#he’d try to guilt trip him maybe maybe even ask him to stay but that would only go on for so long

[sweetpapercroissant]

actually sam’s the one that sunk his claws in dean. but y’all aren’t ready for that conversation.

[sttoru]

♯ 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊.

⟣ sypnosis. kento has been extremely busy lately, going on business trips and so forth. he decides to surprise you by coming back earlier than expected. that’s how you end up finding your lover on top of you, showering you in his affection at 3 in the morning.

⟣ tags. nanami kento x female reader. fluff, bit of angst, suggestive towards the end. reader gets called 'sweetheart, angel, dear' wc: 1.8k

⟣ note. okayokay finally an adition to my event heheh ive almost forgotten about it but then i saw this prompt & was like . ok nanami , i must write this rnnn no delaying anymore so here i am :3 its also very bad. i hate it sm LOL i hope u at least like it t_t

kento often asks himself why he had returned to the world he despised — the jujutsu society; his old high school. the sprawling curses everywhere are the main cause of his current misery.

he had been sent out on missions left and right, not catching a break in hopes of reducing any more civilian causalities than necessary. kento had even thought that maybe his previous 9-5 job wasn’t as bad as he had considered it.

overtime was every day for the sorcerer now. that wasn’t the worst thing - no - the fact that he was pratically living a long distant relationship with his beloved irritated him most.

a thought he had in his high school days reoccured in a moment of distress: ‘why not leave all those missions to gojo?’

you were still pretty understanding of his situation. kento appreciated that, though the guilt still ate away at him whenever he tried to sleep. an empty bed welcomed him each time he re-entered his hotel room — you saw the exact same scenery when returning home to your shared apartment.

both of you were adults; both knowing that life was unfair. the two of you being unable to see each other from time to time was a part of your life. kento and you still maintained a healthy relationship. that was all that really mattered in the end.

11:49PM. . . tonight wasn’t unlike any other night; you were preparing yourself to go to bed—changing into your pyjamas after showering, snuggling to a pillow under the covers and texting your lover one last message.

‘good luck on your mission as always! stay safe, i love you.’

you stare at your phone screen for a minute longer than intended. even if you tried to be mature about it — you longed for kento’s warmth and undivided attention. you want him with you, his strong arms holding you to his chest as you rest, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

you sigh defeatedly and put your phone down on your nightstand. just two days until you could see your partner again. you can hold onto that hope to keep you calm.

despite you trying to stay positive, you tossed and turned in your bed as you thought about kento’s safety. there was always a chance of him not coming home to you — always the possibility of that bed to be empty for the rest of your life.

all you could do was pray for his safety in your head whilst your eyes eventually closed from fatigue, your mind drifting off to a deep slumber.

03:14AM. . . kento opens the door he had wished to have opened way earlier. the door that lead to the place where his heart lays; the person who claimed his heart and soul for eternity. you.

he didn’t think he’d actually do it. kento had originally planned to finish his last job as soon as possible and then get home afterwards, but there seemed to be a change in routine.

the special grade sorcerer simply assigned the mission to ino — the person whom he could trust most to finish the job in one piece. as much as kento dislikes to put his juniors in possible risky situations, there are also situations where it’s fine to depend on them. besides, the mission could easily be done by a grade one sorcerer.

kento sighs. the familiar scent of your home was one he could recognise from miles away. one that could calm his nerves instantly. it was that same distinctive scent you carry; thus why your lover sometimes calls you his home.

‘i can’t wait to be home’ ‘i want to be home’ ‘i’m going home’ — all these sentences, which kento has uttered before in earlier conversations, weren’t referring to a place. rather to a person he held dear.

“oh, my sweetheart.” the blonde man whispers under his breath as his eyes catch the shape of your figure under the blankets. he quietly enters the master bedroom and closes the door behind him, not making a sound as to not interrupt your well-deserved sleep.

kento slowly undoes his dotted tie, along with the upper buttons of his blouse. he probably needs to go take a good shower before he could settle down with you — but that’d risk waking you up.

you look extremely angelic in his eyes. especially with your left cheek squished by the soft pillow your head rests on. you never once fail to convince him that you are indeed the woman of his dreams; the woman kento ever had and will have eyes for. it’s like you get more attractive to him as the days go on.

“mh,” your sudden and soft groan makes him realise just how disturbing his behaviour could be interpreted as. kento’s body was hovering over your sleeping one and he was just. . . staring at you with a soft smile. a smile which he didn’t even notice had permanently found its place on his weary face.

kento sits down on the edge of the mattress, callused hand gently tucking you in properly, putting the blanket over your shoulders to make sure you didn’t get cold. he can’t rest if you’re not comfortable— even if he himself was exhausted to the point his eyes were starting to feel heavy.

yet that exhaustion doesn’t last long. it never does when kento’s able to see you again after a tiring week of countless missions and other jobs. your presence alone grants him the energy to stay awake and take care of you. and himself. you’re the reason he keeps it going.

“i love you so much, my beautiful girl — my angel.”

kento sure was a romantic. even when you’re unaware and asleep.

he couldn’t help it; the feeling stirring inside of him. the feeling of adoration and love for you. you are simply resting, yet kento felt an urge to kiss you all over, show you the unending love he has for you. but. . that’d probably be disturbing your peace. you are sleeping after all. he

not that that would stop kento.

your eyes flutter open due to a sudden presence hovering over you. your entire face and neck area was feeling ticklish, like someone was placing tens of kisses all over the skin.

strands of blonde hair is the first thing showing up in your blurry vision. kento’s face follows afterwards as his head tilts back up, the warmth against your jawline disappearing along with it —

“ah, i’m sorry.” a low and almost guilty chuckle tumbles out of his sore throat. the visible confusion on your face makes him let out another, “shh, shh, it’s just me, sweetheart.”

your arms flew around kento’s torso the second the realisation dawns upon you. your heart went from a slow pace to one that caused your entire body to warm up immediately; the adorable reaction and increase in heart rate not going unnoticed by your lover.

you wordlessly hug him — almost still in shock by the sudden appearance. kento doesn’t fight off your tight embrace, instead, welcomes it with open arms. the delicate kisses on your skin continue, each being placed with precision whilst one of his hands keeps your head tilted a little — rough fingers being a contrast of the gentle grip they had on your jaw.

“i missed you lots,” kento murmurs, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth of your body, his lips refusing to let go of your neck, “i couldn’t wait anymore. i couldn’t be separated from you any longer or i’d lose it.”

his gruff voice sounded even deeper than it usually would. maybe due to the overuse of it during his missions. the lone thought makes you pout — the thought of kento working super hard just to provide for you both.

“i missed you more, love.” you mumble, bottom lip trembling a little as kento’s hug triggers a whole lot of emotions in you. his hugs were special, his muscular arms giving you a sense of comfort you couldn’t find anywhere. no one could hug you like he did, “you did well. you did so well.”

those were all the words kento needed. his lips come to halt right above your collarbone, his breath a bit heavy from how much he's holding himself back from doing more. one hand moves from your cheek to your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt.

“thank you, dear.” kento says. his words carrying a load of unending affection. your simple words of appreciation and encouragement makes him shiver in delight. this is what he longed for; this is what he did it all for.

it was clear. the answer to his question - of why he had returned to the jujutsu world, to become a teacher at his former high school - it was all for you. to be able to be with you, see you and hold you like this. to have someone like you appreciate all of his efforts.

“may i?” kento asks through a quiet whisper as he gently removes the blanket covering your figure, his eyes darting down towards your cleavage. he's asking for permission to cross that barrier — to cover you in the love you deserve.

you just stare at the blonde man above you for a second. you watch as he climbs onto the bed with you; the bed which was once empty and dull, now suddenly becoming your favourite place to be at. your fingertips graze against kento's sharp cheekbones. a habit you always did when you were appreciating his looks.

“go right ahead.” you answer with a confirming nod.

both of you were touch starved and had been deprived from each other's embrace for way too long. now was the perfect time to make up for all the time lost.

kento wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip past him. he smiles at you, a gentle and handsome smile, whilst a few of his blonde locks fall over his left eye — his hands already prying away the blanket covering your shape. it was time to show you just how much he has longed for you.

“hold on to me, sweetheart. i’m not stopping until you realise just how much i’ve missed all of you.”

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 29

Description: Conchata O'Hara is not a fan of you and makes this clear to Miguel, but it ends up going a little too far when she drags Gabi into it. Pt 30

“Mijo, I don’t like this.” Connie says as soon as Miguel shuts the door.

They’re in a side sitting room, the music, and chatter muffled by the thick door. His mother is wringing her hands as she stands in the middle of the room looking up at him.

He turns to face her, massaging his temples. “You don’t like what?”

“Someone new trying to come in and take Ava’s spot, it’s too fast.” She says, a concerned expression on her face.

“It’s been four years.” He deadpans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to calm himself down.

He’s never been good at this, even in his original universe, in fact he was worse back there because his mother was worse. Conchata O'Hara spent most of her life after her divorce from his stepfather guilt-tripping, he and Gabriel into running to her side at any given moment. She’d fake health scares, emergencies, claim someone had tried to break in and harm her, anything to trick them into visiting her at Wellvale Home.

But here? Here Gabriel dies much earlier, here his stepfather dies under mysterious circumstances when Miguel was thirteen, here his mother stays kind for a bit longer, this universe’s Miguel is in high school when she begins to change.

Then when Miguel arrived in this universe, he pulled her out of Wellvale and put her into therapy, then a nice apartment where she could bug everyone else before she bugged him. The guilt-tripping lessened, and he found he could actually tolerate visiting her.

“But Ava is still her mother.” Connie says that same disappointed look on her face he saw in the video footage from the day Ava left this timeline’s Miguel.

He counts to ten, then back down to zero in his head. Gabriel was always much better at this than him. He had more patience, in both universes.

“She is biologically her mother, but she isn’t her mom , she made that very clear to me.” Miguel says firmly.

Connie shakes her head. “She’s seduced you, hasn’t she?”

“Y/N?” He asks, both two seconds from laughing while also slightly aroused at the idea.

Would you seduce him? Maybe he’d bring that up to you, a little roleplay? You could be the beautiful assistant that seduces her overworked boss, turns him to putty in her hands…

“Miguel.” Connie snaps.

“No, no, she has not seduced me, she’s an elementary school teacher, Mamá.” Miguel explains.

“So?”

“So? So, she’s Gabi’s teacher, and she loves her job, she would never do anything to jeopardize it.”

“Most mistresses are teachers.” She says, crossing her arms over her chest.

He knows that’s blatantly wrong.

“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, and the look on his mother’s face is like a sucker punch to the gut. “I—Mamá—I didn’t mean…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Tu hijo ingrate.” She says, shaking her head in disappointment. “I did everything for you, tried so hard to raise you well, but obviously I failed.” Trsl: You ungrateful child.

“Mamá…” He reaches for her, but she takes a step back.

“I am so sorry that I was such a terrible mother that you would give up so easily, really Miguel, you would abandon the mother of your child when she came all the way here to see you and Gabi, to apologize.”

“How did you know Ava was in Nueva York?” He asks, dread filling his chest.

“She’s my daughter-in-law, and she wanted to see her baby, I told her where you and Gabi moved to.” She says it so simply, as if she hadn’t driven a stake through his heart.

Not for the first time, he feels a wave of sympathy and rage for this universe’s Miguel. “You told her where we are? After I specifically asked you not to?”

“She wanted to apologize.” She emphasizes.

