#and also not opening the drawers and having The Dread of not having sorted everything and wondering if things even fit.............

[laesas]

My mental health has been pretty good lately. In celebration I'm going to try on several pairs of jeans and trousers that fit last summer :)

[dirtbag-linecook-kyloren]

HANDS OFF OUTTAKE

this was originally going to be something to serve as a sequel, but now that I'm writing a sequel, it doesn't really fit in with where I'm going, so it just exists in a liminal space and i like it so I also don't want to waste it

Thus far, wedding planning continues to be the worst thing to ever happen to Hux. Every day he wakes up, curls into Ben’s arms, and then goes to work with a sense of dread about choosing napkins and booking their photographer. He’ll come to the restaurant after work and hole up in the booth he used to roll silverware, flip through his planner and let Ben shove some strange new menu item at him. Opinions about DJs and guest lists will be exchanged, and if Hux gets particularly lost in his machinations, he’ll end up at the restaurant until almost closing time.

Desperate for a break from thinking about cakes, Hux has been rolling silverware for Finn. In return, both Finn and Dameron are pretending to be actually interested in the issue Hux has run into while trying to nail down their date with the venue.

“Obviously it should be on a Tuesday,” Dameron says. “The restaurant’ll have to close, and Tuesday’s are always dead. Plus, everything will be cheaper with a mid-week wedding, and it’s not like many people are traveling in.”

For the first time ever, Hux admits that Dameron might have a good idea. The week he’s aiming for has an opening on Tuesday, and the photographer they want is booked that weekend but clear for the rest of that month, as of now. Half the line is going to be standing on Ben’s half of the altar and Phasma will be on his side, as will Mitaka and Sloane. Just the wedding party ties up enough staff that opening would be difficult, ignoring the fact it’s the owner’s wedding.

“How romantic,” Hux drawls, but the more he debates with himself, loathe to grant Dameron a victory, the better it all sounds.

“You’re not romantic, so it’s fitting.” Hux looks up at Ben, glaring for show. “You have to stop doing free labor. It would be incredibly awkward if you hurt yourself and had to sue me.”

Hux continues rolling silverware as an act of rebellion, not so he has something to keep his hands busy. Finn just polishes forks and hands them over. Rey sticks her head out of the office and calls from Dameron to bring the bar drawer, and in a few minutes, it’s just Hux, Ben, and Rey in the restaurant, all the hourly staff free for the evening.

“I still can’t believe you’re letting Lando be the officiant at your wedding,” Rey says while going over numbers with Ben. Hux is still rolling silver, but he pauses long enough to shrug.

“It was either that or hire somebody. Free was better than spending money.” Plus, Hux has been promised a copy of the remarks a month in advance for final approval. Obviously, Ben had mentioned at some point that Hux was worried about everything going smoothly. By the time he’s finished the silver, Rey is waving good night and Ben is putting the drop in the safe. Half the lights are already off, so Hux can’t read the expression on Ben’s face until he’s already sitting in the booth.

“You think you can live with a Tuesday wedding?” he asks, and Hux traces that soft smile with his thumb.

“More easily that I could live with a church one,” he assures Ben. “We should get home.”

Ben nods, but he also leans in to kiss Hux, which is sort of a mixed signal. Making out in a booth isn’t really conducive to arriving at their house. Still, Hux lets one of his hands rest on the nape of Ben’s neck as bites trail down the column of his throat.

“You better be the only one with access to the security cameras,” Hux mutters, letting himself get pushed into the corner of the booth. Ben just laughs, strong hands grabbing bony hips.

“Do you remember that first date?” Ben asks. “Not ours, but the one that stayed too late?”

Surprisingly, Hux does. Most of his memory from that evening is taken up by the parking lot, flood lights and stars and the soft press of a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“What about it?” His voice shakes with the question, and they’ve been together long enough that Hux is shameless about it. If anything, he lets the words hang, lets them fall slowly out of his mouth. It’s not a moan, but Ben holds his hips tight enough that Hux knows the effect is the same.

Then, Hux understands what Ben was hinting at.

“I’m not going to let you fuck me in this booth,” he says. The magic is slightly ruined, but that’s not what makes a good sex life, Hux has found. Magic is inconsistent, but blow jobs always deliver.

“What about the bathroom?”

There’s an earnest nature to the question that gives Hux pause. Has this been some long undelivered fantasy? What does it say about his morals, that Hux is even considering it?

“That still has to be a health code violation,” Hux says. “At the very least indecent exposure.” He sits with the suggestion for another moment, taking in the blown state of Ben’s pupils. “Only if it’s the women’s room. I need to be able to use the bathroom after this without coming to half mast.”

Just like that, Ben is dragging Hux the few meters from the booth to the bathrooms. They nearly falls through the door as Ben pushes him against it, pressing Hux against the wall with the force of his kiss. Normally, this is where clothes are peeled off piece by piece, where Hux pulls the elastic out of Ben’s hair and lets it fall around his shoulders. Instead, he keeps it in place, lets himself imagine they’re halfway through a long shift and so desperate for each other they couldn’t wait to clock out. Hux is working both hands underneath Ben’s chef’s coat when he starts to put the pieces together.

“You’ve thought about this before,” he huffs as Ben drops to his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulls his pants down. Hux lets himself be turned around, takes a step back and spreads his legs. “Watched me running food and taking orders and dreamed about having me all to yourself in here.”

They moan at the same time, Ben from the picture Hux is painting and Hux from hands on his ass, spreading him far enough to feel breath against his hole.

“Probably more times than you’re comfortable with,” Ben admits. Before Hux can reply, Ben leans in, running the flat of his tongue along his hole. One kiss, then another, and then that tongue is pressed into him. Hux settles his face on the tile of the wall, the chill of the surface a small relief against the heat of his skin.

“Don’t-“ Hux starts, breathless as he tries to collect himself, but Ben delves deeper. “Don’t you dare tease me.”

Ben laughs against his hole, a tickling puff of air, and then he’s pulling back. Hux arches his back to look over his shoulder, watching as Ben takes his on fingers into his mouth. They come away glistening in the low light, but there’s not much time to look at them before they sit, teasing, at his entrance. He’s being toyed with, gentle circles playing with that ring of muscle, but Hux let’s Ben have his fun, stops himself from pushing back and impale himself on the digit.

His patience is rewarded as Ben stands up, crowding Hux further into the wall and settling his face in the crook of Hux’s neck. He’s opened with slow, gentle hands, and Hux wants to turn around, wishes they were home and in bed so he could see Ben’s expression, but memory will have to be enough.

“Is this how it went in your fantasy?” Hux asks, proud his voice remains steady and Ben slides a second finger in. “You sure no one will notice you're missing?” Ben only moans in answer, but it’s enough to let Hux know he’s found the right thread to pull at. “That party could come in at any minute, and they’ll need you on the line.”

A bit of his restraint slipping, Ben shoves three fingers inside him. It’s dry, but tomorrow is Saturday; Ben may have to get up early to greet the day, but Hux can stay in bed and nurse any aches. He whines when Ben pulls out, only to hear the rustling of fabric as pants are pushed down and the pop off a cap.

Wait.

“Why did you have lube in your pocket?” Hux asks, turning around in Ben’s grasp. “There’s no way you bring that every day. Am I forgetting something?” It’s not their anniversary, Hux knows that much, and Ben’s birthday isn’t for another few weeks. He thinks back to this morning, how interested Ben was in his plans for after work, and how pleased he’d seemed that Hux was going to stop by. “You can just ask for things if you want them,” he says gently. “They don’t just have to be my idea.”

Ben doesn’t answers, kissing him instead, and Hux lets him, throws the hair elastic to the floor settles his hands into long hair and loses himself in the feeling of lips on lips. Gentle hands face him back towards the wall, and the artifice of the moment is gone, but the need remains and Ben pushes in, easing himself inch by inch. Any burn in his muscles is soothed by the hands holding him close and the whispers in his ear.

“I can’t believe I get to marry you,” Ben says in the middle of it all, as if it’s not Hux who’s the lucky one. He reaches down to grab Ben’s hand, threading their fingers together as Ben finds his rhythm. The absurdity of the situation catches up to him for a moment, from the tile under his cheek to the tinny edge of music through the speakers. They’ll need to remember to turn that off after they clean the bathroom, and-

As if sensing his focus has drifted, Ben lets his nails dig into Hux’s hips, grounding him in the act. His teeth tug at the thin skin of Hux's neck and he braces himself with one arm, pushing back into Ben's thrusts. Skin on skin is the only sound beyond their racing breaths, until Ben wraps a hand around Hux, thumb toying with the head. The noise he makes is half way between a moan and a gasp, a choked-off pull of air.

Hux is just on the edge and trying to find the right angle for his hips when Ben bites down on the junction where neck meets shoulder, the hand on Hux speeding up with his thrusts, and he comes, painting the wall as he leans against it to stay upright.

"Fuck." Ben's words are muffled against his skin, and Hux realizes he's stopped, dick sheathed in Hux.

"What's wrong?" he asks, doing his best to breath at a regular pace and almost managing it. He grinds back, pleased at the gasp he pulls from Ben. Seconds pass, and he's found enough muscle control to pick up where Ben left off in his rhythm, but the hand on his hip stops him. Lips trail up his neck, stopping to press kisses into his skin.

"Can't I just like being in you?" Ben says, but Hux ignores him. He can, of course, but things aren't always so simple, and the glare Hux sends over his shoulder conveys that well enough that Ben flushes.

“You can,” Hux grants. “But like it while you fuck me, please.” Ben laughs, breath tickling Hux’s lip, but his hands come to a bruising grip, grinding into him, and Hux decides not to take it personally.

“How often did you think about this?” Hux huffs, resting his head against the wall. “More than I’m comfortable with is the wrong answer. I need to know the first time, every time, I need-“ Ben adjusts his hips, and each thrust is starting to hurt, but he can tell Ben’s close, just a little longer, all he has to do is hold on.

“Since you decked me,” Ben says, face in Hux’s neck. “Knocked me on my ass. I literally fell for you.”

He can’t breathe deeply enough to laugh, chest rising and falling in a shallow, frantic rhythm, but one of his hands comes down to hold Ben’s, entwine their fingers over his hip.

“No repeat performances,” he forces out as Ben’s thrusts stutter, as his teeth dig into Hux’s shoulder, as he pushes in deep and comes, falling into Hux. His knees are still shaking, but somehow, he manages to keep them upright, manages not to let himself collapse on the floor with little care that it won’t get cleaned until the morning.

“Fuck,” Ben mutters again. His arms have moved, wrapping around Hux’s waist and keeping him in place, keeping himself buried.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Hux says when he can breathe and think at the same time again. “I’m not going to punch you, even if you ask for it.” Ben laughs, and Hux winces as he pulls out, stays in place and listens to the paper towel dispenser, the faucet turning on and off, hisses in shock at the cool wipe of it over his hole.

“Not planning to ask,” Ben says. “Just tell you when this idea started.” Ever the gentlemen, Ben crouches down to pull his pants up, tucking Hux into his briefs, zipping the fly, closing the buckle on his belt. He slides his own pants back up, reties the draw string before turning Hux around and leaning back into him, their chests flush together and his hands at the small of Hux’s back.

“I cannot have been attractive that day,” Hux mutters, pressing kisses to Ben’s jaw, lips scratching against his stubble.

“You’re always attractive,” Ben shoots back, sliding a hand down to squeeze his ass.

“Factually incorrect,” he says, but now, all he wants to do is get home, crawl into bed, and fall asleep wrapped up just like this. There’s not time to continue this argument; they need to wipe his spend off the wall and lock up. “Come on, I’ve been up since five AM. Take pity on me, or at the very least, take me home.”

-

because it's gonna contradict the sequel I can't post it on ao3 so this is just for yall lol

[crisalidaseason]

Our readings

Armin is a haunted little guy, kinda traumatized, and you're a psychic that can't help find him cute

This was looong overdue, thank you so much for the patience!

Count: about 6,5k Content warnings: armin has a traumatic past, supernatural elements menitones, psychic female reader, psychic practices (based on a latinamerican context) reader uses she/her, I kinda inspired myself on a friend of mine for the psychic part (sshe was my research for best representation), sloooow buuuuurn, ya'll don't even hold hands, Armin is deeply stunted and traumatized, attempted humor, orignal character (Gael Zinitra, a friend of yours)

Armin - the first reading

“Thank you sir, have a nice day” Armin politely said to the customer.

The small town’s library was experiencing a slower pace than usual, the rain probably scaring any potential visitors. Armin did not mind much, he would be paid no matter how many books people borrowed or returned. Those days were a perfect opportunity for the boy to indulge in his own readings, diving into another interesting story with very few interruptions. Lately the blonde had been reading a thriller, The midnight palace. Despite his distaste for horror stories, Armin had to admit that this particular author knew how to balance supernatural with plausible explanations.

“Hello?”

The pace was slow, but there were still interruptions. Armin closed his book immediately and went to the front desk. He quickly recognized the man in front of him, a familiar face Armin had seen enter the library quite often lately - and he always checked strange books, mostly inside the occultism umbrella. 

“The usual, Mr. Zinitra?” Armin asked, already fishing the keys from the drawer.

“Yes, but I also need to check some newspapers” The man said as he handed his library card to Armin.

While the blond opened the door of the archives to the man, the blonde took note of the usual jittery behavior he sported. Mr. Zinitra seemed nervous every single time he came into the library, as if he dreaded it.

“Just call me if you need, sir” Armin said after setting up the machine for the man to check the newspaper. 

As Armin returned to the front desk and entered the code to Mr. Zinitra’s card, Armin once again wondered why such an elegant man was reading so many strange books and documents. He seemed to be a sort of lawyer or businessman, and none of those careers really required knowledge on the occult, especially when the person seemed so uncomfortable with said content. Despite the wondering, the blond boy never indulged his curiosity, he had no interest in accidentally getting involved with occultists.

“Here, Armin” the man returned about an hour later.

Armin glanced at the titles of the books and archives briefly, he was reading about south american folklore, if the blond’s spanish did not fail him. After everything was checked, Mr. Zinitra left with a quick farewell. Armin had no other people come into the library for the rest of the afternoon, a blessing for his reading improvement. Closing was quiet, as usual, and the rain was less intense for the ones who needed to walk home. The night was colder than he enjoyed it, his fingers already suffering.  

Upon finally arriving at his modest, yet old, apartment complex, Armin greeted the night guard and climbed the two sets of stairs leading to the first floor. He was already struggling to unlock his door when he heard a commotion in the apartment next to his. Armin never had noisy neighbors, thankfully, and he wondered if the person was feeling well.

Should I knock on the door?

He pondered for a few minutes. The woman who lived beside Armin seemed to not share the place with anybody.

What if she hurt herself, or someone broke in?

He was not a courageous person in the slightest - a coward in all senses, who ran away from his own hometown - but he also would feel guilt destroy his mind later in the night.

“Miss?” he knocked on the door.

He waited, but no answer. Armin did not want to eavesdrop, but he approached the door and tried to perceive any noise inside. Dead silence.

“Miss? Are you alright? I heard noises and just wanted to check” he tried again “You don’t need to open the door, just say something if you need help”

Silence. 

Armin’s stomach started to fill with the familiar dread that enslaved him since childhood. His breathing became erratic as the silence persisted. With trembling hands, he opened his own door and quickly turned on the lights, blue eyes scanning the room. He checked the bathroom hesitantly, relieved to see it untouched and hiding nobody. His breath was still loud, but the warm and long bath helped ease his nerves, to the point he almost forgot what had happened. Once dressed and fed, he read more chapters of the book and eventually fell asleep.

You - the first reading

“There is no use in worrying about it” you said while Gael drove you home “I am sure of my instincts”

“I know” the tall man said “but is it necessary to go alone? What harm is there If I join you?”

You sighed, but still amused.

“Gael, you have a young wife and an even younger child at home. Need I say more?”

“Lia will understand, she worries about you as much as I do”

You watched as your friend drove attentively, the crease between his brows evidence of his concern.

“If I feel unsafe, I will call you”

“Promise me?”

You nodded, but the action did not help him relax any further. The older man was very paranoid about your consultations, always pessimistic about the safety of your job.

“Thank you for getting the books for me” you said “as always”

“It’s nothing” he replied “Although library duty is very difficult”

“It’s either this or ghost hunting” you mocked the nickname he gave to your consultations.

“It’s just…” he started “It’s not the task”

“It’s the librarian, isn’t it?” you said “Armin Arlert”

Your assistant nodded. Gael was almost like a sponge, absorbing people’s feelings. You had offered to teach him how to deal with it, but the man was never interested - and you were not one to force people to open up to their abilities. 

“He is deeply disturbed” he was whispering “I have to be careful not to touch him”

“If it’s too bad, I can go check the books on my own” you offered “I am familiar enough with the town at this point”

“No, no! It’s okay” Gael shook his head “It wears off as soon as I leave, I’m just telling you because I think he needs help”

“He won’t accept it” you said “He is a runner”

Gael sighed. You wondered if Armin reminded Gael of himself: the scholar and professor Mr. Zinitra, an intelligent yet terrified man. Terrified of what he saw, with no idea how to handle the hauntings. 

“Of course he is” he said, the first part more to himself “but your mother saved me, and I was a runner too”

You did not want to get involved with the librarian, you had a tendency of letting people come to you instead. Armin would seek you when he was ready. Just like Gael did when he could not handle the shadows anymore.

“I will try” you said once the car parked in the apartment complex you were renting “see you tomorrow for dinner, tell Lia I’ll bring dessert”

Zinitra nodded and waited for you to climb the stairs and enter your apartment. As soon as you entered, the white kitten woke up and stretched, meowing softly. You caressed him under the chin and kissed between his ears.

“Hello, Tino” you greeted. 

There was a black pen on the ground, along with some blank papers. The kitten had revenge over you being late again.

“I fed you before leaving, it should be enough for your belly to be full until tomorrow” you joked with the small animal.

The kitten was quietly sitting on your desk, tail moving smoothly from side to side, the bright blue eyes almost staring into your soul. Then, the little one turned his attention to the side, quickly, tail showing signs of alert. You paid attention to your surroundings, until a noise came through. An agonized cry echoed through the thin walls dividing the apartments.

“It’s the neighbor, Tino” you said “he must be having nightmares again”

Armin - alignment

He woke up in a cold sweat and most likely yelling. His hands went straight to his chest, trying to force his lungs to function by slamming his fists. Tears burned his face and he wanted to scream in rage.

He thought he was getting better. 

Stumbling, Armin left the bed and turned on the lights again, the small lampshade not enough to shun away his panic. The bathroom lights also went on as he drenched his face with water, eventually dampening the front of his shirt and the ground. He avoided looking in the mirror, heading straight for the towel and drying himself as best as he could. He did not want to return to bed, not in a million years, his only option was to return to an old habit of his. Wearing an extra hoodie, socks and house shoes, he went outside.

The air was colder than before, and Armin almost regretted his choice, the railing on the narrow corridor almost hurt when the blonde rested his hand against it. His thoughts were rapidly moving, bringing to the surface many memories he wanted to drown for years. The tears were still stinging his eyes, but did not spill anymore, he refused to cry over old fears. There was nothing beneficial in remembering what had happened, even if his nightmares enjoyed to torture his convictions. He wondered if seeing a doctor was necessary, maybe have the sleeping drugs prescribed again, even if it came with the strange numbness and exhausting sleep.

“Mr. Arlert?”

He almost jumped over the railing, holding a hand over his still frightened heart. He turned his attention to the voice, which belonged to his recent neighbor. She was wearing a thick robe, holding a small white and yellow striped cat.

“Are you feeling well? I heard you shouting” she said, her eyes were a shade he could not decipher under the low light of the corridor lamps.

“Uhm” he tried, but his throat was extremely dry and he had a coughing fit.

The woman quickly entered her apartment again, but leaving the door open - if Armin was not on the verge of disassociating, he would think she was crazy for that. She returned with a small canteen of what he assumed was water.

“Here”

He drank from the canteen, draining it. He had not noticed how thirsty he was, and silently praised whoever invented drinking water. Armin returned her canteen, watching as she placed it on a nearby table. Her apartment door was wide open, but soon the woman turned and let go of the cat, closing the door in the process before the small animal could escape.

“I thought you had hurt yourself” she said, hugging her frame due to the cold.

“I-uh” he had a difficult time speaking, words not finding a way to his mouth “it’s nothing”

“That did not seem to be nothing” her eyes narrowed slightly.

“It is” he reinforced, stuttering “it was nothing”

He avoided looking at her, his blue eyes staring at the stained tiles of the hall instead.

“I also have them” she whispered “a warm cup of lemongrass tea helps sometimes”

He wanted to snort, but refrained from doing so. She did not deserve his bitterness over a problem she had no fault in.

“Tried it” he simply said “warm flavored water can only do so much”

She chuckled, nodding. Silence fell over them, but surprisingly it did not feel uncomfortable - apart from the cold.

“Do you want to come in?” She said “I can make that tea for you, even if it doesn’t do much”

Armin’s first response for her invitation would be negative. He had no interest in talking to anyone at the moment, he accepted his loneliness fully, but the blonde also did not want to return to his apartment or stay in the cold corridor.

“At least to warm you up” she offered.

He nodded and the woman opened the door carefully, holding the kitten and allowing Armin to enter her small home. It was much like his own - one room and a bathroom- but there were a few statues on the shelves and paintings on the walls. Armin himself had nothing in his home, despite living in the complex for far longer than his neighbor, he did not have a single piece of decor apart from piles of books.

“Make yourself comfortable” she said, already putting a kettle on the small stove in the corner.

The blond man looked around, he was not about to sit on her bed, choosing the chair near her crowded desk. He could not help but notice a familiar stamp on an open book, the library stamp. He decided not to comment on it, but he was curious, she was a remarkable sight, he would remember checking books for her.

You - target

Armin left shortly after drinking his tea, muttering a shy ‘thank you’ and quietly opening the door. You did not hear anything coming from his side of the wall, which meant he either slept peacefully or spent the rest of the night awake. The little kitten meowed again, ears picking up something that you did not. He jumped off the bed, sitting near the wall your apartment shared with Armin’s.

“It’s okay” you reassured, feeling tired and sad “nothing bad will happen to him, I made sure of that”

The kitten did not move, forsaking the warmth of the bed. You tried to have some sleep, but thoughts of a blond young man kept you awake for hours. Since your arrival to that town, you had never spoken to him much outside of hellos and good mornings, but it was enough for you to notice the aura of depression. Armin was surrounded by sadness and painful memories, even if he was good at hiding it.

When morning came, you woke up to the familiar opening and closing of Armin’s door, it had become your personal alarm clock at that point. Slightly opening your window curtains, you saw as the blond man left the building in a fast pace, probably chasing warmth to contrast with the cold air.

“There he goes” you said to nobody in particular “perhaps I should pay the library a visit sometime”

Armin - Channels

Sometimes Armin thought he had struck gold - at least in some aspects of life. Despite his nonexistent social circle and family issues, he at least had a stable job that he enjoyed. Armin had been working for over a year there, taking the position of the old librarian. It was a calm workplace, only the operational manager and the cleaning lady besides Armin. He could read books in between customers without being scolded, had a small kitchen and room that he could use whenever he wanted. No more noisy and crowded places, abusive bosses or frenetic customer service. 

Armin was, in some aspects, a lucky man. 

“I see you on thursday, Arlert!” said old manager “give me a call if you need anything”

“Of course, sir. Have a good day”

Armin was finally finishing the book, the final chapter done by the time his manager left the parking lot. The blond librarian stood up, sighed deeply and finally put the book back on its shelf. The ending was sad, quite tragic. He did not enjoy processing it while working, but that was a small disadvantage. 

“Good morning” a voice echoed through the library, startling Armin.

Armin quickly ran to the front desk and refrained from expressing surprise as he saw his neighbor there. She was clutching the handle of her bag, looking around the library uneasy.

“Good morning” he blurted “How may I help you?”

She was dressed elegantly, but still casual enough. Between her fingers was a small sheet of paper.

“Yes, I was looking for this book” she said, handing him the paper.

The beasts of the Amazon 

What an odd book to search for. He looked at the paper and the woman in front of him. Now that he could see her without the shade of his nightmare, Armin noticed that she was probably his age, she had very beautiful features and her eyes were observant. Whatever she wanted with a bestiary Armin would never guess properly, but people’s curiosities were none of his business.  

“I am not sure if we have this, but I’ll check for you. It might take a while, would you like a cup of coffee or some water?”

“No problem, I am not in a hurry. And the water is fine” she said. 

He went to the small room again and took a sealed water plastic bottle. She was sitting in a nearby armchair when Armin returned. As soon as his fingers brushed on hers, he felt a strange stinging sensation, as if he was shocked, it was not a painful sting but it startled him enough to drop the water bottle.

“I’m sorry, miss” he nervously said.

“It’s alright” she reassured him, retrieving the bottle from the floor “my hands are cold”

“It could be static too” he said “either way, I am sorry”

She waved her hands, asking him not to worry, but he could see her fingers trembling. He nodded, his face was still warm from the embarrassment. She was a very beautiful woman, and he was being a complete fool in front of her once again.

She must think I’m a disaster. He thought while searching for her book in the inventory, the computer taking ages to load the pages. He discreetly glanced at her from time to time, trying to comprehend their interaction a few days ago and her presence in the library. He had never seen her come to the library but he still remembered the books she had on her table, all of them had his stamp. Armin’s curiosity was eating him alive.

You - Channels

Your hand still stung where you touched him, but the images and sensations lasted even longer. It was overwhelming, not enough for you to see much, but Armin exhaled pain and fear, images of dark lit rooms and a young child crying filling your mind. You had to breathe deeply a few times, separate his feelings from yours, but it was not enough to ease your heart. Standing up, something urged you to walk between the bookshelves, your eyes were closed and your fingers danced along the book spines. 

You felt the need to stop, your eyes opened.

The midnight palace

The book was small and thin, with a beautiful cover. Your fingers were on the verge of touching it, but you knew better. Taking a glove from your purse and putting it on, you took the book from the shelf. It was full of his energy, he had probably read it recently and it would explain why you were drawn to it. You had to take it home. 

“ma’am?” Armin’s voice called. 

You quickly returned. He was standing behind the front desk, empty handed. You already knew he would not find the book, it was not in the inventory.

“I am afraid we don’t have it” he said.

