offense, but I don’t know if we’re close enough for me to trust you in my apartment alone. I don’t even know your name. I’ll have to take my laptop to work with me probably, it’s the only thing here worth any value.”

You laughed at the random videos you found scrolling through YouTube and eventually find yourself tired enough to lay back on your makeshift bed and sleep. Honestly, you had never felt so safe. He was a stranger who you had shared no more than fifteen words with, but at least you weren’t alone. And you weirdly trusted Yuki’s judgement, trusted that she could sense he was a good person on the inside.

You dreamt for the first time in a long time, dreamt of someone holding your hand, showing you galaxies that you never knew existed, swimming through oceans filled with stars that were close enough for you to touch. When your hand reached out to grab the brightest one, another hand beat you to it, snatching it away and you whined, looking over at the star thief. It amazed you how you could see his smile so vividly even though you had never seen it in real life. This stranger who took over your apartment now flooding your dreams and you loved how complete it made you feel in that ocean of stars.

“Give it back!” You shouted and he laughed, teasing and taunting you by holding it so close before snatching it away. He swam off, pulling your star with him, laughing like you were friends or something closer. You chased after him, but he was too fast, body growing smaller and smaller as he moved further away. Your smile faded with him, no longer finding this dream fun.

“Wait! Wait, don’t leave me!” You shouted, and the uncomfortable chill that took over your bones broke your heart, loneliness seeping into your lungs as you breathed in an ocean full of stars that you could no longer swim in.

“Come back!” You cried, trying to swim for the surface before you drowned, but it was too late, you could feel the water pulling you down as you desperately kicked, fighting your way back to the happiness you held just minutes before with your stranger who left you alone in the dark.

“Come back!” You shouted, eyes opening in the darkness of your room, breathing heavily, no oceans or stars in sight. You sat up, heart racing as you looked up at the bed, finding it empty. The disappointment you felt was almost consuming, your heart not sure how to handle the loss of someone you didn’t know, how to handle the break in your soul when you didn’t even know his name.

“Are you okay?” His voice came from the other side of your makeshift bed and you screamed, pushing your back against your bed as If you could hide from him now.

The moonlight shined in through the window illuminating him perfectly, sitting beside where your head had been.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted and he simply shrugged in response.

“I woke up to you laughing, but then you started crying.” The look of concern on his face made you nauseous. Like it implied anything besides curiosity.

You sighed, running your hands over your face. “You scared me.”

He smiled and you get to see it outside of your dreams. It’s better than you imagined, better because it’s here, and it’s real. You hated the way your heart raced for him. Hated that you already knew it was going to end up with you broken before anything even started.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on them. You shook your head and sat up on your knees, suddenly curious about his condition.

“What about you? Are you okay?” You asked, noting that his eye was a little less swollen after nearly a full day.

He pushed his lip out in thought, nodding his head. “I’m sore, but better.”

You nodded in reply, relief flowing through. “Good. I was worried.”

“Why?” He asked and it caught you off guard.

“What?” You questioned and he looked at you. You could see his defenses rising before you even tried to invade and it made your chest ache, wondering what made him so closed off to someone who wanted to help.

“Why would you be worried about me? You don’t know me.” His words sounded like they were meant to be harsh, but you weren’t hurt by them. Instead you were just as confused as he was, wishing your chest didn’t ache every time you saw the gash on his forehead, wishing you didn’t long to see his eyes every second since you found him.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was just… worried.” You whispered, running your hands through your hair.

Your reply satisfied him enough to stop asking questions and he stood up, walking to the kitchen. He rummaged through your fridge before finding the plate you had made earlier that day, putting it in the microwave to heat up. You checked the time, 3:35am, and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. He sat in the kitchen to eat, pulled out his phone and started texting and calling people like he lived there. His voice was soft sometimes and harsh others, and you wondered who you had to be to get his soft voice. You liked it the most. Weirdly, you didn’t mind his harsh voice either, your mind easing, soul settling in a way it never had.

Yuki eventually crawled into your lap, purring in your arms, so you leaned your head against the bed and ran your hand down her back, let your mind drift off to the sound of his voice. You opened your eyes sometime later; the feeling of a blanket being pulled over your shoulders. Your hooded eyes looked up and it was him, face too close to yours, close enough that you should see the shimmer in his eyes. He stared down at you for a while, like he was trying to solve the world’s most difficult puzzle, before climbing onto the bed behind you. You didn’t move even though his hand brushed beside your ear, nerve endings on fire, yet too comfortable to stay awake. You didn’t feel scared, you didn’t feel worried. You just feel so warm. And that was enough for you.

“What’s your name?” You asked with your eyes closed, almost praying he didn’t answer. If you didn’t know his name, your heart would be safer when he left, no name to cry out in the dark when he was gone.

“Bobby.” He replied. You let it fall from your lips, loving the way it felt to say aloud, prayed you would get to say it for a long time. It was all you dreamt about that night.

The next morning started out like this – You rushing to get ready for work, pulling on clothes without looking at them, combing your hair wildly, putting on lipstick and shoving it in your pocket. You remembered as you were putting on your shoes that you wanted to grab your laptop and turned back, finding Bobby sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you before turning his attention away with a small smirk on his face.

“I won’t steal your laptop. I know it’s the only thing worth any value here.” You remembered your late night rambles to him the second he said it and wished you had time to find out what all he had heard during his supposed unconscious state, but you had no time, so you instead you ran out the front door without a word.

You hated work before, but the thought that Bobby was sitting in your apartment made it worse. You wanted to see him, talk to him, make sure he was eating. Keep him from leaving. The thoughts plagued you like nothing else, but work was important. You didn’t have any other income to support yourself, and you had no family or friends to rely on. You bartended at a place not far from your apartment, somewhere that was sketchy enough to let you work when you were only nineteen after your family died, no money to stay in college, no home to live in after the bank repossessed it. You met Sabrina, the owner of the bar, at your family’s funeral. She told you that she was a friend of your fathers and her heart seemed really genuine, took you in like her own and gave you a place to stay when you had nothing, it gave you the sense of security you desperately needed.

At first, it was okay. You made good tips because you were pretty and the men loved your innocent eyes, but after a while you realized how dark people could be. How they didn’t care if you said ‘no’ when they asked for your number or when they followed you home from work, grabbing you until you pepper sprayed them or ran.  Now you just worked because it was all you were good at; all you really knew how to do. Plus, it felt like you owed Sabrina a large debt, one that felt like it would take a lifetime to repay. She never asked for too much but made it apparent that she would be upset if you ever left. You felt stuck, torn between the life you wanted and the only person you could claim as family.

It felt like the longest shift ever, entertaining drunk men who didn’t care about anything but themselves, praying the night would end quickly. It was around 10pm when you walked to the bathroom, wanting to fix up your hair and touch up your lipstick before going home. It felt childish, the giddiness you had at the thought of seeing Bobby, excitement bubbling in your stomach like it used to when you were in middle school and had a crush on someone. You rolled your eyes at your reflection, embarrassment creeping up your neck, but still, you blotted your lips together and pinched your cheeks for some color before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Hey, y/n, leaving so soon?”

The regulars at the bar were usually easy to handle, knowing your limits and following them well, but sometimes they went too far. Miko often overstepped those boundaries, always too handsy and too bold, reaching over the counter to grab the things he wanted and whispering disgusting things in your ear that made your cheeks hot. He was in his forties, hair balding and stomach rounded from drinking every day and eating everything in sight.  It was his slurred voice in the hallway that stopped you outside of the bathroom and you immediately felt cornered, isolated away from everyone else, and somehow you felt like he knew it. His eyes glazed over in a sinister way that made your stomach sink.

“Sorry, I have to get home. I have a new cat; she’s been inside all day.” You laughed nervously, hoping to conceal your fear, but it fell off of you in waves, his eyes darkening as he pushed you back into the ladies’ room, locking the door behind him. You immediately started rummaging through your bag for your pepper spray, but he grabbed your wrists before you could find it, fingers digging marks in as he pulled them up in front of your face.

“I thought about it earlier, and we’ve never spent any quality time together. I know everyone who works here, but I don’t know you very well.” He said, voice low, the smell of alcohol wafting from him. Tears formed in your eyes as he pressed you against the sink. “How about we have a little ‘get to know each other’ session. How’s that sound?”

You fought in his grasp to no avail before lifting up your legs and kicking at him desperately, shoes barely scraping at his shins as your body was too close to do anything significant. His lips pressed to your cheek and you screamed, the only response being the back of his hand connecting with your cheek, sending you to the ground before he pounced on top of you.

“Help!” You pleaded, but no one could hear, music too loud and everyone too far away. He pressed his lips to your neck, hot and wet and everything that made your stomach turn, slamming his hand over your mouth. You bit down on his pinky, pulling your knee up to connect with his groin before he finally yelled and rolled off. Everything was a blur after that, pulling yourself off of the ground and jumping over him, running out of the bar and down the street, tears falling freely down your cheeks as everything melted together around you. You made it to your building and were half-way up the elevator when you finally felt safe. It took you too long to gather your senses, but you tried to calm yourself down, hands still shaking with fear, arms tense and the taste of blood in your mouth. The doors opened and you wiped the tears from your eyes, embarrassed that you tried to look nice for Bobby only to end up in the state you had. You combed your hands through your hair and stood outside of the apartment door for what felt like hours, trying to appear calm and cool.

You didn’t know what to do. People had reported customers at the bar before, but they just ended up with a warning in the end, or worse – the employees would end up fired, the tight knit community unforgiving. You needed the money. Needed the tips you made more than anything and you were scared to disappoint Sabrina, scared to tell her and have nothing come from it. You wanted the night to reset, wished you could go back and leave without going to the bathroom, wished you could hide from the fear that would loom over you forever. Your own stupidity broke your heart the most.

You walked into the apartment and kept your head down, pulling your shoes off, hoping for the first time since he came that Bobby wasn’t there.

“I think you need more groceries, there’s nothing here to eat.” He said from the kitchen, fridge opened as he went through everything. “Eating out every night is unhealthy.”

You walked straight to the bedroom, laughing a little and mumbling out some subpar excuse, trying your best to avoid him as you could feel the ache in your jaw. You threw your bag on the floor and went through your dresser, picking out pajamas and turning back towards the bathroom, hoping to avoid a confrontation at all costs. Things weren’t working in your favor that day, Bobby standing directly behind you as you turned around, eyes glued to yours like he knew all of your secrets when you didn’t say a word. You noted that he was wearing different clothes, wondered if he had left to get them or if he had someone bring them. Either way, he looked better in his own black t-shirt than he did in your white one, setting off a run of palpitations in your chest that you had to ignore. His eye was nearly healed, the bruise still apparent as well as the cut above his eyebrow, but the swelling was almost gone. He looked at you so fiercely, like he could hear your thoughts, causing a lump to form in your throat, eyes suddenly wet again.

His scanned your face, eyes landing on your chin when he took it in his hand, turning you away so he could inspect the bruise that was now forming on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but the anger you felt radiating off of him was anything but.

“What happened?” He asked and it was the genuine concern that flashed across his face that made you speak, telling him everything without hesitation, tears falling down your cheeks without shame. His hands dropped to his side, fists flexing every so often, especially when you told him about Miko hitting you. He never interrupted, never asked any questions. He gave you no comfort in his arms or his eyes, staring at you so intently that you wanted to hide.

When you finished, he walked out. You couldn’t follow after him, too embarrassed and ashamed to do anything but climb in the shower and try to rinse the feeling of Miko’s hands off of your wrists, rubbed the skin where his lips touched your neck until it felt raw. You wished that Bobby had pulled you in his arms and held you for the rest of the night, felt stupid as the thought crossed your mind.

When you exited the shower, you immediately got dressed, wiped the steam from the mirror so you could see your face. It looked worse than it felt. Dark purple and red that matched Bobby’s eye extending from the corner of your lip down to your jaw. You remembered the feel of Miko’s rings connecting like rocks when he slapped you and closed your eyes, the memory replaying over and over as if you could change it somehow. You shook your head and pulled your hair up, walking out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. You sat there for a long time, leftover food from a few nights before heated and sitting in front of you. Nothing tasted good, thoughts running back to Bobby’s face when he saw that you were hurt. His eyes reflecting yours, sadness settling deep inside like stone sinking in the ocean. He was gone for so long that you thought he wasn’t coming back, but just as you were standing up to go to bed, a knock came from the door. You made a mental note to give him the passcode to the apartment before you opened it, but the thought quickly left your mind.