“No, no she did not, Mamá. She showed up and demanded to see Gabi, she tried to seduce me, and she called my fiancée a whore in her own home, in front of Gabi. She was never intending to apologize.”

“Well, obviously your perception of her is skewed because of your new plaything.” She huffs.

“She is my fiancée, I love her, I’m in love with her, and Ava will never be allowed into my home or near my daughter again.” He says with a tone of finality as he stares down his mother.

She rolls her eyes.

“Mamá, I’m sorry, but if you can’t accept that, then you won’t be allowed to see Gabi either.” This’ll break Gabi’s heart, but a boundary has to be put into place.

This would be much easier if he could just tell his mother Ava was dead, but he can’t and he won’t.

“You would keep me from my own granddaughter? This woman really has changed you.” She tsks, tapping her fingers impatiently on her arm.

She has no idea.

“It’s for the better, can’t you just be happy for me?” He asks, both frustrated and saddened that his mother can’t look past her own desires long enough to focus on him.

She sighs and takes his hand in hers. “Miguel…of course I can. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

He smiles slowly. “Thank you, it means a lot to me that we have your support.”

She pats his cheek. “I’m your mother, you’ll always have my support.”

He smiles and takes a step back, turning towards the door and pulling it open. You’re bound to be worried; he’s told you a little about how much his mother loved Ava, how she blamed him for the divorce, and how she treated him and Gabriel, but he didn’t go into too heavy detail. You had been so upset on his behalf, an almost righteous fury blazing through you.

“Sin embargo, no soy la madre de esa puta.” She mumbles. Trsl: I’m not that whore’s mother, though.

Her voice is so soft, and if his hearing wasn’t enhanced, he doubts he would’ve heard what she said.

“You clearly need time to process this news, Y/N, Gabi and I will leave you alone, and you can give me a call in a few days once you’ve calmed down.”

He leaves her behind as he heads back to the table, his eyes focused on you. How you try to cover your smile with your hand when you laugh, and the way you blend so seamlessly with Monica, Brett, and Nancy, his other family.

“Papá!” Gabi calls out to him from her seat beside you.

“Are you bored of the sheep already?” He teases, as he slides into the seat beside you, an empty one on his other side.

“Oh, Miguel, maybe don’t—” You try to warn him, but it’s too late.

Gabi nods excitedly. “I want one.”

“A sheep?”

“I’ll name it Wooly, and it can sleep in my bed with me, and we can go on adventures, and maybe we can buy a farm, and then I can have lots of sheep.” She begins to ramble on and on about sheep, and he sees Monica hiding her face in Brett’s shoulder.

“Did you do this?” He asks, glaring at her from across the small square table.

Monica raises her head, her lips pressed tightly together to keep a laugh from escaping. “No?”

“Brett?” He turns his gaze on the light brown-haired man.

“You know, Miguel, they say animals are really great for children’s social development.” Brett says, giving him an apologetic smile.

“And then a goat tried to eat my dress!” The tail end of Gabi’s ramble catches his attention.

He turns back to see Gabi holding out the hem of her dress for you to see. It’s got ragged bite marks in it, and pieces of fabric missing.

“Oh no, that’s no good.” You say, smoothing out Gabi’s skirt. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to get you a new one for the next gala.”

“I’ll take you shopping, nieta.” Connie says, taking the seat next to Nancy, the conveniently empty one next to him.

Miguel shoots her a look, but she ignores him.

“Really?” Gabi asks, beaming at her grandmother.

“I’d like to come with, if you don’t mind?” You ask, giving Connie a smile.

Miguel braces himself for his mother’s response.

“How sweet, but this is a family thing, we need to find her color for her quince.” His mother’s voice is saccharine sweet, and it turns his stomach.

“But she’s six?” You question, looking to him for guidance.

“It’s never too early to find your color.” His mother says.

“Of course, but children’s favorite colors often change as they grow older, shouldn’t we let Gabi make her color decision when she gets closer to fifteen?” Miguel sees you look towards Gabi, but she’s preoccupied with trying to beat Brett in some odd competition to see who can eat their pasta faster.

“Y/N is right, Mamá, Gabi is too young to decide what color she wants, why don’t we revisit this idea when she’s a bit older?” Miguel steps in, placing a hand on your knee to comfort you.

“You’re a man, Miguel, you don’t understand how important this is.” Connie dismisses him.

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but he’s her father, I’m sure he does.” You say, your smile growing tight.

He adores you, you who is trying so hard to befriend his mother for the sake of his daughter.

Connie smiles at you. “Poor dear, don’t worry, no one expects you to understand.”

You blink at her, stunned. “Oh—um, I mean, I grew up visiting Texas, I’ve attended quinceañeras before, I know how important they are to the family.”

“Yes, but, attending is not the same as hosting.” Connie laughs, the sound thin and mocking.

“Connie…” Nancy says quietly, her eyes scanning the table until they land on Brett and Gabi.

“Of course not, but Gabi is important to me, so anything that’s important to her is important to me.” You try to reason, clenching and unclenching your fingers around the stem of your still full drink.

Brett reads her glance and scoops her up, carrying her back towards the petting zoo, claiming he forgot to show her something super cool and important.

“And that’s wonderful to hear, but you don’t need to worry, really no one expects you to understand how important this is, you’re not her blood, her family, after all.” Connie smiles as she says this, and Nancy hides her face in her napkin.

Rages surges through him, but you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry?” Your grip on your drink would be enough to crack it if you had his enhanced strength.

“Connie, please.” Nancy says miserably. “Don’t do this.”

“Yeah, Connie, don’t say things you can’t take back.” You seethe.

Miguel’s feels trapped, stuck between two immovable forces, you, coming in hot with a rage he’s never seen before and his mother, radiating ice-cold contempt.

“You can call me Mrs. O’Hara, only family and friends call me Connie.”

“Mamá, y/n is Gabi’s mother, she—”

“I can handle everything a mother does.” You finish his sentence, fingers tap, tap, tapping angrily on the tablecloth.

Connie shakes her head. “It’s best to leave all the important things to me, or Ava, when Miguel finally gives up this little charade. You’re not her mother, and you never will be.”

Like a woman possessed, you shoot up, drink in hand, and throw it at her, champagne splattering across her and the tablecloth before you slam the glass against the table. It shatters, glass scattering across the pristine white tablecloth. “Don’t you ever fucking say that to me again.”

Miguel moves a millisecond before you do, wrapping his arms around you when you lunge. “Y/N!”

“Don’t you ever fucking say that to me. You miserable excuse for a mother, how dare you? You think that cheating bitch is better than me? When has she done anything but lie on her back and fuck with your son and granddaughter’s head?” You scream, fighting against Miguel’s grip as he pulls you away from the table.

“Y/N, please, calm down.” He begs, his enhanced senses helping him navigate around the other tables.

Monica rushes forward and takes what remains of the broken glass from you, before scrambling back to the table.

“Gabriella is my daughter, and I will give her the best damn quinceañera this city’s ever seen, and you will have to fucking watch from outside.” You continue, until Miguel slaps a hand over your mouth and drags you outside.

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars, @sxnasbitch, @111gltzpzy, @lucilavenxoxo, @ray-rook, @elizamelody, @soapbar99, @trashieboii, @erissco, @gardenof-venus, @vlads-dracula3

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pomposo

Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)

Word Count: 4559

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd

Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.

Series Masterlist

Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.

They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.

Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.

Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.

After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.

Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.

Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.

“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 

“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”

Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”

Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”

Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.

He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.

“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.

“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.

Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”

When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.

But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.

Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.

He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.

“Ellen?”

“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”

Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”

“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”

 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”

“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Ellen? Be careful.”

“Don’t you start young man.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Ellen hung up.

Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.

“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”

He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.

“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.

“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.

“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”

John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”

They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.

A car honked in the driveway.

“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.

Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.

“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”

Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”

She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 

Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.

“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.

 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.

“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.

“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”

“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.

Ellen sniffed.

“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”

“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.

“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.

Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.

He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.

He was gonna be sick again.

He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.

Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…

She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.

And it was all his fault.

He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.

Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.

The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.

Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.

Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.

“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.

Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.

“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.

“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.

“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”

That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”

“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.

“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.

Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 

Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 

What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn’t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.

The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.

They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.

They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.

Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 

Kate wiped the floor with them all.

They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.

“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.

“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.

It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.

Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.

Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.

Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 

“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.

“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.

“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.

“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”

Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”

“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.

“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.

“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.

“Dad!” Sam admonished.

“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”

John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”

Sam grunted in confirmation.

“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”

Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.

The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.

Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.

He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.

They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.

They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 

Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.

“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.

Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.

You looked like you were going to be ill.

“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.

You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”

Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 

They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.

What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.

“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 

Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.

And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”

Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”

“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Okay,” was all Sam said.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 15: Rubato

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 4)

I am absolutely brain dead. Anyways, a little bit of lore on Ryker because I’ve barely given any on him, andddd Lucky is back!

Word Count: 4,100

CW: Fear, Panic attacks, Anxiety, (I think that’s all for this one)

4-Nathan 

After yesterday I couldn’t help but feel bad for Ryker. He didn’t lie about staying after class and talking with Mrs. Kay. He stayed behind and talked as I rushed my way back home. I had no idea what they talked about, or what we were going to do. Not that I had a decision in the matter. 

If Ryker hadn’t caught on that I was terrified of him after yesterdays display, then I don’t know how he’ll figure it out. Just being with him for half a day and I almost immediately curled up on my bed and cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t help that I was scared. I was broken in all the wrong places and whatever pieces that were missing weren’t going to be found anytime soon. It’s just, that I kind of wish I’d be able to apologize for the way I had acted to him yesterday. 

Guilt built up inside me the longer I thought about it on my way to school. My mom had asked me the night before how everything went, and I just told her it was okay. It most definitely was not. I felt scared, anxious, and nervous all at the same time. My stomach twisted at this horrible idea I had in my head. I hadn’t even made it to the front doors of my school before my knees nearly buckled underneath me. 

A few shaky breaths and I forced myself through the hundred of students. My heart pounding in my chest, the way all the voices around me were muffled, the way I felt dizzy. This was a horrible idea. Even my own body knew that. 

I made it to the classroom, mindful to keep closer to the wall so I’m not stepped on as people moved around trying to get their newly-made friends. The mini-office was closed today, meaning that Ryker would be somewhere in this classroom, and it wasn’t hard to spot the same black hoodie in the back of the classroom. 

He was on his phone, looking like he was texting someone. Not my business. What was my business was how I was going to apologize to him. I owe him so much. This was my bad idea. Mainly for me at least. I probably won’t be able to get the words out. Or I might stutter every second and he’d be confused. Heck, I might talk but it’s be quiet and I’d have to repeat it all to him. I only really had once chance before my body shuts down on me and he’d see yet another pathetic display come from me. 

I made my way there, noticing the slight uneasiness on his face. He was still texting. Good news for me then. He won’t have to see me struggle to walk even closer than I’ve ever willingly done before. 

Today, the elevator up was the longest trip I’ve made yet. Everything felt slowed once again, but this time a rising anxiousness built up inside. What would he think of me afterwards? Would he think I was the small, puny, bug he probably thinks I am? What was I doing? This was a bad idea. 

As soon as I heard a ding, I took a deep breath, hoping he was still texting away on his phone. It took me a while to convince my body to move, but I managed it. My mind pictured the same torturers in front of me. Smiling with a wide grin as I limped over as they had intersected me to. I’m not there anymore. I had to remind myself before peaking out and nearly letting out a squeak when I realized his attention was all on me now. Even if he still had his phone out, his gaze was on me. 