You nodded, the thin book heavy on your gloved hand. Observing Armin, you felt this familiar sudden urge to cry and lay on the bed forever. 

“I know” you replied “but there’s no harm in asking, right?”

Armin was beyond confused and you almost smiled in amusement, but his tired eyes and sunken frame made you stop. He was drained, vitality lost somewhere. Would he accept your help if you offered? You feared he would fade away. 

“I might borrow this one” you said and handed him the book, making sure to not touch him this time.

You tried to keep your face neutral, as if your book of choice was a complete coincidence. Armin’s face betrayed him, blond brows frowning and eyes quickly darting between you and the book. He shook his head, as if trying to regain some sense.

“Alright ma’am” he said, entering the code “do you have a card?”

“I am quite new here, I did not have the opportunity to make one” you said.

Armin quickly offered to make one, asking a few questions regarding your identity. You watched as he filled up your information and stamped the card with the library’s symbol, putting the small square in a plastic case. His actions were skilled and used to the motions. Soon enough, he handed you the card. 

“All done and book checked in, how many days you’d like to keep it?”

“A week” you said “I have a busy schedule”

He nodded, finishing the protocol and handing you the book. Inquiring blue eyes lingering on you for longer than a librarian should.

Armin - Inquiring

He was not able to concentrate the entire day. All he could think about was how odd his encounter with his neighbor was. She seemed uneasy at first, then the strange shock between their fingers and, finally, she borrowed a book he had just read. Armin was not stupid, coincidences happen all the time, but Armin had his fair share of ‘non-coincidental’ happenings. 

Armin was suspicious, but he did not know why. 

He was trying to make sense of their interactions. She had invited Armin- a complete stranger - into her home for tea. She knew his name, and he had never spoken to her, he did not even know her name.  

“Good evening, boy” said the night guard.

Armin returned the greeting. The night guard was an older man, maybe entering his 50s, he had worked in the security of the complex since way before Armin moved in three years ago.

A question would not hurt, right?

“Sir, May I ask you a question?” Armin could not help himself.

The man nodded, his features were surprised that the recluse man from 207 spoke something other than greetings.

“Do you know my neighbor? The woman from 208”

The night guard was nervous all of a sudden, Armin felt even more uneasy.

“Why do you ask?”

Armin felt his face burn. He knew he would sound creepy.

“I was just wondering if she lived alone, I heard some noises a few days ago”

“I’m sorry” he said, shoulders rising and falling “All I know is that she is new in town and lives in Mr. Zinitra’s old apartment, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing her living situation” 

Mr. Zinitra. The strange man with the strange books, at least they had that in common. Armin nodded, he chose not to inquire much and proceeded to go home. 

You - second reading

“Remember” you said “basil and boldo bath, every Friday, from head to toe, remember to say the words I taught you”

The young woman nodded, kissing your hands.

“Thank you so much” she said “You’ve done wonders for all of us, send our regards to your husband”

You almost threw up but returned her smile. You had a strong headache forming and your shoulders were tense. 

“That was horrible!” Gael yelled as soon as you entered the car “I could feel ghostly spiders all over me”

“She sent her regards to my husband” you almost threw up again.

Your friend scoffed.

“First, ew. I am almost twice your age” he replied “Also, she can keep her regards. Everything coming from her is going to make me even more sick”

You smiled at his distaste, but he was right. That poor woman had so many people waiting for her downfall that being ill in her presence was inevitable.

“Are you sure you wanna go home?” he asked “You don’t seem well, Lia is a nurse, you know?”

“I don’t like leaving Tino alone” you replied.

“You can bring him, she would not mind the kitten”

“Thank you, Gael, but I really need to be home tonight. Intuition”

He did not insist, but you knew he was worried. Fatherhood had extended from his little boy to you. 

“There, you’re home” he said “I’m just a call away”

You nodded and watched as he left. You greeted the night guard as you headed to the apartment. Upon arriving at the hall, you noticed Armin sitting on a chair, right outside his wide open door. He was admiring the dark night, watching the treeline a few meters away from their building, the lights on his apartment were on, bathing the hall in a white hue. 

“Good evening” you greeted.

Armin snapped from his trance, focusing his eyes on you.

“Good evening” he said quietly.

He was holding a book, marking the page with his fingers.

“Middle of the night readings?” you asked.

“Uh” he said, looking down at the book “It distracts me”

Maybe he had another nightmare, but you refrained from asking him. Your hands instinctively went to the book in your bag, where his essence was clinging into it. Though his presence was already enough to set your nerves on fire, the overwhelming sadness knocking on your brain. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out

“Are you well?” he asked “you seem...ill”

You smiled bitterly, the headache was already setting in your brain. 

“I’m fine, I’ll take some medicine. Thank you for asking”

Armin was silent for a few minutes and you made no motion to walk past him. Instead, you set your eyes on the treeline Armin was watching a few moments ago.

“I’ll be here if you need anything” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile.

You nodded, walking past him and entering your apartment. Unfortunately, you were slow enough that Tino sprinted out the door.

“Tino” you scolded. 

You dropped your bag and prepared yourself to chase after an energetic and vengeful kitten, but Armin was already holding the little one in his hands.

“He is a little runner” Armin smiled at the small cat in his arms “go back home, Tino”

You took the animal from Armin, careful not to brush your fingers in his. Once was enough for the day. 

“Thank you, Armin”

Armin - tormented

He spent the rest of the night reading outside. No noise came through her door, and he half wished you would join him. Armin was used to being lonely, but deep inside his mind he yearned for companionship, and there was something about his few interactions with the woman next door that left him wanting to talk over a warm cup of tea. 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

He huffed again, closing the book in his hands and giving up. The night was extremely dark, only the lights from his home illuminating the dark hall. He had picked up the habit of reading in the hall in the last few days, the change in environment distracting his mind from the bed he was dreading to sleep in. The hammock inside his room became his permanent sleeping arrangement since the nightmares had turned worse with every passing night. He did not know why, but sleeping in a different place and reading outside until exhaustion was his only chance at some peace.

“Faces. Voices. Cries. Stupid boy with stupid lies” 

He was supposed to feel better. He had done everything. He ran from the beacon of his fears and traumas, he left everyone behind, he seeked medical help, took all the pills and never missed a therapy session.

Yet he was still broken. Deficient. 

You - connection

Sundays were your resting day. You worked six days a week, between readings, consultations, cleansing, sometimes even fighting for your life if a particular hex or entity was strong. It was an odd job and life, but you enjoyed it. Sundays were the days you would dedicate to your own cleansing, and also Tino’s. 

“Come on” you pleaded “it’s not that horrible”

You were burning onion peels and cinnamon, reciting your words. Tino was not pleased with the smoke.

“You’re supposed to filer evil things, this benefits you” you argued with the cat. 

Outside, you heard what seemed to be Armin opening his door. The window next to your door was open, only the nylon screen protecting the kitten from the outside world, and soon Armin’s head appeared there.

“Good morning, ma’am” 

“Oh, Hello, Mr. Arlert” you enthusiastically said.

Armin watched as you were swinging the censer inside your apartment.

“So that’s where the sunday morning burnt smell comes from” 

“Does it bother you?” you asked, feeling nervous. 

“Not really” he said “It’s not a bad smell, I just felt a little paranoid the first few times. Thought it was a fire or gas leaking”

You were relieved, you really did not want to resort to incenses, they were not nearly as powerful as smoking your space.

“Sorry, Arlert. I should have warned you, but…not everyone is open about what I do”

Armin did not seem to understand your words fully, his eyes were still curiously watching your censer. He rested his arms on the ledge of your window, being mindful of your pepper and rue plants. 

“What does it do?” he asked “the smoke”

“It wards off bad things” you simply explained, trying not to use words that might scare him.

“And does it…work?”

“It does, but it’s a constant thing. Like showering or brushing teeth” you continued. 

Armin seemed to think for a while. The situation was a little awkward, you were still inside your house and he was looking at you from the outside, through a screen window. 

“Could you perhaps teach me how to do it?” he shyly asked.

Your heart almost stopped. He was asking for help, even if he seemed reluctant. You kept a friendly expression.

“Of course”

Armin - caught

“Good morning Mr. ZInitra” Armin greeted the man.

“Armin” he greeted back, carefully giving the blonde a small pile of books “here, all of them on time. I hope’

Armin entered each code with his library registry.

“All good, sir. Will you check anything else?” 

“No, not today, but may I ask you a favor?” 

Armin nodded, trying not to show surprise. 

“I have some fliers from the university regarding important events. Would you mind if I put some in the library’s mural? We’ve been trying to reach the community to participate”

“Of course, do you want me to do it?” Armin offered.

“If it’s not a in issue, it would be very nice of you since I am a little late for my lectures”

He opened his briefcase and passed Armin a few fliers, putting them carefully on Armin’s table.

“Thank you very much, Arlert” 

The man disappeared as fast as he entered, only a few seconds until his car roared alive and left. Armin chuckled a little, what a strange man. Deciding to take the task out of his hands, the blonde took the fliers with the intention of hanging them on the mural, almost missing the small paper that slipped and fell at his feet. Upon inspecting what seemed to be a business card, he noticed something odd. 

Psychic 

Consultations, readings, cleansings

telephone number: (36) 175558

Address: Marigold street, 56, Rose complex, apartment 208

208. That was his neighbor’s home. He read the small text hundreds of times, afraid his brain might be deceiving him. Mister Zinitra left that, was he the psychic by any chance? It was his apartment after all, although Armin had never seen the man there in all these years the blonde lived there. 

Was it her? 

She was a little…eccentric. Not in a bad way, but their last interaction was proof that the woman had some practices Armin had never seen before. And she did know him by name, borrowed the exact same book he was reading barely minutes ago, arrived home at ungodly hours. It was not far-fetched to theorize that she was a psychic. 

Armin wondered if he needed antipsychotics, but decided to do something worse.

You - tormented

The book was sitting on your table, with you staring at it incessantly. 

“It’s just a book. Just a book” 

You were hesitant, for some unknown reason. You had dealt with worse situations, but there was something about reading into Armin that left you nervous. 

“Now or never” you said, finally grasping your fingers on the cover. 

You could feel the same depression and agony as before, a hint of his feelings while reading the book, some voices saying horrible things.

"stop it!"

"there is nothing here, nothing!"

"you’re a man, Armin, stop crying!"

"little freak afraid of the dark, little freak afraid of the dark"

You took your hands off, eyes closed tightly. Oh, poor Armin. You did not need to see much to understand what had happened, why he was a runner, why the constant persecution of depression. The man was a tormented child, fears shut down in front of disbelief. A lonely child dealing with sight beyond the average. You were about to pick up the book again, maybe try to read more into his feelings, but a knock interrupted.

“Just a moment” 

Armin - third reading

His palms were sweating. He had no idea why the sudden urge to talk to her, but it was too late to retreat.

“Just a moment” a muffled voice said inside. 

It took a few minutes until she opened the door, the kitten in her arms. 

“Oh” she said “Hi, Armin”

The blond did not say anything, just kept watching her and the little cat. 

“Is there anything you need?” she asked, brows expressing confusion.

Why was he there? Why?

“uh” he pathetically said “uhm, I-this-uh”

He sighed deeply, wishing he could restart his brain, or maybe his entire existence. 

“Deep breaths” she said “is anything wrong?”

“No, no” he blurted “uh, may I speak with you?” 

“Of course”

She motioned for him to enter her home - again, the woman had some self preservation issues. The apartment was the same as last time, but with the addition of some random toys on the ground.

“Sorry about the mess, this little kitten is a handful”

“No worries, I had a few cats as a kid, I get it” Armin replied. 

She finally put the kitten on the ground after closing the door, the small white creature quickly jumping on the bed to rest. 

“Tea?” she offered, but Armin declined “So, you wanted to speak”

Armin tried to breathe deeply. He could do this. Taking the card from his breast pocket, he finally spoke.

“A regular came into the library and dropped this, it is your address”

She took the small square in between her fingers, to which Armin stared at the soft skin for a little too long. 

“It’s…mine?” she simply admitted “a regular, you say?”

“Mister Zinitra”

Her face was not easy to read, but Armin could almost see a hint of annoyance cross her beautiful features. 

“Of course” she whispered.

Now or never, Armin. 

You - third reading

You were far from a regular person, your abilities were proof of that. Who were you to judge somebody’s actions? 

But Armin was a strangely stunted man, almost amusingly so. 

He sat there, in the only chair of your room, with the purpose of returning a business card that you were not even aware existed until that point. Gael had a lot of explanations to do. 

“Is it true?” Armin asked “what says on the card”

You nodded, trying to remain calm. He was a runner, and the last thing you wanted was for him to actually run. You had to play safe, make him feel safe. 

“Well” you started “I know this is difficult to believe, but..yes”

Armin was still very quiet, or perhaps that was his entire personality, and you were visualizing him sprinting through your door. 

“You knew my name” he affirmed.

“Of course I did” you chuckled.

“Is it because you’re...you know” he said, face  slightly uneasy.

You decided to tease him, putting a serious face and leaning as if you were going to tell him a secret.

“A psychic?” you whispered.

Armin’s eyes were so focused on yours, waiting for the answer, that you felt shivers. His blue eyes glowing under the full moon light, his blond hair like liquid silver. You wanted to drag that moment, admire his beauty for longer, but your serious face cracked and you laughed a little too loud.

“Your post office box is right beside mine, Arlert” you replied.

Armin stared at you for agonizing minutes, until he burst out laughing.

Armin - further

The weeks passed in a blur, but Armin felt less miserable than before. His nightmares were less intense and he could even sleep in his bed. The medication started to make his panic attacks less violent, his depression less debilitating. He felt lighter. His neighbor - he finally knew her name - taught him many other things he could do to clean his space. She had given him a censer, along with some dried leaves, and she would often offer him strange herbal teas in two liter bottles. 

“It’s for bathing, not drinking” she had said “you pour this all over your body, after showering and cleaning yourself thoroughly, and let it air dry”

He felt stupid while doing it alone in his bathroom because, deep inside his heart, he wanted to say that everything was stupid, that it did not work. That psychic woman could be a scammer, but she never once charged him for anything, it seemed that she was helping from the kindness of her heart. He did not want to believe it. Believe that someone was doing something for him, actually trying to protect and not…make him stop.

“Did you finish the book?” he asked once she entered the library.

“Yes, it was heartbreaking” she commented “you could have said something”

“Can’t you foresee if the book is going to be sad just by touching it?” Armin joked slightly.

She narrowed her eyes, but he could see the amusement in them.

“That’s not how it works, Arlert!” 

“But it works if you want to stalk what I was reading then” he replied back. 

She rolled her eyes, probably not impressed with him teasing her about how non coincidental it was the choice to read the midnight palace. He was quite terrified when she told him about that occasion, but it made sense when he remembered the odd behaviors of that encounter. It took Armin a while to be used to her abilities, or at least what she allowed him to know. 

“Arlert, just check the book” she smiled. 

He took the small book from her hands, this time the brushing of fingers did not cause any shock. 

“Can I ask you something, mister librarian?”

“Go ahead?” he said, still focusing on adjusting the book status in the system. 

“Join me for dinner?” 

The poor blond froze, looking at the computer screen. He abruptly straightened his posture, looking everywhere but her face. Why? For what reason? Was it a date? Did she like him like that (he had a little bit of a crush, just a little).

“Uh-I”

“You can say no, Armin. I won’t be upset-”

“No no- I mean” he sighed deeply “Yes, dinner is good. Yes”

He was so pathetic, of course he had to stutter.

“Can you choose the place? I am still new to the town” 

He nodded, still having trouble focusing his eyes on hers. Despite his nervousness, his heart was warm and his face even warmer. 

“I know a place” he confirmed.

Do you like history, folklore, archeology and mythology? Please consider following my side blog @thehistorianrants I'll be more than happy to interact with all of you! Kisses

Finally, I was able to post this! Unfortunately I was not able to post this on October due to many problems in my personal life, I've been struggling really hard and I am hoping that fanfic and my history rants can help restore my health. Thank for the people who are always here, supporting my content.

[cinlat]

Blood in the Breeze: Ch 16 (Into the Void)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Fynta and Aric still have some things to work through. Verin offers some brotherly advice (and violence). And the council, once again, regrets every decision that led them to where they are.

Chapter Word Count: 3,402 Chapter Rating: T Characters in Chapter: Fynta Wolfe, Aric Jorgan, Theron Shan, Zolah Holran, Lana Beniko, Shillet Jorgan, Verin Ejnar-Wolfe

Author’s Note: Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

  The Thunderclap   Leaving Nathema

 Aric glared at the gleaming box on the edge of his desk. Strange that such a menacing device could look so innocuous when Aric picked it up. He didn’t know why he’d pilfered the holocron, or what he planned to do with it, only that it felt important. An idea niggled at the back of Aric’s mind, roosting there until it could reach maturity.

 “Did you hear me?” Aric leaned back in a desk chair that might as well have a permanent impression of his ass. Shillet waited on the other side of his comm, black eyes glaring into the camera. He saw the accusation. Aric had interrupted whatever she’d been working on, but couldn’t be bothered to keep his attention on the conversation he’d started.

 Scooping the datacron into a drawer, Aric gave his daughter an apologetic nod. “Sorry, kiddo, what was that?”

 The teenager in question rolled her eyes, then went back to painting her toenails. Shillet had grown into a woman overnight, filling out in ways that made Aric uncomfortable with so many young men on the base. She’d also taken to wearing makeup and doing things like painting her nails. Not for the first time, Jorgan wondered if there was a boy involved, but he was too much of a coward to ask. Maybe he’d comm Elara to see if she knew anything.

 “I said ‘how did it go?’” Shillet leaned forward to blow on the wet paint. “You weren’t out of contact as long as I expected.”

 Was that disappointment that Aric heard in his daughter’s voice? “Missed the target,” his gaze slid towards the drawer, “made some interesting discoveries, though.”

 “That’s good, then, right?” Shillet screwed the cap on and fanned one hand over her feet. “It’s better than nothing, at least.”

 Aric started to answer that he didn’t know. That he might have found a weapon or a shield, but wasn’t sure which way to wield it or who to tell. Fynta had wanted to blow the thing up, so she probably wouldn’t approve of him removing it from the vault. All Aric knew was that it was important.  

 “And I’ve lost you again.” Shillet sighed.

 “I’m still here,” Aric grumbled, then sat straight when the door to their room opened and Fynta swept in. “So is Fynta.”

The woman waved, then tapped the side of her head to let Aric know that she was on another call. She’d been in near continuous contact with Odessen discussing what had been discovered on Nathema. Everything from Vaylin’s tortured childhood and the strange absence of the Force, to the world shaking dread that came with realizing that Vaylin’s full potential had been unlocked.

 “We need those numbers, Theron.” Fynta ended the call, then learned over with a grin. “You look nice. Any particular reason?”

 Jorgan clenched his jaw to keep from growling and tried to be invisible for fear that Shillet wouldn’t answer if he drew attention to himself. Shillet flushed a deeper shade of green, and Jorgan saw red. He didn’t need this added stress on top of everything else and contemplated finding a reason to ground the girl until he got home. He’d      definitely     need to speak to Elara.

 Fynta slid into Jorgan’s lap, looping one arm around his neck while he sorted through the boys Shillet’s age on base. “How was the movie?”

 “It was fine, stupid actually.” Shillet crossed the room to put her supplies away, calling out to the comm she’d left behind. “I thought I might help unload the ships. A bunch of kids work there on the weekends for school passes.”

     What’s his name,    lingered at the back of Jorgan’s throat, but Fynta answered instead. “Take Tranx and Zula. Those two have been going stir crazy.” Fynta’s smirk turned devious. “I think Torian does some maintenance there too.”

 “Torian,” Jorgan heard himself say before he could stop it. A sense of relief washed over him at the knowledge that Shillet’s crush was on a man who would never take advantage of her. Not to mention, the Mandalorian chief was head over heels for Fynta’s pet Jedi. Once more, Jorgan was struck by the startling realization that he trusted Mandalorians with his most precious people than anyone else.

 Fynta carried on without acknowledging Jorgan, but Shillet dropped her head enough that a couple of tendrils fell across her face. “Listen, if it’s a boy’s attention you’re after, you’ve got to show them that you’re serious.” Fynta nudged Jorgan with a grin. “Blow something up.”

 Jorgan stood, dropping Fynta onto the floor from her perch on his thighs. She laughed, and Shillet did her best to hide a smile. Jorgan ignored them both. “On that note, please don’t take dating advice from Fynta.” He avoided any mention of motherhood. Neither woman took the insinuation well, and he didn’t want to upset the comfortable rhythm that they’d found.

 Fynta cupped her hands to her mouth, amplifying her voice while still sitting on the floor. “It worked on your father.”

 “Okay.” Shillet dragged the word out and leaned forward. “I’m going to go eat dinner. See you when you get home.”

 The call ended, and Fynta met Jorgan’s glare with a bright smile. “What? She knows that I was kidding.”

 “Does she?” Jorgan held out one hand, pulling Fynta upright with a grunt. “What if she believed you?”

 “It was a joke, Riduur.” Fynta patted Jorgan’s cheek and stepped away. “She’s practically an adult,      and    you and Elara raised her well. Give the girl some breathing room.”

 Jorgan clenched his fists and followed, looming so that Fynta knew that he was serious. “She’s thirteen, that’s not an adult.”

 “It is by my standards.” Fynta turned to open one of the drawers and began counting ammo magazines.

 Jorgan hadn’t intended to lash out, but before he understood his own actions, his fingers were wrapped around Fynta’s bicep, and she stared wide-eyed into his face. “Shillet isn’t Mandalorian.”

 Jorgan knew the growled words hurt. He wanted to regret them, but he couldn’t. Still, he should have chosen a better way to say them. “Fynta—”

 “You’re right,” Fynta interrupted, placing her hand over his. Jorgan’s fingers loosened under the unspoken threat. He hadn’t gripped her hard, but Fynta wouldn’t tolerate being handled in such a manner, nor should she.

 Lifting his hands, Jorgan let go of his wife and stepped away. “I’m sorry.”

 “I will never push anything you are uncomfortable with.” Fynta touched Jorgan’s cheek again, but it was fleeting. “She’s      your     daughter.” And like that, the familial moment shattered.

 Fynta put space between them, and Jorgan didn’t feel right about closing it yet. With a sigh, he plopped onto the bed and ran a hand over his head.  “I don’t want to fuck this up anymore than I already have.” He chanced a glance at Fynta, waiting until she met his eyes. “Any of it.”

 Fynta dropped the magazine she’d checked back into the box, then knelt in front of Jorgan. “You and I, we’re always good.” She pressed a quick kiss to Jorgan’s lips. “And, Shillet is a great kid.”

 Again, Fynta pulled away before Jorgan could reply. Her nails scraped over his scalp as she headed for the door, towards her escape. “I’m going to check on Verin, he took a nasty knock to the head. See you in a bit.”

 “I’ll be here,” Jorgan answered, but his wife was already gone. With a snarl, Jorgan flopped onto the bed and glared at the ceiling. With everything he cared for close by, why did Jorgan still feel like his world was falling apart?

The Thunderclap En Route to Odessen Conference Room    “How about a drink, Fyn’ika?” Verin pressed his palms into the table across from where Fynta stared through a holomap. She was parsecs away, lost in a way he’d seen before. She blinked, focusing on him through whatever thoughts occupied her attention. Verin flashed a crooked grin and lifted a couple of dark bottles. “Come on, vod’ika. I smuggled in some netra’gal.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me that on the way      to    fighting the voidspawn?” Fynta leaned across the table to snatch one of the Mandalorian specialties and twisted the top off by brute force. “I could use a decent drink about now.”

 Spinning around one of the deck mounted chairs, Verin straddled the seat and watched his sister. “So, are you going to tell me what’s really going on, or do I have to drag it out of Jorgan?”

 Fynta lowered her drink and rubbed her eyes. “The old bastard is talking again.” She tapped her temple. “He’s scared of Vaylin, and was      not     happy about our trip to Nathema. And, I’ve got this headache from hell thanks to all of the Force suppression stuff. I can only imagine how Lana feels.”

 Verin propped his elbows on the chair back and settled in to let his sister talk herself in circles. Fynta didn’t disappoint. She spun her bottle in a lazy circle on the table. “I’d hoped that Arcann would join us, but he’s not confident in his ability to resist Nathema’s pull. Probably a good thing now that I’ve been there.” Without warning, Fynta thumped her head against the table. “And, Aric’s mad at me again.”

 “Why now?” Verin asked, taking another sip. He let the sweet liquid warm him from the inside, steeling his nerves for the tough conversation to come.

 “Mostly because I’m osik around kids.” Fynta gestured around the room without lifting her face from the table. Her words were muffled against the false wood polish. “It’s one of the rare moments when we can’t see eye to eye on anything.”

 “I’ve been meaning to ask how that was going?” Verin expected some hiccups while Fynta tried to find her place in Shillet’s life, but the pushback from Aric surprised him. Verin supposed some things couldn’t span the gaps between their cultures. That had never been a problem for them because they hadn’t planned on having children. The galaxy had a way of turning people’s plans inside out. Verin knew that better than most.

 When Fynta looked up, it was with a violent shake of her head. “No, we’re not doing that.” She chugged the netra’gal, then smacked her lips. “New topic.”

 “Okay.” Verin took a drink, dragging the silence out to let the annoyance drain from Fynta before continuing. “What’s happened since Darvannis?” She’d had the coveted lust for life then. She fought and loved and laughed. Perhaps she still did, but it sounded hollow.

 Fynta shrank into herself, knees curling against her chest and chin propped on them like when she was just a skinny kid. “You gave me Cinlat’s haalas gaid, armor that she lived and died in. Of everything learned from her time among Mandalorians, that was the only part that she truly loved.” Fynta offered a wry smile and tipped her head in Verin’s direction. “Apart from you.” The old sting of loss surfaced, but time had dulled the effect.

 Verin didn’t interrupt. He could see that Fynta was building to her point, but had taken the long way around. Letting out a breath, Fynta plopped her chin back on her knees and hugged them closer. Once again the little girl from that night so long ago when it became just the two of them against the galaxy.

 “I’m not Mando’ade anymore, Verin.” The words felt like a blow to his stomach. He wanted to argue or snort in disagreement, but made himself stay silent. If he spoke too soon, she’d shut down.