Bobby stood there, hand gripping the back of the shirt of a man kneeled down in front of him. Blood was pouring from the man’s nose, from his mouth, both eyes black and blue, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his shirt like he was choked. It was Miko. Your hands instinctively moved to cover your mouth as you gasped, looking down at him kneeling in front of you.

“Speak.” Bobby said, nudging him with his foot.

“I’m sorry y/n, so sorry. I’ll never do it again, I’ll never come back again!” Miko cried and you looked up at Bobby. His eyes were void of any emotion and that might be the only time you were ever scared of him.

“Please let me go, I have kids at home, I promise I’ll never see you again, I’ll never do it again!” He was pleading, hands clasped together as he begged for your mercy, as if you hand any control over his life, as if you made the decisions. The thought made you sick for all of the wrong reasons.

You liked it. Liked that you had control over this person who tried to hurt you, tried to take advantage of you less than two hours before. This person who would have done worse had you not gotten free from him; the lingering feeling of his hands wrapped around your wrists becoming more apparent as you watched him beg. You wanted to see him hurt like you did, wanted to hear him cry and see him broken and bleeding. It made you nauseous, all of these new feelings you never knew you were capable of having.

“Please y/n…” You tried to feel the sincerity in his words, prayed he really did mean it, then grabbed Bobby’s hand and pulled it from his shirt, worried you were making a decision you would regret.

“Just go.” You said, watching as he hauled himself off of the ground, turning to run. Bobby grabbed his arm and turned him back, balling the front of his shirt in his fist while he pulled him close.

“If it happens again - no.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh before starting over. “If I see you again, if I hear your name across town through friends of a friend, if you touch another woman the way you did tonight,” Venom dripped from his words. “If you step within a hundred yards of her…” The air felt too cold as Bobby leaned into the other man’s ear, voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ll kill you.”

Miko’s face was white, tears pouring from his swollen eyes, fear apparent in the way he shook as Bobby shoved him away.

“I know lots of people around here.” Bobby yelled after him, watching as he ran towards the elevator. “Probably best you stay home from now on.”

You pulled on his arm, tugging him back into the apartment before people heard him shouting and came out to investigate. The door slammed shut and you turned to face him as he walked back to the kitchen, anger filling you up like a balloon ready to burst.

“What is wrong with you?! That is not how you handle things; you don’t just attack people!” You shouted and he paused as he pulled the fridge open, eyes meeting yours.

“He attacked you.” He said simply, eyes filled with hatred for the brief few seconds he looked at you. Your throat went dry. He looked away, pulling out a left-over container of rice before sitting down at the seat you had been in a half an hour before. A few minutes later, he was shoveling it into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, as if nothing had happened. It was true. Miko did something bad and he should be punished for it. Bobby fixed the problem, did more than you were willing to. So why were you upset?

You walked to your spot on the floor and sat down, staring at the wall across from you, heart racing for a thousand reasons. Bobby didn’t finish for a long time, eating everything and then cleaning the dishes, but he eventually walked over, squatting down to eye level with you. He saw the tears in your eyes, reaching his hand out to wipe one away as it rolled down your cheek, the lingering feeling of his fingers lasting longer than Miko’s did.

“You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here.” He said without asking, pulling the blanket away and waiting for you to move. You stood up and climbed onto the mattress, pulling the comforter up over your shoulders. You faced away from him, forced your eyes shut while you tried to keep every thought of him out, tried not to see the concern in his eyes replay like your favorite movie on the back of your eyelids. You prayed your heart would stop racing every time you thought of him and hoped that maybe it wasn’t all true. That maybe he wasn’t a bad person. The memory of Miko’s face brought you back to the reality you wished you could deny.

You woke up sometime in the middle of the night, nightmares forcing you awake. Your body was facing back towards the floor, the opposite of how you fell asleep, arm hanging off the edge of the bed. You didn’t notice it right away, but your hand was clasped inside of Bobby’s, his eyes remaining closed while gentle snores flowed from him. Your breath caught in your throat, the feel of his calloused fingers threaded through yours taking over all of your senses, making your heart speed up like you could die if you touched him for too long. You tried to pull away, but he gripped you tighter, not letting go.

“The only time you stopped crying was when I grabbed your hand. Go back to sleep.” He mumbled; eyes still closed. The sound of his voice gave you chills, and your cheeks felt too hot to bear, but your eyes closed anyways. You bit your lip to keep from panicking, pretended everything was okay, counted to one hundred over and over again until you could finally breathe normal.

In the morning, you had to pry your fingers free from his so you could go to the bathroom and get ready for work. When you came out, he was still asleep, sun shining on his face. His hair was longer, hanging in his eyes, the swelling of his left eye completely gone, and the bruising changed to a yellow/brown color. His lips were parted slightly, soft huffs of air coming out with each exhale, making you smile. You stared at him for as long as you could before gathering your things and walking out the door.

The days go on just like that. Bobby stayed in your apartment mostly, talked on the phone a lot during the day, watched you get ready for work. After the incident with Miko, he put his number in your phone and made you call every night when you were finished, so he could walk you out. Two and a half weeks passed by without you ever questioning his presence and you were too scared to ask him when he would be leaving (never really wanting him to). Instead you just enjoyed his presence. Appreciated that he was there.

“I think Yuki really does like me more than you.” He said one day, out of the blue while you washed the dishes.

“Hey!” You whined, turning back to face him. He was laying on your bed, Yuki curled up in her favorite place on top of him, him petting her softly while he smiled at her. Your heart constricted and you had to tear yourself away from the sight, scared you might fall for him over something that small. It would be stupid to fall anyways, this man you barely knew enrapturing your heart like it only ever belonged to him.

You found yourself scrubbing the same dish for five minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head like a storm cloud when you felt him behind you. His arm snaked around yours, grabbing the dish you were cleaning and pulling it out.

“I think it’s clean.” He said softly, setting the dish on your drying rack, laughing to himself while peeking around to see you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him, remembering the day you found him in the woods, leading him to your apartment, cleaning the blood off of his face. He was absolutely the most handsome man you had ever seen. His eyes were brilliant, and they shined when he smiled, when he laughed, when he was yelling at someone on the phone. Now they were shining at you and you couldn’t help but lean up and press your lips to his. It was almost involuntary, like your body would have just dissipated to nothing if you didn’t do it. You pulled your other hand out of the water and rested it on his neck, fell for him like you had never fallen for anything before.

When he rested his hand on your shoulder, you expected him to push you away. He turned your body to fully face him, pressing your back against the counter, hands on your cheeks while his lips pressed against yours more urgently. You gripped the counter behind you, not sure why you could feel tears in your eyes when you were anything but sad. His hands left your cheeks to grab your arms, wrapping them around his waist before he pulled them back up to your neck. He touched you like you would break, but his lips; oh, his lips… They melted into yours like wax, tongues brushing against each other, kissing you like he could never get enough. You gripped his shirt like he would disappear if you didn’t hold him there, felt like it would all be a big dream that faded away the second you opened your eyes.

He walked you to the bed, sat down and pulled you into his lap, brushed the hair out of your face with the rough pads of his fingers that you loved so much, and you tried to remember that life could go on without him. Tried to remember that someday he would go, and you’d be alone again, and it would be okay (wouldn’t it?). Found it hard to convince yourself of that the more you fell for the stability he gave you, the stability you didn’t realize you had craved your entire life. You woke up every day to his soft snoring, got out of the shower and knew he would still be there after you got dressed, brought home dinner every night, always making sure there was enough for two. It was a sense of security that settled so deep in your bones that you didn’t realize how far gone you were. The way his eyes watched you put on your makeup, the way he held your hand while you slept because it was the only way you could dream beautiful things. The only way you could dream at all.

“Please don’t leave.” You mumbled absentmindedly as he moved to kiss you again, halting at your words. Your heart always spoke before your mind could think to stop you. His eyes went hard, looking up at you like you broke a rule, like you opened a door you shouldn’t have, but he didn’t move. Didn’t push you away.

“I don’t care what happens,” you continued, breathing uneven and urgent, tears filling your eyes again. “I don’t care if you’re a bad person, I just need you.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before letting out a shaky breath, head turning away. A chuckle passed his lips soon after and he shook his head a little, pulling his hands up to wrap around your elbows.

Your hands found their way to his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. Forcing him to see the tears that ran down your cheeks, tears he had a part in.

“I’m not asking you to love me. Just, please…” You let out a shaky breath of your own, sadness ripping through you like a tornado, forehead crinkling up as your tears fell harder. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

You watched him soften at your words, saw for the briefest moment the darkness he kept hidden from everyone, prayed that someday you’d get to help him heal.

‘So stupid…” He mumbled before pressing his lips back to yours, and you didn’t hold back. You gave him every piece of you. You fell into his flames and only wished you could burn, because as long as it was him, you would learn to love the scars he would leave. You would love everything for him.

--

It was hard at first, loving Bobby. He didn’t make it easy, never let you know how he was feeling. Only ever wanted to laugh with you, never wanted to show you a weaker side. When he had to leave after a full three weeks had passed, time to return home to work, he wasn’t sentimental about it. Didn’t care to acknowledge your feelings much at all.

“I’ll pick you up after work, so don’t leave until I get there.” He said sternly, ignoring the tears in your eyes. You sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, fear gripping you at the thought that he wouldn’t be there hold your hand that night so you could dream. He gathered the small things he had delivered to the house, throwing them all in a duffle bag haphazardly. The silence weighed on you like cement, pouring over your limbs with such ferocity that you never wanted to get up again.

He squatted down in front of you after a while and leaned his arms on your knees, looking up at you with such sweet eyes that you wanted to hit him.

“You cry too much.” He said softly, resting his chin down onto his wrists, making his lips pout up at you.

“Stop making me cry all of the time then.” You complained, staring back at him. He smiled and leaned up, pressing his lips to yours. It was the sweetest thing, soft and gentle, pushing all of the sorrows you held to the back of your mind, every sadness cured by his lips and those puppy dog eyes he stared up at you with when he pulled away. He pressed another chaste kiss to your lips when he stood up and you smiled a little, enough to bring him some comfort as he walked towards the door.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said, and just the thought of it made your heart race.

You prayed through your entire shift, prayed he wouldn’t lie, prayed he would really be there when you walked out that night. The way your heart leapt and fell at every car that passed while you stood outside made you nauseous, a sick you thought would only be cured by the sight of his smile. You waited for twenty minutes before turning to storm away, tired of standing in the cold, anger clouding your vision as you thought of all of the things you would say when you saw him next. It was just as you were pulling your phone out of your pocket that you noticed him a few feet away, leaning against the building you just came out of. He looked different, no longer sporting the t-shirt and sweats you always got to see, instead sporting a navy-blue suit, white t-shirt underneath, silver chain hanging the same place it always did. His hair was gelled back, a shade of class washing over him that you never knew was possible.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted, storming up to him and punching his shoulder.

“I was waiting for you! You seemed so busy watching traffic that I thought you might be waiting for someone else.” He said laughing, hands held up in defense. You hit him again, one more time for good measure before storming away, walking towards your building. He ran up behind you, lifting you up into the air and your laughter fell involuntarily from your lips as he spun you around and around. When your feet hit the sidewalk, you grabbed his arm, shaking the dizziness out of your eyes. He led you the rest of the way home and asked about your day, let you talk forever about the stupid things you had to deal with as if you were his favorite podcast to tune into, diligently listening and never interrupting.

When the tables turned and you asked about his day, he was short, never sharing more than a simple ‘it was okay, nothing special’. You hated how closed off he could be. Hated that he wouldn’t talk to you about everything the way you would talk with him.

“Do you ever get scared?” You asked and he looked at you.

“Scared of what?” He retorted and you tilted your head, curiosity taking over your thoughts.

“Scared of your life. The things you do. Aren’t you ever scared?” The words seemed to hit him in the same way they did when you had said you were worried about him weeks before. He shut down, fake smile filling up his cheeks, eyes empty as he chuckled lightly.