I retreated back into the safety of the elevator, hearing him finishing whatever he was typing and shove his phone back in his pocket. Suddenly everything was so loud to me. Was that normal? I don’t think so. My mind was racing and my heart was beating so fast it might just rip right out of my chest. Was it out of fear? 

Even though I know Ryker saw me, he never said anything. Nothing at all. Great. Something else to apologize about. I knew this was a bad idea from the start. If I hadn’t came up with this dumb plan, then maybe I would of had an easier time getting out, but now that I know he’ll be giving me his full attention, all confidence was sucked dry out of me. 

I kept Ryker waited for what felt like hours for me. But the bell still hadn’t rang. Nearly five minutes had passed. He was oddly patient. Or maybe just another trick to make me blindly fall into another cage. Tears stung my eyes, but I wiped them away before they could fall. Just do it. Nothing could be worse than being kidnapped and tortured. So, whatever Ryker was going to do to me eventually, he might as well do it now. 

Even though my body screamed at me to press the down button on the elevator and get the heck out of here, I stayed put. I wasn’t just going to make Ryker deal with my insolence and not apologize for the way I act. I’m pretty I’m the cause of all his stress lately. Just another thing to feel guilty about. 

I took my first steps out for what seemed like the first day all over again. Ryker was tapping on the desk rhythmically, one hand holding his head up. It sounded like a familiar song, but I didn’t focus on that. I focused on taking my extremely shaky steps towards him. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of me, sitting up and keeping his hands on the desk. I was not counting on that, but I’ll just deal with it. 

I hate how hard it was just for me to say “I’m sorry.” All the fear in my body was taking control and telling me to head back, but I just had to force myself to stay. The closer I was, the more my heart seemed to skip a beat. The more my breaths became more frequent. A panic attack now was the worst time. 

Once I was as close as my body would allow, I took time to calm myself down so my words didn’t come out slurred or stuttered as much. Yup. All this just so the guilt would go away. It would be worth it in the end. 

My head wouldn’t look up to see his reaction, so I just had to guess that he was just as shocked as I was. I opened my mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Great. I knew this would happen. My voice never fails to stop working when I really needed it. Just great. 

I heard moving, which made my head pick up instinctively, seeing that Ryker was standing up, a sorry look on his face. Wait no… Did I do something wrong? Why wasn’t he talking? Was it because I was taking too long? Did he finally grow tired of me? No. Nononono. That’s not what I wanted. Why can’t I do anything right? 

He placed his hand on the edge of the desk again, the same look on his face. I did do something wrong, didn’t I? The realization hit me like a cannonball. Whatever I did, he obviously hated me for it. Even more guilt gets piled up on top of me. How do I manage to mess everything up when we’ve only really “hung out” for one day? 

I opened my mouth to try again, but nothing comes out. Why does life hate me so much? I just wanted to say I was sorry for everything I’ve done and way I act. Heck, I was even going to apologize for the incident at lunch the other day. He shouldn’t of had to save me. 

My body was acting on it’s own, taking a step back as my body trembled and I hung my head down in defeat. I knew this was a bad idea. 

Ryker’s hand moved to the side as he sat back down, his hand too close for comfort but I brought it upon myself for being this close. My entire body felt like crawling under my blankets and crying myself to sleep. Life really did hate me. I just wanted to talk… Even if it meant I couldn’t keep the conversation going. At least apologize. That was my only goal for the day. That long with surviving anyways. 

“Are you all right, Nathan? You don’t look too good…” He had asked me. And I made the mistake of shaking my head in all honesty. 

———Ryker———

My heart fell. I’ve never seen someone so afraid and shaky before. Never. 

What was I supposed to do? Nathan’s never talked to before. I know nothing about him. He could say the same about me, but still. It’s just that I didn’t know what he was so afraid of. I don’t want to force him to do anything, and the only real way I know how to calm a person down is to hug or give them what they need. I live with five siblings I have to take care of, they feel comfortable around me so I know what calms them down and what doesn’t. 

Nathan is comfortable around me. 

I didn’t know his boundaries, I didn’t know why he seemed like he wanted to do something but couldn’t, and I really didn’t know how to calm him down. Hands weren’t even an option since I’ve noticed he jumps and scoots away every time I was getting something from my bag yesterday. I’ve noticed that he moves away from me when he thinks he’s in my way. And I’ve most definitely  noticed that he never does anything unless he knows for sure it was okay to do. Looking for validation before doing anything. 

Looking around the room, there were still a lot of people trying to get around before the first bell. Not that I cared though. I was more worried about what to do. I knew absolutely nothing about him. Only that we were both seniors. 

Nathan stole a quick glance up at me, hanging his head down almost immediately. But I swear I see him trying to speak. Was that what he was trying to do? Was he self conscious about his voice or something? Or was it just that I was making him nervous? Most likely the second since every time he does try to speak my attention is always on him. Was that why he was scared? He didn’t like attention? I didn’t know. 

He picks his head up again, but I made the mistake of looking down once again and seeing his mouth forming words but nothing coming out. He covers his mouth and ducks his head again. That was it. He doesn’t want me to watch him say whatever he was about to say. Social anxiety? 

Still, I can tell he’s trembling like crazy and he’s not even in my hand yet. I noticed that yesterday too. Just what happened to him? 

I tried making up ways in my head how he would be able to talk without me paying attention, but nothing came to mind. If anything, I just really wanted to hear what he was trying to say to me. I don’t even care if it’s something rude towards me. The little guy already has a hard time just being comfortable around me, so I think it’s a step forward if he’s trying to talk. He probably would hate me if I had called him that nickname though. It suits him though. He’s shorter than most humans, and he seems like a really sweet guy. 

“If you’re trying to say something you can take your time. We have all week. I can wait.” I gave a smile in hopes that he wouldn’t dwell on this the entire day. I haven’t mentioned anything about the lunch incident either since I guess he didn’t want to talk about it after he just ran off. Oh. Maybe he felt guilty for running away? 

Shaking my head at the thought, I let out a hand for him to get onto. It worried me that he could never keep his balance when he had only taken one step on, but he had never done it before. It’s expected. Maybe later on I could help him out with that? Then what Mrs. Kay told me yesterday hung in the back of my head. 

“Nathan has trouble being around giants. I’m just using this class to get him used to it. The real world won’t be so kind to him if you don’t do this. Plus, I’m sure you’re the perfect one for the job.” 

What did that mean? How was I the perfect one for the job? Almost everyone in the school avoids me after my parents… never mind. But still, everyone thought I was so mentally unstable that I could be thrown into a psych ward any day now. I didn’t appreciate the statement, but part of that isn't wrong. So how was I supposed to help him? 

Nathan took shaky steps forward, and cautiously climbing into my palm, but still managed to fall over. I would help, but he doesn’t like being touched. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to do this. It just  takes some time, and I’m very patient. 

We did the same thing as yesterday. Sat down in class and as placed my journal full of unused notes on the desk, he moves away. I didn’t know if he thought he was in my way, or if he just didn’t like being near anything that he thought would kill him. There was no telling. It wasn’t like I was going to just blindly throw something on my desk without taking into consideration that he might be freaked out by that. Especially since he’s just a little taller than the width of my fingers. 

I remember when I first saw him, my first thought was: He’s really small. And that’s saying something since I have a younger human sister that’s barely turning five this next month. But I also thought that he was really nice. And he is, but it’s not in the way I had imagined. What was he hiding that made him so scared?  

———Nathan———

Stupid. I was so stupid. I completely exposed myself to Ryker, and all he did was say that I could take my time. Why was Ryker so nice? I wasn’t used to that! Coming from a giant too? No. It’s a definite lie. He was somehow patient with me even when I took all the time in the time in the world. Every single time I’m overthinking something or just really torn up, he gives a smile, like he knows what’s going on in my mind. I was so confused. 

The day went by fast, and nearly every class period I tried to talk. Heck, at this point it would be great just to make any kind of noise, even when I know that he’d laugh at me. I think it was 6th period when I managed to get a word out, but he didn’t hear me. As expected. Why was this so hard for me? 

During his seventh period, he set me down by the human sized doors and sat down on the same couch as before, reading the same book as yesterday. The other three people sat at the table playing Uno yet again, laughing their butts off while the librarian was putting away some books.  

I headed through the doors of the human library, seeing that there was an entire freshman class in here. That was surprise. Probably getting books for a project or report or something. Though, I did spot one familiar face as I sat down on the couch in the corner. The one that saved me during lunch the other day. Lucky. 

It was maybe fifteen minutes after their class had all grabbed whatever books they needed and sat down talking. It was loud, but it’s not like it bothered me. I mean, I was supposed to be in calculus right now. I’d much rather prefer this. 

My head was buried in a book when someone had sat next to me. I nearly jumped, but just looked over to see that is was Lucky. Why would he even come over here to me? Wasn’t he supposed to be with his class? Obviously it didn’t stop him from talking to me. Wait. Maybe I could ask about Ryker? They seem to be good friends even though I’ve never seen them talk besides on Monday. 

“You’re…. Nathan? That’s what Ryker called you, right?” He had on a smile and still sat almost an entire head taller than me while sitting down. Makes sense. But it was kind of embarrassing when a freshman was so much more taller that their upperclassmen. It makes me feel even more insecure. 

I replied with a nod, never looking directly at him. I was scared he might say something. Just like a list of my many, many fears. 

“Why’d you run out the other day? Y’know, during lunch?” How did I know he was going to ask that? Someone would have eventually. Just, I didn’t expect it to be brought up so casually. I mean, why did he even care? Did I make him angry by running off? Did I hurt his feelings that I didn’t give an apology or a thank you? I cringed at the thought, but I knew I had to face it. 

“I… Um, I was scared. So I-I’m sorry for r-running, and th-thank so much for g-getting me out of there.” I bit my tongue for stuttering the last bit. At least if he’s angry at me I’ll know that I did thank him at least. That’s one guilt off my chest. Still, I have to tell Ryker, and he’s harder to talk to given that my own body goes against me every time I try to talk or even get the slightest bit closer so he can hear me. Life hated me so much. 

“Anytime,” Lucky had started, “My brother said something about some kind of project with you two? I wasn’t paying attention.” Brother? Where did that come from? I don’t even know who he’s talking about. Was he in my class? Was he one of the people watching as I failed miserably to make some kind of interaction? 

“Brother?” Lucky’s eyes shot wide, then he bursted out laughing. Did I do something wrong? Or embarrassing? And suddenly, I felt dozens of eyes on me. His whole class was looking at us. I gulped, burying my head. This was fine. Just ignore them and they’ll go away, yeah… 

“Well, I’m the adopted one, but Ryker is my older brother.” Lucky explained to me. Oh. What. How does that work? Ryker was a giant, and Lucky was human. It’s not entirely abnormal for a human to be adopted by a giant family, but I never understood how they even live through that. Even if the human manages to escape, they’re legally owned by that family. But besides the point, that made things a million times harder for me. Anything I said to Lucky, he would tell Ryker. Great. 

“So how’s that project going?” Lucky had asked, a chuckle escaping his mouth. I shook my head, groaning. I don’t need to be reminded that I was making things harder for Ryker. It’s not my fault! I guess in a sense it is though. Since my mind obviously can’t forget what happened a nearly a year ago. 

Lucky pulled out his phone, texted someone, the shoved it back in his pocket, “You get used to Ryker after a while. He’s a nice guy.” So everyone’s said. I believe them though. Ryker’s done nothing but be patient with me and try to make some kind of progress on getting me to open up. I’m the problem.