 “I’ve been thinking about it,” Fynta continued. “The Resol’nare is as close to a religion as we have. How many do I follow? Speaking the language, sure. Wearing the armor, I am now thanks to your gift. I’m bred to fight, but I won’t answer the call of the Mand’alor.” Fynta snorted. “Shab, she answers mine. And Shillet...I can’t force that decision on her. Not when her father is Cathar.”

 Verin nodded. “Have you two discussed it? Shillet, I mean.”

 Shaking her head, Fynta seemed to remember the beer in her hands and drained half the bottle in one pull. Sighing, she smacked her lips. “We’ve tiptoed around it, but Aric being her father doesn’t make me the girl’s mother. She’s got Elara for that. The woman raised that child. I’m...a friend. Shillet respects my authority and no longer believes that I’m a danger to Aric’s happiness, but it’s different.”

 Fynta shrugged, then drained the rest of the bottle. “I’m not a Republic soldier, not a Mandalorian, not a mother. What am I?”

 “You’ve forgotten the spirit of mandokarla. Life fluctuates, and we evolve. Are the ones who are forced into the ba'slan shev'la less Mando’ade than the ones who remain in society?”

 “No, but—” Fynta’s eyes narrowed when Verin snapped his fingers.

 Leaning back, Verin laced them behind his head and grinned. “You’re overthinking it. It’s not always all or nothing. We work with what we’re given.”

 Fynta sighed. “Yeah.” Verin leaned forward and smacked her on the back of the head. She snarled a curse while rubbing it. “What the hell?”

 “Enough pity. Time to get back into life, Fyn’ika.” Verin dodged her response with a laugh. “You’ve got a husband and a daughter. Whatever happens with them is up to you, but it won’t turn out well if you don’t get back into it.”

 Fynta snorted and muttered an insult under her breath, but her eyes weren’t dull anymore. She stood and checked her wrist chrono. “Shab, I’ve got another meeting. Thanks for the drink, ori’vod.” Verin nodded, lifting his bottle in salute while she headed towards the door. Fynta stopped, speaking without looking back. “Hang around for a bit, if you can.”

 “I get to sleep through the night here,” Verin chuckled and made a show of settling into the cushions, legs kicked out and feet on the table. “I’m not giving that up without a fight.”

 Odessen        War Room

 Images of broken tanks and derelict walls floated in the center of the table. The conference room was full to bursting, with senior members in the chairs while those who came in later positioned themselves around the walls. Fynta stood towards the back, having seen Nathema in person. Murmurs drifted through the air, but she had heard it all before.

 “The question now is what to do with this information.” Lana waved a hand, pausing the holo on the image of destruction left by Vaylin’s escape.

 “Is it relevant?” Zolah asked. The woman had her menagerie of men surrounding her, each wearing a furrowed brow specific to them. When every eye turned on the Chiss spy, she gestured at the image. “Whatever power that place had over Vaylin is broken. Does this information serve as anything beyond telling us that she is not only psychotic, but no longer leashed?”

 More murmurs. Fynta had theories, but she wasn’t ready to share them. Aric stood stiffly at her side, his fingers flexing around an invisible object. Fynta would need to look into whatever was troubling the Cathar later. For the moment, she counted down the time her presence was required before it would be rude to slip away.

 “You’ve been ignoring me.” Valkorion stood at Fynta’s side, startling a curse from her. The old Sith smiled in his demure way and nodded at the image. “Did you learn anything of…value?”

 For whatever reason, Valkorion had been unable to follow Fynta into the vault that protected her small party from Vaylin’s wrath. It had left her chilled, as if the ghost of Valkorion was a separate heat source instead of cold death. Fynta had learned plenty in those sprawling catacombs, and none of it surprised her.

 “Only that you’re as bad of a father as you are a benevolent ruler.” Fynta folded her arms and refused to look at him.

 Valkorion sighed while the meeting carried on around Fynta. She was surprised that the old bastard hadn’t stopped time again. “Vaylin needed to be controlled.”

 “She was your kid,” Fynta snapped. “As far as childhoods go, that was one of the shittiest I’ve ever seen., and I’ve seen some bad ones”

 “You aren’t considering a charity case, I hope.” It took Fynta a few seconds to realize that Lana’s barb was directed at her. When she glanced to her right, Valkorion was gone.

 Instead of trying to explain that Fynta hadn’t been talking to the collected group, she rolled with it. “Of course not. Mad dogs need to be put down.” Lana gave a quick jerk of her head, but Fynta wasn’t done. “Let’s keep in mind that this is a child who never grew up. Valkorion kept her chained in agony for years. It’s no wonder she went insane. Whatever our course of action, let’s make it quick and as clean as possible.” With that, Fynta pushed away from the wall and walked out. She was done with meetings and talking circles around a problem that none of them knew how to deal with.

 As expected, Aric fell into step at Fynta’s side. “You feeling sorry for her?”

 Fynta lifted a shoulder. “There’s not a lot standing in between Vaylin and any one of us ending up just like her. A push in the right direction, and we all go feral.”

 “Not everyone.” Aric bumped Fynta’s shoulder, and she forced a smile so that he’d know she appreciated his faith in her. Valkorion hummed in the recesses of Fynta’s mind. It felt like a fly buzzing around her head, the melody too quiet to pick out, but she      knew     it was there.

 Shillet waited at the door when Fynta and Aric got home. The smell of food hit Fynta’s stomach like a punch, but it was Aric who voiced their mingled surprise. “What’s all this?”

 “Dinner,” Shillet answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. Which, Fynta supposed it was. The Nautolan girl skipped to the table where an assortment of meats and vegetables that didn’t normally go together waited. She offered a wide, sharp grin. “These are the only things that I know how to make.”

 “It looks good,” Aric laughed while ruffling the girl’s head tresses. Fynta made a mental note to teach her a few Mandalorian staples to sneak into her father’s meals.

 The night carried on in companionable conversation. Fynta finally let herself relax long enough to invite Cormac, Tayl, and Elara over for a few drinks. The kids vanished into Shillet’s room, leaving the adults sitting around the table like old times. Fynta heaved a steadying breath and told herself that Vaylin could wait until tomorrow. Tonight was for family.

[da3dm]

Night Light 1.4

Two chapters in one day—two days to you bc I'm waiting til tmrw to post this! Fair warning, the perspective changes to someone else in this chapter! It isn't Axel or his friends!

TW: MORE blood/injuries! Slight dehumanization (calling someone "it") That's about it

Word Count: 5.3k

Chapter 4: Discovery

He sighed, leaning back in his office chair and glancing at the clock. Still only halfway through his day. That only made him groan and slump in his seat, eyes flicking back to the computer screen. His fingers tapped his desk and he propped his head up in his other hand, leaning against his elbow. Working for so many hours was exhausting…sure, he worked from home most of the time, but sitting still doing absolutely nothing was a bit too much for him. He was still waiting on that one email so he could actually get some work done. In other words, he was merely sitting staring at a blank screen. He'd only been doing this job for a year or so, but it was already way too annoying. Waiting around unable to complete it was so wasteful to him.

Except it was when the person he was waiting on went offline that he gave up. He left his computer on a blank screen and pushed away from the desk with a stretch. Time for a break, it seemed. Being sure it would remain on so he wouldn't be docked pay for being offline, he got up and pushed his chair in. Now what? He stood there in his utterly silent house, the only sounds being the soft ticking of his clock and the vents working faintly. Sometimes the silence of his house was comforting, other times it felt…empty. His family didn't visit very often so he was typically alone for months, only broken by needing to shop or being called in to work directly a few times. That didn't mean he wanted people around him though, he usually preferred the silence.

Giving a heavier sigh, one hand went to rub his neck and the other retrieved his phone, turning on notifications before shoving it in his pocket. There had been a pretty big weather warning alert on his phone in those notifications, so he was now turning to go check what he had. If he needed to go to the store, it was probably best to do so before that storm could hit. It was probably going to start tonight or tomorrow, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Having everything he needed would also mean he could avoid asking anyone for help or having to go out in the storm. The only problem with leaving was it he finally got the email while he happened to be out of the house, so he needed to be sure he'd notice if it was sent.

Heading into the kitchen, he went ahead and scanned through everything. He opened cupboards only to be disappointed with how little he actually had. When did he last go to the store? It was worth questioning, that much was for sure. He started tapping a finger against his leg anxiously as he switched to the supplies in his drawers next, finding even those empty. His fridge…he paused and stared at it for a few moments before giving in and stepping over to it, checking the inside and immediately recoiling from it. Empty, but where it wasn't, most food was rotting by now. Man, he really worried about himself. Just how little did he eat? The freezer was the only thing he didn't check since that generally stayed good for a long time. That and he only had ice in there as far as he was aware.

He grumbled to himself and left his kitchen, searching for his keys before glancing outside. Did he need a coat? It was a mix of fall and summer weather at this point, so it was probably a good idea. He grabbed on on his way out, but was already dreading the long drive into town. It usually took him several hours to get everything and come back home. Well, that's what he got for living in the middle of nowhere. This house meant quite a bit to him considering it's where he grew up. He loved the willow tree in the backward, the dark wood floors, and the sort of gentle lighting throughout the house. The forest itself was quite nice too, he just didn't go outside very often.

Stepping into his garage, he pushed the button to open the door while climbing into his truck, getting it started so he could back out. If it wasn't for the dirt roads he'd have a smaller car, this one wasn't the easiest to get in and out of the garage. Once he'd gotten it out, he began the busy struggle to get it turned back around so he could just leave his own driveway. It was a little dark for day, so he flicked on his headlights and started out of the driveway, carefully heading uphill after turning onto the road. It was pretty steep, but it was occasionally worth it since living on a dead end road kept people from messing with him. He didn't get any of those solicitors showing up trying to sell him things like his mom always complained about.

It took him about an hour before other people came into view—their homes, anyway. He automatically tensed regardless, made uneasy by the thought of other people in any way. Why couldn't he just order the food and have it brought to his car? The entire thing was such a huge hassle and only stressed him out. He'd been that way since he was young and so far…he had yet to find something that countered it or a better way to do it. It made him feel like the entire thing was a waste of time and almost had him turning his car right back around. Especially as another half hour passed and he began to see stores all over.

When he reached the supermarket he pulled into the half full parking lot, glad it at least wasn't congested there. After finding a spot to park he took a deep breath and stared at the store for a long few moments. He really didn't want to go inside, but eventually willed himself out of the car, locking it behind him as he trudged towards the building. He kept his head down while grabbing a kart and gathering what he needed. For the most part, he went around grabbing what he needed before what he might want. Even still, the kart became way too full by the time he was heading to check out. Whelp. His wallet was gonna feel some hurt today, but at least he could stay hidden at home for a while.

~ꕥ~

Whelp, he was drained. He had spent a few hours in town, with no notification from his job. Most of that time was him just trying to convince himself to go into the stores in the first place, but now he had a full tank of gas, lots of food—most of which was non-perishable considering what happened to his fridge. He was only a few minutes away from getting home and it was already getting dark out, clouds gathering in the sky steadily, but not quite a threat yet. A storm so slow to gather had the potential to flood, the clouds weighed down by too much water. That let him know he'd probably be trapped at his house. If it got too soaked his truck struggled to go up the hill to get out.

He managed to fit the car back in his garage and close the door, but now began the unloading. In the end while looking at everything, he just grabbed anything that couldn't be left out and went back inside, leaving the rest for tomorrow. It wasn't night quite yet, but he was mentally exhausted from interacting with so many people and watching his money just fall out of his pockets. When he got inside, he turned for the kitchen and put the small amount of perishables away while taking one of them and popping it in the microwave. At the same time, his phone went off with his work's ringtone and he groaned tiredly before fishing it out and answering. "Yes?"

The crackly voice carried through, "I’m calling about today’s assignment.” They sounded both serious and inquisitive.

He had to suppress a sigh as he leaned against the counter and watched the microwave. “What about it?” He kinda already knew it had to do with it not being turned in.

There was a moment of silence before they spoke again, “We never received the required information for your assignment. Expect it tomorrow morning. I want it done before the day is over, we are already low on time.”

He grimaced but gave them a more positive tone. “Alright, thanks for letting me know. I will complete it after I get it.” There was silence, then the phone beeped as they hung up on him. With a sigh, he leaned against the counter like a puddle and shook his head. They always did that, but it was fine…he could get it all set up pretty quickly. Besides, that meant he could play some video games when it was done. Part of his job was to test some of the planned programs so he could fix the mistakes in the systems. He pushed himself back up and wandered back to the fridge, grabbing some of the spoiled food and tossing it away. Wouldn't be good for it to spread to anything he’d just added.

He was interrupted halfway through by the microwave going off, calling him over to get his very plain tv dinner out. There were better options for a meal, but this was the easiest one he had readily on hand. At least it wasn't horrible. He set the hot tray on a plate, grabbed a cup of water, and went back to his office. After sitting down, he went about shutting things down and signed off from work while calmly eating. It didn’t take him too long, but he stayed there even after the screen went black, finishing his meal in silence rather than trying to carry it somewhere else again. Once his meal was gone, he downed the water and collected it all, throwing the tray away and placing the cup on the counter. No use putting it in the sink when it was only used for water.

He went ahead and checked the time before going to his room. It was dark out by now and he had a very busy day tomorrow. If he didn't go to sleep now, he wouldn't be able to get much done in the morning…he’d probably end up staying up kinda late to work on whatever game his assignment tomorrow wanted him to evaluate. He just needed to give the base coding then pass it on to others…he was only one of the beta testers. Either way, he proceeded to get to his room and wandered to the bed tiredly. Shopping was always too much, but then there was the added depressed feeling from being alone, no stimulation, and repeating the same tasks every day. Not to mention the fact that he now had to clean his fridge. Oh well…he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed how he was, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders and closing his eyes. That was a problem for tomorrow.

~ꕥ~

The morning was not much better. He woke up with a migraine, rain pounding his house as the wind howled around it, and his phone blowing up with messages. It wasn’t even noon yet. He was in the office, barely even alive and drinking some hot tea to keep himself awake while scrolling through endless lists of properties. He held a constant frown, trying to communicate and help edit the program enough for actual testing, but several people weren't responding or just telling him to do it instead. This was only made worse by some new leaks he found scattered his home. The thunder and lightning sometimes vibrated his house, the hum traveling through the entire building as his lights would flicker dangerously.

He couldn’t afford to lose power, not when he was right smack in the middle of arguing and editing for a game they’d been forced into doing at the last minute. What sucked even more was the fact that the information hadn’t even been sent when it was supposed to have been, shoving everyone into high panic mode as they struggled to get it going. He found himself absorbed in calls, typing, editing—in conclusion, all of it was hellish and only getting worse by the hour. Having to talk to so many people, of whom the majority wanted to shove their plate load of work onto him, was sapping all his energy. Every single second of this made him horribly thankful he’d gone to bed far earlier than normal…being swamped like he was right now wasn't very common, but it was still a nightmare and a half to deal with.

This problem stole most of his day, lasting until they finally got some supervisors on the phone to make the other ones do their work instead of pushing it aside like they were. With that part settled it finally started smoothing out and he was allowed a break, finally released from a job he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Since that was done, he leaned back and looked at the time, only to frown at it. How was it already the afternoon? This made him leave his desk, but only after turning up the volume so he would be notified if something else came up. He had a lot to do now that he had a chance for a break after all. Storms that caused damage couldn't just be left alone.

So he got to work. He made sure he had any leak he found taken care of, bowls set to catch the water while he worked on something to seal the leaks…sometimes you just couldn't, but he wanted to at least try. It was probably the roof. That’s hard to fix in the middle of a thunderstorm though. Well…it was beginning to calm slightly, but he knew that wouldn't last for very long. Other than fixing the roof though, he convinced himself to get to work on the fridge, gathering up anything that had expired. When that was taken care of, he worked on cleaning it. He tried not to spend too much time on it since he had to remove the contents to do so…it was never good to leave perishables on the counter for too long.

It wasn't too long before he found another message calling him back to his office, stopping with caring for his house to tend to it. He was kinda tired of cleaning anyway. Checking the message, it was his company sending out the game for beta testing. It would be absolutely horrible and there’d be practically nothing to the game yet, but…it was important to check if what they’d already put in operated correctly. He tapped his desk a few times before he sent the download to his gaming computer in his room, taking and signing off. He was pretty glad that they were allowed to end their day when sent a file like this one.

He numbly shut off his work computer and got back up yet again to lazily head to his room. It wasn’t the most pressing matter, he merely wanted to get out of having to keep cleaning things for the rest of the night. Doing that fridge was more than enough for right now. He sat in the much nicer chair and powered on the more advanced gaming computer with a faint smile. This seat and his entire game set was so much more comforting than everything else, but he hardly had time to use it anymore. The only chances came when he needed to test a game, very rarely on days off because of exhaustion.

Taking and getting the files downloaded, he went ahead and connected his headset and prepared a console controller so he could test both sides of it. He opened the game once it was done installing and rolled his eyes at the basic opening style and music. He wrote a note about it while it loaded open, but went back to paying attention when the start screen came up. The game, once started, had very boring adventuring music, poor graphics, and the controls were immediately off center. He scowled at the screen and didn’t hesitate to write it all down, but had no choice except to continue going through it as much as possible.

As he went through it, he froze up, feeling like he'd just heard a voice from somewhere. He frowned and turned the avatar around a few times for any npcs, but didn’t see anything so he went right back to it. He heard something similar again and searched one more time. Again, nothing. When he went to ignore it for the second time, thunder boomed outside, rattling his house and cutting his power. He stiffened and sunk into his chair with a strained groan, letting his head fall forward. That’s when he heard the voice…a third time, with the computer off. He fully froze up, listening much closer now.

That was very…wrong. Then it came again and he sat bolt upright, a bone-chilling desperation to that faint voice. It felt like his soul was being torn from his body as he launched to his feet, scanning his house for whatever it was. Doing that let him then hear some sort of muffled snarling and yipping from somewhere. He followed it. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he saw and rushed to his backdoor. His bedroom window led to the backyard, but he was terrified that if he pulled back the curtains something would be there to attack him. Well, that shouldn't have been his biggest worry when his chosen weapon was a slipper. Still, he moved as quietly as he could while staying on guard.

He opened the back door carefully as he peeked outside, scanning the yard and flinching when he noticed something moving. But it wasn't coming after him. Rather, it was just jumping, over and over, at what looked like a knot in his willow tree. Scooting outside, he could hear the desperate screaming much clearer and felt almost compelled forward, pulling his arm back and flinging his slipper at whatever animal that was. He hardly noticed he had bare feet when he hurried over the flooded ground, the water nearly reaching his ankles now. Somehow, the slipper clipped right off the animal’s head and it vanished, the night falling silent except for the falling rain.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, but it only took him a second before he moved forward, wondering what that strange glow was. The voice had stopped, but…what was that? When he stopped close enough to finally begin to see it, the tiny creature suddenly dropped like a rock. He panicked. “Woah!” His hands flung out, catching it in cupped palms. He breathed a sigh of relief and raised his hands closer to his face to try to see what it actually was. As the form focused in the low light he gasped quietly, his eyes going wide and all recognition of the storm leaving his mind completely and entirely. “What…?”

In his hands was some sort of frail creature. Thin, gossamer wings glowed dimly on the back of what looked like a very tiny person. He was in awe of it even existing, taking him some time to even begin to notice the problem. That was until he saw crimson running over his skin and pooling around the tiny person. There was a momentary lag in his mind before he immediately spun around and raced back inside, holding it carefully on his way through the rain. Once inside, he slammed the door shut with a wince at the volume and rushed to his bathroom so he could get some medical supplies. He didn’t know how much he could really help something this small, but just leaving it was even worse.

He gently set the being on the ceramic shelf of his sink, cringing when he saw how much blood smeared off of his hand when he did. Unsure what to do, he let out a panicked breath and reached up to open the mirrors to access his medicine. His eyes flicked over everything he had in a speed he hadn’t known for years. Pain pills? No—that was a horrible idea! He didn't know the dose and weight ratios, he could end up making it worse! It wasn’t like he could just drop everything and weigh them either! And didn’t some of those medicines only make bleeding even worse?? He brushed that aside with a half growl of frustration and quickly gathered some gauze and medical tape. At the last second, he also retrieved some tweezers.

Bending down to his task with hopefully the right supplies, he gently used one hand to touch them, finding it hard to tell if it was even breathing. Since it wasn't something he knew how to do on a body so small, he opted for using the tweezers and carefully removing the jacket. The shirt turned out to be some sort of tight vest thing, so he chose to just leave that behind. His attention turned to the feet as he cautiously tugged the shoes off next before gently undoing the banding at the bottom of the pants. It felt wrong to be doing this to someone unconscious, who clearly had some form of intelligence from having clothes alone, but it was necessary.

Once those were out of the way, he removed the bar of soap from the soap dish before setting the clothing on it, not wanting to risk losing them. His attention dropped back down to the injuries and he hesitated. Could he really do this? There wasn’t much choice. He grabbed a cloth and began to gently wipe the blood away, hoping to see where the actual wound was. When he found the worst one—a tear of sorts on one of the legs, placed right across the calf—he began applying some pressure with the small towel, hoping to at least slow the bleeding while he used another part of it to continue wiping away blood.

When no other serious injuries came up, mostly just scratches and bruises, he found himself filled with relief. He only had to fix one thing. Keeping that in mind, he decided to try and use his best efforts…but it was kinda hard in the dark. He fumbled for the light switch and found it, ever so thankful when it actually clicked on. That means he must simply have a flipped breaker, not a full on outage. He quickly returned to his ‘patient’ though, wondering if it was bad enough to risk having to sew it shut. There was a beat of silence before he slowly pulled the towel away and…nearly collapsed with relief when the bleeding wasn't as bad. It didn’t need to be sutured shut. Thank the heavens because his sewing skills left a lot to be desired.

Didn’t mean he could just stop though. So with a deep breath, he went back to using tweezers and grabbed some of the gauze. This was where he stopped, something registering that he was doing this wrong—gauze didn’t seal a wound, it wasn't supposed to be against it. That was up to a pad, but he only had wrap. Thinking faster than he expected, he reopened the cupboards and brought out the bandaids, finding one with a pad that matched the needed size before using the tweezers to pull the pad off. If a bandaid hurt on his skin in such a small amount, there was no way that it wouldn't if it covered the whole leg.

With that completed, he went ahead and got some medicine put on the bandaid before using one hand to hold the wound shut while the other gently put down the pad. The tiny person tensed, making him falter, but from what he could tell they were unconscious. Must hurt quite a bit then. Moving slowly and worrying if it was too much pressure, he started to wrap the gauze around the pad semi-tightly, his eyes never leaving what he was doing. So far so good, he kept a finger on the finished wrapping and grabbed the medical tape so he could snag some scissors from the cupboard and cut off a small piece. With that piece, he took and pinned the gauze together, taking care that it didn’t stick to the person’s skin.

The split second he was done and it didn't immediately fall apart, he sank to his knees and hung his head. Yikes. What even was this? He closed his eyes and took some time to settle himself back down before returning to his feet and staring at what looked like a small person. It was hard to wrap his head around the creature in front of him even existing. What if he woke up later to find he’d treated a dragonfly or mouse? That would be embarrassing. Except…it didn’t really feel like this was fake. Rather, it seemed more tangible than the likelihood of his team fixing that video game.

Oh well. He went ahead and gently scooped them back into a hand, raising them to the light and trying to focus on the tiny form. Holding his breath, he watched the chest intensely and waited. The moment the chest moved he sighed and brought his hand back down and close to his body. That was good. Meant it was breathing, right? He just nodded to himself and used one hand to lazily clean things for only a few seconds, mainly wanting to treat this thing some more. It was hard to tell if he’d actually helped anything or only made it worse, so he wanted to try practically everything he could…within limits and reason.

Carrying the tiny thing out of the bathroom, he paused in the hallway and debated where to put it. In the end, he leaned more for his room since he would likely be in there far more often. The trip there didn’t take too long and he found himself having to search for some form of bedding. There wasn't much in his room that was very helpful, and considering it was curled up in the fetal position shivering, it was soaked and hurting. That led him to just grabbing a pair of socks his mom had given him that he hadn’t even opened yet. They were more wooly and thick so it was perfect for what he currently wanted.

He scooted over to his computer desk and went to slip the tiny thing inside one of the socks, only for his eyes to catch sight of one wing…being cracked. It wasn't huge and it was at the end, but it looked like something that would make flying difficult. He bit his lip in thought before using one sock to somewhat dry it off some more before putting it inside the other one up to its shoulders. When it seemed to have been accomplished he placed the sock next to his keyboard and sat down, putting the other one gently over the top of it all. If it got too hot the second could just be pushed off, but he figured too hot was better than too cold when hurt.

Since it seemed settled in, he pulled out his phone since his room was still void of light except from the wings. Now that he thought of it, the wings glowing like they did was kinda bizarre and only generated more questions, but since none could be answered, he resumed googling information. First, he checked that he had followed first aid and was relieved that he’d been close enough to it to be fine. Then he started searching up care for small animals and…tiny winged people. The same word that had been floating around his mind from the start was introduced to him quickly—fairy. It was a fairy. But those don't exist.

Well…he said that but it was right in front of him. It had been bleeding out and he’d just taken care of it. Hard to say if he was imagining things or not, really. The other things caught his attention too though, most giving him irrelevant info until he got to housing. Right. Smaller creatures usually ran away from humans. He wrinkled his nose at the idea of any sort of cage though, even the suggestion of a box. This thing was more human than animal, that felt way too inhumane to him. Weren't there better ways to go about it? He didn’t want the fairy to try and fly or run off in its condition, but outright locking it up had to be the worst idea.

He mindlessly scanned his room for something that might work, then his eyes snagged on some dark red yarn. Oh. He had some yarn for when his sister would visit…but how could that be helpful? It took some thinking, but then he searched up the hardest knot to escape from as well as how to tie one. With that information he retrieved the yarn that had been just barely peeking out of a drawer and carefully slipped the fairy back out of the sock. Taking the free end, he tied it around the thinnest part of their body, not wanting them to be able to just slip out of it. When it was tight but still loose enough to move a little, he went ahead and returned the fairy to the sock bed he’d created a minute ago.