“No, I’m not scared.”

It broke your heart.

He walked you into your building, rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, a different person than the one who lifted you into the sky just a while before.

“Can you stay a while?” You asked, pressing in the code to your door and pushing it open. He didn’t enter behind you and you assumed that was his answer as you turned back.

“I can’t. I have some work I need to get home and finish.” He said with no regret in his eyes, so unemotional that your heart sunk at the thought of having to say goodbye.

Yuki was at his feet seconds later, pressed against his legs like he was her human magnet. You rolled your eyes as he lifted her into his arms, pressing kisses to her face and petting her.

“I’ll take her outside, is that okay?” he asked, and you nodded, jealousy ringing through your bones as you turned back to walk inside, an air of disappointment hanging around you. He grabbed your hand as it fell from the door and pulled you into his chest, Yuki now waiting beside his feet. His free hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his, the taste of his tongue sweet like wine. It took you a little longer than him to react, but eventually, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you could, never really feeling like you could get enough.

When he pulled away, you whined, a smile forming on his cheeks instantly at the sound.

“Stop crying all of the time.” He said, pressing a kiss to your nose before reaching down for Yuki and walking away. You let the door shut behind him, sighing as you walked to your dresser and grabbed random clothes to sleep in.

You waited for him to come back before getting in the shower, scared he would let Yuki in and leave without a word. Fifteen minutes passed before your phone was buzzing beside you.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, curious about why he was calling.

“Every time I set her down, she cries for me to pick her up. I don’t think she has to go to the bathroom. Maybe she’s sick?” he said, and you sighed, defeat settling in your chest.

“She wants to go home with you. Just take her.” You huffed out, annoyance apparent in your tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked and you groaned, standing up from the bed.

“Yes, she always liked you the most, I’m sure she’d just cry all night anyways if you weren’t here.” You said and walked into the bathroom, ready for the lonely night ahead without either of them.

He sighed on the other end. “Will you be okay?” He asked and you turned on the shower, letting it warm up.

“It’s nothing I’m not already used to.” You huffed out before hanging up. It was childish honestly, no real reason to be angry. You weren’t actually mad at all; you had just been so spoiled with his company that the thought of being alone upset you. You finished your shower after some time, drying yourself off before getting dressed and leaving the bathroom.

The first thing that surprised you was Yuki, walking in front of you, brushing her tail against your leg. The second was the sight of Bobby asleep in your bed, suit jacket hanging off of your kitchen chair, enough room beside him for you. You smiled, ringing your hair out before walking closer, climbing under the covers beside him. He immediately rolled over, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you into his chest.

“This is the last night. I mean it.” He mumbled and you smiled into him, the smell of his cologne intoxicating you in a way that alcohol never had, a drug you never wanted to get tired of. You dreamt of a field full of roses that night, all planted by Bobby just for you; his smile and laugh filling your ears like the greatest song you had ever heard. You played it on repeat until the sun came up.

--

Bobby was weak for you in so many ways, never told you ‘no’, never held you back from doing the things you wanted.

After a month and some odd weeks, you found yourself staying at his house more nights than he agreed to. He was desperate to keep you away from all of his darkness, told you before that he didn’t want you involved in his personal business, but you wanted every piece of him; craved it more than anything. He needed to be home so often that it was only logical you stayed with him, but in your heart, you knew it was more than that. You wanted to know him, to know the sides of him he never showed.

At first, you didn’t see it. He was always making you laugh, kissing your tears away when you were sad, holding you until you fell asleep every night.

He took you to small parties first, events where there would only be people that he trusted, people he knew wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but eventually he took you other places. Places that were dangerous, where Donghyuk and Junhoe, the guards he trusted the most, had to follow close behind, ready for anything that might happen. You loved the thrill you got being the girl Bobby chose, loved the way people stared and wondered who you were. Loved that you finally felt like someone people wanted to be, wanted to have. It was exhilarating, dressing in the beautiful gowns that Bobby bought you, expensive diamonds dripping down your neck, hanging from your ears. It was a life you never knew you could love, but you loved it even more than you had expected because Bobby was there.

Every turn you took, you got to see his shining eyes that made your heart swell up three sizes, made your chest ache in a way that you would never feel for anyone but him. He was the cold winter chill you craved at night, stealing your breath and breathing life into you at the same time.

When things got dangerous, Bobby grew quiet. Distant. He made you stay in the house, wouldn’t let you go to work.

“I can’t stay here forever Bobby; Sabrina has texted me for the past three nights that she needs me there. I have to go.” You complained while he paced the room, stress apparent in his tense shoulders and the furl in his eyebrows, jaw clenching over and over again. He hated this argument. Hated that you pushed so far into his personal space, but now you wanted freedom. Hated that you had become too important to let out of his sight, as if he could just sit at home and wait for you, thinking about all of the people who wanted you hurt because of him.

“This is why I tried to keep you away.” He mumbled, running his hands up and down his face. He stopped pacing and turned to you; gaze firmly fixed on the floor. “I told you that I needed to keep you away, but you just kept pushing, kept taking it further and further.”

You climbed off of the bed and walked up to him, taking his face in your hands. You tilted his head up some so that his eyes met yours and gave him a small smile.

“You cry too much.” You joked and he groaned, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms around him in a hug. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, the gesture making your heart feel like it would burst. You combed your hand through the hair on the back of his neck and smiled against him.

“Can’t you just stay here forever? Stop trying to leave.” He mumbled sweetly into your neck, the smile on your cheeks growing five times larger. You pulled away and fell in love with the worry on his face, fell in love with the neediness in his voice.

“When did you get so cute?” You asked and he rolled his eyes, a small sigh falling from his lips. You leaned up on your tippy toes and kissed him once before pulling away, loving the way he peered down at you like you won the battle even though you barely had to fight. You kissed him one more time before walking across the room and grabbing your bag.

“I’ll text you as soon as I get there and you can pick me up whenever I’m finished at 2, okay?”

You turned back and he shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding a few times in agreement. You smiled, waving at him before walking out.

Junhoe stood at the front door, but you told him you would get a taxi, certain that if you let him drive, Bobby would make him stay and keep an eye on you. You didn’t need them to stress so much, didn’t need the stress yourself. So, you went to work alone.

While Sabrina was the closest thing you had to family, you didn’t see her very often. She hardly came to the bar unless there was a special reason, so when you saw her that night, arm attached to a man, you knew something was up.

“Y/n! I want you to meet my boyfriend!” She shouted and you smiled, the sound of her voice something you weren’t sure if you missed, but still giving you a sense of comfort that you enjoyed. Sabrina was beautiful for her age, tall with tanned skin, hair dark and long, signature bright red lipstick pasted on her lips as it always was. You had wondered when you first met her why she wasn’t married, but never pried. She complained often about how no man was good enough for her, no man was good enough for life in general, but it was apparent that her mind had changed.

The man stood beside her was handsome, tall and tan mirroring her perfectly, hair black and gelled back exposing the defining features of his face. His black suit was tailored perfectly, clinging to his broad shoulders in all of the right ways, white button up clasped all of the way to his neck.

You smiled at him politely and nodded your head, sticking your hand out to shake. He took it in his at the same time she said his name.

“This is Seunghyun!” The happiness in her voice was drowned out by the alarms going off in your head. You remembered the name, falling from Bobby’s bloody lips months ago in the woods; remembered him mentioning it several times after, always in conversations filled with malice and anger. Your blood ran cold as your eyes met his and it was in the way he squeezed your hand as you tried to pull away that told you he knew; he knew who you were. Your knees shook at the way evil danced in his eyes and it took everything in you to nod at him again, a fake smile pulling your cheeks up.

Sabrina remained oblivious to the tension, not caring that the atmosphere had changed the second she mentioned his name.

“Isn’t he so handsome, y/n?! Make us some drinks, we’re celebrating!” She squealed, and you were finally able to pull your hand away, immediately turning to grab some glasses. Your heart was racing, filled with fear and anxiety. You poured out the drinks she requested while she went on and on about how they wanted to get married as soon as possible, wanted to have kids. It was hard to ignore the feeling of Seunghyun’s eyes on the back of your neck, hair raising at the thought that he was planning something to hurt Bobby. Why else would he be there?

You turned and set the drinks in front of them before excusing yourself, cell phone in hand. You were just about to press dial on Bobby’s number, hand resting on the restroom door when a hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you back around. Seunghyun’s eyes looked even darker in the dim light of the hallway as he pulled your phone from your hand. He smiled a little at the sight of Bobby’s name before locking it the screen and reaching behind you, stuffing it in the back pocket of your jeans.

“We obviously have business to take care of. Let’s talk somewhere more private.” He said, pulling you out the back exit. Winter was coming to an end, air warm enough to go without a jacket, but goosebumps ran up and down your arms despite that. His grip never left your wrist, shoving you up against the brick wall of the bar.

“This can go one of two ways. You can tell me Bobby’s plans or things…” He ran a finger down your cheek, standing much too close for your comfort. “Can get ugly.”

You took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves, fear gripping you like a cobra.

“I- I don’t know anything. He never talks about that stuff in front of me.” It came out too shaky, like you were lying. His grip on your wrist tightened and you yelped, trying to twist away from him, but he slammed you back against the cement even harder, free hand snaking into your hair and tightening. He pushed you to the ground, hair pulling so you would look up at him while tears fell down your face.

“You don’t know anything?” He retorted, and you shook your head, begging for him to let you go.

“I swear, I don’t know anything, I don’t! Please let me go, I promise I don’t know anything!”

He hummed in reply, looking around as if he was thinking of what to do. It was a few minutes later when his grip loosened, letting you collapse on your hands and knees. You quickly scrambled away from him, back pressing against the wall as you stood up. He dusted his hands off on his pants and smoothed out his hair.

“You’re the closest person to him, yet you don’t know anything?” He added with a chuckle and you didn’t speak. “Must not be that close.”

The last part was a mumble and his eyes met yours again. “Still, I’m keeping you close. Don’t let me find out you’re lying to me. I would hate to break Sabrina’s heart, she’s pretty fond of you.”

He straightened out his suit before walking back inside. You sank to the ground, burying your face in your hands. The sound of his voice echoed around in your mind and it terrified you, all of your senses in overdrive. You could hear Bobby’s voice, telling you not to leave, trying to push you away, could see his face when Miko hit you, the image replaying over and over again, his eyes empty but voice filled with insane anger. He tried to make you stay home, begged you to stay. He would think it was his fault and you wanted to vomit at the thought, overwhelming concern filling you up quicker than before, and there was another problem. Seunghyun was dating Sabrina. You weren’t sure if he had any real feelings for her, if he had only used her to get close to you, but you were sure of her feelings for him.

The thoughts flew through your mind too fast, you could breathe, couldn’t see a way out, felt like the world was closing in around you until you opened your eyes and found that it wasn’t. You took a few deep breaths, pulling yourself off of the ground and wiping the tears from your face. After walking back inside, you went straight back to work, letting Sabrina ramble on and on about her new-found love, ignored the glares from Seunghyun. Tried your best to let the numbness wash over you for the night.

Sabrina’s arms wrapped around you before you left, telling her you had to leave early to feed Yuki.

“Please come around more. I know I don’t see you a lot, but I love you and I need you. More than anyone.” Alcohol fueled her words, but tears still filled your eyes at the sentiment. “Not just because I need employees, but because… you’re like a little sister to me.”

You let her hug you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “I’ll call you. I promise.” You said softly, quickly walking out before she could see your tears.

You took a taxi home, leaving earlier than Bobby would have expected, planning on showing up before he left to avoid him find out about Seunghyun. You stood outside of the house for a while, calming your nerves and trying your best to appear normal. It was just as you were about to push the door open that Bobby walked out.

“Oh,” surprise written on his face when he saw you standing there.  “You told me to pick you up, what happened?”

You stared at him blankly and had the hardest time keeping it together. You wanted to melt into his arms, let him kiss away your tears, wanted him to hold you while you told him everything. Instead you smiled, the fake expression coming to you more naturally than expected.