Lucky’s teacher had called everyone to get back to class, letting him know to leave, “Oh hey, you should come over on Friday. I heard that was part of your little… trust exercises?” He smiled and left with his class. What? He knew about that? Did that mean Ryker has talked about me to him? Oh that did not bring me any peace of mind. Not at all. If he has, what has he said? That I was impossible to deal with? I was infuriating? 

And suddenly I wasn’t so confident about this week anymore. 

———Ryker———

Lucky had texted me that he was talking to Nathan. I mean, that offered some kind of relief, but not entirely. Lucky could be… ecstatic at times. Especially when he was meeting new people. Or when he was around Dylan is was five times worse. Luckily, that wasn’t possible so I didn’t dwell on it too much. But, I did plan on inviting Nathan over to my house this Friday or sometime during the weekend. Since Mrs. Kay denied my request to take this off the long list of things I already had to do. Not that I would mind him over. It’s just that he might be a little surprised to see everyone. 

Nathan seemed a little more uneasy after his talk with Lucky, which really worried me. What did Lucky say? Or better yet, what was Nathan thinking? It seemed like the more important question. I’m sure Lucky told Nathan that we were brothers, but I doubt he told them about everyone else. That would have been a lot to go over. Not that he won’t find out eventually. Nathan still hasn’t said what he wanted to say this morning. Whatever it was. I was anxious to hear, but at the same time I knew he was having some problems. 

Last period was the same as yesterday. Just another day to get to know one another better, but I’ve made no progress at all. I’d like to at least know what his favorite color is at this point, but I’m sure he was wondering the same about me. I haven’t told him anything about me either. 

Currently, Nathan was sitting on my desk facing me just like everyone else. Not what he usually does, but that’s fine. Maybe Lucky had actually helped him instead of freaking him out? Maybe. A slight possibility. 

“Everything alright?” I had asked, easing some of my relief. I was actually really worried about him. I’ve never encountered someone so afraid in my entire life, and that was saying something. 

He nodded his head, playing with his hands. Nervous? I could never tell with him. How do I break it to him that Mrs. Kay is making him come over to my house? She knows that it can get a little chaotic and with my newfound knowledge that he has a hard time being around giants, this might not be the best match-up. I’ve noticed that Nathan doesn’t like people acknowledging him or even looking at him. Does it give him anxiety? Probably. Explains why he was struggling to talk to me. It only made me feel even more bad for him.

I guess if I was going to tell him it would be now. He’d have to know anyways, “Hey, um, I asked about you not being able to come over, and she just said that it would be better if you came over anyways. I’m sorry, really.” I saw him cringe back and nod his head sadly. I wondered why he was so uncomfortable with the idea of going over to my house though. Him knowing about my… predicament is something, but he didn’t know. So it was really weird to see him so scared and shaky when Mrs. Kay brought up the idea yesterday. 

“So how does Friday sound? We have a separate human part of the house if you get too overwhelmed and I’ll take you back home anytime? How’s that?” I tried to somewhat calm him down, but for some reason I think it might have the opposite affect on him. Oh good going Ryker. Just great. Give him another reason to be scared. 

To my surprise, he nodded. This could either go horribly wrong, or great. Only one way to find out. 

———————————————

This chapter for some reason was hard to write so I’m sorry if it’s not like the past three chapters. I’m pretty sure I wrote half of this at three in the morning so if it sounds weird that’s three a.m. me. Thank you for reading though! Asks are always open if you have questions about anyone!

[yanderes-galore]

Panther’s Yandere prompts for Yandere Deku for 5.) "Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!" maybe Deku got the reader corned and wont let her leave till she accepts his confession (maybe he also guilt trips her but she still refuses ?)💗(also no worries , and remember to take your time and drink plenty of water )

Alright! Sorry the plot wasn't exactly what you wanted but I wanted to do a pro hero AU. Aged up as usual.

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya Prompt 5

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Delusional behavior, Manipulation, Forceful behavior, Deku not handling rejection.

Izuku is a determined man. Even when you two were in high school, he was convinced you two would be dating someday in the future. So convinced that he kept going out of his way to charm you into loving him. He just couldn’t understand such thoughts were not meant to be.

When you two were in U.A. together, you were used to the nervous boy who followed you around like a puppy. Many of your friends joked that he had a crush on you… although it soon came to light that Izuku was being truthful. He truly did have a massive crush on you.

He hid it from you for the most part. He loaded notebooks all about you, remembered your class schedule, and sent you secret admirer letters all the time, however. No wonder he got caught so easily because he was so eager to share his feelings with you.

You didn’t mind Izuku. He was a soon-to-be hero with ambition and you respected him. You just felt life was too chaotic to get so involved with him. Even when he asked you out before graduation….

“Do you plan on going pro too, (Y/N)?”

“Well, I think I’ll stick to civilian life. I’ll be there when others need me… but going pro feels a bit too stressful to me.”

“I see… that’s fine! That just means we… won’t see each other as often-”

“It’ll be okay, Izuku. I trust you, as All Might’s successor, to protect everyone even if I can’t be there to help. Just don’t forget to visit.”

“Actually, (Y/N)-”

“Yeah…?”

“I was wondering… if you’d go out with me. N-Nothing too big! I just… I just feel I should try to express my feelings for you before we part our ways.”

“Oh, Deku….”

It was a pain for both of you to turn him down. Part of you thought it would be a wonderful chance but hero life would be stressful for the both of you. You turned him down not because you didn’t like him, but because you wanted the best for both of you.

Deku on the other hand, was crushed. You tried to explain your reasoning and he acted like he understood. Although… The hero could not let go of his feelings so easily. You thought when you graduated, you’d never see each other again. 

It turns out you were wrong. 

You saw Izuku everywhere on TV once he went pro. Everyone praised him for being All Might’s successor, and for being himself. They praised his smile and how he went out of his way to help people. It was nice to see he was doing well in your mind. Meanwhile you were relaxing at home, having grabbed a small job to make ends meet. It was less dangerous than hero work.

Since Izuku went pro, you expected he would have no time to see you. Probably a good thing you never accepted the relationship. Plus, who went to visit all of their high school friends after school ended anyways? You didn't think you were that high on the priority list. 

Imagine your surprise when Deku himself knocks on your door, smiling brightly when he sees you.

“You said to visit you, right?”

You’re both now adults, you nearly forgot that he had the hugest crush on you in school. You both had gone to different paths in life but from what you knew, were happy.

You decided to not go pro and instead live a quiet little life, getting by enough to stay happy. Izuku went pro and achieved his dream, giving bright smiles on TV and saving people’s lives. You’d think he’d be happy too.

Not as happy as he would’ve liked, it seems.

You two caught up, talking about how life went. Although you noticed how Izuku’s tone shifted as he looked at you. Was he upset about something?

“Are you doing okay, Deku?”

His face heats up at the affectionate nickname you give him, looking away from you. Even as an adult and a star he still manages to get bashful and shy. You still had an effect on him to this day. 

“...Remember when I asked you out?”

You smile and laugh softly, embarrassment flooding through you at the memory.

“Yeah… I still think it’s for the best that we decided against it. You’re so busy now.”

“But I’m not happy….”

“Huh?”

“I’ve always thought of that day since I became a pro. I think I would’ve been happier as a hero… if you were there to support me.”

“Deku… I didn’t know I made you feel that way.”

“(Y/N)... I want to try again.”

Izuku smiles at you, cheeks tinted a light pink while he looks at you hopefully.

“I’m not busy, and I can tell you aren’t either! We… We can try it now, right?”

“Izuku… no, I can’t-”

“Why not!?” The pro hero panics, scared to have his heart broken again.

“I can’t bring myself to feel the same, Deku-”

“But think about it! I can provide for you, I’ll promise to visit you often, are you scared of all the cameras? I can ask them to tone it down around you-”

“Izuku.”

You snap him out of his rambling and sigh.

“I just don’t feel the same.”

He looks to be on the verge of tears at this. He’s been waiting to ask you again for years…. You have to feel the same! He loves you too much to just… let you go.

“Just one date…” He sniffles. “I promise I’ll be good for you! I’ve been studying the things you like and asking around to try and visit you and-”

“Izuku… What the hell are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes. “Don’t manipulate me into this, this should’ve ended years ago.”

"Manipulation? No, dear, I'm just encouraging you!" Izuku cries, standing up from his spot. You watch him, glaring at him before gesturing to the door.

“Can it, Izuku. I don't want to talk about this. Everyone confesses, many get rejected, end of story. No need to be so obsessive-”

Izuku grabs your hand, looking at you longingly. You’re now the one panicking now. You've seen what his power does, both in high school and on TV.

“N-No… please. I can't sleep when I think of you. I only ask for you to accept me once… t-then I’ll leave you alone, okay?”

“You’re manipulative and forceful…”

“I don’t mean to be!”

“Let me go.” 

“(Y/N), please!”

“I mean it…!”

Izuku reluctantly lets you go. You pull away and take a deep breath. Never meet your heroes, right?

“(Y/N)....”

“Leave my home, I gave you my decision.”

Izuku frowns but nods softly.

“I’m sorry….”

“I don’t care.”

Izuku looks at you one last time before leaving your home dejectedly. He was too caught up in his delusions to consider how you felt. Even now, however, he can't shake the thought of you from his mind.

While you calm down and continue with your normal life, Izuku watches you from a window. Perhaps he rushed things… he needed to be more careful next time.

Izuku was determined to have you fall for him someday. Every time he smiles on TV, everytime he gets interviewed and asked questions, every time he saves people… he does it while thinking of you. You are so very special to him… even if he’s forceful about it.

He’ll have you give him a chance someday…

He just needs to be patient and not ruin it like he did this time.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Bucky Barnes Headcanons

Warnings: Present bucky (2023), talks about his background/hydra, killing/hurting mention/actions, mentions about steve/sam/thanos (aka dried grape).

Author Note: Sorry if this is shorter than others, this was rushed and a midnight thought writing. Stay well!!

Bucky has been through a lot: lost himself off the train, his arm, and was brainwashed to be a killer. He lost his memories, his best friend, and his self-observantness. After he got saved from Steve, he dreamed of staying home with someone; away from the chaos, and with a partner who would love to have a peaceful morning with him.

Because of how harsh his background was, he'd fall for someone who’s very kind, patient, and never judgemental. Most likely, you'd meet him after he breaks free from Hydra; either helping him as a nurse when Steve brought him to the compound or someone he met in the city when he was bleeding badly. You’d help him keep hidden and get back on his feet while he chose to stay with you and maybe, get some help with Steve and the Avengers.

At first, he’s very distinct with you, leaving everytime you come in, and is very quiet with rare answers other than a shake of a head for a ‘no’ and a small mumble for a ‘yes’. But, once he gets closer to you, realizing you’re not gonna hurt him but rather the other way around; you both would quickly become close friends. He’d become a huge support to you, mentally and physically that is. He’ll offer to pay for the groceries every other week, clean the apartment when you're not in the mood, and remind you of important things in case you forgot. He even offers to cook dinner if you’ve had an exhausting day, including starting a shower for you.

He always mentions that he loves helping you in any way possible, just like you helped him when he was out of line and a total stranger to himself and the new society. He always promises to ‘pay you back’ no matter how much you decline that he ‘needs’ too.

After what happens with the snap and Steve; he’ll slowly become more closer with you, as he starts to learn more about him and the technology. This would also come with how he realizes he’s in love with you.