It took some maneuvering, but he got the knot to remain behind them and the string out of the way. Quickly after, he searched for something to tie the other end to. Tired and mentally stressed from today, his first thought was to tie it to the base of his computer. So he did. He made it long enough to reach the edge of the table before cutting it and getting it tied. There’s no way this would permanently stop the fairy, especially since if it had magic his efforts would mean absolutely nothing, but it could at least give him a chance to notice before the fairy ran. Although, that thought gave him an entirely separate idea that he almost lost from more thunder booming right above his house.

He glanced around for something that made some noise and got it tangled in the loose part of the string. It was just his tin pencil holder, but the pens would rattle around enough to be heard throughout his house from how silent it was here. Satisfied for now, he watched the fairy a little longer before getting himself ready for his own nap. He’d have some explaining to do about losing power and not contacting them, but…he had a strong feeling it was a bad idea to tell anyone t all about this little fairy. So he just lay in bed, rolled so he could still see the faint, comforting glow of those wings. He’d always hated the dark…and that light seemed almost magical to him. With a soft smile, he let his eyes close and got some rest.

—

End

This human has gotten himself stuck in wayyy more trouble than he bargained for!!

Name reveal? I think not!

<-#1 /Disappointments/

<- /Fault/ - /???/ ->

[alicechess]

The new nightguard (Yandere springtrap x f!reader) night 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: mention of blood, gore, cursing

Words: 4,485

Later that night the alarm that sat on top of your nightstand blared, scaring you awake. You sat up and looked around, but after a few moments you realised what it was. You cursed under your breath and slammed it off. You begrudgingly got out of bed, using your crutches to help you up. As quietly you could you made your way to bathroom to brush your teeth and go to the toilet. After spitting out your toothpaste you glanced in the mirror that sat above the sink. Large dark bags sat underneath your eyes, unsurprisingly your eyes were dull as well. The scratches that happened a few days before were scabbed over. 'At least they won't scar too bad.' You thought, trying to have some sort of hope.

Your hand trailed down to your neck, which was still sore from that night. The bruise wasn't too bad, however it still was noticeable. Purple and green bruises bloomed especially on the front part. Hopefully makeup will help later on when you need to go out in public. You placed your hands onto the sink, digging your nails into it. A slow dull pain forming in your fingertips. You hung your head low, tears slowly dripping down your face. Each tear that fell made you feel worse rather than better.

"Why do I even try anymore?" You croaked out quietly, trying not alert your parents.

Why do you even care about what they think? They were also apart of the reason your mental health was slowly degrading.

You wiped a few tears away as your vision started to blur. This exhaustion only became worse once you started this hell of a job. It was only the third night and you were dreading it. The continuous feeling of fear that followed you every second that you were in the building was tearing away at you. Just a few more days till you can get through it, right? You totally won't get kill by that monster of an animatronic. He won't randomly get his filthy hands around your neck and strangle you to death, or beat you till your nothing but a bloody pile of flesh. The thought of that made you flinch, a sick feeling filling your stomach.

And what's scarier is that you aren't even over exaggerating, it could genuinely happen. Even when you got home that fear followed you. The thoughts of whether he would find out where you live and kill you, but that one was a bit less likely to occur. He stops moving when it hits 6 am, but what if he somehow escapes the building while you're working? No, that's unlikely, right? If he really wanted to kill you it'd be much easier to do it while you're working.

You started to fidget more, tapping your fingers into the porcelain sink. You can't get out of this mess. You have to suffer through it.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. That stuff was meant to help, right? You slowly loosened your grip and stepped back, taking a few moments to try and calm down. Becoming hysterical won't help, it will just make everything worse. You were still under immense stress, but at least you could think a bit more clearer.

You walked away from the bathroom to your bedroom. Walking to your drawers, you pulled one open and wore the same outfit as yesterday. A dirty work shirt and a random pare of black tights. You picked out a clean pare of undergarments and slipped everything on. You felt disgusted in yourself for forgetting, but there was nothing you could do now. After glancing at the mirror in your room, the shirt obviously still had specks of dirt and ash on it. It made you feel filthy, but as you kept telling yourself, you can do it once you get home. That's if you do somehow survive.

Then you went over to your desk and picked up your bag. You did the same as yesterday, you went downstairs and put food and a bottle of water into the bag. Then ate some breakfast, even though it was night. It's better to at least have something so you can focus later on. You didn't know if you'd have time to eat during your shift.

After making sure you had everything, you made your way to the front door. You opened it and stepped outside, the cold winter air rushing at you. You shuddered and locked the door. You pulled your phone out and dialled the taxis number and told them your address. They responded and said that a taxi would be at your house in 10 minutes, which was a lot earlier than you expected. But you were grateful nonetheless.

You leaned against the brick wall of your home and stared at the night sky. It was filled with clouds, ranging from many different shades of grey. You wondered if it will rain today, or if there would even be a storm. You hoped it wouldn't happen, as it would make the whole night much scarier.

You shifted your focus back onto your phone and texted some people about random stuff. Ranging from memes to when you should meet up next. You wouldn't tell anyone else about this job, you didn't want anyone else to worry, or do the exact opposite and belittle you, telling you you're overexaggerating. The thought of that made you a little angry, people like that simply don't understand. They're too selfish and view the world in rose tinted glasses.

When you heard the taxi arrive you slowly pushed yourself off from the wall and headed over, checking the number plate. It was the same as what they told you, so you opened the door and got in. The driver greeted you with a smile, which was oddly comforting. You smiled back and said hello. He asked you what your destination was, to which you told him. "I'd like to be dropped of at Fazbears Fright, if that's okay." He nodded, his cheery demeanour dropping slightly. Did he not like something that you said? Although you were a bit worried, you shook it off.

Most of the drive was calm, the driver didn't speak much. He however occasionally glanced at the mirror to look at you, which you found a bit weird. But when he saw that you caught him, he simply focused back onto the road. Was there something on your face? Oh wait, the scratches. You shook your head and leaned back, of course someone would stare at that. Occasionally you went on your phone to play some games, it helped to pass the time quicker. After a few minutes, the man coughed, trying to get your attention. "Um, excuse me miss, if you don't mind me asking... What happened to your face? Are you alright?"

You were startled, wasn't that a little rude? But nonetheless you half lied, saying that you accidentally tripped a few days ago. You technically did trip, multiple times actually. But it was the result of a robotic bunny throwing you around like a toddler with a toy. The man glanced back at you through the mirror, he could tell you were lying, the way you stuttered definitely proved that. But he didn't say anything else and simply nodded his head. You went back to your phone and checked the time, 11:07. You looked through the window, the area seemed familiar. You should be there within the next 5 minutes. Within that time you simply watched as everything zipped by, it would be useful to at least get used to the surroundings in case you did have to run out of the building. The neighbourhood didn't seem to be rich nor poor, it looked to be middleclass. The homes looked like something out of a children's book, some even had the well known white picket fences. It was quite tidy, there wasn't much litter or graffiti. It did confuse you, however, why was your job located in a place like this? It definitely stood out like a sore thumb.

Regardless, when you saw the taxi pull up in front of your job you instantly felt your stomach drop. If only the drive was longer, or even better, if this place burnt down. But nonetheless, you thanked and paid the man. You grabbed your crutches and opened the car door and got out. You watched as the taxi drove off, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the night at this hell. You took a deep breath, you might as well get everything over and done with. The place was eerily silent, you only occasionally heard the chirps from the crickets, but even then that was rare. It was strange, normally the night is never this quiet. You slowly made your way to the rotting building, every step feeling heavier than the other. When you got to the front door you pulled out your keys and unlocked it, then swung it open. The musty smell hit you like a truck, making you cough. You stepped in and closed the door behind you, then went down the halls to the security office. It was still as filthy as yesterday, unsurprisingly. The office was the exact same as you left it, which was oddly comforting, at least no one would've tampered with anything. You never truly know what that bunny is planning.

While waiting for your job to start, you decided to look this place up online. You didn't see any reason not too, any information could become useful later on. Apparently there was a franchise related to this place, it first started off as Fredbears family diner, where a golden bear and a golden bunny used to sing and entertain kids. However it was later shutdown, and eventually a new place came a long. No reason was shown as why it was closed down, which you found bizarre. But after digging a bit into it, around that time a child went missing. Maybe it was connected?

Then someone else bought the diner, and called it Freddy Fazbear's' Pizzeria. From what you could see, it was a place that sold obviously pizza, and occasionally kids celebrated there birthdays there. While looking at the photos, the placed looked kind of nice. There were animatronics that sung and danced, four of them exact. Their names were Bonnie, Chica, Foxy and the main one, Freddy Fazbear. They looked creepy, but kind of cute. However when you went deeper into it's backstory, apparently there were five kids that went missing, which lead to an investigation. Eventually a man was found and convicted of the murders, which you found was exactly what the man deserved. You scrunched your face up in disgust, why would someone kill innocent children? What did they deserve to suffer in such a way? After searching for a while longer, you picked up some more information. Eventually the place shut down as a result of a horrible smell emanating throughout the pizzeria. On multiple occasions the place shut down and reopened, which you thought was weird, and suspicious. Why would a place repeatedly do that? Didn't the police catch on it? There were so many questions, and when some were answered, more simply arose. This place was hiding something, you knew it. It was so obvious.

Suddenly you heard the same mans voice, which startled you as you were so focused. However you shifted your attention to what the man was saying. While doing so you also shifted through the cameras to find Springtrap.

"Uh, hello, hello. Uh, for today's lesson, we will be continuing our training on proper suit-handling techniques. When using an animatronic as a suit, please ensure that the animatronic parts are tightly compressed and fastened by the spring locks located around the inside of the suit. It may take a few moments to position your head and torso between these parts in a manner where you can move and speak. Try not to nudge or press against any of the spring locks inside the suit. Do not touch the spring locks at any time. Do not breathe on the spring locks, as moisture may loosen them, and cause them to break loose. In the case of the spring-locks come loose while you are wearing the suit, please try to manoeuvre away from populated areas before bleeding out, as to not ruin the customers' experience. As always, if there is ever an emergency, please go to the designated safe room. Every location is built with one extra room that is not included in the digital map layout programmed in the animatronics or the security cameras. This room is hidden to customers, invisible to animatronics, and is always off-camera. As always, remember to smile; you are the face of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

"What the absolute fuck." You uttered out, why would you still have the suits if they could kill people?! You should've researched this place beforehand and stayed far away. They could care less if an employee died while on the job, as long as they died away from others and didn't get caught. 'Oh no, the poor business could get harmed. Let's just forget about the fact that someone could die a slow and painful death as a result of the companies stupidity..' You thought sarcastically, rolling your eyes. You hated this place with every part of you.

You still continued to flip through the cameras, trying to find that bunny. When you found him, he was surprisingly far away. Which was a good thing, nonetheless. You were actually a bit happy about it. He stood all the way in cam 10, simply staring around. Behind him was a Freddy poster, of which you found was quite cute. There wasn't much you could do, so you simply kept an eye on him until he decides to move. When he did start to walk to cam 9 you didn't panic, you could keep him cornered within those two areas.

You switched to cam 09 as you watched him slowly move down the hall. A smirk formed on your face as you pressed the audio button in cam 10. This will be his personal hell, you will make sure of it. He walked down back to the exit, merely peaking around the corner. He didn't seem surprised when no one was there, but he stood there for a few seconds, thinking of what to do next. He turned to the camera, tilting his head slightly. Then started walking down the halls again. It continued on for the next hour, you putting all your focus onto keeping him within that hall. Thankfully only a couple times you had to reboot the audio system and the camera. When that happened he did move closer to you, to about cam 07. But you always lured him back to cam 09.

Although things did go smoothly for a while, unfortunately you came across something while viewing cam 07. What stood there in the middle of the hall was a tall figure, what looked like to be a puppet of some sort. It didn't move, simply stared straight ahead. It was odd, and it made you incredibly uncomfortable. It was freakily thin, it's limbs stretched out to impossible lengths. How was this thing even standing up? You scrunched your face in confusion, then went closer to the screen. "How the..."

The siren suddenly went off, blaring throughout the room. This instantly snapped you out of your trance. The lights flashed red. Not long after it stood only a few inches from your face. You tried to stand up to get away but you couldn't, every time you looked away it followed. It was filthy, what seemed to be ash was splashed all over it. A loud static screech emanated from it, which was so painfully loud.

It made you nauseous, it slowly became hard to breathe. It felt as if every bit of oxygen was just sucked out of you. Every single horrible possibility flooded through your mind, repeating over and over again. You tried again to move, but your body just wouldn't let you. You shaked uncontrollablyy, yet you were paralyzed from fear. All you could do is watch as this creature stared at you, while you simply waited for the bitter end. But once you closed your eyes for a few seconds, it was gone. Was it just a figment of your imagination?

You just wanted to huddle in a corner and hide, this was becoming too much to handle. It took a few minutes for you to calm down, constantly reassuring yourself that everything will be okay. You sat there in the leather chair, holding your head in your hands. From the corner of your eye you saw on the maintenance panel that the ventilation system needed to be rebooted, 'of course it did.' You shakily moved your arm and pressed the button. After a few seconds the room fell silent, the flashing stopped. Taking a deep breath, you went back to the cams. After flipping through all the ones that viewed the halls, you realised he was in the vents. You flipped through all the vent cams until you reach vent 15.

"Of course he's in the closest one." You muttered, irritated and slighty nervous. It wasn't surprising, you didn't check on him for a while. This meant he had the chance to get closer.

You quickly pressed the button to seal the vent. He tried to reach out, but luckily he was too far away to stop it from closing. He tried to push it away, slamming onto the vent. But thankfully it didn't work. After a few moments he turned around and crawled out of the vents. You switched to cam 02 as that's the closest exit and saw him crawling from the vent behind the bonnie prop. He stood up and walked away to cam 01. You nearly slammed the camera screen with how fast you pressed the audio button for cam 02. He turned around then head to that area, he went behind the prop and looked into the shadow riddled parts. After waiting a few seconds for it to load you pressed it again in cam 03. You were going to lure him far away from you, as you couldn't risk getting hurt again.

He looked around to that area, but saw that nothing was there. You pressed it one more time, knowing that you'd have to reboot it once again. You hoped that he would walk away rather than come closer. You switched to the maintenance panel and rebooted the audio. You started to fidget again, tapping your nails onto the desk. "Come on, please hurry up..." You muttered out, practically begging for it to reboot quicker. Once it finished you checked cam 02, but he wasn't there. Then cam 03, 04, 05. You felt you heart drop when you realised he wasn't anywhere the cameras could see him.

From the corner of your eye you saw something move. You quickly looked up from the cameras but you couldn't see him anywhere. You knew what could happen, that you couldn't run. But you wanted take this once chance and pressed the audio button for cam 01.

When you saw the screen become static for a few seconds, then him suddenly appearing on the screen, you swear you've never felt so relieved. For the rest of the night your lured him around. He never got that close again, thankfully. Once he froze and didn't move at all, you realized it was 6 am.

You didn't want to be here any longer than you had too, so you grabbed your bag and slipped it on. You picked up your crutches and head out the room, however, out of stupid curiosity you wanted to look at the bunny. You moved down a couple halls, and when you came face to face with him, you didn't feel as much fear as you thought you would. You were nervous, but you knew he couldn't lay a hand on you. Not until it's 12 am at least.

When he beat you to near death you didn't focus too much on what he looked like, just simply on survivng. You did take note on how it looked oddly realistic, but now that you could check for sure... You looked closer and-

Those were actually organs. That was fucking blood. Your eyes widened in fear as you realised there was a fucking dead body in this thing. "What the absolute fuck, there's a- no, no fucking way." You stepped back and muttered out, "That must be fake, right?"

You gulped, you had to call your manager, there was no way they would fucking allow this happen if they knew. You pulled out your phone and dialled their number. After a few rings they picked up, "Hello? What's going on?" They asked, a bit annoyed.

"I think there's a dead body in the bunny animatronic. I looked closer and there- Oh my god, there's a fucking head in this thing." Behind the mask was what seemed to be a skull, muscle barely hanging onto the bone. You covered your mouth, trying to keep the bile from coming up.

"Oh it's nothing, it's just a fake. It's just a dummy that was stuffed in there to give it a more scary and realistic affect." He brushed you off.

"Are you sure? This doesn't seem right, it-it's eyes look like an actual persons-"

"Calm down, it's nothing. We found it in the backroom when we bought this place. If it were real, do you seriously think we would've kept it?" He interrupted, he thought you were simply overexxagerating.

You thought for a few moments, then stuttered out "N-no..."

"See? It's fine. I can't believe you actually thought it was real." He chuckled, then continued "You poor thing, I suppose this attraction really does scare people. Anyway, don't call me for such small things. I've got more important things to attend to." Then you heard a click, the call ended. Of course he'd do that. You rolled your eyes in annoyance and clenched your fists. 'What a shit boss, how does he seriously even work here?' You dropped your arm to your side, then glanced back at the animatronic.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Springtrap."

You of course didn't get a response, however, his eyes followed as you placed your phone back into your pocket. You took note of this, it's obvious that this thing was aware of it's surroundings, even after 6am. This thing creeped you out, but there's no way it's an actual person in there, right? You still felt as if this thing was a person, the way it moved, the way it spoke that day. It looks too realistic, it's eyes held the same emotions as person would.

You shook your head, you were simply a nightguard, that's it. You turned around and decided to see where this backroom was. You travelled down the halls, looking to see if there were any other rooms. You checked in even the darker parts of this place. From what you could see, there didn't seem to be any. Which was weird, why did he mention a backroom if there didn't seem to be any? Did they block it off?

You sighed, what a waste of time. You walked down back to the exit and left the building, making sure to lock the door behind you. Can't risk that thing escaping, just in case. You sat down on the ground, crutches next to you. You dialled the number for the taxi and told them where you were. 15 minutes until they're here, 15 minutes of suffering in the freezing cold air. While waiting the rain started to slowly pour down. Behind the clouds you noticed that the sun was slowly rising. It was such a pretty sight, regardless of the weather. The clouds had a tinge of orange and specks of pink. It oddly made you feel a bit better. A small smile formed onto your face. You spent the rest of your time observing your surroundings as you didn't feel like going on your phone.

When you saw the taxi arrive in front of the building you slowly stood up, trying to not lean on your right leg. You walked over the taxi and checked the number plate then hopped in. You were surprised to see it was the same one as earlier. You greeted him, to which he did the same. He asked where you wanted to go, to which you told him your address.

The drive felt the same as earlier, the man still occasionally glancing at you through the mirror. It made you a bit uncomfortable, but you didn't want to be rude so you kept your mouth shut. You stared through the window and watched as the rain came down, the sound oddly comforting. At least it didn't happen while you were at work. You leaned on your hand, thinking of what to do when you got home. You'll definitley have to wash that shirt when you get back, that's for sure. Oh wait, is that why he was looking at you?! A wave of embaressment flooded over you, you definitely looked ragged and dirty, no doubt about that.

You picked up your earphones and put them in, then listened to some music for the rest of the ride.

When you saw your house come into view you got your purse out ready to pay the man. When the car stopped he turned to you and told you price, to which you then pulled out and handed to him. You thanked him, to which he replied "No problem, have a good day." You got your bag then slipped it on, then you grabbed your crutches and got out. When you stepped out the rain instantly pelted onto you, causing you to shiver. The rain was as cold as ice. You quickly hurried to the door, unlocked it and went in. 'Great, now I'm drenched.' You thought, irritated. You sighed, then headed upstairs. You took off your bag, throwing it to the floor. Then you went to grab some fresh pjs then went to have a shower. It was still difficult because of the stupid cast since you couldn't get it wet, but at least you were clean. You randomly thought of the taxi and cringed, hopefully you didn't get it dirty.

Once you were finished you put on your clean clothes then put the dirty ones into the washing machine that was annoyingly downstairs. Afterwards you went into bed, enjoying the comfort while it lasted. After all, who knew what could happen the next night.

[talesofstyles]

Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I��ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though. 

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads. 

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight. 

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again. 

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.” 

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper. 

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won’t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock. 

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs. 

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison. 

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards. 

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning. 

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes. 

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter. 

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…” 

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie. 

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth. 

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.” 

Bollocks. 

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”

[drabblecat]

Yandere!Heisenberg x F!Reader Part 2

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight nudity, drugging

Part 1

Slightly longer than i was aiming for but that's ok! My initial thought was more pwp but then I realized I kinda wanted some sort of plot... Anyways, big plans for next chapters! As always I'd love to hear what you think and the ask box is open!

You took a moment to try and calm your nerves. Heisenberg still had your face in his rough hands, and you couldn’t try to run with that chain holding you down. As his thumb ran across your lips anger built inside you. Mother Miranda was supposed to protect everyone in the village, but as soon as shit hit the fan there was no one that came to the rescue. You parted your lips as if starting to speak, his thumb now pressing down on your lower lip. Tilting your head forward ever so slightly, you bit down on the man’s thumb. He pulled back and sat up in shock that someone in your current position would do such a thing.

“Take care of me huh? Like Mother Miranda was supposed to? Yeah, well look how that worked out!” The hand still next to your head quickly gasped onto your neck, lifting you up to meet his eyes.

“That bitch was just using the village. It was a lie she used to make sure we had the right number of bodies to work with and everyone fell for it!” Tightening around your throat you started to gasp for air, hands pulling at Heisenberg’s grip. He let you go, house bouncing against the mattress. “It seems you need some more time to adjust. I’ll be back later and hopefully you’ll realize your place here.” The bed shifted as he stood up. Walking to the door and closing it behind him you heard a loud telltale click of a lock.

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, not only to catch your breath, but also in attempt to process what exactly was happening. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, one spilling over your cheek and rolled down to your chin. You let it fall for just a moment, and then gathered yourself. What was done was done. True you saw people that you knew dying in the streets, but you didn’t truly know them. You were just the new girl in town, if they were in your place, they would just be happy to be alive. Besides, Heisenberg was one of the town’s lords, right? It’s possible that this isn’t all that bad, you don’t know anything about him besides owning the old factory. At least he’s not Beneviento or Moreau. The dolls were creepy as hell, and you were never one for going near the waters that looked like they’d eat you if given the chance.

Using the sheet you wiped your eyes, and decided it was best to examine your surroundings further. Getting off the bed, the chain falling to the floor with it, you saw the cuff had a decent amount of length to it. Besides the bed and the heavy door, there were a few other things. There was the chair still at the end of the bed, a small nightstand, a vanity, and two other doors. Walking over to the vanity you were taken back. It had a framed photo of you that you do not remember taking. Especially since it was of you just out of the shower! Hesitantly you tipped it over, not wanting to even think of what that photo implied. Below the vanity were some drawers, opening them you found a hairbrush, and what only could be described as some of the raunchiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. Then came the two doors, one was significantly smaller than the other. Trying the small one first in the back left of the room, no luck. After turning the round door knob a few times you gave it a rest. Next was the larger door, this one opened right away. Nothing too interesting, just an ordinary bathroom. It was a little dirty, but nothing worse than what you’ve seen at certain gas stations.

Starting by opening all the possible cabinets you found they were all empty. Nothing to even try to use to get out. No cleaning chemicals or even medicine in the medicine cabinet. Heisenberg must have thought this through this for some time. The chain finally ran out of length at the toilet, just short of the bath. Seeing as nothing came from this, you returned to the bed to stare at the ceiling and think. Not like there was anything else to do. Who knows how long it took you to explore the room and think your thoughts. Without windows or any sort of clock there was no way to tell. Curling up to one side you snuggled into the blankets. Once again you heard the door click, causing you to bolt upright to face the noise. Heisenberg came through the door, carrying a metal tray holding a plate of food, a fork, a glass with what looked like water, and a small white vase with two wilted yellow flowers.

“Dinner time! Now I know I’m not the best cook, but you should find this to at least be appetizing. After all you must be starving darling.” He sat the tray on the bed and sat back in his chair. The plate was just as he said, didn’t look five stars, but your stomach growled at the mess of food. It looked like some baked beans, accompanied by some thick slices of grilled ham, and a chunk of corn bread. You still didn’t move, despite your hunger.

“Ok ok, you probably think I drugged the food, right? Well, I didn’t. Drugging you would be easier with a dart gun.” He lowered his glasses slightly to look you in the eye. With a sigh he grabbed the fork, picking up an entire slice of the ham, ripping a bite out of it. “See?” he placed the ham with the fork in it back down on the plate, speaking as he chewed. You couldn’t hold out much longer. If now was dinner time, that means you missed an entire day with nothing to eat. Planning any sort of escape or resistance to him couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. Reaching forward you used the fork the cut off a bite sized piece. It was surprisingly well seasoned, and super tender.

“There you go sweetheart! I knew it would just take some time to get used to, I’m not all that bad.” He chuckled and watched you as you ate. Only because he was watching you did you eat just a little faster than you had wanted to. Sure, he was a little off putting, but he seemed happy when you played along with whatever sick fantasy he had conjured up in his head. Once the meal was done, he set the flower on your nightstand and the tray right beside it. He stood up, taking his hat and coat off and throwing it on the chair.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I had a full day today and I am beat. Time to get some shut eye.” He glanced over to the vanity; a small piece of cloth poked out from where you had rummaged around. “I see you had some fun today as well. Your still in that ragged gown, I think you might want to change into something a little more… fresh.” Shit, you thought you’d put everything back to where it was. You mentally curse yourself as he opened the drawers. He was right though; you were still in the stained nightgown from the attack. As much as a fresh outfit was a good idea, you dreaded what his choice might be.

After a few moments of rummaging, he pulled out a gown that looked like it went down to mid-thigh, in a deep crimson color. It would have been a nice gown, if it wasn’t for the fact that the entire section around the breasts were almost see through lace with slits on both sides that went from the bottom and halfway up.

“Absolutely not.” You blurted out, causing him to chuckle.

“Sweetheart I don’t think you have a choice in the matter. Besides you and I both know that if you stay in that grimy thing, it’ll make you more uncomfortable than wearing this. It’s soft to, pure silk.” He tossed it on the bed and gave you a wink. Giving a defeated huff, you picked it up. He was right, it was incredibly soft. Getting off the bed with the garment in hand you headed towards the bathroom.

“Aww, and I thought I was going to see you strip. Maybe some other time…” He looked at you with his shit-eating grin. Your face became flustered, and you slammed the door as fast as you could, not shutting all the way due to the chain. Once inside the bathroom you began to change, making sure he couldn’t see you through the crack in the door. It was only then that you found the slip came with a matching pair of panties. Sighing in defeat and honestly just tired of all the bullshit thrown at you these past days you just put them on. It did give you some comfort, surprisingly feeling clean in this lewd outfit over your much more covering, yet crawling with filth, night gown. Taking a look in the mirror you looked yourself over. At least your tits looked hot in this, a confidence boost is good, right?