“I got off early so I wanted to surprise you.” You lied, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your head was buzzing with anxiousness, resting your chin on his chest while he tilted his head, looking down at you quizzically. You worried if he could read your thoughts, if he could see the fear hidden behind your smile, but after a few seconds he wrapped his arms around your neck and pressed his lips to yours. The smile that raised on his cheeks was enough to settle some of your anxiety and you held him tighter.

“Let’s go get food.” He said and you were grateful. Grateful that you were able to keep this secret, grateful that you could go to bed later that night with Bobby smiling and joking, holding you in his arms with the same warmth and tenderness that always brought tears to your eyes. He kissed all of the worries you couldn’t tell him about away and your heart loved him more then than you ever expected it could. You never wanted to see sadness or anger in him, not over you. So, you held it in, kept your fear to yourself, prayed every night that you could avoid it, prayed that Bobby would never stop smiling at you.

--

Seunghyun kept his distance at first, never put his hands on you or pushed you for information. He seemed to be convinced that Bobby didn’t really care about you, and while the thought stung, you knew it wasn’t true, so you ignored it. Sabrina was by his side every night, and since the first meeting you had with him, you refused to leave from behind the bar while he was there. Bobby never found out. You kept him at a distance from your work, finding any excuse you could to keep him from coming to pick you up. He hated it initially, but eventually he seemed to accept that you would be fine taking a taxi home. Life seemed fairly normal for a while, like things would actually be okay.

It was a month later when you were getting ready to leave work that everything came crashing down. All customers had gone for the night as you stacked the last pair of chairs on a table, excited to go home, eat dinner and watch a movie with Bobby. It had been a long night, a night that you weren’t prepared to deal with Seunghyun walking through the front door, obvious distress written on his face. There was another man with him, blood running down his nose while Seunghyun sported a black eye and bloody lip. The anger that seethed off of the two of them had you standing up straight, backing away immediately.

“You knew, didn’t you?” He accused roughly, and the air around you froze at the sight of his dark eyes. You shook your head instinctively, but he didn’t listen, lunging at you and wrapping his hands around your neck. You fell to the ground, gasping as he squeezed tighter and tighter, tears choking you in the same way Seunghyun was. You were clawing at him, kicking your legs, not connecting with anything as desperation poured in your stomach. “You fucking knew!” He screamed.

You shook your head, gasping for air, eyes blurring when you couldn’t bring anything in. The pressure his fingers had around your throat, squeezing without hesitance, eyes raging, it made your body shake with fear.

“I didn’t-“ You tried to force the words out as black spots clouded your vision. He pulled his hands away as everything went dark and you took in a deep breath, rolling on your side as you clutched your chest, coughing spasmodically.

“He took out half of my men. Half of my fucking men! I’ll fucking kill him!”

He wasn’t screaming at you, turned around and throwing chairs, flipping tables. You tried to pull yourself off of the ground, hands shaking with adrenalin as he turned back towards you. When his eyes met yours, you turned to run towards the exit, feet not quick enough for his reaction. His hands gripped your hair, throwing you back to the ground. You screamed and his leg swung back, kicking you in the ribs once before rearing back and kicking you again and again. The oxygen that filled your lungs seconds before was gone, and you swore you felt something crack, no longer counting the blows you felt in your ribs. Your eyes went blurry for a few seconds, pain shooting through you like lightning.

“I swear I didn’t know; I swear!” You gasped out, hands gripping your left side as he stepped back.

He stared down at you like a lion hunting its prey. You had never felt so vulnerable, like he could kill you any second, the mania in his eyes terrifying you in a way nothing ever had. It was funny how the only thing that flashed through you mind was two nights before when Yuki threw a hairball up on Bobby’s pillow. He was so angry, yelling and cleaning it at the same time, screaming about how he was supposed to be her favorite. Ten minutes later, they were curled up in bed together, sleeping. Love pumped through your veins like the mechanisms of your heart worked only for him.

Seunghyun chuckled, squatting down in front of you. You flinched back as his hand reached out to grab your chin, turning your head up towards him. He was quiet for a long time, studying your expression.

“He really doesn’t tell you anything?”

You shook your head ‘no’ with tears in your eyes, too scared to speak, scared he would hurt you again; the pain you felt already too much to bear. The silence extended on for eons in your mind before he finally nodded and stood up.

“I guess we’ll see how much he cares when you show up like that.” He lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale of it before walking out with his partner, not saying another word.

It took you close to an hour to pull yourself off of the floor, ribs cramping like torture every time you took too deep of a breath. You locked the doors to the bar and walked to the bathroom, every step a challenge. Your face was tear soaked but otherwise free from marks, however deep red/purple bruises trailed along your neck, the tactile memory of Seunghyun’s hands causing your stomach to ache. You splashed cool water on your face, wiping away the ruined mascara that dripped down your cheeks in trails, before you lifted up your shirt. You could feel the ache inside, knowing the bruise would be bad, already appearing over your entire ribcage. Your lips trembled at the site, tears forming as another sharp pain took your breath away, causing you to lean over the sink for some stability.

Another thirty minutes had passed before you pulled out your phone and texted Bobby that you would be home late, but he responded just as quickly.

From; Bobby [02:48am]

Too late, I just pulled up

Your heart sped up, not bothering with a reply as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket. You stood up straight and practiced taking some deep breaths, fighting off every wave of pain and nausea that came in response. It took some time, but eventually you thought you could pull it off, thought you could trick both yourself and Bobby that everything would be okay. You grabbed your jacket from the front and pulled it over your arms, zipping it up all of the way so it covered your neck.

When the fresh spring air greeted you as you walked outside, you were met with the sight of Bobby leaned against his car on the street. He smiled as soon as he saw you, putting your heart at ease for the first and probably last time that night. Walking was simple, painful, but easier than breathing.

“What took you so long?!” He asked, happier than usual. You stopped in front of him and waited for him to move from the passenger door so you could get in, a smile forming on your lips.

“I don’t feel very good.” You lied, hoping the way you felt now could pass as an illness to his eyes. Concern flashed over his features as he opened your door and you slid past him, getting in as nonchalantly as you could. He slid into the driver’s seat moments later and you ignored the looks of worry he threw at you while he questioned what was wrong.

“I just have a stomachache, don’t worry.” You mumbled out, closing your eyes. That kept him quiet, hoping to let you rest some on the ride home. Every bump and turn brought tears to you, bile burning in the back of your throat. It felt like the longest ride home you had ever taken.

When he pulled up to the house, you prepared yourself for the pain of getting out, Bobby rushing to your side to help. He took your hand and pulled you up, which was the task you were most worried for. It wasn’t as bad as you expected with him taking most of your weight to help you up. You walked inside fairly normal after, steps too slow, drawing Bobby’s attention even more. Making it to the bedroom felt like the biggest victory, throwing your bag on the ground just inside the door like you were carrying a fifty-pound weight.

“Should I make you something? Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head, just wanting to sit down. You walked to the bed and he helped you, pulling your shoes off and setting them on the floor.

The adrenalin had worn out of your system long before, exhaustion rattling in your bones after everything you had been through, mind too tired to stop him from helping. He was grabbing the zipper on your jacket before time finally caught up with you. You grabbed his hands as they started to pull it down, desperation bleeding out in your fingertips.

“Don’t!” you said wide eyed, fear clutching your chest, ribs spasming with the deep inhale you took in. You let go of one of his hands to clutch your side and his eyes were scanning you, gauging the situation.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He said, watching as the tears now fell down your cheeks, pain from crying only making the pain worse. “y/n, what happened?”

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes, ‘please let it go’.

His gaze hardened as he brushed your hands away, unzipping the jacket. The bruises had gotten worse over on hour, covering the sides of your neck in the pattern of a hand. You couldn’t look at Bobby’s face, couldn’t see anything through the tears that poured down your cheeks. When he stepped away from you, hands falling to his sides, you stood up, hand clutching your ribs. He hesitated before stepping closer, only to pull up your shirt, revealing the bruise splayed across your ribs. You quickly moved his hand away (not near quick enough), pulling your shirt back down.

He looked sick, the palest you had ever seen him, tears filling his eyes as you grabbed his face.

“Bobby, it’s fine, really. I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He shoved your hands away and you shook as sobs broke through, fear masking the pain you felt moments before.

“Who did that?” He asked, too quiet, eyes filled with disgust and betrayal. You shook your head, not sure how to speak, how to tell him the secrets you kept. “Who the fuck did it, y/n?! Tell me!”

He was screaming and you covered your face with your hands, wishing you could take it all back. You told him everything. Told him about the first night Seunghyun came into the bar with Sabrina, how he threatened you, how you didn’t want to worry him.

“He doesn’t know, Bobby, he doesn’t think we’re that close. He won’t hurt me again, it’s okay.” You cried out and he wouldn’t make eye contact. Wouldn’t look at you at all. He let you finish talking before nodding his head, those same emotionless eyes you saw the night Miko hit you present.

He brushed past you to leave and you tried to grab his arm, but he shook you off.

“Bobby, wait!” You cried after him as he walked down the stairs. You followed close behind, ignoring the pain in your lungs so you could keep up.

“Donghyuk!” He yelled, the person in question appearing in front of him within seconds. “Get her things and take her home.”

He said it so simply that you didn’t comprehend it at first, but once the words mulled over in your mind, you were frantic.

“Bobby, stop!” You yelled, hand gripping his arm. He whipped towards you, pulling out of your grasp, all of his anger flurrying behind the eyes that were now directed at you.

“Don’t ever come back here, do you hear me?” He seethed and you shook your head, ready to fall to the floor, beg him to let you stay. “I told you it wasn’t safe, told you that you needed to stay out of it, but you didn’t listen. And you lied to me.”

You tried to grab for him again, but he stepped away, turning back to Donghyuk once more. “Take her home now.”

He shoved past you, ripping your hands off of him when you grabbed his shirt, ignoring the way you stumbled back and hit the counter. He didn’t look back when you screamed his name, didn’t look back as you tried to pull yourself from the hold Donghyuk took on your arm. He didn’t look back at all. Everything felt broken, dark and miserable, the uncomfortable feeling of loneliness seeping through your skin, clinging to your bones as you cried in the car after Donghyuk forced you in and buckled your seatbelt. He threw a bag of things he found throughout the house that were yours in the trunk and set Yuki on your lap.

When you made it to your apartment building, he had to practically carry you up, pain soaking through your ribs and making it even harder to breathe after all of the useless effort you put into screaming Bobby’s name, begging him to let you stay.

“You should go to the hospital tomorrow. Take two of these pills before you sleep and again in the morning.”

Donghyuk didn’t walk inside of the apartment, instead set your belongings just inside the door before thrusting a plastic bag filled with pills into your hands without so much as a goodbye before leaving. It was cold inside, colder now that it was just you and Yuki, the memory of Bobby sleeping on your mattress bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You poured a glass of water and took two pills from the bag, swallowing without a worry of what they were, hoping they would stop the world from spinning. You walked to the bed and sat down, staring into the darkness, wondering how you got there. How you could lie to Bobby for months and expect him to forgive you.

The sound of Yuki meowing beside the door, waiting as if he would walk in any second, made you bury your face in your hands, head pounding.

“He’s not coming Yuki.” You said softly, but she wouldn’t stop, her meowing constant, the silence that followed each reminding you of how alone you truly were, wishing you could drown in the sobs that were now choking you.

“Yuki please, please stop, he isn’t coming back.” You cried, hands covering your ears. “He isn’t coming back!”

You were shaking, wishing it would all end, begging her to stop crying for someone who was gone, someone who didn’t want her anymore. “Please, please stop!” Chest aching as your heart hammered wildly at the thought of a future without Bobby’s smiles, without his eyes, without his kisses. Thought about how you would rather die than never feel his love again.

It was hours later when you were finally able to sleep, no dreams of gentle kisses or shining eyes coming to you, no nightmares of the dark because you were already living in your own hell; you didn’t need any other realities to plague you that night.

--

Living without Bobby felt wrong, like there was no reason to wake up if he wasn’t beside you. You ignored Donghyuk’s advice of going to the hospital, took the pills that dulled the pain like they were candy instead. There were enough to get you through three days. You only got of bed to go to the bathroom, refused to shower, only ate when you had nothing left to throw up.

Sabrina called on the third day. You ignored it at first, letting it ring over and over again until the buzzing gave you a migraine. You answered after her seventh try.