Bucky would start to know he’s in love with you by how you make him feel and how he likes to flirt with you. Sure, Barnes was a lady’s man when he was younger, but now he’s quite a coward; unsure what to do. He’ll ask Sam, but mostly leave it up to himself, not wanting to get teased or made fun of because he doesn’t know what to do. When he notices how you make him feel (aka: when he’s head over heels for you), Bucky would start to ‘court’ you: buying you flowers every time he sees you, maybe bringing your favorite meal alongside and trying to give you his jacket whenever you're cold. He gets really happy when you ask him for help, it helps boost his pride up. Slowly he would start to see, or hopefully, start to see that you would want something more than a friendship with him.

He would never kidnap you. He knows what it's like to be kept under your will so he would never drug you, take you away where you’re stuck in a house forever, feel unsafe/or scared. However, in a rare moment, if something chaotic happened (ex. such as the purge, an invasion of aliens/monsters, or people who are after you) then he would take you, but he would never put you in chains or force you to do things, he’d still allow you to go outside but. As said again, this is a very rare and unlikely situation to happen.

Though, if he does kidnap you, he’d try to reassure you into believing that he’s not what he is, and never would be. Most likely, you would be drugged in some way; only enough to make you drowsy and accidentally fall asleep on his bed/or couch.

Outside of the headcanon above: bucky guilt-trips you sometimes. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he can't feel at ease when you're not around/or in his sight. He would consistently bring his past into the conversations you two would have. He would only use his guilt-trip tactic if you're going somewhere ‘dangerous’, on a mission or spending too much time with somebody. At first, he’d try to talk to you without going, staying at your work to fill out paperwork or train, but the more you persist on going; he finally gives in to explaining he has to go with you. Reasoning that he’s beyond terrified of you getting hurt, he just wants to make sure you're protected at all times and that nothing bad happens to you; not that it’s wrong or anything.

As a way to get closer to you, he would use his assassin ways to stalk you, making sure you get to places safe; also using this as a way to understand what you like, dislike/or pet peeves you have of things. He would try to understand and find ways to make you like him better: cooking your favorite meals, buying you items for your hobbies, and trying to surprise you with extreme gifts.

His yandere behavior is overprotective, guilt-tripping, possessive, and (semi)worshiping. As stated above, he wants to repay you for helping him; meaning he wants to spoil you. He would buy you small meaningful gifts. If you're into art, he’d come over to give you a few canvases, paint, and some brushes that could replace your old ones. If you're into gaming, he’d slide some games he saw you took interest in, sometimes buying you hand-books that explain the game better. Hell, he’d even ask to try to play games with you.

He’s the definition of a gentleman. He always opens the doors for you, including the car doors and never lets you lift heavy things, insists on paying for everything, and always asks for permission to do things: touching you, using your bathroom, or even coming over to your house so he could, atleast, have a moment of peace.

Once he gets over his fear of rejection, he will confess to you: over a romantic dinner, and something cute but not too extreme. When you two are into a relationship, the affection you'll receive is very touch-starved. Because of the years of abuse, he's clinging onto you like a sloth and never letting go. But, that doesn’t mean he's touching you all the time; he always asks for permission first: tapping in a certain way or asking. He loves touchibg you, something he craves 24/7: holding hands, having his arm around your waist, or putting his face into your neck after an exhausting day; it’s something he loves forward too.

He spoils you like no tomorrow; buying you anything he sees that reminds him of you or something he feels like you’ll enjoy.

Most days, he’d tag along with whatever you're doing; following you around like a guard dog. If you're going to the store? He’d love to tag along, plus you get the extra help carrying the heavy things. Meeting a friend? He's right beside you, but beforehand; he's looking through their background to see if they're a threat for you or not. Going for a walk? He’d love to come with you. Having some extra protection is better.

Bucky hates conflict. He will try his best to never fight with you, trying his best to be calm in the situation if you're mad or yelling at him. Though, if it continues, he will leave the room to make sure you calm down. Though, if you do something that endangers your life, he will get irritated, slightly raising his voice until he removes himself, then come back in and apologize; possibly taking it out in a more-so-calming tone.

He would never, ever hurt your family or friends. He wouldn't want you to be upset, more or less be afraid of him. But, he will hurt/or kill someone if they get on your bad side. Whether it’s hurting, scaring, or making you uncomfortable; he would brutally kill them and cover it up. This also goes along the line of if you have horrible friends, he will tell you the red flags and tell you confidently that you need to remove yourself from them. If you don't listen, he won't force you to do anything, but he will make sure to be there for you when they do something.

—

Masterlist | Requests are closed (8/2/2022)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©yandere-kokeshi

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[just-imagine-bleach]

HI! I rarely see any bleach content creatures and got really excited when I saw yours! If it’s alright with you can I request a Byakuya x soul reaper fem reader fic (I hope this is the right word for it) where she fell in love with Byakuya ever since she met him and on a daily basis reminds him of it? Like always trying to impress him, give him gifts, help him out and etc. She pursues him but Byakuya never acknowledges her feelings until one day she finds out he already loves someone else (his dead wife) and after realizing that she stops realizing he could never love her? Only for Byakuya to realize how much he misses y/n when she stopped and decides to confess to her himself? I hope this isn’t too much!

Hi there! Not at all! I'm sorry to be such a slow poke in answering. I'm sorry I couldn't do a fic like you wanted. My writing abilities are sub par at best... So I did headcanons from byakuyas perspective instead! :) I really hope you enjoy it!

He has seen the look in your eyes, the adoration in your smile when he thanks you for the fresh cup of tea, the way you steal glances when you work side by side. He isn’t a fool. He should push you away, like he did the others. Set boundaries. However, he just can’t bring himself to do so. He’d hate to admit it, but he finds comfort in the small gestures of affection that you offer and the idea of you stopping causes him quite a bit of anxiety. So, He keeps quiet and selfishly acts oblivious.

At one point or another, however, something changes. Slowly you are slipping away from him, creating a rift between the two of you, and he’s sickened by the thought that you had given up on him. Perhaps it's for the best, he thinks, to take comfort in someone's affection knowing full well that to reciprocate such feelings would dishonor the memory of his late wife is despicable. In his mind. He was being punished.

Byakuya should have left things the way they were, but as time grew so did the rift and it was killing him slowly on the inside. He desperately missed your companionship, He missed your nagging, he missed the way you would laugh at his jokes, but most of all, he missed just having you in the room with him.

It was time for an honest conversation.

When you tell him why you withdrew yourself, hes so relieved that you are already aware and understand his situation. He's so touched by the amount of respect and care you have treated him with, but at the same time, he is absolutely kicking himself for underestimating you. He confesses that he misses your presence in his life. He doesn't ask you to wait for him, he feels that would be cruel, as he may never be able to return your feelings without the looming guilt, but he does ask that you stay in his life as his very dear friend even if you choose to move on. 

But of course we both know that won't happen.

He visits his wife's shrine often to talk mainly to himself. He knows she's not there, she was put back into the cycle eons ago, but it still brings him comfort. it's during one such trip that he finally comes to terms with his feelings and what happened, and finally decides to move forward with what he feels would be his wife's blessing. 

His confession is long awaited, months, maybe years have gone by, he hopes your affections had not waned.

He waits until the two of you have the privacy of his office to present you with flowers, a token of his gratitude, asking simply if you might be free for dinner one night.

[transboykirito]

let's try this again. a rambly thing i wrote about sugu and kazuto.

It had been hours of the two of them just laying there on her bed, her head on his chest and his hand in her hair. Neither of them was talking. The only sound in her room came from the quiet humming of the air conditioning unit on the wall.

“Does it ever get better?”

Suguha asked the question without expecting a response. He of all people wouldn’t know how to give one. Hell, she shouldn’t be asking him anything like that in the first place. Who gave her the right to ask him if her issues would get better when his far outweighed her own?

“Maybe.”

Kazuto’s voice was tired. It was more than just sleep deprivation, though both of them were in need of rest. It was the kind of exhaustion that only came from trying to live and exist while everything in you screamed to end it all now. It was an exhaustion she’d once been inconvenienced by as she dealt with a depressed family member, and now it was an exhaustion that she had come to know herself.

God, she was selfish. How many times had she laid there at night and convinced herself that if they spoke the next day, it meant he would be better? How many times had she thought his life was a weight on her shoulders? How many times did she comfort herself in the fact he cared too much about her to leave her behind?

“Do you even want it to get better?”

How many times had she placed herself on a pedestal in his life, so certain of the fact she could love him enough to take away this kind of soul-interwoven sadness? How conceited had she been to think that a few hollow-but-well-meaning words of I love you, I promise you’ll get better could ever save him from something that had existed inside of him for nearly half his life?

“Maybe.”

It wasn’t like she hadn’t understood, to some degree, that he needed more help than she could offer him. She’d cried herself to sleep on multiple occasions, terrified that her beloved brother wouldn’t be there when she woke up, because deep down she knew that he needed something she couldn’t provide. He needed…

That was the issue - part of it, at least. She didn’t know what he needed exactly, but she knew it was more than her and her naive teenage words could amount to. No amount of pleading for him to stay just a little longer, no amount of empty promises that one day he’d feel happy again, no amount of daydreams of him walking her down the aisle or seeing her graduate - none of it would ever be enough.

She wasn’t enough.

She’d hated herself for it. She hated that there was something she couldn’t do for him. She hated that this boy, the one she loved more than anything, the one who made her life worth living, was so sad that she could never even see past the surface of it.

“I don’t know how I’d do any of this without you.”

She doesn’t say it to guilt-trip him. It isn’t some unintentional twist of a knife someone else had buried deep in his side. She says it because it’s the truth. She really, really doesn’t know how she’s supposed to live without him.

He doesn’t respond, so she tries another approach.

“How do I keep going when it feels so hopeless?”

He shrugs lightly, shifting her head as he does.

“You just do. You just have to believe there’s a reason for it.”

He sounds so tired. She wants to tell him to rest. She wants to tell him to roll over, so he can lay his head on her own chest and drift off to sleep. She wants to tell him she’ll protect him from all the things that haunt him in his dreams. She wants to tell him that the exhaustion won’t last forever.

“What’s your reason?”

She holds her arms around his middle tighter. She knows that she won’t be his answer. She knows exactly what - no, who - his answer is going to be. She’s jealous, just the tiniest bit, that she isn’t his world in the same way he’s hers, but he deserves his own happiness, and she’s truly happy that he’s found it.

“I just have to be here long enough to see things be good again.”

There’s another long pause where neither of them says anything. He’s thinking. She’s thinking. He’s likely thinking of all the moments that led him to this moment - all the people he met and loved, the lives lost, the lives taken, the years stolen from his life that he can never recover.

So what’s she thinking about?

Aside from him, because she really is worried about him.

She’s thinking about the bloodshed she witnessed in the Underworld. The lives she took, the pain she felt, the fear she felt, the love she felt. The hopelessness and the rebellious determination. The bonds she forged that she could never return to. The impact she left that she would never know of. The wounds and the blood she’d shed. The slimy feeling of that witch all over her. The humiliation. The rage. The moment something inside of her had simply snapped. The moment her entire body gave way and she could no longer stand.

She felt she didn’t deserve to compare her experiences to Kazuto’s. He’d fought for longer, in harder battles, with stronger enemies, facing higher stakes. He’s been doing this - this loneliness, this anger, this despair, this rot - for far longer than she had with a much heavier load on his shoulders. Really, she felt it inappropriate to even be asking for his advice now.

Then he talks again, his weary voice giving her just the slightest hint of bittersweet affection.