Slowly opening the door further, you became almost timid at what you saw. Heisenberg had also begun to strip down to his boxers for the night. He was in the middle of removing his shirt. His muscular back was littered with all sorts of scars. His muscles flexed as he took of the white stained undershirt, the smallest beads of sweat wicked away by the fabric. His tight ass was also a sight to see. Looking over his shoulder, he locked eyes with you, no longer having glasses obscure the direct line of sight.

“Well well, seems we’ve both found ourselves some eye candy huh.” Tossing the last piece of clothing to the chair he approached the door. Opening it and taking your hand he looked down at you, you quickly looked away to avoid feeling more embarrassment. Suddenly he picked up bridal style, your hands immediately reaching for his chest in attempt to hold on. In doing so your hands felt the warm firm handful of his pecks. He chuckled as you quickly folded your hands back into your own chest. Ever so gently he set you back on the bed, a sharp contrast to what had happened earlier.

Settling down next to you, you turned away from him. As you felt the bed dip with his weight, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. You could feel a slight bulge resting against your ass. You tried to create some sort of distance, but you couldn’t move at all. Resigning to the situation, you tried to settle down, eyes unable to close despite some tiredness. All you could see in the limited range of movement you had was the nightstand, remnants of the meal, and the two flowers wilted but vibrant as they sat in the small vase.

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 5: Age 16 

Luke and Thalia break up on homecoming night. 

It’s only an hour into the night when Percy watches Luke drag Thalia out of the hall and into the parking lot. Even though it’s been months since Percy has hung out with either of them, he keeps an eye on the two, watching as their silhouettes point accusatory fingers at each other. 

Annabeth and Grover, who he came to the dance with, are swaying playfully on the dance floor, but he waves them over and nods to the open door that Thalia left, exposing her and Luke as they shout at each other. 

“Should we check on them?” Grover asks, biting his thumb anxiously. Percy shrugs and watches Annabeth. Well, at this point, he’s always watching Annabeth, especially tonight because she’s in a dress he’s never seen before, and it’s the colour of the sea, his favourite. 

“Annabeth?”

“It’s not our business,” she says softly, but her eyes never leave the couple. Percy nods, and keeps his eyes trained on them, worry growing in his throat as Thalia steps closer to Luke, getting in his personal space. 

Even from here, Percy can feel Luke’s anger, it’s potent and vile and he almost doesn’t recognise it on his old friend’s face. He’s about to tell Annabeth that they should intervene when someone lightly taps him on the shoulder. He whirls around, surprised, and forces a smile onto his face when he sees that it’s Rachel Elizabeth Dare. 

“Hey Percy.” 

Her voice catches Grover and Annabeth’s attention and they both turn to look at her as well. She doesn’t buckle under their gaze, keeping her bright eyes on Percy like she’s on a mission. 

“Hey Rachel, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to dance?” She says it confidently, but as soon as she’s done, she bites her lip and starts swaying back and forth on her feet like she can’t stand still. 

Dread fills Percy’s body and he struggles to come up with a nice way to say no because he really does not want to dance, not right now. 

Rachel must see it on his face because she gives him a sad smile and nods slowly. More dread fills his body and he glances anxiously to his friends at his side who are also waiting for an answer. Annabeth is frowning deeply and Grover has this sort of amused look on his face. 

“Right, that’s okay, uh, have a nice-” She starts and begins to walk away. Percy sighs and quickly reaches out, grabbing her wrist, when she pulls back he lets go quickly and holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait- Rachel. Sorry,” he stutters unsure of why he stopped her. He can feel his friends gaze on him as he speaks to Rachel but he doesn’t turn, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Rachel asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

“Yes, I’ll dance.” Her face instantly brightens and he holds out a hand, which she takes. 

Before he properly leaves, he quickly turns to Grover and Annabeth, whose mouth is wide open. 

“Come get me if something happens with Thals and Luke.” Grover nods but Annabeth just stares after him like he’s speaking another language. He ignores the tight knot in his stomach and lets Rachel lead him to the dance floor, placing his hands lightly on her waist. 

“What made you change your mind?” 

“Hmm?”

“You weren’t going to dance with me, what made you change your mind?” Percy blushes at the bluntness of her words and tries to come up with another excuse. As they’re swaying to the music, he steps back and spins her a bit as the song reaches the chorus.

When he can’t think of an excuse he tells the truth. 

“I wanted to see if I would feel a difference.” Rachel frowns and tilts her head at him confused. “I- uh, like someone else, and I’ve been trying to stop. I thought maybe if I danced with someone else I would feel different about them.” 

“Why do you want to stop liking them?” Rachel doesn’t even seem fazed that he’s just confessed he likes someone else. 

“Because she, I don’t know, I think she likes someone else, but she doesn’t realise it. So it’s just easier if I don’t like her.” Rachel loops her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, so close he can smell her floral perfume. It matches the brightly coloured flowers on her dress. 

“Well if I’m not mistaken, Annabeth hasn’t taken her eyes off of us the entire dance so I think you’re all good Percy.” 

“What?” Instantly he pulls his gaze away from Rachel and turns around wildly to look at where he last saw Annabeth. She’s not looking when he sees her, but he does catch sight of her flicking quick glances at him in between her conversation with Grover as the song ends and as Rachel walks him back to them. 

“How’d you know?” He asks Rachel, trying to figure out what gave him away. 

“Just a feeling. You should tell her.” When Percy doesn’t answer Rachel smiles and wiggles her fingers as a goodbye. “Thanks for the dance Percy, I’ll see you around.” 

He lifts a hand up as well, still too surprised at how easily she was able to read him. 

“Have fun?” Annabeth asks with pursed lips. 

Percy shrugs, “Yeah I guess. She’s pretty cool.” 

“Hmph.” 

Annabeth turns back to facing the door so that she can watch Thalia and Luke (who are still fighting) while Percy turns to Grover behind her back and tries to ask Grover what her problem is via extreme facial expressions. Grover scrunches his shoulders up and shrugs, saying he doesn’t know and Percy sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Out of nowhere, Annabeth’s hand slaps his wrist. 

“Hey!”

“Stop messing up your hair.” She says, without turning to him. 

“Who are you, my Mom?” He asks and keeps messing it up because it feels weird all gelled down and sticky. 

“No but you never have your hair like that and I want nice photos of us later.” 

“I look like an idiot.”

“That’s because you are, Seaweed Brain.” 

“Whatever.”

“Oh shut-”

A loud crack catches both of their attention and they both turn to the direction of the sound and see Thalia standing at the doorway, her fury tangible in her stance as she walks towards them. Behind her Percy barely glimpses a look at Luke who is cradling his face, blood seeping from his nose, where Percy assumes Thalia has just punched him. 

He doesn’t even fully register that she’s come up to them until she’s talking. 

“I know you probably hate me right now, but I can’t be here anymore. I’ll explain everything, but can one of you take me home please.” 

Annabeth is already opening her purse and handing the keys to Percy. He’s the better driver out of the two, and she’s already wrapping her arms around Thalia, who is fighting back tears. 

In less than 5 minutes the four of them are packed in Annabeth’s Dad’s old car and Percy is carefully pulling out of the parking lot and taking them to Annabeth’s house. 

Thalia doesn’t speak until they’re all situated in Annabeth’s room. Percy has taken off his second-hand suit jacket, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and Grover is pulling clothes from Annabeth’s drawer, throwing pieces at Percy so they can both change into comfier clothes. 

As he’s about to change Annabeth pokes him sharply. 

“Photos Percy!” She reminds, and he rolls his eyes, rebuttoning his shirt. 

Thalia waits for them to settle, Percy and Annabeth on her bed, and Grover on the window sill before she speaks. 

“Okay, so I want to start by saying sorry. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to any of you and I totally get if you hate me for that, but I do have a reason, but also it’s okay if you don’t forgive me because I wouldn’t forgive me either.” 

“Thals,” Annabeth whispers. She looks like she’s about to cry and Percy can see her hands fidgeting like they want to move and grab something. He reaches over to her bedside table and gives her a fidget toy, and then carefully takes her other hand, rubbing soothing circles around the top of her palm. 

She doesn’t say anything, but she squeezes his palm in thanks. 

“Let me talk first Annabeth before you say anything. I want to make sure I say this all right.” 

So she talks. Thalia starts from the beginning, how she’s always loved Luke, and how when he moved, she called him each day, and they never lost contact, and how him turning up wasn’t a surprise to her because they’d been talking about it for months already. She talks about how it was her first relationship with someone ever, and she’d never liked someone this much in her life, so she didn’t realise that spending every breathing moment with him wasn’t normal. At one point Thalia takes off her suit jacket and loosens her own tie. Annabeth offers a change of clothes but Thalia shakes her head, determined to continue with the story. She continues to say that Luke started acting differently when they officially started dating, started telling Thalia not to hang out with them because he only wanted to spend time with her, and that they were saying things about her behind her back. 

“I knew it wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to fight with him, everything felt so perfect when we were together. I just wanted us to not fight. So I let him pull me away from you guys.” 

This time when Annabeth squeezes Percy’s hand, it’s in warning, because he realises that he’s using her hand as a stress ball. He apologises silently by letting go, and loosely threading their fingers together so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt her. 

“It didn’t get bad until last summer when I told him that I missed you guys and that I wanted to be friends with you again. It got even worse when I told him that I might like girls as well as guys.” 

Percy sees her hold her breath as she says the last part and feels his face split open into a grin. 

“Me too,” he says simply and the smile that Thalia gives him back is enough for Percy to forgive her of everything. I’m proud of you, he mouths so that he doesn’t interrupt her story. 

“I don’t know why it was such a big issue, but he kept bringing it up. He never went a day without saying something about it, and it was never nice. I hated it. He made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to like both, and I realised that I just wasn’t happy with him. I was so sad all the time, and all I wanted was to talk to you guys but he was always there. At the gym tonight, I knew that the only way he’d actually let me break up with him was if it was public. So that’s what I did.” 

Annabeth pushes off the bed and throws herself onto Thalia. Percy and Grover are quick to follow until they’re a tangle of limbs, suits and dress (in Annabeth’s case) on the ground. Grover and Thalia are crying and holding each other tightly, and Annabeth has wrapped her arms around Thalia’s torso. It kind of reminds Percy of a koala and he pulls out his phone to take a photo of the three of them, immortalising this moment. 

“So what did he think when you showed up wearing that?” Percy asks, nodding at the fitted suit Thalia wears, “Looks awesome by the way,” he adds.

Thalia scoffs. 

“I thought his head was going to explode.” They all laugh and Percy rejoins them on the floor, ending up laying in Annabeth’s lap as they all hold onto each other, making up for time wasted. 

“I can’t believe Luke is such a jackass,” Percy says with a shake of his head. 

“Do you think he had a particular reason why he was like that towards you Thals? Is there something happening at his home?” Annabeth asks and Percy turns to her with an incredulous look. 

“Wise Girl, come on, no matter how crappy a person's home life is, that doesn’t mean you can project that onto someone you care about. Like look at me, you don’t see me being an ass to you just because Gabe was the worst step-father in the world.” 

“What happened with Gabe?” Thalia asks, sitting up abruptly when she hears his name but Percy waves her off. 

“Nothing important. He just wasn’t a good person, but we don’t live with him anymore. Mom’s dating Paul and she’s happy and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Thaila looks like she wants to say more but Annabeth cuts in. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for him, I just wanted to ask because that really doesn’t sound like the Luke I know,” she pauses when she sees Thalia’s face fall, “That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you...I really do. I just- I want to hear his side of it too you know? But I’ll stand by you no matter what.” 

Thalia nods slowly and takes Annabeth’s outstretched hand. 

“The Luke you know is very different to the Luke that I dated Annabeth. He’s changed a lot. He pretends he hasn’t, but he has and none of it is good. Even if you get his side of the story, I don’t think he’d tell the truth. I swear, on my brother and on my Mom, everything I’ve said is true. But if you want to ask him to double-check, I won’t stop you.” 

Annabeth does end up asking Luke for his side of the story, and her decision still baffles Percy to this day, but Thalia reassures him that it’s for her own sanity. 

“Luke and Annabeth were a lot closer than you remember I think. It really hurt Annabeth when he stopped talking to her. I think it hurt him too, I never knew why, but I think he had a thing for her at one point, but he chose me.” 

That old familiar sting of jealousy holes up in Percy’s stomach as he waits for Annabeth to come back and meet them at her car. 

“Do you think he still does? Like her, that is?” The words are like cotton in his mouth, suffocating and hard to speak around. 

“Maybe. Wouldn’t be surprised if she does too. She never told me, but I always had a feeling.” 

Oh.  

Percy nods, unable to bring himself to say anything and waits in silence. Annabeth comes walking down the steps, wiping her eyes and Percy’s instincts kick in, and he’s running to her, pulling her close to his chest and holding her there. 

“What did he do? Are you okay?” He asks when she finally pushes him away slightly. Her eyes are still watering but she smiles and pokes him in the cheek. 

“I’m okay. Let’s go home.”

She lets him lead her into the car, he drops Thalia off first before pulling up at Annabeth’s. 

“Come in?” 

He nods and follows her soundlessly to her room. He unwraps his scarf and hangs his jacket on a hook, like he has many times before and sets himself on her bed, playing with her old stuffed toys as she slowly undoes her coat, clearly distracted.

“Thals was right. Luke is- I don’t know who that Luke was.” Annabeth admits. 

A selfish part of Percy sighs in relief, and he holds out his arms as a peace offering to Annabeth. She smiles and sits down with him, not quite in his arms, but close enough that Percy isn’t complaining. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”

“Because you’re sad and I don’t like seeing you sad, especially when I can’t do anything about it.” 

“Seaweed Brain you can’t make everyone happy.” She says with a teasing smile.

“I don’t want to make everyone happy, just you.” The words come out before he fully processes thinking it and he swallows thickly when Annabeth stares at him, slightly dumbfounded. 

Finally, she moves, and leans down, ever so softly pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“You do make me happy. You always have, don’t doubt that.” Percy can’t help but close his eyes and relish in the warmth she gives him. When he opens his eyes again she’s staring right back at him, like she can see into his soul. He secretly wishes her eyes weren’t so beautiful, because then he wouldn’t have such a problem with looking away, but they’re not, they’re the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen and he never wants to stop. 

“You make me happy too.” More than you’ll ever know.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

[punkpoemprose]

A Convenient Arrangement Part 10

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 8805 Words A/N: Long chapter-- distance makes the heart grow fonder, fluffy date time, questions answered, and Kristoff definitely finds his wife attractive.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

The week was a long one. They both would agree when or if asked, but if it wasn’t related to festival plans, no one was asking either one of them anything. When they rose in the morning, they scarcely had time to greet each other in the hall or over breakfast before knocks at the door would pull them each their own way.

Kristoff spent most of his days with Kai, learning all that he could about royal manners, the history of the kingdom, peerage, and the other pertinent information and skills required of a prince consort. He’d be the first to admit it, most of it went over his head. Sometimes when Kai spoke to him he thought that he understood the words well enough individually, but when they were strung together as they were, they may as well have been in French.  

He really had no real interest in knowing whether it was more appropriate to bow or be bowed to when he met other members of the aristocracy which he was now technically a part of. He was doing his best to absorb what he could for Anna’s sake. He hated the idea that his lack of knowledge would reflect poorly on her because at the end of the day, even barely seeing her for a week, he cared deeply for her. He knew that part of making their marriage work was putting the effort in to understand her world.

When the lessons ended for the day, he would sometimes, but not always, have dinner with her. It felt like a small blessing to just be in her space since the announcement of the festival celebrating their engagement. He thought that it might be prudent to spend more time with her given that they were meant to at least appear a happy and doting couple to the public, but that detail seemed to be moot to whoever had decided to plan their days apart.

He supposed that he would seem in love with her regardless because he did have a fondness for her. He was beginning to understand the meaning of “distance makes the heart grow fonder” with each passing day. Every time they managed to dine together, he could often barely calm the racing of his heart while watching her enter the dining room, watching her sit across from him, close enough to look, but not to touch.

She’d ask him about what he had done each day and would share, in return, the plans she’d been making with her sister and the staff for the festival. He’d watch her carefully as they dined, noting the exhaustion in her posture that kept them from discussing much of anything past that. It was usually his only interaction with her each day, and it was always entirely too short.

Every night since the start of their overscheduled days, he’d slept in his room alone. Anna was usually needed elsewhere after dinner, attending to decisions and meetings that had been pushed late into the night. Sometimes she was being stolen for a fitting for her festival gown, other times decoration choices, and at least once she’d been taken for a chocolate tasting. That at least seemed to be the least objectionable way for her to spend her evenings of the lot.  Each night he’d waited for her to return in vain, and each night he’d eventually headed to bed alone.

It had become strangely lonely to climb into his bed at the end of each day, knowing that she would do the same on the opposite side of their shared door. He’d slept alone for his entire life, but after only a few nights with Anna in his arms, he hated the way it felt to lay in the large empty bed without her. Some nights he would stay awake a short while, expecting to hear her knock or laying there wondering if she wanted him to knock. He’d never heard her knock though, he’d just hear the opening of her door, the soft thuds of drawers and doors as she prepared for bed, and then silence.

From across the room, the small chest he stored his things in would taunt him with the memory of something she’d said just a few days before. A crystal sat amongst his belongings, untouched, waiting for him to work up the courage to remove it from its wrappings.

It would make things so much simpler.

Or infinitely more complicated.

He’d fall asleep like that, wondering whether he should knock, whether he should bring her the gem, whether he should just let things be, or whether he should just go spend the night in the stables with Sven and his worries.

At least then I’d have someone to talk to. I don’t even care that he doesn’t speak back.

He slept in his bed each night, and when he woke each morning, he’d feel like he’d barely slept. By the end of the week, he could see the bags under his eyes when he shaved. Only two weeks living in the lap of luxury and it was already exacting a price from him.

At this rate I’ll be grey in a month.

When the knock came again, he sighed, cleaned the remaining soap from his face and shouted for the knocker to enter. He assumed that Kai was arriving with another of his famously packed schedules. While Kristoff rather liked the man, he’d begun to dread his morning arrival. He’d lived his entire life unscheduled, never bothering to pay much attention to the calendar or clock, and he wasn’t particularly thrilled by the concept of time being his master instead of he being the master of it.

The door swung open behind him with only a light sound of protest from the hinges that were still getting used to the room having an occupant. It had been unoccupied for many years, and the door seemed to have enjoyed its time off as even oiling it hadn’t stopped its protest. The soft click of its closure came immediately after, and Kristoff awaited the address from Kai that didn’t come.

There was, instead, a soft clicking of heeled shoes on the wood floor behind him as he wiped the water from his face. He didn’t think much of it or course, not until he heard another familiar voice that made his heart race.

“Kristoff?”

Anna’s voice startled him. Of course, they usually had a quick morning conversation over breakfast, but she hadn’t been in his room, nor he in hers, in a week. He turned to see her, red faced and staring at his chest.

She looked tired as well and there was a sort of tearfulness to her eye that made him nervous. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping well, and he wondered if she had been upset by something. He could admit to being a little more emotional than usual when he was tired, so he could relate, but he couldn’t quite read what was going on with Anna as she stared at him.

He tossed the towel aside. His hair, which he had been about to comb, was still wet and he could feel rivulets of water dripping down his back and over his chest. Despite the warmth of the sun through his window, he felt cool, hairs standing up on his arms as he closed the space between them in long strides.

As he approached, she was still staring at him, her face flushed, and her lips parted slightly as if she were about to say something. She said nothing though, and he started to understand her expression a bit better. There was exhaustion there of course, but it was only serving to exacerbate the absolute frazzled countenance and posture she was currently performing.

It made him relax a bit. She didn’t look upset per say and he did know that his wife was not a morning person. He also had the sneaking suspicion that there was a small tinge of embarrassment in her eye and that it could explain the flush on her cheeks.

She blinked after a moment and looked up from his chest to meet his eye. He started to get the sense from as quickly as she looked away and to the floor that he understood.

Embarrassment.

It was a feeling that he had become remarkably familiar with in the last couple weeks. He’d spent years of his life half or completely naked in the woods, not knowing what it was like to worry about how he looked or sounded, but the castle was quickly making him aware of just how embarrassed he should be about, well, everything.

It was a feeling that he wasn’t particularly fond of in any way shape or form, but it was something he was getting used to. There was something at least a little bit reassuring in being comfortable with discomfort, knowing it was part of the process. Kai had been kind enough to show him that in their lessons, telling him that he was in the perfect position to always act as if he’d done nothing wrong even when he slipped up, and that if he didn’t react it didn’t give anyone else the room to do so either.

“I’m…” she started to stretch her hand out, reaching for him like she was going to press her palm into his chest.

He didn’t back away or shift from her reach, but her hand fell anyway.

“Sorry. I’m… I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to be… well that is… I didn’t know you were still getting ready. I’ll, oh gosh. I’ll leave.”

It all clicked into place then, and Kristoff couldn’t help but feel oddly amused. He felt a smile creeping to his face, completely unbidden, for the first time in a long while. He shook his head.

“No, you’re fine. I just finished up. I just need to put a shirt on and comb my hair. Did you need something?”

She seemed to collect herself somewhat as he responded. He watched as she nodded in return, still flushing, but focusing a bit more on making eye contact with him despite it.

“I thought that we could, um, skip the meetings today? I had Kai clear your schedule. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it would be nice to just get out for the day.”

Her voice went soft when she added, quietly, “I’ve missed you.”

He felt like she’d just handed him the most perfect gift he’d ever received. There was nothing he could imagine ever wanting more than spending time away from the castle with her. There was no greater gift than a break from the frustrating monotony of lessons with the built-in bonus of having her at his side.

“I’ve missed you too.”

He turned from her for a moment, crossing the room back to his dressing table. It was a motion with a twofold intention, allowing her to flush again without the scrutiny of his eye, and allowing him to dress and get ready as soon as possible. He could all but feel her relax behind him once his shirt was on, and it almost made him chuckle.

He remembered her sleeping against his bare chest, her face smushed against him as she slept in the most ridiculous and endearing way possible. It was a happy and sad memory, still fresh in his thoughts from how recent it had been. He’d enjoyed feeling her against him, but still remembered what it had felt like to have her shaking, crying into his shirt just before they slept. He pondered why seeing him without a shirt in the light of day was somehow more blush-worthy but decided that he’d rather not dig too deep into it. He’d be happy if they saw a day where she wasn’t embarrassed around him at all. She had no reason to be.

“You look nice,” she said after a short time.

He’d felt her eyes on him as he’d finished readying himself for the day. He walked over to her, tying his sash around his waist as he went.

He hadn’t been convinced by Kai to change his style of dress, and he had been grateful that the man hadn’t really tried to convince him to do so at all. As a result of this, he was told that he had more clothes coming to him than he’d ever owned before, and that they would be in finer fabrics than he’d ever ben about to afford. He was grateful though that they would mostly mimic the styles he’d always worn, and that they would fit. He couldn’t ask for a better outcome to his tailoring situation than that.

He would have locked himself in the palace’s dungeon before he would have worn all the frills and layers of other men of station. He understood the need for a good suit but would never quite be on board with lace. He evidently had a set of formalwear arriving soon, and while he wasn’t particularly excited about it, he had been promised that his daily wear would not be nearly so embellished and that what he had coming was downright innocuous compared to the season’s fashions. Kai had called it “timeless” and he hoped that what he meant by that was “simple”.

Anna seemed cautious when she walked to his side after offering the compliment. Kristoff held his breath when she reached out a hand and gently smoothed a wrinkle in the front of his shirt with her palm.

Having her hands on him always felt good. There was no denying the fact that he enjoyed her attentions, and he couldn’t help but grin when her touch lingered a little longer than strictly necessary. He’d been longing to see her for days, to hold her hand, to even stand near her side.

“Thank you,” he said quietly after he allowed himself to breathe again.

He turned his attention to what she wore. It was perhaps the simplest dress he’d ever seen her wear, save of course for her nightgowns. It was dark green with some small embroidered details around the neck. It looked a bit like little flowers and birds, though he didn’t dare dip his head down towards her neck to investigate further. He didn’t think he could keep himself from pressing a kiss to her neck if he did. Even without further inspection, the fabric seemed light, like if he touched her waist while she wore it, she might be able to feel the roughness of his fingers through it.

“You look beautiful.”

She grinned at the compliment and he couldn’t help but feel grateful that she was happy to hear such a thing from him of all people.

“Thank you.”

He watched as she laced her fingers together behind her back and fidgeted a bit. Her nervousness came through when she spoke again.

“Since we’re going out I didn’t want to wear anything that would draw too much attention. I’m glad you still like it.”

He almost laughed, but held the reaction in. He wondered how she could ever be nervous about her appearance, as if she weren’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if he wouldn’t have thought that she was gorgeous even if they weren’t married. As if every man with eyes in a mile wouldn’t notice her even if she wore rags.

“I’ve told you before Anna, you’ll still turn heads. It has nothing to do with what you wear.”

He meant it, and he was rewarded by a shy smile and the unlacing of her fingers from each other, only to slip between his. The way his heart raced from her simply holding his hand made his face red.

Does she know how easily I’d fall apart for her?

He had to chase the thought away. He had to focus on the moment they were in before he said something he shouldn’t, something they weren’t ready for yet.

“So,” he asked, “What are we doing today?”

She shrugged a bit, then started to pull him toward the door to the hallway with her. He didn’t resist, letting himself be tugged along at her mercy.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Every time she smiled, with every moment he spent holding her hand, he fell in love a bit deeper.

***

Anna’s morning had, thus far, not gone according to plan. Of course, there had barely been a plan to begin with, but blushing like a schoolgirl over seeing her husband shirtless and having her sister find out about her intentions to leave the castle weren’t exactly indicative of what it was that she’d had in mind.

As a consequence of the latter unplanned component of her day, she now found herself and her fortunately-and-unfortunately-fully-dressed husband being followed by a royal guard in full uniform. She felt like she was thirteen, being chaperoned on a date instead of being an adult woman out on a walk with her husband.

It’s not like I’m planning to snog him in the middle of the market.

Then a more judicious thought.