“I need you to come to work tonight.” She said immediately, no real urgency in her tone.

“I can’t Sabrina, I’m sorry.” You replied, voice hoarse and dry.

She was silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “I hate to pull this card, but you owe me, big time and you know that, so I need you to come, whatever is happening I can help you with. Be here in an hour.”

She hung up without a reply and you stared at the ceiling, wishing the world would swallow you up. Your limbs felt like loaded down bricks as you pulled yourself from the bed, immediately taking Yuki outside. The day after you came home and cried yourself to sleep, you woke up with her on your chest and immediately broke down in tears again. You couldn’t imagine why she always came back even now that Bobby was gone, but she did, let you pull her into your arms and carry her upstairs.

Getting a shower made you feel surprisingly nice, despite the aches and pains that took over your torso with the movement and pressure. You could feel yourself healing, at least physically, and that gave you some form of relief. It was well over an hour later that you made it to the bar, not worried about being late when it was an accomplishment that you got out of bed at all. You found yourself deeply confused when you saw all of the curtains were drawn, no lights on inside, but you walked in anyways pulling out your phone’s flashlight and turning on the lights as the door shut behind you.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, your stomach flipped.

Bobby sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room, nose bleeding, dark hair a mess. Duct tape covered his mouth, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You ran over, heart racing, confusion and fear fueling your actions.

“What happened?!” You shouted in a whisper as you started to pull the tape from his lips, tears filling your eyes, only to be answered with a hand on the back of your neck that paralyzed you with fear.

It was terrifying, how you never heard Seunghyun in the room, how you he moved close enough to put a hand on you without even the mildest realization that he was there.

“Yes, y/n, what did happen?” He mumbled in your ear. Bobby’s face was masked with fury and frustration as he stared up at you, arms and legs flexing as he struggled to free himself.

“You see, you had me under the impression that maybe you were a showpiece, a stand in at parties that had no real emotional connection with this guy, that’s how you made it seem the other night, but what confuses me is how I end up being hunted down after our little run in. After I was nice enough to let you leave in one piece.” His laugh was sinister and sent chills down your spine as the grip on the back of your neck tightened, causing you to flinch. You noticed Sabrina standing beside the bar, tears in her eyes, apology written on her face as well as a bloody lip.

“Tell me, y/n, why have I been chased all over the city for the last 72 hours if Bobby doesn’t care about you?”

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “I don’t know. I- I told you that it wasn’t that serious Seunghyun!” His grip released from your neck and you turned to face him but were met with the back of his hand across your cheek. You stumbled back and Bobby groaned from the chair, eyes raging.

“You’re lying.” He laughed out, cracking his knuckles while you moved yourself behind a table, tears taking your breath away as you tried to find a way out of this. “I’m so tired of people lying to me.” He pulled a knife out from waistband of his pants, simultaneously sucking the air out of the room.

It was a split second, the glance you shared across the room with Sabrina. She nodded once and it was like you shared the same thoughts. You turned and ran as fast as you could to the back exit, heart beating wildly, the sound of Seunghyun’s feet racing closer and closer fueling the adrenalin that pushed you forward.

You had just made it into the back alleyway when his hand closed around your shoulder, shoving you towards the ground. You turned back, trying to crawl away but he lifted you by your shirt.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed out; knife pressed to your neck. You choked out a sob and he smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Such a shame you had to cause all of this trouble. You have the prettiest face.” He pressed his lips to yours and you reeled away, trying to tilt your head back as far as you could. When he pulled back, he laughed, no humor behind it. “Such a lousy kisser. Oh well, I won’t be dealing with you anymore anyways.”

He dragged the knife down your cheek, applying enough pressure to leave the sting of open skin along it, blood mixing with the tears that fell. He changed his grip on the knife and held it up in the air, a scream falling from your lips with clenched eyes, at the same time the sound of a gun cocking halted his movements. You looked up to see the barrel of it pressed to the side of Seunghyun’s head, Bobby’s hands steady though the anger in his form was apparent. He looked down at Seunghyun with a look so intimidating that it made you shake.

“Stand up.” He said, never pulling the gun away from his face, stepping closer to grip his collar in his fist. Seunghyun smiled, never taking his eyes off of you as he stood up straight, hands pulling away from your neck.

The events that happened next went quicker than you could keep up with; he whipped around to knock the gun from Bobby’s at the same time Bobby pulled the knife from Seunghyun, both weapons flying away as they fell to the ground. Fists connecting with flesh, the sound making you sick as your stomach rolled over and over, images flying through your mind of all of the anger, all of the darkness that consumed your life. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only follow the hollow paces that your body took you through, standing up from the ground, grabbing the gun that laid before you, emptiness taking the seat of the fear that once controlled you. You remembered seeing Bobby shove Seunghyun away, but after that it was black, the sound of a gun ringing so close, ‘who was shooting?’, ‘who got shot?’, thoughts racing so fast that your head spun.

When you came to, your arm was extended, pistol firmly griped in your hand. You were shaking, tears falling from your eyes as muffled voices shouted around you, voices you couldn’t make out clearly. Bobby’s face appeared in front of yours and you sobbed.

“Y/n, drop the gun!” He yelled, but you couldn’t do anything. You felt paralyzed, fear regaining control as it took over everything inside of you. The sobs wouldn’t stop, tears endless, bones shaking wildly.

“Y/n, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m here.” Bobby took your face in his hands and you dropped the gun, the sight of his eyes pulling you back into reality. He pulled you into his chest and you gripped him like he was the only thing keeping you on earth, like you would die if he let you go. He held you in his arms, keeping your head pressed to his chest so you couldn’t see the body in front of you, protecting you from the world because he felt like he let you down. Felt like he failed.

Sabrina’s hand touched your back and you flinched before turning around. Her eyes were sincere, broken and numb like yours.

“I’ll tell them it was self-defense. Go.” She said and Bobby’s hand clasped around yours before you could say a word.

Bobby pulled you through the alley, guiding you the same way you did for him months before when you found him in the woods. He walked you into the building, entered the code to your apartment, all but carried you inside. He stood with you in the middle of your room, holding you tightly to his chest until you felt like you wouldn’t collapse with every breath you took. Ran his hands through your hair, whispered in your ear over and over that you were safe until you actually believed it.

“I killed someone.” You mumbled into his chest and he pulled away to see you. Your eyes burned with tears; throat thick with the words that fell from your mouth, not sure how to handle the reality of them.

His lips pressed against yours before he pulled you back into his chest.

“He would have killed you.” He whispered. Images of Seunghyun pressing a knife to your face, chapped lips pressed to yours, the smell of pine and beer making your head spin in a nauseating way.

You wrapped your arms around Bobby’s waist and found comfort in the way his warmth hadn’t changed. Found comfort in the sound of his heartbeat, the sound of your favorite coming home. Found comfort in the way he smelled like mint and laundry detergent, so different from Seunghyun.

“Can we go home?” You asked and felt the rumble of a laugh in his chest.

“How could you still want to be with me after today?” He questioned, pulling away from you some.

You looked at him, face serious. “I want to be with you forever.”

You expected him to push you away, shut you down and draw a line, but he didn’t. Instead he kissed you with all of the words he couldn’t say yet, kissed you with a thousand forever’s that answered every question you would ever ask.

Bobby was like fire, but sometimes you felt the same. Your secrets looked so tempting in the orange flames that rose from your shoulders, begging to be loved even though you knew the destruction you could bring. You never wanted anything but to love someone, even if it brought you ruin in the end. Meeting him was fate, flames joining and igniting in ways neither of you expected. He settled your soul more than you deserved and sometimes you ignited his, but it was okay because you had each other. Two lonely embers begging to be touched when the rest of the world broke them down, left them empty. It warmed you from the inside out, his kisses, his smiles, the magical way he brought the stars down to earth for you to see.

“I love you.” You said one night, a few months later, watching him put dishes away so mundanely that you couldn’t remember all of his dark parts. He looked back at you sitting on top of the kitchen counter with such a puzzled expression that you smiled. “I love you, Bobby.” You repeated.

His silence didn’t scare you, didn’t make you rethink your words or regret anything, having kept them inside even though you had felt them long before. Instead it settled all of your fears, wiped out all of your worries, the adoration that poured from his gaze filling you up with all of the love you ever needed. He walked closer and stood in between your legs, looking up at you. Your hands snaked around his neck as his rested down beside you. You ran your hands through his hair and kissed him lightly once before pulling away, resting your forehead on his. His eyes were shining in the way they always did, a glow that only you were luck enough to see.

“So stupid.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

A love you knew would never be perfect, something you would have to fight for until the day you died. He gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you closer, ankles crossing around his waist as he smiled into your lips. You fell into the fire of his soul, promised to yourself then that you would love every single piece of him even if it was the end of you. Whatever it took, you would burn for him.

--

A/N - Guys!!!! Bobby has taken over my heart and soul during my social distancing, and I have been up writing this for the last 6 nights until 5am, complete ruining my sleep schedule, but I just couldn’t sleep until I got my heart out for him dude!!! I hope you guys love this, it is absolutely the longest fic I have ever written, and I worked major hard on it, so plz give me some love/likes/critiques, anything is welcome!! I absolutely love hearing from you guys, so I hope you get some feels from this. Love you all!!! Hope you’re staying safe in this crazy world!

[buuttercup]

My laziness needs to end and this weekend needs to absolutely not happen. I do stupid things when I'm bored. I dangle my carrot in front of anyone I can as if that will make me feel okay. When I speak to anyone about B and I, I say I'm doing better than I am; I don't say we've fucked, obviously, because that's fucking laughable; I say I know I'll be able to find someone better for me, even though I don't think that's true; I say I'm never going back to him, even though I want to every day and every second. Everything I say is the antithesis of what is actually true. And that's fucking typical.

This new guy I've been talking to must find me so cringe, always posting vain photos and videos of myself now. I can't be bothered with what he thinks of me other than his opinions on my appearance but I want to see him again just to see. It's kind of funny how calculated and predictable it all is, my process of trying to heal after a breakup. I reduce myself every time. Feeding off attention from people that do not matter serves no one. Fucking randoms, promising things I can't keep, frivolous spending, painting myself to be more okay than I am. It’s all methodical.

I'm so fake on top of my shit and drowning in responsibilities I'm avoiding, but I don't really know what I'm waiting for? I wake up and run through a list of the things I need to take care of, but I'm still in the mindset I was when I was in 4th grade: convinced I will die at a young age, so why bother? I can't explain why I used to feel this way but I always felt I was meant to die at a young age, almost like I wanted that for myself. An escape to avoid the pain adulthood and wisdom bestows on you.

Myriad relationships with past friends and lovers have been reemerging as of late. I should be gracious of these people reaching out, as it comes from a place of love, but I actually hate it. These people from the past are all reminders of a version of myself that had less fortitude and self respect. That version of myself has admittedly become a victim of the harsh voice I speak to myself in. How stupid could you be? To be convinced that I found my one and only so early in life, right under my nose. I held onto him because I thought his lack of experiences would guarantee his loyalty and devotion. I thought, "I'll show him all that he hasn't seen or felt. I'll make him obsessed with me. I will secure my place in his heart." Naive and reluctant to the idea of him stepping outside of me. I am so tired of feeling not enough and making myself to be this diminutive version of myself that does not exist.

I have nothing to hide... except all the things I have to hide. Such as the shame and degradation I bring onto myself.

My life is sickeningly ironic at this point. Laughably, actually. My roommate has started up with a new boy. It's heart eyes, cuddling, and coffee made by 7am type of love right now. I'm not jealous. I don't want the guy. I'm not bitter about the fact that she keeps comparing her experiences with this guy with me and B. (I miss the ring 'me and B' had to it.) I'm really not. What I have been clinging onto however, are the parallels in her feelings and spoken words about this guy in comparison to my guy. Memories of excitement and lightheartedness can only be recalled as though it was another person living through them. I can't imagine myself boo'd up, laughing, secured... enamored with someone at all. Much less B. It's like, who was that that was living through all that sweetness? The irony lies in me knowing that that sweetness is what I'm holding onto. They are my favorite scenes from my favorite movie that I keep rewinding. Experiences unique to me n B. Although I'm broken, I can't dismiss the love and care B showed me. There’s a reason why I stuck by him for as long as I did, and there's a reason why I was more than happy to for the rest of my life. To make myself ashamed of the love I experienced with this person is wrong of me to do. I won't lie; it does hurt to see her so happy and nonetheless compare my happiness and optimism to what she feels. I promised to myself that I wouldn't project any of my own negativity and cynicism onto her.