“You know, Sugu, I wish I was as strong as you.”

She blinks. It’s the other way around, isn’t it? She’s the one who so desperately wishes to be as strong as him. What kind of game is he playing now?

“Strong?”

“You keep loving people. No matter how many times your heart breaks, you love people anyway. The Underworlders, Nagata. Even me. That’s really strong. I wish I could do that.”

She blushes just slightly. Did he really pay attention that much when she complained about him? Or, rather, more truthfully, she blushes because loving him - loving anyone - has never been a choice for her. It’s simply how it is.

She loves him. He could break her heart a million times over, and every time she would still hand it back to him, barely beating and held together in the palm of her hand. Every time, she would give him - or anyone - her heart with the expectation of it being broken, and she would give her heart away anyway.

Maybe it was naive. No, she knows it is. She would cry and wail like a child, then put her heart back together just enough to throw it to whoever she thought might hold it for a while, just for the shortest, sweetest moment. Then, she would live in that love until it threatened to suffocate her, and she would do it all over again.

She’d dragged her broken, bloodied heart through the mud so many times, she was surprised it was still beating.

But it was. Her heart was beating, and she was alive.

He was alive.

She could breathe.

“It’s because I’m too stupid to stop caring.”

She says it in that half-hearted, self-deprecating way that implies she’s trying to joke, but neither of them find any humour in it.

“Maybe.”

“Hey!”

She laughs, he laughs.

She breathes.

She knows they’re both tired. She doesn’t know how long they’ll be tired for. Maybe forever. Maybe for the next few years. Maybe until something happens and they miraculously find themselves reinvigorated by something that makes them forget everything they’ve been through.

She knows who’ll give him that. She knows it isn’t her.

She knows that when they decide this conversation is over, she’ll roll off of him and make an awkward joke about having a cramping leg. He’ll laugh and tell her it’s her fault for clinging to him like the world’s most anxious baby koala. Then he’ll linger in her doorway for a moment, they’ll plan what they’re going to do for dinner in a few hours, and he’ll go back to his room to call her on the phone.

Because Asuna has taken the spot in Kazuto’s heart that Suguha had selfishly believed belonged to her. She doesn’t hate her for it, she’s glad that her brother’s found someone who makes him truly happy, someone who makes him want to love life again. Asuna’s great, she likes Asuna.

But just for now, listening to his heartbeat while he breathes, she convinces herself that at least part of his heart is still reserved for her. For this brief moment, she lets herself believe that her words can still reach him.

He breathes.

She breathes.

“Is it ever gonna get better for us?”

He shrugs again.

“Maybe.”

Then she forgives herself enough to let herself say one more stupid, naive thing. Just once. Then she’ll hold him to it.

“Promise me you’ll still be here when it does get good again?”

He holds her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips for the first time in hours. There’s still wet tear tracks down his cheeks from earlier.

“Yeah, I promise I’ll be here a while.”

Then he sighs, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest for the first time in a while. She swallows down the memories threatening to beg him for reassurance. Another time, she promises herself. For now, their conversation here is over.

He breathes.

She breathes.

They’re going to be okay.

[venus-haze]

i hope your trip is fun! ik you’re not really doing sequel fics anymore but i’d love headcanons for the reader’s career after elvis turns her into a vampire in your fic it was so good💗

It was a lot of fun! I apologize for taking so long to get to this, but here's some headcanons for Elvis and the reader post-My Fading Voice Sings of Love.

Vampire!Elvis x Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes such as death, emotional manipulation, and abuse of power. Mentions of blood and violence. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Your career, like his was for so long, becomes tied to Las Vegas. Your manager is beside herself when you tell her you changed your mind about touring, you’ll keep your residency indefinitely. She almost drops you as a client over it, but with your second album nearing its release date, you just barely manage to luck out. It charts well, but without a tour to support it, interest in your music starts to wane

It’s almost sick how your formerly promising career stagnates like his did being stuck there—you can’t even bring yourself to hate him. You wanted this, asked for it. You had the choice between leaving and staying, and you chose to stay

He’s far more dependent on you than you are on him. While you still have your usual entourage, with the exception of the few people who have come and gone through the years, you’re all he has. You do care for him, you can't shake the feelings your human self had for him before, if anything they're more amplified now

The first time you kill someone to feed is extremely harrowing for you. You had to do it, there was no other choice, but you felt guilty at having to take a life to sustain your own, even if Elvis made sure the whole thing was as impersonal as possible. He lets you experience all of the emotions running through you in the aftermath because he didn’t have anyone to help him when he was turned, he was on his own and had to deal with the messy, conflicting feelings himself

If you become okay with killing, the two of you will go out to feed together. On the other hand, if you can’t seem to shake the guilt and hesitancy, he’ll bring back fresh blood for you when he goes out to feed. He’d prefer this scenario, in all honesty. You would be dependent on him to survive and to him that intimacy can’t be matched by feeding together. It's definitely a control thing, but also he needs to feel needed

Besides, ya know, him being the only other vampire you know and probably will ever meet, music is the biggest thing that connects the two of you—even if he doesn't always agree with the artistic choices you make. You're always learning from him in that capacity

A decade or so goes by before you have to throw in the towel, not because you can't perform anymore, but there's no way to explain why you just haven't changed physically or the strange career choices you've made. You've reluctantly become a recluse artist, releasing albums every so often for your small group of dedicated fans, gaining something of a cult following over time

At times you toy with the idea of leaving, trying other places out for taste, after all, you're not nearly as recognizable as he is. You don't have to stay in Vegas. Something in you stops you every time, maybe it's love, or maybe it's to spare the next unsuspecting popstar who comes along from ending up like you

[thelocalmuffin]

8 or 24 with asoryuu for the prompt meme?

Sorry this is so late, Ela. I bring you a fic!

DGS 2 Spoilers. The prompt was giving a hug to someone who really needs it.

Quick note: this is based on a headcanon I have that Kazuma had to end his exchange earlier than expected.

***

As Ryunosuke scrubs the dishes they used for dinner clean, his mind wanders away from the present day. He’s not sure if it’s commonplace, but it’s been happening a lot more lately. Yet, one thought persists in the mists of his clouded thoughts.

Ryunosuke’s efforts are for nothing.

Fighting against Japan’s legal system has been nothing short of a nightmare. He fights and crawls for the truth in exchange for small accomplishments.

His victories should be a sense of pride, but each one feels hollow. Even with promising leads, nothing changes. Just more cases for him and Susato-san to sort out. When he should be celebrating, nothing but his lingering doubts creeps to the front of his mind.

He once did more.

He’s not the same man he was in London. He isn’t a promising student anymore. He’s just yet another cog in the machine to enforce the brutal laws of what the government demands, lest he lose his badge.

He does what he can and will always pursue the truth...but he has to be somewhat reasonable. If he loses his badge, it'll be all for nothing.

He hadn’t even remotely made a dent in the legal system as he promised his friends back in London.

Most days, he’s just defending people from the brutality of the legal system. Something he, of course does not mind, but something is missing.

He could lie and say he pursued law for the sake of justice, but the truth is far more self-centered than he’d like to admit. He may as well now. He loves the thrill of a lead he can chase, the clues falling into place like a puzzle, the fact the courtroom once made him feel alive.

No more.

It hasn’t been that way for months now. It's just another part of his empty life. Work, go home, maybe rest, work, go home, maybe rest...

He exhales, trying to focus on his cozy, domestic life. The parts that actually are nice in his day to day slog. He owns a consultancy, is doing his best to help shape the judicial system to make it somewhat fair, and Kazuma is home.

Everything is as it should be.

Yet, he’s still so empty. He’s not entirely sure what’s wrong, but he’s felt this way for a while now. He came home one day and suddenly, he was empty.

Like now...

He finishes washing up the last dish as he forces himself to do another chore of wiping down the counters. He’s trying to get better at that lately.

Ever since Kazuma moved in, he hadn’t realised how messy his home was. Kazuma got frustrated and spent an entire weekend cleaning up the place with such intensity, he was almost terrified. When he asked to help, Kazuma shoo’ed him out, saying this was his way of repaying Ryunosuke for letting him stay there until he got a place of his own.

His end of his trip had been untimely and he had come home early. Though Ryunosuke is glad to have him back home, it's a shame Kazuma understands the lack of accomplishment in a way no one else could.

Regardless of the reason why it had to end so soon, Kazuma has done a lot more than he should to compensate for what he’s calling his failings.

He’s a tornado, giving himself back to back tasks to bury his guilt of lacking his own dreams.

At least they have something to bond over again…

Ryunosuke was supposed to improve the system while Kazuma was gone. Yet…

Nothing has changed. Nothing for the better, anyway.

“Hey, you’ve been in here for a bit.” Kazuma pokes his head in, interrupting his thoughts. He’s in a red hakama with a deep pout on his face. “And the counter’s clean. Why do you keep scrubbing it?”

Ryunosuke jolts his motion with an abrupt halt as he glares down at the rag. The boiling anger of his failures consumes him and he scrubs the counter harder. At least he’ll be good for something. He’ll make himself so.

A gentle, calloused hand grabs his shoulder. Ryunosuke exhales, looking over to see Kazuma’s frown only deepen. “I am glad you’re figuring out to clean and all, but you worked all day too. You need to at least rest. Your fire will burn out if you don’t.”

His fire…

Ryunosuke shuts his eyes closed as he exhales. “It’s already out.”

It's too silent as Ryunosuke admits that.

It's out.

It's been a pattern ever since he was a kid that there wasn't really one there, but the minute it sparked, it now hurts that it's out once more.

“I had a bad feeling.” Kazuma exhales, “I noticed it since I moved in.”

“…That was almost four months ago. Has it really been that noticeable?”

“No, but since I’ve lost mine…I saw the same patterns as I fell into.” Kazuma shakes his head as he continues. “Your apartment was awful so I put it back together. I thought it would help, but as I listened to you complain about work…I could tell your drive had dwindled. Now this. It's clear you're burnt out.”

“I wish it didn’t.” Ryunosuke groans, trying to hold back tears. The frustration is starting to fester into tears. He doesn’t cry often, but it’s always such a pain when he does. He especially hates crying in front of others.

Eventually, the tears fall.

The stress of having to be one of the only lawyers that isn’t scared of the government’s retaliation and fighting for a better future, for it to go nowhere…

It collapses all at once and he’s a sobbing wreck. His knees wobble and a pair of arms wrap around him to keep him afloat. It’s a tight embrace, holding him up as Kazuma rubs his back in a circular motion, trying to calm him down.

Ryunosuke isn’t really much for physical contact, but…

This hug means the world to him.

When he’s able to catch his breath, his own arms wrap around Kazuma’s waist, trying to hold him as close, but his hands are far too shaky to do so.

Kazuma says nothing. He just carries him for a moment longer as Ryunosuke pulls away. “…I better stop wallowing and figure out a solution.”

“Not tonight.” Kazuma instructs with a deep frown.

“Huh?”

Kazuma crosses his arms. “Not tonight. Tonight, we play shogi. Tomorrow will come, and we can figure out a solution then.”

Ryunosuke reluctantly nods. He knows deep down there’s nothing he can do about his situation so late in the evening. Plus, it would be nice just to take his mind off things, even if it’s just for a few hours.

Following Kazuma to the living room, he grabs the board and through a couple cups of tea, the solemn mood lightens up as the two begin to laugh about the small memories they once shared and his small, cramped apartment finally feels like a home.

For a moment, a little spark bustles in his heart once more and Ryunosuke can only hope that's a sign of good things to come.