Of course, I didn’t plan a lot of things that have been happening lately.

She shook it off and instead focused on her recollection of her conversation with her sister.

“There’s still some unrest amongst the people Anna, what would you do if someone decided to take their anxiety out on you?”

She’d wanted to respond in several ways, most of which were incredibly sarcastic, but the forerunners had been each unique in their ability to elicit a response from her sister.

I would survive. You’ve taken your anxieties out on me twice.

From Elsa: Sadness.

I would fight them.

From Elsa: Long suffering exhaustion.

I would let my incredibly big and strong husband take care of it for me while I ogle him from the sidelines because while I love to fight my own battles, I also think it would be nice to watch him fight someone for me so I could watch those biceps flex.

Embarrassment on both of their parts.

Anna had, in the last week of barely seeing him but at meals and in passing, taken a particular interest in her husband’s physique. The morning’s events were not even close to the first time she’d looked at him and thought about what it would be like to be in his arms again, to have his large hands spanning her waist, lifting her off her feet and up closer to him.

So close that we could kiss.

She’d been longing for his touch since the first night she’d slept along. All week, once she managed to slip into a fitful sleep, she’d dreamt of him kissing her. She could still remember how real it had felt in her sleep, not that she knew what it would really feel like. They’d kissed at their wedding, her first and only “real” kiss, but the sort of deep, attentive kiss she’d received from him in her dream was something she’d never experienced.

I want to. I desperately want to.

They were in the residential district of the city. The cobbles of the path were fairly worn, but even below her feet. There were places here and there that she was already mentally noting needed improvement. A few lamps had cracked glass that likely made them unreliable on breezy evenings, some places in the road were low and held water that didn’t drain off easily. She would tell Elsa and ensure that a more formal investigation of the city and national infrastructure was eventually made. Personally, she thought that such a thing might be the better way to improve public opinion of the monarchy than a grand display of power and wealth, but she couldn’t pretend that her wedding hadn’t improved things.

Every now and then as they walked, she’d catch someone looking at her twice. Most people were away from home, working or learning at school, but a few people were home or in the area. Older people and young mothers mostly looked at her with recognition, and she did her best to give them a shy smile without giving the indication that she was available to stop and chat. It was a delicate dance. She liked to speak with her people, of course, but she truly just wanted to spend some time with her husband. One tagalong is already bad enough.

She’d wanted to go to the market. She’d thought it might be enjoyable to see the wares she’d only watched traded from above, but her unwanted guard had insisted that “her royal highness and her consort refrain from entering any highly trafficked and indefensible zones” which had, essentially made a trip to the market impossible unless she wanted a full guard detail.

That would certainly inspire confidence in the monarchy. Hello peasants, we don’t trust you to not murder our Princess, don’t mind the platoon of men you may or may not know who are, at any moment, prepared to stab you!

She’d all but felt Kristoff rolling his eyes in response to the guard’s words. It was like she sensed the expression he was making at her side before she’d even caught him actually making it.

“It’s just a little further… I think,” she said a bit nervously, squeezing Kristoff’s arm as they walked down the street together.

There were a few specialty shops that weren’t housed in the market district, and while she hadn’t visited any of them in many years, she thought that she’d recalled the location of the shop she was after. Thought, of course was the appropriate term given that nothing looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been in the area. The years had a funny way of changing things, and she hadn’t been to the shop without her mother which was indicative of the time that had passed since she’d seen it last.

Kristoff didn’t seem to mind the somewhat aimless walking they were doing. Anna suspected that if she told him the locations she desired to reach, he’d have an answer for her, but she liked keeping it a secret. It gave some small crumb of fun back to the adventure which had been intended to be more daring before their escort had been assigned.

“I bet you know these streets better than I do,” she said after a few more moments of walking, giving voice to her thoughts.

Mostly she was just endeavoring to break the silence between them. He’d seemed rather thrilled to leave the castle, but he’d been quiet since they left. She had a feeling that their unwelcome follower was making him as uncomfortable as it was making her annoyed.

“Not so much in these side streets,” he replied.

He pulled her ever so slightly right as they walked, helping her to avoid a puddle she hadn’t noticed until he was steering her around it. It was sweet, she thought, that he was saving her shoes from getting damp. She also didn’t mind how easily he’d pulled her even closer to his side with the gesture, putting her even more in his space.

“I do know the market fairly well though. When I sell ice I tend to stay over that way.”

Anna nodded and gave him an appreciative squeeze for the assistance with the puddle. He was absolutely the helpful sort, but somehow she doubted that he advertised himself that way. She got the distinct sense in his interactions with the guards, the staff, and anyone else she’d seen him forced to interact with, that he’d rather be seen as gruff and unapproachable. He wasn’t overly so with her, but she sometimes felt that he acted like a grump when in reality he just felt awkward or uncomfortable.

She tended to talk a lot when she felt the same way. It was something she knew about herself, that she dealt with anxiety with exuberance and self-deprecation. She was trying to get a better handle on it, and now with Kristoff at her side she found that it was easier to lean on him for support when she was feeling out of control. She hoped that he’d find he could do the same with her.

When she noticed the shop she was looking for nestled between two houses to their left she excitedly tugged Kristoff in return. She hadn’t been there in a great many years, but the old building still looked the way she remembered it as a child.

Oaken’s Thrifted Goods, Antiques and Consignments.

She’d traveled there every now and again with her mother who, despite being the Queen of their nation, was practical and more interested in the old than the new. They’d always looked for things there that reminded her mother of her youth, little things that were made by hand that reminded Anna that while few knew it, her mother had been common as well.

She sometimes wished that she had asked more questions of her mother, that she had learned the story of how she’d met her father and how they’d come to be wed. All Anna did know was that Iduna wasn’t born in Arendelle and that she was not royal by blood. There were some records somewhere in the archives about her being given a duchy somewhere in the direction of the hinterlands, and with the suddenness that she’d shown up in her father’s public life, she supposed that everyone must have assumed that she was born noble and had simply spent her whole life in the hills.

Maybe, she thought, Kristoff wouldn’t feel so out of place if he knew that he was not the first consort to Arendelle royalty to have been born common. She wondered if he would take comfort in the fact that the nation’s Queen hadn’t had an ounce of royal blood and that it had been purposeful. Marrying for love was not common for aristocracy, but her parents had done it.

“Oaken’s?”

Kristoff seemed confused, staring at the sign for a moment as if in disbelief.

“Yes?”

Anna stopped short of the door, feeling as confused as he was, her confusion having everything to do with his confusion and nothing to do with the shop before them. She didn’t think that the shop had ever moved. It might have changed hands in the years since she’d been there last, the owner had been an older man so she supposed it was possible that the shop was now run by someone who was not an Oaken. She wondered if that was the point of confusion for him, maybe he thought that the business had been renamed or something.

“There’s an Oaken who owns a trading post up in the mountains. It couldn’t be the same guy, right?”

Anna shrugged; she really couldn’t say for sure. She was glad to understand why he was confused, and she couldn’t help but try to recall whether or not the last name was terribly common.

“Because uh…” he looked back toward the guard, and then back at Anna seeming a little sheepish.

He ducked down and whispered in her ear, “The Oaken I know, he and I occasionally get into arguments over pricing. We’ve mostly worked it out, but I thought you should know in case we walk in and I get the stink eye.”

Anna tried to hold back her laugh, but to no avail.

He gave her an exasperated look when she walked them through the door, turning back to tell the guard he wasn’t needed indoors.

“Yet.”

***

Kristoff was grateful to know that the Oaken inside the shop was not the Oaken he’d recently had some “pricing debates” with. They rarely really argued, but he’d felt on one or two occasions that his arguments with Oaken brought the usually even-tempered man to the point of anger. They’d always sorted it out of course, but he was still waiting for the day that the man would throw him out on his rear over a debate.

No, this Oaken was much older, possibly the father of the man he knew, or some other elderly relative given the similarity of their faces and builds. He seemed similarly even tempered thus far, but perhaps a bit less enthusiastic. He’d been pleasant with Anna of course, recognizing her as the crown Princess and evidently a former customer, but he’d also told them in no unspecific terms that he was too old to help them and that if they had any questions, they should come to him because he was not going to them.

“Isn’t it so neat in here?”

Kristoff couldn’t help but smile as he saw Anna taking in the many items packed into the small building. They were arranged neatly, everything from old steamer trunks and hand-crafted furniture to piles of old keys and shelves of dusty books.

Anna grinned at all of it, openly gazing about the space like it was full of gold instead of second and third hand items. He thought that it was charming in a way, that the practical used items of the people who lived in her kingdom were of interest to her.

“My mother and I used to spend hours here when I was a little girl. She taught me how to sew using old tablecloths we bought here… not that I’m particularly good at it, but I can put a button back on if I need to.”

He couldn’t help but find her excitement at least a little bit contagious as he gazed upon the shelves and tables of items with her. There was something about the well-worn tools and broken in chairs in the space that spoke to him in a way that the fancy spotless trappings of the castle just couldn’t. He’d always been practical, and the items here were nothing if not sensible.

“It’s strange for me to try to imagine a Queen here,” he said, hoping that she took no offense to his saying so.

He was happy when he noticed Anna smiling fondly.

“My mom wasn’t really the royal type… not that she didn’t act like a Queen, because she did. She just never saw the point in waste, and she liked simple things. I have a shawl of hers that she had since she was a girl, a pretty handmade thing that she mended herself. That’s how I usually remember her; warm and pragmatic.”

“I’d probably describe my mom the same way,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet yours.”

Anna looked sad for a moment, but Kristoff could tell that it wasn’t his fault. The space brought it out of her as much as it brought her joy. He knew it was her first time here without her, and he was glad that they were talking about it. He was glad that she’d brought him somewhere so important to her.

“I’m sorry too,” she said before taking a deep breath and adding, “she would have liked you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just gave her what he hoped came off as an appreciative smile and squeezed her hand.

When she squeezed back and leaned into this side, for the first time in a week, he felt like he could truly relax.

“I thought we’d look for some things for your room?”

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice that he registered as nerves coming through. He wondered how long they would be nervous when they spoke to each other, how often they’d be walking on glass with one another. He already trusted her, and he desperately wanted to show himself to be worthy of her trust in return. Testing the already tenuous bonds of their fledgling relationship was understandably nerve wracking.

“I don’t really need much… I brought most of my things with me.”

He didn’t want to shut her down. He didn’t want to say no when she clearly wanted to do something with him. He just was unused to the idea of buying things for himself. He usually only bought what he couldn’t make or find himself

She’s trying.

“I… I know, it’s just… I know the room isn’t probably the way you want it to be. I remember your cabin being a lot cozier and I thought that maybe we could find some things here to make it a little more like that. Elsa suggested we get a decorator for you to consult with, but I kind of thought you’d hate that so…”

She let out a sort of nervous laugh and he felt his heart racing in his chest.

She’s been thinking about this. She’s been thinking about you.

“I… I’m not used to buying things… or having things bought for me. It just feels strange I suppose.”

Anna’s fingers slipped from his then, and the loss of contact was immediately distressing until she felt them tentatively shifting up his arm and wrapping around his bicep. She stepped in front of him and gave him a soft smile before pulling him in the direction of the nearby bookshelves that separated the front and back of the shop, forming an archway between them.

Once they had slipped past the shelves, she pulled him into a smaller alcove in the shop filled from floor to ceiling in small, labeled drawers. According to their labels they held everything from furniture hardware to saltshakers and children’s toys. She leaned into him once they were in the space, hiding them away in the already empty shop save for its owner.

“Please,” she said softly.

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at him. He thought that she looked a bit determined despite the hesitancy she’d shown a few minutes before.

“I know this is all new and strange to you, but I really just… I want to do something for you. Please? I wasn’t even able to get you a wedding gift, and frankly if you’re worried about money… I guess no one told you about my dowry?”

He blinked for a moment, trying to focus on what she was saying when all he could think about was that she was hugging him. A week away from her touch, and only being somewhat familiar with the feeling of having her wrapped around him was taking its toll on his mind. He was already frazzled, just by the way it felt to have her against him again.

He wrapped his arms around her in return and noticed the way she melted into him a little more as he did so. He did his best to catalogue all the ways in which she was making him feel, and he flushed a bit when he realized that the embrace, combined with the doe eyed gaze she was giving him, was causing a very specific sort of reaction in him that he’d thus far been managing in her presence.

His wife was beautiful, he was getting a very good view of her freckled decolletage, and he was very much a man. He could feel his face going red again.

“I’m sorry,” he said a bit nervously realizing he hadn’t really heard what she’d said, “What?”

“I want to get you some things as a wedding gift, but if you’d prefer… I guess no one told you about the dowry, but there’s…” she cleared her throat, seeming embarrassed to be discussing money with him, “there’s a lot there. I think you have an account with the treasury, maybe Kai was going to tell you later, but anyway… you can afford to purchase things on your own if you want… I just, I really wanted to do something for you today. I wanted to do something with you.”

He almost asked about the dowry, the heart attack that revelation gave him being enough to distract him from the line his thoughts had been running in, but he could tell the discussion was making Anna uncomfortable. He didn’t exactly feel like telling her in this fraught moment that he wanted no bride price from her, and that certainly didn’t need the sort of exorbitant amount of money she was implying.

“If you would enjoy it,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat when the words came out a bit muddled, “I’m sure we could find something. You’re right, the room isn’t exactly cozy.”

I can’t tell her that I prefer her room over mine.

She smiled then and leaned her head into his chest. He felt the tension leaving both of their bodies when he pulled her closer.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss into her hair and reveled in the soft sound she made in return. He longed for the day he’d kiss her properly.

***

Anna had almost felt bad relegating their guard to purchase handling duty.

Almost.

Of course, it hadn’t been his fault that he’d been sent to mettle in her day plans, but she was still a little miffed that he’d prevented her from taking Kristoff into the market to pick out some new things for his room. She knew that it was because Elsa had been the one to insist upon his guarding, but Anna wished that sometimes people were more amenable to bending her sister’s rules. She certainly was herself.

It didn’t matter now though, not when she felt Kristoff’s hand at her back, supporting her on the ladder they’d requested be brought up to his room so that Anna could hang the sage green curtains they’d managed to find at the shop.

He’d laughed at her glee over finding them, and she’d felt genuinely happy to be laughed at. She liked that her enthusiasm brought him joy, and truly she hadn’t felt like she was being laughed at by him. The better term would be that he was laughing with her, and she thought that if it was something that they could do together every day, their marriage would be exactly what she’d always wanted.

All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to love me.

She saw it in his eye when he helped her off the ladder. The joy of sharing the domesticity of the day with her, the spark of something that she might dare call like if not love. She held the joy it brought her in her heart, locked it up tight so that nothing that might occur in the next week leading up to the festival might steal it from her.

“You’re right,” he said warmly, “They do make it feel less…”

“Formal,” she finished.

The curtains were simple, a plain sage green with some small vines at the very top and bottom embroidered in white thread. Had she been any good at it, or had she had the patience for it, she liked to think that it would have been the sort of thing she would have made for him.  

He nodded, and she felt his hands linger at her waist even when she was standing back on solid ground.

They’d shared lunch when they’d returned, eating it at the table in his room that was now decorated with a small candle holder she’d found that reminded them both of Sven’s antlers.

“When they bring the high back chairs up from storage, I think that’ll help too. We can have them put by the fireplace.”

She’d insisted that since he hadn’t allowed her to purchase any furniture for him, even used, that he select some furniture from the castle storage to improve the comfort of the space. He had selected a few items from a list she’d sent for while they were dining and she was rather pleased by his choices.

Making his room more comfortable for him was something that she was taking great enjoyment from.

That I’m also making it more comfortable for me is just a bonus.

She couldn’t really lie to herself. It was, in part, by design that she had insisted on two chairs instead of one, and that she’d encouraged him to pick a lovely quilt from the shop that made her think of the one they’d been wrapped in at his cabin. She couldn’t deny that she was thinking ahead to a time where perhaps she’d spend more time in his space, though she could hardly dare to think about a time beyond that, a time where his things would blend together with hers and where they would spend every night together. A time where the door between their rooms wouldn’t be needed.

Her heart raced every time the thought crossed her mind.

He lifted up the last remaining item they had to find a home for, a small wooden trinket box that he’d taken an interest in early on in their search. It had been amongst a pile of tools but had not been large enough to hold any of them. It was simple, smaller than her jewelry boxes, but roomy enough to fit a few small objects. The top had a line of trees burned into it but was the only decoration on the piece.

“I think I know what belongs in here,” he said after a few moments of looking it over.

I think I do too.

Her heart raced when he crossed the room to his chest and kneeled to the floor to open it. She’d been hoping, quietly, almost secretively to even herself, that he would want to show her the crystals again.

What did it mean? Why did he nearly kiss me after I told him about the glow?

***

The crystals were wrapped loosely in scraps of fabric, protecting their rough natural edges from chipping and breaking. He could feel the soft hum of magic inside each of them, even through the cloth. His parents had taught him how to feel it, encouraging him to focus on it and to guide the magic into his hands. He would never be able to control it as they did. Magic didn’t run in his blood like it did theirs, but as Anna approached behind him, he made the choice to show her, at least as much as he could, the importance of the gems.

He patted the floor beside him and was grateful when she didn’t hesitate to sit at his side in front of the box. He watched as she quickly settled herself to his side, her knees bumping into his gently as she sat.

“I think they deserve a special home,” he said, gesturing to the box he’d already set on his other side.

One deserves a very special home. It belongs with you.

The thought didn’t exactly catch him off guard as much as it slipped through the cracks of the wall he’d been holding it behind. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had a great deal of hope about what Anna had said before about the crystal, because to admit that would be to invite disappointment when the outcome was decidedly not what he was hoping for.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I love her. If it’s not by fate it’s at least by choice.

He took some small comfort in it as he unwrapped the gems and lifted out the yellow one first.

“This one,” he said, focusing on the way it felt warm in his palm, encouraging it to give off a light glow, “is a fire crystal. They come in a few shades of red and orange and yellow. The trolls can actually start fires with them, but I can get it to warm up a little if I really focus on it.”

After a moment of quiet between them he heard her gasp as the crystal began to glow a pale yellow. He couldn’t help but grin when he handed it to her and let her watch the glow fade. He noticed the way she hovered a hand above the stone feeling the slight warmth radiate off of it from above as she felt it in her palm. She seemed thoroughly impressed and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud to have been able to show it to her.

He handed her the small box and watched as she carefully set the stone inside. Once she was finished, he pulled out the next crystal, the blue one. He’d never had quite as much luck getting an effect with it, but he could make it glow.

“This one is a water crystal. The trolls can get them to make rain, but I’ve only ever been able to get a little condensation on the outside and I’m not convinced it wasn’t just sweat from my hand.”

When she laughed he felt light.

It’s easy to feel hopeful when everything she does makes my heart race.

The gem let off a light glow, but little more. She seemed impressed nevertheless and when he handed it to her, she focused on it in her palm for a short while before setting it too into the box with great care.

He had to remind himself to breathe watching her look from the box to him. When her eye met his, a strange knowingness there, he felt fear leave him. They were so close that he could easily kiss her, just by leaning in. He let the cloth fall away from the last crystal and forced himself to inhale deeply, breaking their eye contact to turn his attention to the pale pink gem.

She’s my wife. I love her.

“This one,” he began, lifting it from the fabric with his other hand to show her better, “This one is special. Every man in my family receives one when they reach adulthood, and they guard it closely. Its magic is special because it’s tied to the heart. I never really listened to everything my father told me about it because I never thought I’d have a reason to show it to anyone, but…”

She was looking at him intently, her eyes meeting his and then glancing to his lips. He felt his heart racing.

“Why doesn’t it glow when you hold it?” she asked, breaking the long silence where he’d let his speech drop off.

He gave her a soft, almost rueful smile. She felt like there was a joke there that she didn’t understand.

“Because it’s mine,” he started, then after a moment’s thought, continued, “It’s confusing and hard to explain if you weren’t raised knowing about it, but essentially the trolls think that everyone has a fated partner, a second half. You know they believe in fate, we discussed it when you met them, but this is the ultimate show of that belief. The only person that is supposed to make your gem glow is your soulmate.”

She flushed and he longed to give her a better reason to do so than a crystal. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and tell her that it didn’t matter whether or not it glowed when she touched it. He wanted to kiss her and show her how little it mattered to him, but it would be a lie.

It does matter. I love her. I want her to see that I will only ever love her.

He knew she’d be crushed if it didn’t.

He watched as she extended her hand to him slowly. There was a shine to her eye that he understood as nerves. She’d told him before that the gem had glowed when she’d touched it, but he had thought about all the things it could have been, and was sure that she was worried about it as well.

A trick of the light, a fluke, a misremembrance from a day where she’d been given shock after shock.

“You don’t have to.”

She gave him a soft smile in return.

“I think we both know that I do.”

There was a finality in the way she cautiously uncurled her fingers, insisting that he deposit the gem in her hand. He wondered if she truly believed what she had seen before, or if the nerves he had seen in her were from the concern that it wouldn’t react to her touch.

He dropped it into her palm and felt the racing of his heart reach a crescendo.

Pink.

***

Anna felt her heart racing as he handed her the gem. She could see in his eyes that this meant even more than he was saying.

Soulmates. The glowing means we’re soulmates.

She’d spent her whole life wanting to be wanted, wanting to be someone’s everything. She tried to shake off her concerns that she’d been seeing things before when she’d made the gem glow in his cabin, but it was hard to believe that she had always been meant for someone, that she and Kristoff had been fated to be together.

She saw the shakiness of his normally steady hand as he held the gem over her palm, and she had to remind herself to breathe in the moments before he released it into her hand.

She gasped when the cold gem hit her skin and immediately sent a bright pink glow across her palm.

Fate.

Soulmates.

She’d already known. Something inside her had known since their wedding night, even before the trolls, that with Kristoff was where she was meant to be. The confirmation had her joyous.

He wrapped his hand over hers when he recognized the light, squeezing the gem between their palms and doing nothing to dampen the glow. If anything, Anna thought that it might be glowing even more under the combined touch of their skin. She didn’t have long to notice whether it was true or not though, because her view was quickly blocked by Kristoff entering her space.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her to him enthusiastically. She let an appreciative, borderline needy, sound slip from her mouth and was rewarded by the press of his lips to hers.

It was a remarkably different kiss to the one they’d shared at their wedding. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t chaste, and it wasn’t required.

She took the hand that was not entwined with his and let it slip up to his hair naturally. She’d wanted to slide her fingers through his hair for well over a week, and now it felt instinctive to do so. Her hand squeezed a bit tighter against his as she deepened the kiss, feeling the way he drew her in even closer as she did so.

She didn’t try to tame the soft sounds of pleasure that slipped from her mouth and into his, she didn’t fight it when he kissed her breathless. She simply forged ahead, feeling safe and loved in her husband’s arms, kissing him with love and appreciation.

My husband. My soulmate. How could I ever have doubted it for even a moment?

***

He hated to be the one to break the kiss, especially after being the one to initiate it. Unfortunately, what he could remember of his family’s tradition dictated that he stop kissing her at some point. He had work to do now, and there was only one place he could do it.

He let his free hand slide up from where he’d been holding her, to her cheek, cradling it. Her eyes were still half lidded and showed pleasure in their darkness as she looked from his lips to his eyes. She was glowing as much as the gem was, and he couldn’t help but to take a moment to just stare at how beautiful his wife was.

She leaned her head into his palm lovingly, almost nuzzling him. He thought that someday if she allowed him to, they’d sit just like this again and he’d count each and every freckle on her nose and cheeks. It was a scene that played out nicely in his thoughts, giving him the strength through promises of the future, to pull away.

“I’m sorry Anna, but I have to leave for tonight. I have to go do something… I have to tell…”

“You have to tell your family,” she said matter of factly, understanding in the face of his uncertain apologetics.

“It’s okay,” she added after a moment, “I’ll still be here when you come home.”

What she didn’t say, but what he heard in her tone was the “I love you”.

He leaned in again and when she kissed him, he felt the words in the act. He tried his best to give it to her in return.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Anna, my wife, my soulmate, I love you.

Someday soon he’d say it out loud.

[candreloup]

Whooeeee this is a long one! Also, it's so late at night... Sorry for the late post again! Finally cracked that writer's block too with this one, so that's good! (Side story- I literally leaped out of my bed and knocked over my trombone to write the second and third paragraph haha) Oh, and the idea/prompt for this one is from an irl contributor in my family who I asked for ideas! The original prompt was a sad hero whose only purpose in life is fighting the villain. Anyways, on to the story!

The room was dark. A light shone through the cracks in the door, barely shading in the dark shadows of furniture. It was deadly silent, the air thick and filled with the smell of sweat and tears. Everything felt unnaturally still, full of a menacing quiet. The only sound was the soft breathing in the corner of the room, from the curled body on the small twin bed overcast by shadows. Soon, the breathing became ragged, the small figure thrashing in their blankets as sweat dripped from their face and mingling with tears onto the pillow.

Hero jolted upright, clutching at their chest. Nightmare. They frantically tried to untangle themselves from the blankets, drowning in darkness and air. The covers seemed like liquid, trapping Hero within their restricting grasp and caging them like a bird. It made Hero panic even more, struggling and pulling at their throat in an attempt to free the air trapped there. The room filled with the sharp sound of choking gasps and the clatter of limbs against walls and furniture.

Hero stumbled out of their bed, tripping over blankets and objects scattered around the room. They reached for the table, clawing at the mahogany and pulling open the drawers in a panic. Everything clattered, filling their ears with a deafening cacophony overshadowed only by the sound of their own heartbeat. It consumed their mind, overtaking it with desperation and panic. They couldn’t think, couldn’t see- the pitch black covered everything like a suffocating blanket of claustrophobia. Hero stopped their frantic search through the drawers to grab at the light switch on the lamp, nearly pulling it down as it crashed against the headboard loudly. The floor had objects littering the floor- a piece of jewelry missing its mate here, a scrap of a long-forgotten picture there. Everything came out as Hero frantically tried to find the tiny orange container, feeling their own throat close up as they searched longer and longer. It felt like forever before they found it, prying open the lid with shaky fingers and scattering the pills onto their hand. Not bothering to count them, Hero threw their hand over their mouth and leaned back, collapsing onto the floor and waiting for them to take effect.

As the world dimmed and their mind slowed, Hero could feel the cold wooden floorboards soaking up their heat and the soft sound of their heartbeat slowing before everything faded out.