This season isn't about he and I. It's about me.

Every moment I spend not working or working out feels like a waste. Even when I’m deep in my most depressing and lonely thoughts, I feel like I should be working out.

I think sick things. I think sick things to convince myself to be okay with what he did or.. the exact opposite.. to convince myself to banish this person from my heart forever. I asked him, when did you do this? Where? Did you show yourself? Either situation feeds into my insidious thoughts. If he showed himself, he shared his beauty and had that connection with someone else. They saw him and he saw them. I try to put myself in his shoes in that moment, I think, "well at east if he showed himself, I know human tendencies and that everyone looks at themselves during most of a video call, right?? At least he was probably looking at his own dick part of the time?? Yeah, at least he wasn't entirely focused on another body during that entire time.." The other option is that he wasn't on cam, and that is was only her. Still shit. To think of him being so primal and lusting for other parts, another body, anther person, kills me. I am too obsessed with the superficial connections he had with other people, but that is only because I feel THAT IS ALL I HAVE TO OFFER! I fooled myself into believing his lack of experience would minimize his hunger for other women, because I assumed he didn't know what else was out there. I assumed he would see me and have me and that that would be enough. We told each other about our past; I was his first serious girlfriend, I thought at the time, so I felt safe in the delusion that I wasn’t competing with memories of someone before me. I ransacked all parts of him in search of safety and fidelity. Nothing I thought about him was true.

And yet, I’m the I am still so hungry for him. He is more than his beautiful exterior; I crave his voice, his comfort, pragmatism, and his warmth. I have never given love an honest go like this. All my time spent with him was always sweet; I never felt blessed in my life, but I felt that way with him. I am convinced I won't ever be able to find what I found in him in anyone else. The narrative that there is only one person made for us is naive and impractical, but I really do feel that way with him. He checks my social media often; I know that. I am scared for the day it all ends because I know that when that day comes, I will not be in the same place. I will still be waiting. Perhaps it's my self cruelty speaking for my whole self, but I honestly believe I will always be waiting for him. I thought I'd be the same way with Leo. I was scary scary obsessed with him. Hastily convinced that this is the person for me; there are still times I think that... but all those fallacies are crowded out the second I think of B. Am I missing being loved or and I missing being loved by this person? How could I have aggrandized someone so small and immature? Who am I even talking about?? All of them.

Hearing of my mother's heartbreak is more painful than listening to my own. I don't think B has any idea of the ripples of pain he's caused around me. When I speak to my mom, I hear the hopeless romantic in her. She is waiting for this guy to prove himself in ways my father never could. She speaks about he and I as if she knows and wants for us to get back together again. She is waiting for a grand gesture, as was I. She is waiting to see if this guy will prove to be different, in ways my father could never be. I think she wants that just for my own sanity, so I don't go off to asume every man will only disappoint me. It's too late for that. Although I already believe that of men, part of me is still holding out for this person. Why was I robbed of my happiness and future experiences with this person??

I get so bitter when I start to think of everything I missed out on with B. Every relationship I see makes me think of what could’ve been. I'm like, that fucker didn't even get to see me dance, get to feel me grind on him while we were out, he didn't get to feel me eat his ass and suck him raw like I wanted, he didn't get to see me actually dolled up in that dress I saved for just him, he didn't get to feel me fully, we didn't get to vacation together, he didn't get to have the full me. Is that why this all happened? I get so angry at all that he didn't get to experience with me, as if it's my own fault that he's not trying as hard as I want him to be. A larger part of myself is convinced that he didn't get to experience these things with me because he didn't deserve to. I am so ready to put myself on display, to serve myself on a platter. The second I am made to be the fool, I carry the blame on my back as if it was my own faults that put us here. I feel this is the only way someone will see me and want me and only me. This will never be true; it's not like I want this to be my narrative, I really think it is though. If I'm not waiting for B to be at my door, I'm waiting for the day to be fully healed; neither seems reachable. Am I feeling this way because he is actually the one that is meant for me or because I've never been betrayed to this degree, and I'm yearning for an absolution? Way beyond the clouds is where I'll find my answer, by the time my head is light and empty enough to float high enough to find these answers, I think it will be too late. Every day, every second I have to fight myself to call him, to tell him to come over, to let him know about his secured spot in my heart. I can’t do that because I know it’s not true. It was not true with Leo, and although I know it’s unfair to compare B with L, both are in the same category; undeserving of me. A part of me wishes I could rush his growth so that it would alleviate some of the shame I might receive from getting back with him but I know that’s selfish. More of me wants the whole process to be rushed because I believe what we had was unique and beautiful and that it was the security that he and I deserved. The idea that he still wants me too makes it all worth it. I will be taken for granted again if that were to happen though. My feelings of heartbreak aren’t unique; I know I have felt this way before, and I might feel this way again.

I feel the ghost of his hand on my waist all the time.

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 30)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:2380

Warnings: Language,anger, betrayal,murder vibes only

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

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

“She’s gonna be alright, right?” you asked, biting your nail as you sat beside her bed holding her hand, Charles and Jean on the opposite side of the bed.

“Oh yes,” he assured. “She’s merely sleeping. You two have quite a unique affect on each other,” he noted, giving you a fond look.

“So… tell me again. I’m triggered if someone talks about Loki negatively, and she’s triggered by emotional strain?”

“Exactly,” Jean areed. “While I was in your head… It’s almost as if someone rewired you. Someone got inside your head…”

“That would make sense because as much as I love Loki, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you all over him. He’s done bad things, and so have I but… we had no choice. You can have your opinions and judge him, so I don’t understand why speaking badly of him would make me go beserk,” you said, thinking aloud.

“Whoever threatened you two and brainwashed you into that attack, must’ve done it. He turned the love you two have for each other almost toxic. Not to each other, but to the world.”

“Why? What's the point?” you asked, so confused.

“To keep you fighting. Your mission was to take over Earth, and what happens to someone who comes in and attacks us? We fight back. If the threat of losing your loved ones wasn’t enough, the person controlling you had to make sure to keep your anger alive. With Loki turning into public enemy number one, it would turn you into his biggest defender,” Jean explained.

For a moment, you sat there, angry and stewing. “So you’re saying, the more someone wanted to fight Loki, the more I wanted to fight them? That’s so… awful.”

“Yes, my dear, it is,” Charles concurred. “And Shannon absorbed that brainwashing when she took on your powers, but her mutation twisted it so that any emotional strain makes her powers more powerful, and her body weaker.”

Logan and Scott had left the room, to let Shannon heal and they had to work on things around the school and keep an eye on kids. But that left Steve in a corner looking worried; Remy in the other corner, closest to you; the two telepaths; you; and Shannon.

Just as you were about to inquire further about Shannon’s state, the door swung open. You assumed it would be Storm or Jubilee, coming to check on things or retreive Charles. But instead, you heard a voice that sent chills down your spine.

“Hey, hun, how are the sessions go--” Tony’s voice sounded, but he stopped. You weren’t sure if it was the sight of you or the sight of Shannon in the bed, as if she were under a hospital’s care.

You slightly turned to face a man you’d come to fear. Hell hath no fury like Tony Stark scorned…

When you turned around, his face was that scary, livid, rigid expression he wore when he was past the point of being done.

“Why the fuck are you here?” he demanded in a booming voice, pointing at you as he started to march towards you. “How the hell did you escape?” he ordered.

In an instant, Gambit was in front of you, as you shrunk away in your chair.

“Now hold up there, old man,” he said, trying to ease the tension and trying to get Tony to back up, but he wasn’t having it.

“Out of my way, cajun,” Tony warned in a low voice. “Do you know you’re protecting a criminal? A terrorist?”

“Tony, please,” Charles slightly pleaded. “You’ll only make things worse.” Just as he had said it, the monitors had begun to beep rapidly. Everyone turned to see what was going on.

“Jean, go get Logan. He needs to get Mr. Stark out of this room now,” Charles ordered moving to Shannon’s side to get ready to enter her mind. Tony was worried about her but was still livid that you were somehow here and not back at the tower.

“Steve, I need to you take Y/N back to the tower and secure it so that she cannot leave the cell,” Tony ordered not looking away from you. If looks could kill… he would have killed you twice -- viciously.

“Tony, I’m not leaving Shannon here by herself,” Steve said, worried about her health, seeing how much Tony’s anger was making her weaker than she was a while ago. “You need to calm down. She’s absorbing your emotions and it’s deteriorating her health,” he said with a little more urgency.

Charles used the distraction to enter Shannon’s mind and began locating where in her memories she could be hiding. He could feel a strong pull towards a memory. Following the pull, he reached a memory of what looked like years ago. Shannon was young and was in what looked to be a training room. Curious, Charles entered the memory seeing Shannon was watching her younger self fight with an equally young redhead.

“Shannon, dear, I need you to come with me, You’re letting Tony’s emotions weaken you,” he said approaching her. “Any more time you spend asleep will lead you to entering a coma,” he warned her hoping to get her to look over.

“Hello, Charles. I could sense someone’s anger I just couldn’t figure out whose it was. What’s he doing here?” she asked looking briefly at him then back at herself. “This is the one memory I always seem to find myself returning to…” Her voice had a twinge of sadness as if she’d hoped for something different. “What am I going to tell him, Charles? He didn’t know I had been releasing Y/N to come here for help,” she said with disappointment at herself.

“My dear, there’s no way that he could hold that anger towards you. The worry he holds at this time is much greater,” he said reaching for her hand. “Come now, we must leave this for another day. You must awaken.” She reached for his open hand and allowed him to take her back to where the chaos was happening.

“Tony, I--” you started, hoping to maybe say something, anything to calm him down. But before you could get anything else out, Remy stood beside you, and wrapped a hand over your mouth to keep you from making the situation worse, the other hand wrapping around your shoulder. Remy knew you, and he knew Tony. Tony was usually never one for talking when he was pissed.

“If someone doesn’t get her out of here, I’m about to suit up and take her there myself,” Tony warned.

Charles had returned from Shannon’s mind and had heard what Tony said. Looking over to Shannon in the bed waking up, he knew she’d stop him from doing such a thing.

“No. You won’t…” she said, making everyone look over to the bed. “I might not be well but that won't stop me from holding you down, Tony,” she said as a warning.

You looked over to her and physically sighed with relief knowing she’d finally woken up.

“You would fight me… for her?” he asked, pointing to you, peering at his beloved. “Wow. And I actually thought I meant something to you.” It came out sarcastically, but the hurt was evident in his eyes.

“I'm not about to have the two most important people in my life rip each other to shreds,” she said, looking torn between defending her friend and standing up to the man she loved.

“Shan, I'm not going to fight him,” you said. Remy had eventually let go of your mouth. “Tony… Take me back to the tower if you like. I’m not going to fight you, or hurt anyone,” you promised solemnly.

“Y/N--” Shannon started, protesting.

You held up a hand, not looking at her. “No, Shannon, it’s okay. He has a right to be furious. I escaped. I’m a prisoner… a terrorist… a criminal..” Your eyes lifted to meet Tony’s. “He can escort me back and do with me as he sees fit. I won’t give him any trouble.”

“Well, can’t say it wouldn’t have been fun to fight you. But sometimes the easy way is nice too,” Tony said, walking forward to grab your upper arm.

“Y/N, are you sure?” she asked. ”You’re not a criminal, you’re a victim of a heinous plan.” She sounded upset. Looking towards Tony, he could see her unshed tears. “I was trying to help her lose the powers she didn’t want. To bring back some sort of peace.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you, Tony but not everything is what it looks like…” Turning her gaze to Steve she waved him over.

“What can I do for you, doll?” he asked, sounding concerned for her health.

“Take me to the tower, I’d like to rest in my old room,” she whispered to him.

“If that's what you want,” he affirmed, not sure if he should take her home just yet. Looking to Charles he asked if she was able to leave. “Is it safe for her to go home?”