[itsalltaken]

Maybe In Another Lifetime (Part I)

Steve Harrington x Reader

Synopsis: It’s always been Nancy, but now that she’s with Jonathan, maybe there’s slight hope for you after all.

Words: 974

Warnings: A lil bit of angst and fluff:3

A/n: This can be read as a stand alone and just pure angst, but if you want a happy ending then you guys can read part 2🥰(I suggest reading the part 2 since straight up angst just stings like a bitch) Also, if you want to be tagged when I post, just comment, message, or dm me<3

•~•

“Alright, you guys stay here for a moment” I say as I carefully drop Steve to the other stall of the bathroom “I’ll just get some medical supplies and patch you up as best as I can” I tell Steve before rushing out the door and go in search for my bag.

Nancy had always told me to keep an emergency kit in my bag since I was apparently a klutz and needed it for when I get severely hurt. Even since we were children, I was the one that kept falling down or tripping on rocks, but I guess the one time that I fell when it hurted the most was when I fell for Steve. I mean honestly, I really didn’t mean to, but when Steve had started becoming friendly to me, I couldn’t help but fall. I thought that maybe he liked me, but apparently not, he just wanted to increase his chances in me saying yes to him in helping court Nancy.

Even after they broke up, my heart still couldn’t stop beating for him. The guilt ate me up when Nancy got with Jonathan and I told her the truth. She was forgiving about it and was honest that maybe she and Steve weren’t the best for each other, even going as far as to encourage me to be honest with my feeling- Aha! There it is

Spotting my bag, I rummage through it and practically throw all of the contents out of the bag before finally seeing the small pouch with a red cross on it. Taking it and holding it tight against my chest, I run for the bathroom again, nearly falling a few times and possibly getting face planted. Reaching the door, I was about to yank it open when I hear Steve.

I feel myself smile as I hear his words. Was this the chance I could finally be honest and trust that he reciprocates. I get ready to go inside with my heart beating out of my chest when I hear him say that this girl had helped decode Russian. But I didn’t help decode any Russia-

Robin.

He was talking about Robin

He liked Robin. Not me. Robin

I feel my heart fall back to my stomach and suddenly, I don’t feel it beating out of my chest anymore. It wasn’t beating with excitement. It just stood still. Like time froze.

It was silent inside for a moment, but I could hear low murmuring. Taking that as a sign, I walk inside to see that Steve and Robin were now in the same stall.

If it was possible, my heart would’ve fallen deeper than my stomach. Did she reciprocate and accept his feelings?

Clearing my throat, I approach Steve and kneel down beside him “I uh- I got the kit”

It had been silent for a few moments before Steve broke it off by saying something horrid about Tammy. The both of them started going on and on about Tammy.

Chuckling a little to ease the tension, I sent questionable looks between the two

“So what’s happening?”

The two exchange looks for a moment before Robin takes a deep breath and faces me with a hard look in her eye

“I- I swing the other way, Y/n” ... Huh?

“... I’m sorry. What?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowing

“I... I don’t like... men”

“Oh... Oh... Well... good for you then” I smile, trying to be supportive. It was a surprise, thats for sure, but I’m not just gonna throw away our friendship because she liked women.

Glancing at Steve, I can’t help but wonder how he’s taking all of this. I mean he confessed to the girl that doesn’t like him or his gender. I thought he’d be sad and mopey, but he looked surprisingly calm.

They continued talking for the rest of the time that I was patching up Steve. One I finished coating his puffy eye with the ointment, I keep everything away and lean on the wall beside Robin.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asked me when I let my eyes close for a moment

“Yeah... just tired of all this”

“I guess that makes two of us” Steve jokes, chuckling a little

“Hey Y/n?” Robin asked all of a sudden, shifting her whole body to look at me. I only gave a hum, a tell tale sign of me telling her to continue “Have you ever been in love?”

I pause. Opening my eyes, I look back at her and think for a moment. Have I ever been in love? Definitely. But do I want her to know that? ... I don’t know. She’s my friend though, and it’s not like I’ll be telling her who this person is

“Yeah” I whisper, ignoring the way Steve’s eyes widened from the news “High school”

“No way!” Steve cut in when Robin was about to say something “Who was it?”

“No one that you should worry your prettly little head about” I joke, looking at him then looking back at Robin

“But you’ve only been around Nancy in our highschool” Steve muttered, looking down, deep in thought

“Oh my go-” I immediately put my hand over Robin’s mouth when her eyes had widened and pointed at me. Her eyes practically swimming in shock and excitement. Somehow this slightly drugged Robin was able to catch on faster than the sober Robin

“If you want to live another day, Robin. I suggest you shut up” I whisper at her, thankful that Steve was still muttering to himself on who I could’ve possibly loved in high school

“Mhm” She hummed lowly, nodding her head as I slowly let go of her mouth. Without saying anything else, she leaned back against the wall and appeared to be deep in though, as was I.

First it was Nancy, then it was Robin. Maybe I’d have my luck in another life.

•~•

[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter 13

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 1129

Warnings: n/a (light angst maybe?)

Easton had been trying his best to put the much smaller ranger at ease, but so far, he’d had little success. He didn’t so much as feel offended at Dave’s nervousness as he did guilty. He felt his stomach sink a little every time he saw Dave jump, knowing all too well he was the cause of his fear. Easton might have grown more accustomed to fear being a common response to his presence, but he certainly didn’t like it.

“You okay?” John’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked down at the tiny government agent. He nodded.

“Yeah. Just thinking,” he said.

“About a certain coworker?” John guessed. Easton blinked in surprise.

“How’d you know?” He asked.

“Well, you’re set to work with him in…about thirty minutes, and I’ve heard there might be…some issues between you two.”

“I wouldn’t say issues,” Easton began, trailing off. “Anyways, I can’t believe it’s almost noon already.”

John seemed to go along with the subject change, much to his relief. He didn’t really feel like trying to untangle his mess of thoughts about the situation with Dave outloud - he hadn’t even succeeded in doing so in his head.

“Time flies,” John said with a shrug. It seemed the proved true, as before Easton knew it, he was sitting outside the visitor center. As usual, he made sure to sit down far enough away from the building itself that he couldn’t accidentally bump into it. Speaking of terrifying things, how incredibly fragile everything seemed on Earth had yet to stop freaking Easton out. He wasn’t sure if it ever would, or if he even wanted it to, given that the anxiety he felt about damaging anything seemed to help in staying vigilant.

The multi story building behind him, for instance, was a constant source of stress when it came to doing something as simple as even leaning back.

Easton had barely gotten settled when the first group of tourists hurried up to him. It was when he was talking to them about their trip that he saw Dave walk up. The smaller man gave him a stiff wave, and he responded with a less stiff, and hopefully friendly, nod. When the group walked away, he greeted Dave properly.

“How’s it going?” Easton asked.

“Good,” Dave said, expression neutral. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Easton said. There was an unusual lack of visitors that afternoon, which left the silence between them hanging heavily.

“Have you gotten to explore the park much yet?” Easton asked finally, deciding that seemed like a safe enough topic.

“A little,” Dave said. “Angie and I went on a hike the other day.”

“How’d it go?” Easton asked.

“It was nice,” Dave said.

“That’s good,” Easton said. The silence between them returned. This time, it was thankfully broken up by the appearance of a couple. Both seemed equally excited to meet Easton, a welcome change of pace. He risked a quick glance towards Dave as he turned to greet them, guilt gnawing at his stomach once more.

The couple, as it turned out, were a pair of influencers who had countless questions for Easton. Mostly about Aphiria, and some about himself. He tried to answer them the best he could. Dave’s small, tense form was never far from his mind the entire time. He silently wished there was something he could do to put his coworker at ease. He wondered if he should try to talk to him about it directly. Or if that would just make things worse - he definitely didn’t want to make Dave even more uncomfortable.

As the evening rolled around, the trickle of visitors grew steadily slower. Angie showed up about thirty minutes before their shift ended.

“Dave! I was going to go stargazing tonight, what do you think?” She asked.

Easton pretended to be staring off into the distance, feeling a familiar pang of wishing he was included. That wasn’t an Earth specific problem - it was one he’d grown all too used to during his childhood, with both family and peers alike generally overlooking him.

“Sure, I’m down,” Dave said. He paused. “Hey, Easton, do you want to join?”

Easton didn’t reply for a moment, first considering whether or not he was hallucinating as he looked down at his two miniscule coworkers.

“Um, I don’t want to intrude-“ he started, still wondering if he’d heard Dave right.

“You wouldn’t be,” Dave said. It took everything he had to keep the shocked expression off his face. Dave was the absolute last person he’d expected to invite him anywhere.

“Yeah, you should totally come!” Angie chimed in.

“I’ll have to check with John,” Easton said. The IMA Agent had ducked inside to use the restroom a few moments prior to Angie’s arrival.

“If he says yes, though?” Angie pressed.

“Um, yeah. That sounds fun,” Easton said, suddenly acutely aware of how awkward he sounded. He wasn’t sure how he managed to talk to tourists all day, and yet was currently struggling to carry on a single conversation. It was then another visitor approached them, and Angie took that as her cue to leave.

“Cool. Well, I’m going to get dinner, so I’ll see you guys later?” Angie asked.

“Sounds good,” Dave said.

Easton spent the rest of the shift in borderline disbelief. A part of him hoped there’d be another lull in visitors so he could talk to Dave, while another part wasn’t even sure what he’d say. As it turned out, they stayed fairly busy until the shift ended, and afterwards, Dave headed off while John asked him how things had gone.

“Good,” Easton said slowly. He paused. “Angie and Dave asked if I wanted to go stargazing with them. I told them I’d have to ask you.”

“I think that’d be fine. You’ll follow all the normal rules, of course?” John said. Easton nodded.

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Then, it’s fine with me. Could be good to get to know them better,” John said with a smile.

Next chapter

[mrssimply]

13th: Servitude

So, this one was unprompted. Indeed, since I didn't gather enough prompts over Tumblr at the time, I decided to use this event as a motivator to do all the projects I once said I would do and never did. Mainly, I purged "The List", which was that damned list of ideas and concept we all have. Let me tell, you, this event allowed me to strike A LOT of items.

And this is one of them.

This idea was "prompted" by the game itself, by the patch that brought more text interractions between V and their love interests. In one of them, V brags to Panam about knowing Kerry, and Panam says she is a fan. Then, there was also the fact the game never adresses the fact you can have multiple partners without really talking about it. I always wondered what would be Panam and Kerry's reaction to that.

Finaly, I love both Panam and Kerry, I find them both extreemly hot so... Since I have the power of words, I made it happen.

Hope this unusual pairing will make you curious enough to try it, reader. It would make my day to know what you think of this :D!

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

Oh and since it'll probably be the only Kerry/panam/V fic ever, I made it E-rated.

When V kissed Kerry the first time, Johnny stayed silent until they were back in his flat. Then, he sprawled on the couch, feet up on the table and grinned at V: “So, what are you gonna say to Panam?” he asked, hands behind his head. “Man, can’t wait to see her reaction.”

Unfortunately for Johnny, he never saw the moment it happened because, by a series of events, the secret lasted for a while. Nearly a year.

Said events included: storming the Arasaka Tower, going on a trip across the NUSA to look for a cure without results, coming back to NC at Kerry’s request, getting a very expensive treatment the rocker paid for, recovering while Panam kept the Aldecaldos moving around, and finally, inheriting the Afterlife when he was back on his two feet.