“Well, you look like shit.” Villain said, staring at Hero’s haggard face. “Long night?”

Hero grinned at Villain. “Not long enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Hero leaned on the door, closing their eyes slowly before getting up and walking towards Villain. Villain was about to laugh at their feeble attempts at attacking when Hero suddenly lunged towards Villain.

“We’re really going to do this now? You look like death right now. You know that, right?”

Hero smiled, their eyes still a flat black color. “No shit.” And swung.

Villain stroked Hero’s hair softly, staring at their prone form on the bed. It was laughable, their feeble attempts at attacking. It felt cruel, countering- like taking candy from a baby. Villain stared down at Hero’s face, the normally harsh edges and angles softened by sleep. The dark circles under their eyes were even clearer now that they were relaxed. They’d collapsed only a short while ago, falling to the floor when Villain had used their weakest attack. Damn. It was kind of disappointing- the fights they'd used to have had been full of struggle and fire, each party almost exactly equal in ability. But now... Now, it was so easy it was sad.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Villain looked down again, at the hero so completely at their mercy. It would be so easy. Just put their hands around Hero's neck, a few minutes perhaps of struggling and it would be over. No. Villain could imagine Hero's face, their look of betrayal and hurt stabbing Villain in the heart like nothing else could.

At that moment, Hero groaned, shifting slightly. Villain jumped out of their thoughts, gripping Hero's shoulders and pinning them down to the couch to stop the inevitable struggle. But to Villain's surprise, Hero didn't struggle. They started to move, struggling and thrashing- but their eyes were closed.

"No- No..." Hero murmured, tears leaking out of the corners of their eyes. It shocked Villain, this strange show of emotion. Made them pause, think about Hero's recent behavior.

"Long night?"

"Not enough."

Oh. Villain looked down at Hero again, teardrops quickly turning into streams that ran down their cheeks and dripped onto the pillow in an unsteady rhythm.

"No... Run... run, go-" Hero was muttering again, rolling and clutching at their chest, pulling at their clothes and skin, clutching their neck desperately. They reached up to their shoulders, struggling to pull Villain's hand off their shoulder. "He's coming... He's coming, run-"

Villain lifted their hands off of Hero's shoulder, softly stroking Hero's head.

"Shhhhhh." Hero whimpered, grabbing at Villain's hand again. "You're fine," Villain whispered, slowly brushing their fingers through Hero's hair and quieting them. Hero leaned into the touch, still making small sounds of fear intermittently. The sounds died down slowly and Hero's face seemed to relax, their expression of terror melting slowly into one of peaceful neutrality. Villain kept murmuring to Hero, quietly running their fingers through Hero's hair. "It's okay."

Hero woke up slowly, taking their sweet time and relishing the blissful remnants of a all-too rare rest. God, they hadn't felt this rested since... since before they could stretch their crumbling memory. For the past years, all they could remember, all they could see was fighting and nightmares. The only thing that kept them going was the Villain's threats and challenges, the imminent danger they kept on Hero's back and the rush of the fight. It flooded their mind, consumed them and pushed off the nightmares. Fighting and clawing and grasping at life let Hero live, let them keep going from day to day and keep pushing. There was nothing else, no one else. Just Villain and their battles. But lately, Villain hadn't been fighting back. The nightmares got worse, the panic attacks more and more frequent. Hero could feel their throat constrict, feel their body shut down every second they were awake.

For some reason, though, not today. Not today, not now- for the first time in what felt like years Hero had finally gotten a good rest. Why? As Hero opened their eyes, they felt the warmth of another body next to them. The first thing to register was that signature black hair, so dark that it seemed to suck the light out of the very air next to it. Villain.

They were sleeping, sleeping- Guard down, relaxed and resting next to Hero. Hero, of all people. What...?

Hero could feel their throat constricting. They knew why Villain was sleeping near them. The memory of their blackout, the sensation of dropping into a forced sleep- it was clear, but tucked away in a corner of Hero's mind they really didn't want to explore.

The breaths came faster, slower, faster, filling their chest with a sort of panic that sank to the bottom of their stomach and snaked into a twisted feeling of dread. Villain was, quite clearly, pitying Hero. The villain pities the hero. How sad.

Hero shook their head, gripping it with their hands and squeezing- trying something, anything, to try and crush those thoughts out of existence. Look at you. Such a failure. This is why-

No. No. It wasn't why. That wasn't the reason. Hero knew the reason, knew why, and yet- And yet. And yet. Pathetic. Excuses. Failure. Stupid. Idiot. Weak. Faster and faster and faster.

Pathetic. Failure. Stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Idiot. Disappointment. Failure. Pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic-

Hero felt a hand on their shoulder. A voice, so familiar to Hero's ears but so unfamiliar in its tone. A sort of gentility, a tone of pity filled it.

Pathetic.

No. But Hero couldn't block out the voices, couldn't ignore the fact that their own voice felt like it was strangling them. So they pushed it out, pushed it towards the only other person that Hero could pour the bottled up hate and malice onto. Villain.

"Get off me."

Villain had a half-smile, a sort of confused grin, stuck to their face like plaster.

"What?"

"Don't touch me."

The smile was fading now, disappearing and transforming into that cruel anger Hero knew so well. Strangely, though, through that mask Hero swore they could see a glimpse of hurt. No.

"Wh-"

"You heard me. Are your ears broken? Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me."

"Hero, what's-"

"You're pathetic." The voice slithered out of Hero's mouth, out of their brain, consuming the silence in the room and growing into a hate filled tornado of resentment and rage. "Just like me. Look at us. A couple of fools. You, a villain? Ha! Pathetic. So weak, so stupid." Hero started to cry, tears dripping down their face as they spat hateful words at Villain, angry words full of venom and intentionally misdirected gall. "I'm just like him. So are you. Broken. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathe-" Villain clamped a hand over Hero's mouth. Hero just sat, tears dripping down and dampening Villain's skin. A small voice slipped out between Villain's fingers.

"What else do I have to live for?"

Villain's eyes widened, staring at Hero's twisted face.

"Tell me, Villain. What else is there? I'm nothing. I'm just a failure who happened to catch your attention." Hero laughed bitterly. "God knows why."

Villain shook their head slowly. "There's a reason I chose you. You... You're different. You have purpose. You have a reason."

Hero shook with more silent sobs. "No, I don't."

Villain pulled their hand away, shaking slightly. "You have a reason."

"NO, I DON'T!" Hero screamed, wanting to hit something, hurt something. "EVEN YOU PITY ME. THERE'S NOTHING ELSE. NOTHING!" Hero gasped, struggling for air, struggling to breathe through the tears and the hiccupping sobs that shook their body. "WHAT OTHER PURPOSE DO I SERVE? THERE'S NOTHING."

Villain just pulled Hero closer, holding them tightly to their chest. "You're worth something. You're worth something."

Hero's voice quieted, hoarse and cracking with sorrow, muffled as Hero cried into Villain's shirt, "To who?"

Villain listened to Hero's cries, to their wailing and feeling the tears drip through their shirt. Before answering gently, "To me."

[oddaodd]

Thomas shelby x reader corpse bride quotes tho😳‘I love you Thomas but you are not mine’ ‘you have kept your promise you set me free’ PLZPLZPLZ

I Will Be Your Wine

Warnings : angst

Author´s note: I just want to say I absolutely adore this request because i love The corpse Bride and if I ever get married I fully intent of adding the movie´s vows to my own because they are just so 🥺 , but yeah,  thanks for requesting this and i hope you like it! ❤️

Also, there´s a second part! 

She always knew her marriage to Tommy wasn’t born entirely out of love, but rather of concern and sympathy. Her family had insisted on marrying her to some rich bachelor from Shropshire. A cruel man was how she had described her soon to be husband to her then best friend Thomas who proposed to her that same night promising to never make her feel caged. Just like that he freed her from what would surely be a dreadful life, it was what anybody would do for someone they deeply cared about was what he told himself as he laid in bed that night. Marrying the person he cared about the most in the world was what seemed right, even if he didn’t love he the way he had loved Greta.

All his concerns vanished after they finished saying their vows and kissed. The kiss feeling as a sort of promise to each other that went well beyond marriage. Anybody who saw them would say they were the perfect couple, but they never felt it like so even despite the loving glances and tender words and touches exchanged between the pair.

It was complicated… or well it became complicated when he returned from war. Not a different man, but not quite the same. Cold and indifferent to her. It wasn’t like he was contumelious towards her, but his eyes didn’t look at her the way the used to before the war and suddenly they stopped looking at her, leaving at the crack of dawn and sometimes never arriving home at night.

Y/n didn’t have to guess about his whereabouts, she knew he was with her. The Irish barmaid who seemed to have brought life back to Tommy. It seemed like ages ago When inspector Campbell showed up at y/n’s doorstep Informing her of what he had seen through Grace’s window in hopes that she would tell him where the guns were hidden. Y/n didn’t know what hurt the most, Tommy fucking somebody else when she was worried sick about him at their home or the fact that she didn’t even know about what guns inspector Campbell was talking about.

“Inspector Campbell visited”  she said trying to maintain a cold demeanor as soon as he steeped into their home a day later “Why didn’t you tell me about the fucking guns?”

He sighed taking off his coat and cap “I didn’t want you to get involved”

“What, with your life?!” She asked accusingly, not longer caring about her demeanor. “ I was here at home worried sick and I had to hear it from inspector Campbell that you were with that other woman! And not only that, but that apparently you are hiding some guns the crown wants!!”

“She’s not the other woman” he said, half annoyed, half guiltily not wanting to address the guns.

“You are married to me! She’s the other woman” she sobbed, her anger turning into pain as she turned her back on him. She felt his arms wrapping around her waist but she pushed him away and stormed out of the house. She needed to breathe. When she arrived home after venting out her emotions in an open field, she let him embrace her as he told her everything about the guns.

She put up with it, not knowing where she and Tommy stood, there was a legal paper testifying to their union resting in a cabinet drawer among other legal papers, but she had never felt so far away from him. And yet for a strange reason, they remained married. Maybe because of the comfort they provided for each other, was her guess.  It had  been like that before they got married, the best of friends so, when he proposed she just assumed they would become even closer, if she had only known how wrong she was in assuming so.

It took her a while, but she got around to accepting the realization that they were never meant to be husband and wife. Even after Grace left for America She knew  that her and Tommy’s marriage wouldn’t last forever. The day he was set to turn everything legal for business  he arrived home late at night with dirt on his clothes and all it took was one look at his face for her to know that it would be over.

“She’s pregnant” he confessed.

It didn’t come as a surprise, still she stood where she was not knowing how to digest what she feared would become of Grace´s sojourn in Birmingham at the time becoming a reality instead of just a thought that made her heart ache. He expected her to say something, but she couldn’t find the words.

“Ill provide for her and the child” he said with a strained voice looking at the ground.

“But that’s not what you want” she said in a whisper of acceptance and realization “you want to build a life with her”

He walked over to her and engulfed her in an intoxicating hug. It was the truth. “Ill provide for you” he said.

“I don’t want you to provide for me” she sighed and took a deep breath bracing herself for what she would do next ”I love you Tommy, but you are not mine”

She parted a bit  from the hug so she could look into his eyes which were also glossy with tears by then “And because I love you I want you to be happy” a sob escaping her throat at her words “And I know that she will make you happy”

He held her face in his hands conflict scattered on his face as he dried the tears running down her face. “Im sorry, I’m so sorry” and he was sorry, he wished he could love her like she deserved to be loved.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You kept your promise, you set me free” she said grabbing one of his hands in hers “I’ll go somewhere nice, you know I’ve always wanted to travel the world”

He chuckled tearily and traced the ring he had put on her finger many years ago.

“I’ll keep it, but I won’t wear it anymore” she said with a sad smile knowing that she would miss him to an agonizing extent.

“I’ll do the same with mine” he vowed knowing that in a way they would always be tied together by a bond stronger than marriage.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy​

@peakyxtommy​

[julyarchives]

Don’t You Hear Me Howling? || (M) || 08

Finding out you are a female Alpha sparkled some rivalry inside your pack, and resulted in you losing your best friend and your life turning upsidedown, so leaving for college was the fresh start you needed. Years later, you are about to finish your degree and suddenly this past comes back to mess with your head.

→ Pairing: Yeo One x Female Reader | Kino x Female Reader

→ Genre: A/B/O AU; Omegaverse; College AU.

→ Words:  3.8K

→ Contains: mentions of alcohol; wolf shifting; some Alpha-Alpha tension; Y/N making out with a special guest 👀; smut; Jealousy

→ A/n: Thus was supposed to be posted yesterday, but we sort of got lost in the calendar, so here it is now (oops?) we hope it isn't too lame and you guys like it! Also, as mentioned in the warning, there is a special appearance heheh.

→ Index: 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • 06 • 07 • 08

As much fun and easygoing as things were for you, you felt glad for the holidays break. You got out of the cab and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of the reservation forest that boarded the neighborhood.

Every year your pack has their own ritual to celebrate your ancestors during the holiday, and you were actually looking forward to participating this year, after missing it since you started college, for many personal reasons - and one of them included a very difficult talk with your parents. Also, so much has happened this semester that being in the small city allowed you to breathe some fresh air and organize your thoughts.

Your parent’s received you immediately as you went through the front door, with big hugs and wide smiles.

“It’s so good to have you home” your mom patted your head, her small frame making her reach high to do so.

“Let me take your stuff to your room” Your dad grabbed your luggage and turned around to take them upstairs

“Oh, it’s fine, I can take them” You tried to stop him, but he pretended he didn’t listen. But you knew he loved feeling like the man of the house. You redirected yourself to your mom “I think I could use a shower and a nap, the trip was too long.”

“Of course, honey, I’ll call you for lunch.”

You crossed paths with your dad in the doorway, who offered a small smile. He wasn’t very fond of small talk, so that was usual of him. You closed the door behind you and sat on the edge of the twin bed centered on the room. You looked around and took in the scent of your old home, which immediately brought back so many memories.

Before you left for college, you and Changgu were on bad terms, so there weren't pictures of you together anymore, but you could still see the tape marks on where they used to be glued on your old vanity mirror. You also remembered perfectly which drawer you have tucked them away, the one that you were currently staring at, contemplating taking a look at them. In the end, you just shook the idea off of you and followed what you’ve told your mom.

The day was rather quiet and peaceful, the big event being held in the night, and the talk you were dreading could wait after the celebrations. Your parents had visited you in college a couple of times, and you have visited them too, but it was rare, never for the holidays, so they prepared a special family lunch and you couldn’t deny that you had a good time being around them.

All the pack had gathered in a big clearing at night to celebrate, and the bonfire already burned high. You could feel all the attention shifting to you as you arrived, your dominant scent overpowering everyone else's, and you held yourself high.

The day you left the city you promised yourself to never get close to this pack again. They’ve ignored you and diminished you as an Alpha, and you knew this place wasn’t for you. They were all surprised to see you back, they could barely hide it, but every time you made eye contact with someone, they quickly turned away avoiding you.

You didn’t hide, not ashamed of you or your choices, but it was rather uncomfortable, the tension almost palpable in the air. You quickly grabbed your phone and texted Wooseok.

“ Please tell me you headed back town for the holidays”

To which he quickly replied

“I actually came to a friend’s house, I’m not there, sorry :(“

You sighed. The cold weather wasn’t so bad, the cool breeze was blowing softly and the fire kept the place warm if you got close enough. Your parents stopped along the way to say hi to their friends, but you followed closer to the bonfire, where your eyes quickly met the current Alpha.

For a moment you had forgotten he was Changgu’s father, but seeing him immediately brought the information back to you. They looked alike so much, the same eyes full of expression and sharp jawline. He was staring at you, not so happily, and nodded when you looked at him. Your expression could be sour, you weren’t sure how much you were holding back, but you respectfully nodded back.

He sustained the stare a couple more seconds, so did you, but soon he was calling everyone’s attention. Everyone gathered close and his wife stood by his side. That’s when you saw Changgu, getting close to his father with a stoic expression on his face.

You shoved your hands in the pocket of your jacket and offered a half-smile when he noticed you. At first, he seemed confused but returned the gesture

“Brothers and sisters” The senior Alpha called “tonight we celebrate the ones who have left us. Our ancestors passed us their wisdom,” He spoke firmly and slowly, looking around at everyone. “Their strength lives in us, and so we honor them with our nature.”

There was a long speech about union and tradition that to you it sounded too much like hypocrisy since the traditions would include you, supposedly the next Alpha of the pack, to be standing there as a successor. You did not bother, because you expected nothing else.

The leader of the pack was the first to turn. His skin shredded, giving space for the long dark brown and silver fur to grow as a howl echoed loudly, bringing out everyone’s instinct, but especially your Alpha ones, and soon you had shifted.

This was one of the reasons you wanted to come. Being in university has you taking suppressants daily, so letting yourself run free was like getting rid of tight clothes that restricted your movements. You howled loudly to follow the collective chant, an ode to the departed ones, a hymn for the pack, the freedom of instinct.

The pack’s Alpha ran in the front, leading everyone with his big frame. Changgu followed him, and it’s been so many years since you’ve seen his wolf form that you felt surprised. He was bulky and big, his posture very imponent, and you stopped to admire it for a second.

The run was freeing. The wind hiding your wolf nozzle, pushing your fur back, your paws hitting the dirt. You needed that, and just letting yourself act on your instincts was the best thing you could grant yourself at that moment.

Reaching the highest point of the forest, the collective howling restarted. You stopped right next to Changgu, whose wolf eyes watched you intently, and in wordless communication, you howled together, allowing the instinct to speak for yourselves.

…

After the traditional pack run, a feast was hosted by the Alpha, usually in his house, which was big enough to fit everyone comfortably in the large backyard.

Everyone happily celebrated what was the closest to a wolf Christmas, with an abundance of food for everyone. You sat with your parents at the assigned table, attending the event quietly, holding yourself back just enough to not drag any more attention than you were already getting. Mr. Yeo, the Alpha, customarily greeted every individual, and when he approached you and your family, you stood up and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you for having us" your father shook his hands

"It's my pleasure," Mr. Yeo politely answered, "I didn't expect your daughter to come."

He talked about you like you weren't there, and you were pretty sure that was purposefully meant to challenge your position.

"I came to pay respects to the tradition, sir" you opened a forced smile. A damn good one. "Can't let that behind me."

His eyes snapped in your direction with intensity, letting the impassive expression on his face falter for a second.

"Of course" he smoldered, masking it with a smile probably just as fake as yours.

To him, you represented a threat to his family's legacy, so it wasn't a big secret that he isn't very fond of you.

"I hope you enjoy the party," he said to you and your parents altogether, but redirected the last sentence at you "if there's anything you need, just tell me and I can provide."

"Of course, thank you so much" your mom answered gladly. She followed her leader with passion and always tried to be in good graces with him, so she's always been strict in the sense of community tradition and formalities.

"No need to thank me, ma'am" he smirked "that's just an Alpha job"

The provocation was like a punch in the gut. Ever since you were revealed an Alpha, Mr. Yeo tried to do everything in his power to deprive you of your given rights inside the pack. He raised Changgu to take his place and hated your guts for ruining his plans. He was a man of power and didn't appreciate when someone threatened that position.

"Y/N…" your mom called you with a warning tone to her voice.

You didn't notice how you were instinctively growling, low enough for only people close to the table to hear, but your Alpha emotion was strong enough to cause some heads to turn in your direction.

Mr. Yeo, of course, smiled in victory from a distance, happy to make you look bad in front of the community.

"You really don't care that he does everything to undermine me, do you?" You said to both of your parents.

"Honey, he's the Alpha." Your mom said calmly "everything he does is to protect you. Is the best for everyone."

"You do know I'm an Alpha too, right?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

They both stayed quiet. You looked at your dad, hoping he would say something in your favor, but he just complies with your mom's orderly silence.

"Yeah, thanks," you said, standing up and leaving.

Growing up you used to love being with your pack these kinds of celebrations were your favorite time of the year.  But now everything changed and suddenly you felt so misplaced that you felt like you didn't know anyone anymore. You knew all your neighbors, and their kids who went to school with you, but now they were almost complete strangers to you.

You grabbed a bottle of beer and looked around for the only familiar face you could find there. Changgu was not running Alpha errands with his dad, so when you found him he was surrounded by a group of girls, apparently younger than you, swooning at every charming smile of his, and you could just see how much he adored all the attention. You chuckled at his fuckboy attitude and the poor deluded girls who had a crush on him, hoping to get the son of the Alpha in love with them.

"Y/n?" You heard your name being called, taking you always from your thoughts.

The boy who called you was tall and slim, a long-ish hair half up in a ponytail and he looked happy to see you.

"Hey…?" You said with uncertainty, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar, but you just couldn't remember his name

"Hyunjin" he chuckled "I don't know if you remember me, but we went to school together."

"Right, Hyunjin, of course, I remember!" It finally clicked to you. Hyunjin was an omega, a few years younger than you but you two used to share some clubs in high school, but he didn't look so… hot. "You look so different, sorry it took me a while to recognize you."

"Yeah," he laughed shyly, scratching the back of his head. "I haven't seen you since you left for college. You look great"

His flirtatious half-smirk was very obvious and you actually thought he looked quite cute.

"You look great yourself" you bit your bottom lip, looking him up and down "But yeah, I kind of focused on graduating rather than coming here."

"I'm glad you're here now." He fully smirked this time "wanna go somewhere quieter? I'd love to catch up with you"

You felt hesitant at first, and you looked back to find Changgu again, and this time one of the girls was grabbing his arm, running his hand all over it. You wanted company for the party, and since Changgu was busy flirting, why shouldn't you do the same?

"Of course, let's do it." You took one last sip of your beer and linked arms with him.

He guided you around the house to the front porch, where you rested your elbows and watched the quiet street. Hyunjin had his back against it, looking at you.

You two actually did some catching up, and even exchanged numbers. You found out Hyunjin also went away for college, but he always came back for the holidays and breaks, and stuff like that, but nothing you were really paying attention to.

"You know, I have to confess something." He said, straightening his posture "I sort of had a crush on you, back in the days"

"Really?" You laughed softly, amused at the sudden confession. "Why didn't you say something, then?"

"Ah," he clicked his tongue. "Everyone knew you only had eyes for Changgu."

You rolled your eyes involuntarily.

"C'mon, everyone knew that, and Changgu didn't let anyone get close to you"

You were actually surprised to hear that since this wasn't something he ever told you but explained why you weren't popular with boys in high school.

"Well," you stood up and stopped directly in front of him "I don't see Changgu anywhere now, do you?"

Hyunjin grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your hands held the collar of his jacket.

"I guess I should shoot my shot, then" he licked his lips, alternating looks between your eyes and lips.

"What are you waiting for, big boy?" You challenged him.

He reached forward, kissing you rather urgently. His plumpy lips felt soft against yours, and he was a really good kisser. He pulled you against him, and you intertwined your fingers on the loose hair behind his neck. He gasped when you tugged on it, and you grinned into the kiss for getting a good reaction out of him. His hands sneaked down your waist, boldly squeezing your ass as the kiss got more intense, and he earned a shy hum of satisfaction out of you.

The noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted you two, making both of your heads snap in its direction, but neither of you really letting go of each other.

"Y/N" Changgu called you rather sternly, with a matching frown on his face. "I need you to help me deal with some stuff"

You sighed.

"Looks like some things didn't change, did they?" Hyunjin whispered just for you to hear,

"I'm not done with you yet." You whispered back, nibbling his earlobe.

"Now." Changgu interrupted again.

You pecked Hyunjin's lips before detangling from him, only then noticing that his hands were still in your ass.

"Text me, ok?" You said to him loudly as you followed Changgu inside the house.

He walked large steps and didn't bother looking behind to see if you were following.

"You couldn't have picked a worse moment to need me to deal with some bullshit, could you?" You whined, but he still paid no attention to you "all night, I was there doing absolutely nothing, and when I finally started to have some fun you decided I was important enough to attend whatever this is."

You babbled but still, he didn't respond, and you just kept following him around corridors in the big house, finally entering a dark room

"What is so important anyway that you had to call me so urgently-"

Changgu interrupted you when he pushed you against the door, making it slam loudly, his lips crashing against yours with a certain vigor.

At first, your eyes widened in surprise, and you pushed him back to look at him, but his hold on you didn't loosen up.

"What the fuck, Changgu?"

"Just," he stopped to think, breath already heavy in anticipation "shut up"

He resumed kissing you, and this time you rolled with it because, you couldn't deny, kissing him was something you ever saw yourself getting tired of. He pressed his whole body against yours, grinding on you making you gasp every time his thigh in between your legs rubbed against your clothed core.

"Fuck, Changgu" you said when he attacked your neck.

You pull the hair on his nape, making him look at you

"Is that what this is about?" You asked, forcing yourself to think straight "you can't bear the thought of me fucking someone else?"

Rather than answering, Changgu just growled, making you laugh ironically

"So you can flirt with all those pretty girls out there," you raised your eyebrows, "but I can not hook up with people? As if, Changgu"

You weren't as mad as much as you were enjoying taunting him for being so desperate to have you his.

"Just shut up, for fucks sake" he rolled his eyes and picked you, only to throw you on the bed behind him.

You finally recognized Changgu's old bedroom, with the light that came from the window above it. It was different, with no more posters taped to the wall or the action figures he liked to collect. It was a simple room with minimal decoration now.

"Gonna break another bed, wolfie?" You teased "I don't think daddy would be very happy to know you're fooling around with the Alpha"

He growled loudly, hooking his hands around your legs and pulling you closer to him, your bottom hitting his knees, which were pressed against the mattress. He leaned down and viciously kissed you, nibbling and ducking your bottom lip.

"You know, you're way hotter when your mouth is shut" he panted in between kisses.

Having turned into wolves mere hours ago had all your instincts right under the skin. The dominance, the connection between you and your Beta, the lust. Everything was on edge and you guessed that's why Changgu was so desperate.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down with your underwear in one swift motion while you took off your shirt, revealing your bare breasts underneath it. Changgu licked his lips and chuckled cockly when he ran a finger down your slit, showing you how wet you already were.

He took his shirt off, but didn't bother with his pants, and leaned back down to lick a long stripe of your juices, brushing softly on your clit on the way.

You moaned weakly.

"I'll show you why you're better here than with the what's-his-name out there." He said in a low husky voice.