“Her vitals are back to normal, she’s more than welcome to go.”

“Shannon… Let me take you home,” Tony offered. “I can have Steve take her,” he said, a touch of venom in his voice when he referred to you.

As she slowly stood and Jean got the monitoring systems off of her, and Steve helped her to stand, she shook her head. She weakly responded, “Tony, I’d… I’d like to be away from you for right now…”

With that, Tony’s gaze dropped, and he tugged you along with him. He didn’t break his grip until the two of you got to the car and he practically threw you at the shiny, burgundy vehicle.

“Get in,” he ordered as he rounded the front.

You obeyed immediately. You got in, strapped in, and tried to scoot to the far edge of the seat. But in a sports car, the room was minimal. Tony fired up the engine, and sped off the property.

For the first several minutes, he was silent, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry,” you started, hoping it would be a good place to begin.

“Yeah? For what? Breaking out? Tricking Shannon? Killing dozens of people? Should I go on, or is that enough to start with?” he mocked, glancing over once.

“I didn’t trick Shannon,” you quietly retorted.

“You may have fooled her, but I’m not so easily bought.”

“Tony, I’m not selling anything. I just told her I felt something was weird with these powers and she offered to take me to Xavier’s. I didn’t ask her to.”

“Do you have any idea how serious this is? How much trouble I could be in if anyone saw you? How much trouble you would be in if--” He spewed out different scenarios. He sounded more like an angry parent than someone in charge of the world’s worst felon who just escaped prison.

“Tony… I am sorry. We were very discreet. No one ever saw me leave the tower or my cell, I swear. I didn’t do this to get you or anyone else in trouble.”

“You know, I actually came down to your cell today to tell you that you were up for parole… and you break out. Nice timing. Real nice timing.”

“I’m up for parole?” you asked, expectation rising in your voice and chest.

“Not anymore,” he said, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

You wanted to protest, you wanted to fight it, bargain with him, plead with him… But what good would it do?

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, your voice the softest it had been.

“God. Would you stop saying that?” he asked, clearly irritated. “It’s not like it means anything.”

“Tony, I’m going to keep saying it to you until you believe it. Because I am. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I am sorry for throwing you out of a window. I’m sorry for bringing monsters to Earth. I’m sorry that I hurt Shannon, in more ways than one. I’m sorry you have to watch her suffer and choose between you and me.”

“Stop!” he ordered, getting fed up with you.

“I’m about to say something, and I don’t want you to say a word. Okay?”

All he did was roll his eyes and gestured for you to continue.

“I love you. I still do. I still think you’re my friend. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re in a shitty position, and I didn’t make it easy on you. I know you wish you could trust me. I know you’re more hurt than I could ever imagine when you look at me. I know you miss the good times we used to have and I know you wished all of this would’ve turned out differently, so do I.”

“Don’t act like you know me,” he stated, a slight tone of irritated pleading to his voice. “Don’t act like we’re friends.”

“But we used to be,” you reminded softly.

“Yeah, used to be. Key word there.”

You ignored the sting in your chest that brought on. “Well… this is what is is… And I just want you to know… If I could take this all back, I would. I would trade my soul to undo the damage I’ve caused everyone.”

“Wow that isolation in that cell really gives time for contemplation, doesn’t it?” he mocked with sarcasm.

You smiled gently. “Mock me if you want, Tony. I know deep down in there somewhere you know I didn’t do all of that of my own accord. I know that deep down, you want to be just like Shannon and trust me, and help me, and be my friend again.”

“Shannon doesn’t know what she wants. She’s acting out of guilt.”

You lightly shrugged. “She may be… but then again, maybe she sees the truth for what it is. But for what it’s worth… I do love and miss you as my friend…”

“Yeah, well none of that matters anymore, does it?” he rhetorically asked. It was almost inaudible.

The rest of the ride was silent, but at least Tony didn’t give off the murder vibe any more.

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

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @bubblyanarocks3​​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​​ @kaelingoat​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​ @damalseer​​ @heyitscam99​​ @yknott81​​ @sorryimacrapwriter​​ @glitterquadricorn​​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​​ @alyssaj23​​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton

Loki: @lostinspace33​​ @ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

[a-town-called-hometown]

Red Carnations

Thanks to @krispdreemurr and @knifehecker infecting me with love for their interpretation of the poncho human, I’ve written fic about their concept! Apologies to my regular followers; this fic is pretty different than my regular fare. 

***

You are in the garden with me, monster prince, and you are painted in coreopsis (always cheerful) gold, and you are smiling, smiling, a chervil white (sincerity) smile catching the glints of the sunlight. You are handing me a pair of shears. You are here with me under the hyacinth sky, and your hands are caked with dirt. You are young, I am young, and we are together, and we are trimming flowers.

“My father has drawn up a new proposal,” you are telling me, and oh, your face is aglow with life. “I think it will quiet the new rumors of war.”

I am snipping a leaf from the oak-leaf (true friendship) geranium. I grew it as a gift to you, cultivated carefully to make your garden beautiful, and you’ve smiled on its progress the whole time. You understand that words are unwieldy better than most would, my friend, and you have tried to learn the floral meanings that I use when words fail. I’ve taught you so much. But now it occurs to me, as the scarlet petals flame under my searching fingertips, that I may not have taught you all my meanings. Geranium is a capricious flower, its life thriving or failing based on context. Scarlet warmth flares to life when it’s properly cared for.

Scarlet stupidity reveals itself when it is not.

I swallow, and swallow again. The words bloom slowly. “We can hope so.”

You lay a hand on my shoulder. “You worry too much. I personally contributed to the proposal. I think your people are going to be content with the idea.”

You do not see what I do, my friend. You do not see the budding thorns spiking on the ambassador’s tongue, nor the belladonna poison my fellow soldiers are starting to spit at your soldiers. You are too focused on the bright things – the sun-loving petals of daisies, your bride’s gentle smile, the cloudless skies we’ve had this summer – to notice how tense things have grown. You do not watch storm clouds the way I do. I doubt you’ll ever spot a coming storm on your own.

But you are an optimist, and I do not want to crush your hopes with my clumsy words. I let your hand stay where it is. I trim another leaf. It is a season for scarlet, for scarlet geraniums and scarlet pimpernels (change), and I know, quite suddenly, that the color will be all I see the next time I close my eyes. 

“Prince Asgore,” a voice calls, and I know that this moment has ended.

You let me go. You are smiling. You are coreopsis gold, and chervil white, and you are blossoming like a lily (majesty) in the sunshine. “Everything will be fine.”

It is the last time I see you before war breaks.

***

The war is painted in flowers. There are the aloe-pale cries of grieving families, the basil-sharp hate of human soldiers, the sharpness of misanthropic thistle blooming in my heart. I see oleander blooming in the corners of my vision, mocking beware! beware! at me, but there is nowhere to run, and there is nowhere to hide. I do not see battle, but my heart aches as though I am in the thick of it.

The war is painted in flowers, and I am powerless to uproot the worst of its evils. Two weeks after fighting breaks out, when I am with my country’s ambassador on the other side of the border, the news arrives that the entire royal family is dead. Assassination. The knowledge is gladiolus-blue (you pierce my heart) and bitter as aconite poison. What can I do but reset?

You do not live that time around. You do not live the next ten times around. Always, something thwarts me, something creeping in to steal your life. It would make more sense to cut my losses and let you stay dead, though it pains me to have to make such a cold calculation. But the single time I ride out a timeline past your death, I realize that you are an essential piece to monsterkind’s survival. Without a ruler, the monsters crumble. It is less than a year after your family’s assassination when the final monster perishes. For all your people’s strength, they are powerless without someone to pin their hopes on.

So I reset, and reset again, and we are always in the garden, and you are always smiling, and there is always a scarlet geranium. I try a hundred different actions, a hundred outcomes. I work as ambassador for your kingdom. I work as ambassador for mine. I turn my hands and heart to battle, on both sides, and my trident sweeps through a hundred thousand people, but always, always, your side loses. You die. You die. You die.

Time loses all meaning to me.

I am in the room when it is suggested. I am working on the human side, trying to quell aggression, and your side is losing. There are dozens of people in here, mages and politicians and warmongers, and it is suffocating. I am thinking of the soft white of plum flowers (keep your promises). I am wishing I was somewhere else. My carnation brooch glitters scarlet on my chest, and my fingers are tracing its familiar edges. I am wishing that I was in a garden again.

“The monsters have offered surrender,” a commander says. “With a few conditions.”

“We don’t need to accept conditions. We have them all cornered. We can corral them, and make sure they never take another human soul again.”

“I agree,” a mage says. Her eyes are the bright yellow of a black-eyed Susan. Justice. “But we don’t need to kill them. They’ve already surrendered. We can trap them somewhere so they can’t get out.”

“And how would you suggest that?”

“There is a spell to make a massive barrier. It would take a lot of power, but it is better than killing them, surely.”

There is fig flower-colored argument, there are words thrown back and forth across the room, but I am listening with only half an ear. I wish I had my hands planted deep in the earth, because then I could finally coax some words out from where they’ve been hiding, but I have only the bereft anemone (forsaken) feelings left to guide me. I have to think back on oak-leaf geraniums and summer sunshine.

I have lived through this flower-painted war a thousand times, trying to keep monsterkind alive, trying to minimize the deaths this war accumulates, and there has been no timeline where peace comes about yet. This newly-proposed peace is horrible. You will be locked underground and left to wither. It is a fate I would not wish on even my most stubborn black rosebush. 

But.

It is a solution.

It is a solution that leaves you alive.

It is a solution that leaves you, and your loved ones, and the remnants of your people, alive.

It is a solution that keeps your people safe from mine. The other mages believe that it is the other way around, that we are protecting ourselves from the imagined ravages of monsterkind. I know, in the thorny chambers of my thistle-flower heart, that they are wrong. Humanity is always the aggressor, always the sharp and unrelenting foe, and you will be safest when we cannot touch you at all.

I summon up a few fragile words. War has bled the color out of my words, and I have no flowers to fill the gaps with vibrant meaning,  but I manage to say, “I think it’s an excellent idea.”

The discussion continues. I am the white of raspberry flowers (regret), but I do not waver. My fingers trace the scarlet edges of my brooch.

Red carnation.

(My heart is breaking.)

***

It hurts worse than anything I have ever done. No death I have experienced can compare to the pain. It is belladonna and buttercup and aconite agony, the sharp burning of a million poisons. I feel like it is my body being split in half, not just my soul, but when it is done, my ability to reset is gone.

It’s terrifying, this permanence. I’m used to every timeline being as fleeting as cherry blossoms in the spring. But I trust you, my old friend. Someday, you will find a way out. It there is anyone who will find a way to break the barrier, it will be you.

(And I am tired of the weight. A thousand lives is far too many to live. I am only a single person, a thin branch with too many unpruned leaves, and another round of resets would snap me entirely. It might be cowardice. But I do not want to have the responsibility anymore. As scary as it is, it’s freeing.)

If I had a purple hyacinth (please forgive me, please, I tried all I could and I am so, so tired of living), I would bring it to you. But their season is over, the gardens razed for a hundred miles, and I know it would be inadequate. Instead, I simply wash my face until it is raw. I weave my brightest red ribbons into my hair. I put on my cleanest clothes, I thread a single camellia into my braid, and I take myself and my trident to the refugee camp.

Your coreopsis gold has mellowed to marigold (grief), your chervil white softened to snowdrop (consolation and hope), and your king’s crown sits heavy on your head. You’ve grown older, but you are still so young. Younger than me, now, with all the years I’ve accumulated. There are thick shadows under your eyes. When I approach you, you are wary of the weapon in my hands, until you finally recognize my face.

There are questions, and attempted hugs (I refuse, I refuse, I do not want to cry my helenium tears in your arms, not now, not on the eve of your imprisonment.) You try to ask me about what’s happening. You want to know if I’m all right.

I shake my head. I press the trident into your hands. My voice is scratchy as willow bark. “Keep this. It will… help you find a way out.”

“Out of the barrier?”

I nod. 

There are so many words to say. I want to ask you if you still remember our flower garden. I want to tell you how much your friendship has meant to me. I want to say that I have lived a thousand lives, and I have died a thousand deaths, and through it all, I’ve seen you blossom like a chamomile flower, with the same strength in adversity it carries. I want to tell you are a good king. I want to tell you that you will someday be free.