He kept his hand around your legs and captured your sensitive nub in between his lips, making you buck your hips and grab his hair in response.

His back muscles were on display for you and it was hot to watch it contract and relax as he moved in between your legs.

"You're so eager for me, aren't you?" You teased him again and he hummed, sending vibrations down your core. "Do your worst, let me see if you're worth my time"

He leaned back up and you hated the loss of contact, but he quickly spun you around and pulled your hips up exposing your ass to him, and a harsh slap sting on your skin, accompanied by his deep growling that he didn't seem to have control over, and you yelped at the burning pain.

You heard him fumbling with his belt and soon he was entering you with no warning, making you bury your head in the pillow to muffle a loud moan. He didn't give you any time to adjust as he pounded into you fast, showing his desperation. He angled his hips just right to hit the perfect spot inside you to make you scream.

For a second you were afraid someone would hear you, but the backyard was not that close to the bedroom, and you tried to suppress your noises the best you could. Changgu seemed to be out of control with the way he hissed and moaned, your name falling out of his lips here and there.

A sloppy rushed fuck was not on your plans tonight but, fuck, it felt good. Changgu was getting sloppier by the minute and you just knew he wouldn't last long. You reached in between your legs and circled around your glistening clit, realizing you were in no better state than he was.

The closer you felt to your high, the more you squeezed your walls around Changgu's member, and the louder he moaned.

"Are you trying to get us caught?" You managed to say "such a loud wolf."

He didn't respond, too focused on fucking you, but he didn't get quieter.

You fastened your movements and had again your head buried in the pillow, moaning freely as you reached your orgasm, your whole body vibrating in pleasure. Changgu started thrusting faster, gripping your hips harder and pulling you against him to meet his thrust, and soon enough you felt his seed dripping down your thighs, strangled noises caught in his throat as he rode his high.

You relaxed your body when he pulled out of you, laying down with your stomach against the mattress, crossing your arms under your head for support. Changgu threw himself by your side, facing the ceiling and panting, looking fucked out already.

"Jealous wolf, aren't we?" You tapped his chest, provoking him

"Shut up" he chuckled

"How many girls did you fuck in this bedroom anyway? You were quite popular with the ladies back in high school. I bet they all died to be in Yeo Changgu's bedroom" you mocked a dreamy-girly voice.

"Do you really want to talk about who I fucked in high school?" He chuckled.

"Well, someone had to get laid, right? Since I couldn't because someone told boys to stay away from me." You smirked at his embarrassed expression

"Hyunjin is such a snitch, he was never good enough for you" he rolled his eyes and looked away.

"And who is? You?" You scoffed

"I didn't hear you complaining when you were screaming against the pillow just now"

You slapped his chest and he laughed loudly

"Jerk" you mumbled.

"Guess you can go back to your pretty boy out there", he said in a teasing voice, "if you're still interested, that is".

"So cocky, aren't you?", he laughed at your mocking expression.

"Maybe. But we still have festivities to attend".

"Unfortunately".

You got dressed in comfortable silence and after a few minutes, you were good to go. Changgu stood by the door and smiled at you before opening it and waving for you to walk by him. As you walked out, a satisfied smile took over your face and you only hoped people wouldn't notice the smell of sex on you too much. You and Changgu parted ways and for a second you let the whole tension of your body relax during the holiday. Just for a while.

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 1:

Gif credit: @tommyshelbcy

Warnings: Mentions of stalking/blood

Word count: 1363

———

"The end is in the beginning and lies far ahead." - Ralph Ellison

———

"Haley, listen, I'm gonna have to call you back, I'm about to meet with him right now."

"Oh my God, you always do this, Aaron, you promised we-"

"- Yeah, we will, I promise but I really gotta go. Bye." He rushes out in a low voice as he sets the telephone down. He gathers himself, buttoning his suit jacket as he strides confidently towards the steps, butterflies in his stomach.

His first official assignment, and he was determined to make it count. Months of gruelling training, exams and physicals were finally going to allow him to get his foot in the door and get to where he wanted to be. He takes a steadying breath before knocking on the door three times and waiting for the voice inside.

"Yeah. Come in." Barnes lifts his gaze from the paperwork he was engrossed in to beckon Aaron forward. "Take a seat."

"Yes sir, you wanted to see me?" He wrings his hands unconsciously.

He sees the bright eyed agent’s behaviour betraying him and smiles knowingly. “It's alright, no need to be nervous, son. This here's good news for you. In fact, these are your transcripts and reports I'm looking at." He smiles. "You were one of the most promising cadets during your training stint, and the work I've seen from you so far is more than I'd expect from a fairly new recruit."

Hotch lets out a half- breath, half laugh of relief as he lets his shoulders relax. "Thank you, sir. It means a lot coming from you." He smiles almost bashfully, the words ringing unfamiliar in his ears. Praise had always been a foreign concept to him thus far.

"Not so fast, I still need to tell you why I called you in today." He sets his pen down now, looking Hotch in the eyes as he tells him, "your talent hasn't gone unnoticed, which is why I'm assigning you to the personal and home security detail of the US Ambassador of France while he's stateside."

His heart pounds. Barnes' talk of his team and responsibilities feel far away now and Aaron tries to rapidly take in everything that he's saying. This is it. The opportunity he'd been waiting for to prove himself as an agent of the bureau and not just a trainee. Barnes brings him out his mind by asking him if he has any questions and tells him to go meet with his new team. He shakes Barnes' hand and thanks him for the opportunity, before quickly excusing himself.

Barnes interrupts him as he's leaving. He turns to face his superior as he tells him, "I'm trusting you on this one, Hotchner. The Ambassador will explain when you meet him but this one's personal."

"Yes, Sir." He ducks his head out of respect and turns to leave to be briefed with his team.

————

"Alright everybody, you know the drill. Make your introductions, follow protocol and see the Ambassador's staff for your assignments." McCall commands over the comms.

He directs Aaron to take the next left as the SUV's pull into the driveway of the sprawling estate, lined with perfectly groomed grass and trees. As they step out of the cars, the double doors open as your father and his assistants step out. A large man in stature, the Ambassador demands attention but his smile is welcoming - warm, even. Eight agents in total make their way over the man as he walks them through the grand foyer of the home.

Hotch has a strange feeling in his stomach, half excitement, half dread. He feels out of his depth. Small. And he doesn't like that feeling.

Niceties exchanged and introductions made, the Ambassador beckons McCall over to him while the other agents speak with his staff. McCall leans over and tells Aaron to come with him as the three of them step into an office.

"Sir, it's lovely to see you again. This is Agent Hotchner, the one Agent Barnes told you about." McCalls explains. Hotch steps forward to offer your father a firm handshake but still doesn't quite understand what is happening as he looks around confused.

The Ambassador lets out a short laugh. "I take it Barnes didn't quite explain the scope of your duties here. He has a tendency to be quite dramatic."

Hotch shakes his head as he laughs slightly, and explains that he was told he would be informed of his duties once the initial meeting had taken place.

"Well, alongside the standard home and personal security, I have an additional, sort of special request." The Ambassador takes a beat and asks McCall and Aaron to take a seat. "My daughter, she-. She was due to take off to Yale this summer, but it appears that somebody has been following her. And for some time."

He pulls out his desk drawer and takes two Manila folders, placing them in front of McCall and Hotch. "As you can see these photos go back to last summer, outside of my daughter's apartment, the gym, her school." He rubs a hand over his stubbled chin and sighs. "Then came the mysterious packages delivered to her door. Sometimes flowers, her favourite chocolates, jewellery. And then the notes."

The two agents flick through the folder to find photocopies of notes, dotted with specks of blood. Hotch mumbles the last words written on one of the notes. "Watch me earn you."

"That last note was delivered with all of the pictures of my daughter. It's because of this, that I advised my daughter to defer for a year, until we can find this man and asked her to move back home, here with me." He looks tired.

Hotch looks from McCall to the Ambassador and back again in confusion. "Pardon me, Sir, and I mean no disrespect at all, but why me? I'm still fairly new at this, and while I would be honoured to take this on, I just want to make sure that you think I'm the right man for the job."

"Well, I know you've taken the profiling course over at Quantico and you come highly recommended from Barnes." He reassures Hotch. "I have faith in you and McCall. Your job is twofold I suppose, as well as providing a security detail, you'll also be tasked with investigating this whole thing and getting to the bottom of this person's identity. And because of your age, the person who's following my daughter will simply think you're a new friend instead of law enforcement."

It finally sinks in for Hotch now. He nods his agreement slowly and thanks him for the opportunity. There's a knock at the door and the Ambassador calls out for whoever is on the other end to come in.

"Ah speaking of my daughter, here she is!" He stands up with a smile. McCall and Hotch turn to face you as you walk into the room and close the door behind you. you feel a pair of eyes following you as you do. The agents both stand as your father makes his way over to you to hug you. "We were just talking about you sweetheart." He tells you as he places a kiss on your temple.

"All good things, I hope!" You tease as you step forward to shake their hands and introduce yourself. You shake Agent Hotchner's hand as he towers over you, holding your gaze, your hand small in his. "Call me Aaron. Or Hotch, whichever works." He chuckles.

You smile as you share a moment but he looks down quickly and lets go of your hand. He's handsome, you think. He stands at 6'2 with broad shoulders and chest, dressed in a suit and tie and his slight beard and fluffy hair gives him a rugged look. His cheekbones and jawline are sharp and he has a disarming smile.

"These are the agents I told you about, honey. They'll be accompanying you while we get to the bottom of this." Your father says.

"Yes ma'am, rest assured we will do everything we can to catch this man." Hotch says as he looks into your eyes, his gaze flickering to your lips for a quick second before looking away.

This should be interesting, you think.

<Prev | > Next

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 6: Inferno.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, conditioning, noncon touching (non-sexual), implied noncon (sexual), dehumanization, electrocution, shock collar, beating, gaslighting, manipulation, restraints, extreme control of food/exercise for appearance, mention of passing out/vomiting due to exercise/restricted diet, controlling whumper, multiple whumpers, possessive whumper, masked whumper, letmeknowifimissedany

The next day, I wake up before August. He’s starfished on his back, feet, and one hand hanging off the bed. He looks even younger asleep, with freckles scattered across his nose, long eyelashes, and not much facial hair for a man who hasn’t had the chance to shave in a handful of days. The stubble that is there is even lighter than his hair, tending toward blondish rather than auburn. He sits up ramrod straight and groggy as hell when the keyring clangs against the outside of the metal door.

“Let’s go, Princess,” one of the goonies drones as he opens it. It’s Darius, but for some reason, he’s wearing a ski mask.

Weirdo. Did you just come from robbing a bank?

Maybe the mask means they’re planning to let August go, a good thing. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone, but I still feel a bitter pang of jealousy. I don’t look back at him as I walk out.

Wyatt is waiting for me in his office, upstairs. He’s already cleared his desk for me. There are gauzy curtains in front of the windows so I can’t see the view but I always look forward to the daylight. Today, it’s muted like it might be overcast or raining. I strain to listen to see if I can hear it on the windows.

“Come here,” he says, standing and patting the desk in front of him.

I walk over, trying to read into his expression and tone. It’s never easy to tell what I’m in for because he’s so calculating. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen him lose control of himself in all these years. I sit up on the desk. He steps in between my knees so we’re eye-to-eye, tucks my hair behind both ears, and puts his hands on my thighs. Close enough that he can inhale every minute expression on my face and in my eyes like I’m shotgunning him.

“How do you like your new roommate?” he asks.

I’d shrug if it were allowed. There’s a remote to the collar in the pocket of his blazer. Instead, I just blink at him. Does it matter? Either way, he won’t be around very long.

Wyatt nods like I really did just answer him. “He made some poor choices last night. You were perfect, putting up with all of that.” He lifts his hand to the side of my neck, thumbing the collar through my shirt. “A little healthy fear will set him straight. I bought a new belt just for the occasion.”

Christ. I work to keep my face neutral.

Beatings have never been his M.O. with me. Except to make sure the silence was deep enough that not a damn thing earthside would illicit a fucking peep out of me, but he made it a point not to leave scars. He wants my body as perfect as my behavior. Otherwise, it’s all about the mind for this lunatic. Patient enough to find the trigger that will have me agreeing all on my own. He feels powerful, and I guess he is, for knowing just how to frame things, pinpointing what I want and need, even if I don’t realize.

“When it turned out he’d be staying longer than intended, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He’s just too perfect,” Wyatt purrs.

What the fuck does that mean?

Wyatt stays silent and goes on reading my face while my thoughts snowball.

Shit. Why are you smiling at me like that?

Finally, he seems to have his fill of my reactions and squeezes my thigh. “It’s been quite a while since you took that many shocks, Emmy, and I can’t have you being stiff later,” he tells me, then pulls a tablet out of the desk drawer. “Do a yin yoga class—you haven’t eaten enough for anything else.”

I dip my head once in a nod.

He runs his thumb along my jaw before moving so I can hop off the desk.

The yoga is part of a whole distorted regimen. Wyatt wants my skeletal frame toned and flexible. “Not just skin and bones,” he says, but then goes on feeding me one meal a day. There’s no way he doesn’t calorie count the shit out of everything that passes my lips to elicit what he wants but it’s never enough to truly exercise on. He’s had me try other things but I’d just pass out or throw up and he wasn’t willing to adjust the input to equal the output. I love the yoga anyway.

The clothes he has me wear are skin tight and all black because boy does he love to watch me move. “You’re so graceful,” he’ll croon, admiring his maintenance of my figure. In the beginning, I wasn’t flexible enough for his liking, so he’d push me in the stretches until I thought my muscles would snap. Sometimes he’ll have some look-the-other-way woman come in and wax every surface below my neck so that in a black yoga bra and practically-underwear shorts, I shine. Then, he’ll have me to do all sorts of other things.

—

When I finish the video, an hour long, he waves me back over. He’s been watching me the whole time, a serene look on his face. He has me sit in front of him on the desk again. Prefers me up here, all within reach and eye-level. Carlos brings in our lunch in paper bags. It’s an endless rotation of delivery and takeout here. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a kitchen. Wyatt passes me a compostable bowl with a plastic lid. He knows this is one of my favorites.

I narrow my eyes.

The shit-eating grin comes back.

I don’t turn down the food though, despite the twisting in my stomach. Hunger strikes result in having a tube shoved down my throat. After all, my body is his wonderland. He eats a burrito, reclined in the chair with his feet on the desk next to me. Sips Coke out of a glass bottle and passes it to me. Purses his lips while he watches me hold it by the neck and take a swig before I hand it back. It fizzes down my throat sweetly.

Fuck, what is he planning?

It’s not strange to eat together or share a drink, but there’s something in his eyes today. An extra sparkle of anticipation. Last time he was like this, I wound up hanging from the ceiling for half a day. Contorted by silk rope knots into a goddamn living chandelier. The goonies had express permission to carry me after that one on account of my limbs turning to pins-and-needles jello.

After I finish eating, he tells me to find a book to pass the time. “I won’t have you getting sick later,” he says, pulling his phone out, dismissing me.

I move my ass before he moves it for me even though my sense of dread is deepening. I’ve made a fair dent in his library by now. Naturally, being a psychopath, Wyatt is well-read and intelligent. Lots of philosophy, social theory, plenty of psychology (but I feel like those must be a trap so I avoid them), books in other languages, and classic literature. I find it a little one-sandwich-short-of-a-picnic-basket that he wants his effectively-mute captive to also be well-read but it’s beyond me to try to understand his depraved logic.

—

When he’s decided it’s time, he stands and walks over to where I’m curled up in the armchair by the bookcase. “Let’s get you ready,” he says, holding out his hand and leading me over to his desk.

My pulse hammers in my throat.

He picks up a crisp sopping bag, pulls out folded black clothes. I usually change after I shower but it’s always a roll of the dice with Wyatt, especially in this kind of mood. I’m surprised when he starts putting the clothes on over what I’m already wearing. It’s baggy sweatpants and a hoodie—also black—and then some sneakers. I can’t remember the last time I wore shoes. Next, he pulls a little case out of the bag and opens it to reveal earbuds.

Oh, hell. Not again.

We’ve done this before. He took me out to some fluorescent superstore, spread his goonies around on video calls to record me, and sat in the fast-food restaurant with his laptop. Read me a shopping list and watched me sweat through it. I nearly had a conniption at the register. It was one of three times he’s ever taken me out.

Wyatt smirks at the misgivings playing across my face and passes me an elastic for my hair. I pull it all into a low, tight bun and then he uses first-aid tape to secure the headphone inside my ear. I’d never dream of removing it myself, and he knows that, so whatever is about to happen to me puts it at risk of falling out. I haven’t felt this scared in a while and it’s making him smile even more.

I know being hopeless but no longer frightened provides an irresistible challenge. It’s not like I can help being resigned to his life for me, exactly as he intended. He doesn’t want me shitting-my-pants-afraid. It’s not about that. He could have made me vacant, and not just silent if he’d wanted but there’s a thrilling risk to pushing me. My psyche is his game of Jenga and he never loses. He knows how to manipulate, balance, and finesse every piece so that I’ll only ever wobble, dangerously close to collapse but always just shy, leaving him infinitely validated. So, I know he’d never put me in a position to truly break but I still fear the magnitude of the wobble. And the duration.

Wyatt has handed me gloves and is now holding up the last item from the bag. A clown mask.

Oh, god. Are we actually robbing someplace?

If I weren’t wearing so many clothes, I would be convinced I was in for some twisted, kinky shit, especially with these gloves. He ties the mask securely behind my head and I’m already sweating under the foamy rubber just imagining silently holding someone up. With a loaded weapon in my hand.

Fuck, Wyatt. Seriously?

He traces his fingers down my arms, pulling up my hands and helping me off the desk. Holding my arms out and looking me over like he’s seeing his prom date’s outfit for the first time and just knows that he’ll get to take it all off later. He drops my hands and pulls the hood of the sweatshirt over my head.

“Perfect,” he purrs and leads me down the hallway toward a door I haven’t entered in a very long time. I’m wearing too many clothes for what that room is usually used for. I hope.

Wyatt moves in front of me and pulls me close so our noses almost touch, lowers his voice in a way that is far from soothing. “If I’m not happy, with any aspect of your performance, I will personally tenfold it. Understood?” He searches my eyes one at a time. Left to right and back again.

I nod, stomach already somewhere by my feet.

He leaves me in the little hall, alone. There’s a yellow light bulb underneath a metal cage on the wall.

Sonofabitch. I’m terrified.

Naturally, I don’t move until Wyatt's voice comes over the headphone in my ear. “Go in. Close the door behind you.”

Calm down, Emma, you just have to survive this one thing right now. How bad can it be?

I take a deep breath and open the door, step in, and close it softly behind me, not sure what is waiting for me since it’s dark. My eyes don’t have time to adjust before the lights flick on.

All my blood runs cold. This is undeniably the ninth circle of Hell.

Wyatt lets me stand there, frozen, and unable to pull air into my lungs, for more than a few of my stuttering heartbeats before he finally gives me my next command,

“Emma, pick up the belt.”

Previous — Masterlist — Next

Taglist: @deluxewhump

[ahockeywrites]

Is that a drawing of me?

You sighed. Your professor set you an assignment to draw something that makes you smile. His suggestions included a pet, a sport or a loved one. Naturally, the first thing that came to your head was your boyfriend, the resident pest of Calgary, Matthew Tkachuk. The only problem you had, is that drawing faces was your weakness when it came to your artwork. It wasn’t that you couldn’t draw faces, if it was a life or death situation, yes, you could draw a face. However, when compared to your nature drawings, they were second best.

“So, are we gonna get a drawing of Mr Hockey hotshot this time?” your friend Anna asked. You looked at her with a look only she could read. Realistically, the answer should have easily been yes, but your worry of making him look bad was heightening your anxiety.

“It’s an idea, but you know how I was in our portraits module. How can I do the man I love justice when I can barely draw someone with straight hair,” you said as you slumped into the chair in the small coffee shop. “His curls will be the death of me.” Taking a small sip of your coffee, you noticed a text from the devil himself.

Matty: Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m back from practice now! Let me know what you want to do for dinner :) x

You: Urm… I’m good for anything? Something quick bc I’ve got college work to do x

Anna could tell that you were talking to Matt, solely by the way that your face lit up whenever you two spoke. “But, who or what else would you draw?  I mean, I’m planning on doing my family by the lake back home, if that helps?” Anna offered. You knew she was just trying to help, but you had to draw Matthew. You had skirted around it before but you had decided.

“I’m gonna draw him, but hopefully not too well,” you said, “I can’t inflate his ego any more. I think Brady and Taryn would want words with me.” The two of you giggled, knowing that anything that made him look too good in his eyes would just make his head grow 20 sizes.

“Yes my love!!” Anna exclaimed, “shall we stop by the art store before art history?”

“I think I’m gonna need to,” you explained, “I need some new canvases and a lot of red pencils if he’s gonna be in Calgary gear.”

The two of you left the coffee shop for the nearby warehouse full of art supplies. It was just off campus and offered a generous student discount to almost anyone. You wandered down by the canvases, trying to figure out which size would be right for your latest piece. Too small and the picture would look cramped, too large and the image could look out of proportion. Eventually, you settled on a relatively large one and by this time had picked up some very Calgary appropriate red and black pencils. You also spotted a scrapbook that looked perfect to start filling with photos of you and Matthew.

Scrapbooking was something you had always wanted to get into, but it never came up in your studies and you always thought that you should practice line art or painting. But with your second anniversary coming up, it was something you could do in your downtime to relax but also create something beautiful. All you had to do was get a few rolls of washi tape and some photo corners. Everything else, if you had forgotten it, could easily be ordered later.

2 hours and $150 later, you exited the store with Anna and headed to your final lecture of the day. Now, just because you enjoyed both art and history did not mean that you enjoyed the combination of the two. Especially when the professor decided that it would be fun to set a 2000 word essay on the Renaissance period. “I cannot wait for this day to be over,” Anna spoke aimlessly.

“Honestly, same, hopefully Matt has got some food ready for when I’m back,” you hoped, no, prayed to someone above that he had actually made something and hadn’t burnt down your apartment. “I’m gonna head off now, but text me updates of your portrait?” you asked Anna. She nodded and you started your short walk from campus to the apartment.

15 minutes later, you arrived home and tumbled through the door. The smell of something baked filled your nostrils. “Matty baby?” you called out, hoping he would hear you and give you a hand with all the supplies you had bought.

“Y/N!” he called, coming to the hallway. “Need a hand?” he asked, but the two of you knew it was rhetorical. You let out a small giggle and gave him two of the bags you had filled to the brim with scrapbooking items. Now, you could have hidden them from him, but it was likely that he wouldn’t even know what they were so you were safe. The two of you moved in sync to the office of the apartment which very quickly had become your own personal studio with an easel and multiple chests of drawers with the most random supplies in them.

“Just pop them down anywhere, I have a drawing I want to start tonight along with an essay,” you complained.

“Don’t you worry, I have wine and lasagne,” Matthew sang. You audibly groaned at the sound of food, all you wanted was a warm meal and to relax. At least you’d be able to get one of them tonight.

You two sat down at the island that graced the kitchen of the apartment. Matthew had set the table and even put a few candles out, “I thought you could do with an hour or so of doing nothing,” he spoke as he went to grab your hand. He rubbed soft circles over your knuckles as you picked up your wine glass with your other hand.

As you took your first bite of the lasagne, you sent your boyfriend a wink. Lasagne was one of the few things he could cook and not mess up and he knew that. “I am so glad that I have a small amount of time before I start my drawing tonight,” you explained.

“What are you drawing?” Matt asked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

“That is something I would rather not share just now, but you’ll find out later,” you winked. You were never particularly secretive when it came to your artwork so he was slightly confused but he went along with it. Maybe, he thought, it was going to be a gift for someone and you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise.

The two of you continued to chat over dinner, talking about practice and how boring your lectures were. The boy sitting across from you never failed to make you laugh and you knew that you couldn’t draw anyone else other than him. As he was talking, you allowed yourself to take in his features and you tried to think of the best way to draw them. “If you’re done staring, I’m gonna sort the dishes out,” Matt laughed. You hadn’t even realised you were looking so intently at him. “I know I’m beautiful,” he got out before you tried to tackle him to the ground, however, your strength was nothing compared to his.

“I think this means it’s time for me to go and get started with my assignment,” you giggled from underneath him. “Come grab me if I’m still working and should be asleep, yeah?” you asked. He nodded and let you head to the office.

Once seated in the office, you pulled out your laptop and google searched Matt’s name, hoping some good images of him came up. Or at least, some that you could try to emulate. You found one of him smiling and celebrating a goal and thought that would be perfect. It also meant that the majority of his curls were underneath a helmet so wouldn’t have to worry.

Grabbing the canvas you had specifically bought for this, you placed it on the easel. You began to sketch out the rough shape of a skater in the foreground. Then, you moved onto the face. You thought if you did the face early on, you could fix any mistakes with it once the rest of the image was done. Starting with the eyes, then the nose and mouth, this wasn’t going as badly as you thought it might have gone. But then, the dreaded curls were staring at you from underneath the helmet. Sighing, you knew that if you didn’t start them now, they would never be done and a bald Matthew was something you never wanted to see.

A knock on the office door startled you, “baby, it’s almost midnight. You have an 8am lecture tomorrow and don’t want you to be late,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, just gimme a few minutes,” you replied. By this time you had moved onto the logo on his shirt and if anyone saw, it would be incredibly obvious who you were drawing. Curly hair, Calgary Flames player, number 19, with an A on his chest. You were so engrossed in the drawing, you hadn’t noticed Matthew open the door and walk to be behind you.

“Is that a drawing of me?” he asked. You jumped out of your skin and he had to put his hand on your shoulder to stable you. You meekly nodded and looked up to him. “It’s amazing,” he said as he took in the drawing. Suddenly, he put two and two together, “this is why you wouldn’t tell me what you were doing, eh?”

“Maybe,” you said softly, trying to hide yourself in his chest. “Didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore.”

“Baby, if every drawing you do of me is this good,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, “my family better make an entire room back in St. Louis for my ego.” You slowly pressed your lips to his as a sign of appreciation.

“I take it you like it then?”

“Like is the wrong word, I love it. I also can’t wait to send a picture of this to the family group chat to get their thoughts,” he laughed.

“Well, as long as your mom doesn’t want me to do another one, I think I’ll be okay,” you said as you kissed him again.