But my words have all withered at the root. An entire acre of flowers would be insufficient to say what I wish I could say. I don’t know how to express any of it. All I can do is unthread the blossom in my hair and give it to you. All I can do is turn my back and leave you to your preparations.

This body I have is not long for this world. Soon, I will give my family persimmon blossoms; a request to bury me in nature’s beauty. I will stay standing long enough to watch your live burial, and I will keep my eyes on you as long as I can when it happens. I wonder if your eyes will meet mine. I wonder if you will understand by then. If you will remember the meaning of the single flower wilting in your grasp.

Camellia.

(My destiny is in your hands.)

You’ll see the sun shine again, king of monsters. It is the last promise I can give to you. Keep me close.

I will be with you in the dark.

[doctorguilty]

[[MORE]]

Well I can confidently say the zoloft is making a huge difference because I could have NEVER handled the past 2 work weeks, much less TWO consecutive 11 hour days at all, without having an enormous depressive breakdown like I was having those before like omg remember it wasn't that long ago I was saying like..... "my breakdowns are happening closer and closer together it's becoming too much and I'm scared about how much longer I can go on like this" and just like that... a couple weeks in and it just stopped? Like I had a couple small breakdowns here and there over like specific triggers going on irl, my bpd is still p stirred up, but I've otherwise felt like.... fine ....... like I don't wake up anymore with my FIRST thought of the day being wishing I were dead, I cant remember crying myself to sleep recently either??? Like things have been immensely stressful but mostly I just feel angry about it and I think that anger is just me wanting to change things that are hurting me, if that makes sense, idk, it's hard to put into words...

I just feel. Really good. Like not numb, not even apathetic... like my sadness doesnt feel so consuming, it doesnt rip my mind apart all day and distract me, my brain isnt feeding me an endless stream of in intrusive thoughts, anxiety, and paranoia..... like its not all entirely gone but it's so.. minimal... and I feel like theres more space in me to feel happiness or at least contentment, at always just feeling like things will be okay and not be overwhelmed by hopelessness

My brain isnt suffering from vacancy anymore either I'm still a little fuzzy here and there but mostly my thought streams are all there making me feel creative and internally mentally stimulated! Omg it was genuinely SO scary at first because like.. the first week or so? I literally lost the ability to imagine anything in my minds eye, like I couldn't see pictures in my head anymore and I was so unimaginably scared beyond words like how can i do my art or even just LIVE without that... but I wanted to give it time and not bail right away... so when the psychiatrist followed up with me I told her about that like, how my mind was empty and it was scaring me and she said like, it needs some time to balance out dont worry, practice filling the void with positive things, so that's what I did ...... like what I do is I would like, try to pull up memories of stuff in my like, my brain art files i had been thinking about for a while like I would listen to a song I had drawn out some story board thumbnails for and be like , ok man remember you know what this should look like, right? And just try to imagine the scenes because they were things I saw in my mind before! It was really really hard at first like... it was weird I really dont know how to describe it but over time it came back to me all very naturally and it was so comforting at the time cause being able to picture stuff I had before made me optimistic my mind wasnt like, damaged .... anyway now I'm back to normal and I can imagine whatever again on cue like, (imagines fern fortnight dancing) yep it's all working up there

SO yeah it was... quite an experience but it seems the worst of the side effects are over and its making me feel better and I'm really really glad about that, I definitely had my doubts in fact like, I barely know anyone at all who found success with the first anti depressant they tried????? But that's how lamictal was for me too as the first thing I ever started taking like....... whack...... my mood stabilized my depression anti my meat huge

I'm defs sticking with this so long as nothing suddenly changes or goes wrong in fact I dont know if I'll even bother going up on the dose when they talk to me about that because I feel like that was my one mistake with lamictal, a prescriber haphazardly upped me even though I'd been on the same dosage for years and I honestly dont know if that was a good idea and I wasnt even in a mental place where I could be self advocating (which only makes it worse he did that???) So this time I'm handling this in a "if it ain't broken dont fix it" way and right now I feel less broken than I ever have in my life

[fockmeuprealgood]

The Bird’s Song - 7

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OC

Warnings: violence, romance, slow burn, fluff, ptsd, angst

Description: Adelia is near the end when the Avengers save her from a Leviathan compound. She gets thrown into the world of superheroes when the Avengers try to figure out who she is and why she was a prisoner in the first place.

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My vision was dark and my body was in pain. Knees sore from kneeling for too long on the hard floor. Wrists and arms sore from being bound tightly behind my back. My lungs burned from a lack of oxygen. Icy water shocked my system. Someone quickly pulled my head back up and then plunged me back into the water. I couldn’t keep my eyes open as my body began to spasm. Threatening to inhale.

Do it. Take a breath. It’ll make you feel better. You need to. Just give in.

I did. I began to cough and sputter, a new pain filled my chest as water entered my lungs. My head was pulled from the water again and I was thrown onto the hard-concrete floor. The pounding in my head disoriented me. I lay there, spitting up water, drool hung from the side of my mouth.

My vision was blurry as I looked around the room, the man who held me under paced around me. My father observed the situation while standing along one of the walls of the room. Two more men stood near the door.

I rested my head on the floor and closed my eyes, I wanted to let the darkness consume me. I wanted a break.

Go to sleep. You deserve it. You can sleep for as long as you want.

A sharp kick to the stomach woke me back up, my body contorted as I turned to throw up more water. The man picked me up by my hair and put me on my aching knees again. He turned me to face my father. Water dripped down my face as I turned my head up to look at him. He uncrossed his arms and took two steps forward. Leaning down he roughly grabbed my jaw and awkwardly bent my head up towards him.

“You little bitch, you can’t do anything right.” He barked in my face. “We gave you so many chances to help the Leviathan cause, to help your family. You let us down.” He shoved me back. I landed oddly on my shoulders; it provoked more pain in my tied arms.

I rolled over to my stomach as the man delivered two more kicks to my side. I gagged and dry heaved. He grabbed my hair again and dragged me over to the tub full of ice water. He pushed my body up against it and shoved my head under the water.

I screamed under water as my vision grew darker, my body slowly began to relax as I let go of reality. I could feel myself slump over the tub as the grip on my hair got tighter. Eventually I let everything go and fell into the depths of darkness.

I quickly jolted up. Sitting in bed I glanced around the room. I panted wildly as I gripped my sheets tightly. Sweat covered my forehead, the room seemed to be a few degrees too warm. I slowly peeled the covers off of my body and climbed out of bed. Shakily, I walked to the bathroom.

I turned on the light and grabbed a washcloth from one of the drawers. I used it to wipe my face and set it back down on the counter. I pushed my hair back out of my face as I walked back out of the bathroom and looked out of the windows that lined the wall.

The dream had shaken me, it was a memory that just felt so real. I could feel the guilt I felt then for letting my father down. I picked at the sleeve of my shirt. My nerves grew the longer I thought about my past punishment.

Wanting to focus my attention somewhere else, I walked over to the book shelf. I randomly plucked a book out and examined the cover. To Kill A Mockingbird, the cover read, with the shadow of a tree spread across the soft cover book.

I made my way out of my room and quietly down the hall to the smaller common room I had noted earlier when I was on my way here with Tony. I stopped short as I entered the room, noticing a figure staring out of the floor to ceiling windows.

Steve turned towards me as I took a few more steps closer to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, watching me go to find a seat on the couch. I shook my head and sat down as he turned back to the windows. The city was much calmer seeing as it was so early in the morning. The sun was beginning to peak up from the horizon, but the city was still dark. Everything was calm without the bustling traffic.

“Neither could I,” He responded. “Nothing new for me though.”

He walked around the couch and rested himself a few feet away from me. I curled my legs into my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I placed my cheek on knees as I looked at him. I watched as he relaxed himself into the couch.

He had slight wrinkles along his forehead and eyes. If one looked hard enough, you could spot the dark circles and bags under his eyes. They were minimal, but still there. I assumed the serum helped prevent those sorts of things. Just the years of stress and fighting wore on him.

“You worry,” I whispered. He spun his head back to me. I watched as he also took in my tired appearance.

“Yes, um, I do.”

“It’s ok.”

“Yeah,” Whispering, he nodded back at me. He wiped his hands on his pants and looked down at the floor. “About my friends, I do. And about everything, if I’ve chosen to do the right thing.”

“You’ll be ok.” I didn’t know how to reassure the super soldier.

I looked at him for a few seconds more before turning to the book I almost forgot about. Steve didn’t seem very open to the idea of talking and it wasn’t like I wanted to have a full conversation either. Cracking the book open, I turn to the first chapter not bothering to read to summary.

I read until my eyes began to strain and my stomach began to growl. I lowered the book onto the coffee table in front of me and looked around the room. Steve had left a while ago, the tv still droning from when he had turned it on. The sun streamed through the windows and it was now well on its way into the sky.

I got up from the couch and stretched my arms into the air. I was about to head up the common room to make myself breakfast when Sam called out to me. He emerged from the hall that housed our bedrooms. Together we made our way to the elevator.

~~~

I strolled through the quiet halls of the Tower as I made my way back to my room. I rubbed my aching hands; they were sore from constantly working all day with Tony. The sun had already gone down and most of Tony’s employees had gone home, I hadn’t spotted any Avengers, assuming they were all calling it a night in their private rooms.

I rubbed my tired eyes as I made it to the common rooms and down towards my bedroom. As I pressed my hand to the doorknob, I heard the door next to mine creak out. Sam poked his head out before fully making his way out next to me.

“I heard you pass; thought I would say goodnight,” He said. “I haven’t seen you much since Tony put you to work.”

“Yeah, he keeps me busy.”

“Um, I wanted to ask, how have you been feeling?”

“Good, I guess. As good as I can be. I’ve been putting on weight, getting strength back.”

“But, I mean, how have you been holding up?”

“Oh,” I looked down at my feet, my fingers began to fidget a little. I looked back up at Sam, then off next to him, at the wall behind his head. “Ok, um, so many things are different for me now. It’s scary.”

“New experiences are alarming. It seems like you’ve adjusted pretty easily though. Like you’re comfortable.”

“I trust you. Tony and Steve a little too, but everyone else around here, I don’t know their intentions.” I whispered, looking back into Sam’s eyes. They were round and bright. They showed that he was inviting, that he cared. It was his turn to break eye contact. “Why are you guys letting me stay here?” The question popped into my head. I didn’t get why the Avengers were letting me live here.

“Because you kinda hit a soft spot in me,” He admitted. “I wanted to keep you close, keep an eye on you.”

“Sam, when can I go home?” That caused his eyes to snap up at me.

“Go home?” He looked shocked. “What do you mean, go home?” I wanted to crawl under the covers on my bed and forget that I even mentioned this. Sam placed his hands on his hips.

“The compound,” My voice cracked. “I’m gonna need to go back soon.”

“Adelia, why would you need to go back there?”

“Cause the longer I’m away, the worse my punishment will be for leaving them.”

Sam sighed. Dropping his hands to his sides, he slowly made his way over to me. He gently grabbed my head with his hands and tilted me up to look at him. The tears burned as they pooled in the corners of my eyes. Sam wiped away a stray tear that began to fall down my face.

“You don’t have to go back. And I want you to remember, that I will never let anyone hurt you,” His eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “No one’s going to touch you.”

My lip quivered as he pulled me into a tight hug. I just let him hold me, I took in the clean smell he gave off, as if he just got out of the shower. We stood in the dark hallway for a couple more minutes until Sam slowly pulled away.

“We’ll keep you safe, not matter what,” He was very serious. He gestured towards the doors opposite mine and his. “Steve is on a mission with Bucky right now, they’ll be back tomorrow. There will always be people here to look after you, whether it be me or Tony or even Peter.”

I nodded and we looked at each for a few moments. I slowly turned into my room; Sam closed the door for me as I sat on the bed. I didn’t bother changing into pajamas, I just kicked off my shoes and climbed under the covers. I laid there with a blank mind as I just waited for sleep to wash over me.

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Ok, I promise, we get to meet Bucky in the next chapter. I’m excited! Thank you all for reading, it means the world to me!