During all this, V lived in a constant low level of guilt and fear. Guilt was obvious, because what he was doing was so wrong, but when it started he’d been dying, knee deep into a megacorp familial drama. Then he was still dying but with a six month extension… V took it as some sort of revenge on life: if he had no time to live, then he would make the most of it. Now that it appeared he had a whole century ahead of him, well, the guilt was back in full force.

Fear was maybe understandable: he feared to lose them both the moment they discovered how he’d betrayed their trust. But while this self-centered concern was maybe common, V also had a very concrete fear of not surviving the event, because both his lovers were a bit crazy when it came to love matters and being cheated on. 

V remembers very well a number of stories Johnny told him about how Kerry thrashed cars and burnt the belongings of his exes, and sometimes even started fights with them Johnny had had to finish for him (with cracked ribs for the cheating guy). There was also the very real threat of Kerry sicking a horde of angry fans on him, since that had happened at least five times already, and twice with media exposure because the exes had been minor celebrities. They never performed ever again after that.

As for Panam, Mitch and Carol took vicious joy in recounting the time Panam discovered her input was seeing three other girls, one in each city they traveled to. They told V how she drove him into the middle of the desert under the pretense of a romantic night, only to leave him there without water but with busted coms. The guy nearly died, apparently, which the Aldecaldos seemed to think was just what he deserved. And finally, V remembers well what she did to the guy who betrayed her thrust and stolen her car… And Nash had only been her business partner. 

So really, as time went on, V went deeper and deeper into his lie and soon, he could see no way out but his death at either of their hands, as dramatic as it sounded.

The day it happens, V isn’t prepared. He is in the middle of a job up north, trudging through the oil field after dealing with the last of Jotaro’s minions. A job he’s getting paid for but V would have done it gratis if the families hadn’t insisted on paying him.

He’s covered in blood and dark smelly dirt when he receives a first text from Panam: “you’re dead to me.”

“Fuck,” he curses out loud, stopping in his tracks as his heart suddenly goes into overdrive. He tries to call her but of course she doesn’t pick up. In the meantime, he receives another text, from Kerry this time.

“Congrats, I think you beat Johnny on the asshole scale.”

Trying to call him doesn’t work either, so V stays in the middle of the waste and sighs, looking up to the sky. The sky’s answer is a downpour. Talk about Karma.

-

V holes himself in the Afterlife. Kerry’s and Panam’s biometrics are in his smart home system, meaning they can both access it, so it’s the least safe place at the moment. He tells Emmerick very firmly to not let anyone looking like a Eurodyne fan or an Aldecaldos washup in. The bouncer replies that description fits about two thirds of their clientele, but V ignores him and goes to the bar. As always, Claire gives him the silent treatment, since she’s still not forgiven him for going on with the race instead of helping her kill Peter Samson. As he rounds the bar with the intent of pouring his own drink, she gives him a smirk and that stops him in his tracks.

She looks very satisfied with herself.

“What did you do?” he suddenly asks.

She leans against the counter, arms crossed and her face full of a gleeful malice. V expected her to resign when Rogue announced she was trusting the Afterlife to him, since she probably wouldn’t like working for him, but she stayed and he felt too guilty to pry into her reasons for not quitting. He’d naively thought this meant she was on her way to understand why he hadn’t let her go through with her murderous plan.

“Since you were too sick to celebrate your birthday, Kerry decided Christmas was the occasion to do a big party with all your friends. Celebrate your recovery and all that. He asked me if he could rent the place discreetly, and asked about some of your friends. I told him not to forget to invite the Aldecaldos,” Claire explains.

Shock stuns V and he gapes at her. This was very deliberate on her part! He realizes that, of course, she knows about his two affairs. Being the bartender, she hears everything and V has received both Panam and Kerry here. Weyland and Emmerick probably know, too, hell, maybe half the regulars know about it… But none of them decided to use that against him. Claire did.

“Fuck, are you insane?!” He barks, getting into her face.

“Now you know what losing someone you love feels like!”

V’s face contorts into a series of painful expressions: anger, despair, a profound melancholy. It seems to surprise Claire, for she uncrosses her arms with a confused expression.

V sighs, closes his eyes for a second before turning away from her. A few patrons are looking at them with eager expressions; there is no worse gossip than a bored mercs.

“Take a few days,” V says to Claire and she stiffens, walking past him after a second of hesitation. He catches her wrist.

“I’m not firing you, but I really need to not see your face for a few days. Try to think about what you’ve done in the meantime.”

“I won’t apologize,” she taunts.

“Me neither, Claire. I tried to be a friend to you, and I really hoped you would understand my choice. If you can’t, that’s fine, but what you did is fuckin childish.”

He keeps his tone gentle, tries to convey the honesty of his intentions and maybe for the first time, she gets it. Her gaze trails downard before she wrenches her hand free.

“You’ll get paid leave,” V concludes as she walks away.

He waits until she’s disappeared behind the corner of the entrance before turning back to the mercs at the bar.

“Something on my face?” he snarls, and they all get super invested in the bottom of their drinks.

Shit, he needs to find someone to replace Claire till the end of the week. And then try to deal with the mess she created. He can’t even be mad at her for long: he had it coming.

-

Two days later, V tried calling either of his… exes so many times he stopped counting. He’s probably been blocked but he can’t help but try. He hired two mercs to try and see if Kerry was in his home, then called Mitch who told him to get lost, then Carol, who replied with a poop emoticon, then the rest of the Aldecaldos, who didn’t pick up. For a hot second, V wished Saul was still alive, he would’ve at least answered V. He sent flowers to Kerry yesterday, and had the same two mercs deliver a whole shipment of components to the Aldecaldos camp. The mercs came back with the packages and bullets in their trucks.

Sighing, he brings his glass of Johnny Silverhand to his lips — the guy filling in for Claire is a fast learner, thank god for small mercies — and lets his head rest against the back of what used to be Rogue’s couch. 

The club is nearly empty as the clock reaches three in the morning, an hour where mercs are out on jobs and clients in bed at home. In the relative silence, V allows himself to experience a moment of despair. What if it’s really the end? 

Distantly, he can hear Johnny’s voice saying something about gonk wannabe mercs in a long suffering voice.

“Fuck,” he whispers, only to be startled by a ping on his holo, the special notification signal he put for Panam’s number.

It’s a picture, that he opens with trepidation only for his lungs to collapse on themselves like he’s been punched. 

The picture is taken from her view, allowing V to see the perfect expanse of her body, the soft slope of her breasts, the curve of her stomach, down to her spread legs. Between them is Kerry, eating her out, both hands gripping her thighs and holding her open for him. He is looking up, mouth pressed against her clit and looking rightly debauched with his hair mussed by her free hand.

The pic brings a lot of confusing emotions to V’s: lust is the first one, powerful and sudden, because this is his ultimate fantasy, the one he barely dared to think about even in his wildest dreams. With how jealous they both can be, he’s always thought he would lose one, if not both. No, he’s always known he would lose both. 

Then comes jealousy, pure and simple, because what he wanted so much is happening without him, and it feels so unfair, which is probably exactly what they wanted him to feel. 

Then comes another strong wave of despair because yeah, they are pissed. He doesn’t know what to do, what to answer, so he just keeps on drinking.

-

Later, he receives another text, this one is a vocal and he fears listening to it, but he does anyway. It’s them, panting and moaning. He knows just from the way Panam keens that she came a little before because these are the sounds she makes when she is over sensitive. Kerry is close, so close. Another ten seconds of hearing them curse and grunt and Kerry moans out loud, long and nearly painful as his climax hits him. 

V throws the empty glass at the wall and curses out loud, making the few patrons and his new bartender look up at him. He realizes he is standing, breathing like a bull with chaos churning in his head. With a dejected look, he stalks to the backroom to prepare for an excursion in NC’s shadier parts, looking for a fight. 

-

It’s two more days before he receives another text, this one from Kerry. V dreads opening it but by now, the painful sensation of heartbreak has fully settled in and a little bit more agony is nothing. It’s just a text, this time, and it says “meet us at your place, we wanna talk.”

He sits up on the couch, reading over the text once more to make sure he got it right. His Kiroshis flash with a warning about his BPM, but he doesn’t care. He’s shaking as he replies that he will be there asap.

He stumbles in the dark of the backroom of the Afterlife, having stayed with the light off since he came in to… Meditate. Sulk, Johnny’s voice says, you were sulking. Funny how his conscience now has Johnny’s voice.

-

When he gets into the flat, he does it warily, he’s still not sure they don’t plan on killing him and burying his corpse in the badland. On the other side of the room, Kerry is sprawled on the couch in his usual attire, complete with the glasses that prevent V from reading his expression. Panam leans against the window to Kerry’s left, one foot against the glass, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl. Both are lit with the dying sun, and seeing them reunited in the same space for the first time is unreal. So close from his deepest wish, and yet, so, so far from how he would have wanted it.

Since none of them say a thing, he gets closer and stops when he’s right in front of the coffee table standing between him and Kerry, with Panam on the edge of his field of vision. 

Kerry drums his fingers on the back of the couch.

“So?”

V swallows.

“I fucked up.”

“Yeah,” the rocker replies.

“I’m sorry,” V continued, turning his head to address Panam. She looks to the side, her jaw tightening.

“I should have told you, both of you. There was never a right time ‘cause of the whole relic thing,” he tries to explain, “then I was dying… After that, I don’t know, I just didn’t know how to tell you,” he admits.

Kerry winces, like he always does when V mentions his near death experience, and runs a hand over his mouth before frowning.

“I don’t give a shit about your justifications, V,” Panam intervenes. “I trusted you, we both did, and all this time you were fucking with us!”

“No!” He pleads, turning to her, and if he thought it would sway her, he would fall on his knees, “never, I… I don’t know how to explain this right, it’s just… I really love you, both of you!”

“You’re an asshole,” Panam cries out, but V can tell she hadn’t expected a love confession. He never told her, he told neither, because he was dying, because he felt guilty.

Kerry shifts on the couch.

“Yeah well, that’s great, but you didn’t give us the full disclosure. Didn’t give us a choice to decide if we wanted to be with you or not under the circumstances.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I was scared of losing you. I was selfish, I know. I wanted everything. It’s just… I was dying, there was no time, I just wanted to live everything all at once.”

He knows he can’t put everything on his sickness, it won’t go, but it’s the truth. He wishes he could accuse Johnny, tell them it’s the wires that got crossed while the engram inhabited his mind, but he knows it’s not: it was pure survival instincts, and latent assholeness. 

“You’re lucky, though,” Kerry continues, not looking at him, “We’re very understanding people.”

V refrains from reacting in any way and he can feel the tension as they both wait for him to call them on such a lie. He doesn’t, he’s not stupid.

“We talked it out,” Panam goes on, “We… fuck, maybe it could work.”

This, V didn’t expect. His heart speeds up, hope flaring in his chest.

“Thing is, V, we both care about you and well, at least you picked someone decent to fuck me over,” Kerry intervenes, grinning at Panam who smiles at him sheepishly and will wonders never cease? V can barely believe it as he takes a shuddering breath.

Kerry holds out his hand to the Aldecaldos’ leader and she goes to him, slipping her hand in his. V watches the rocker’s fingers close around her palm as he pulls her in until she stands right next to him. Panam looks a bit starstruck and V remembers she is a fan, too, and maybe this feels a bit like a dream to her as well.

Between the three of them, and despite his questionable maturity on some things, Kerry is the one who’s got the most experience when it comes to relationships: he has tried a lot of things and V knows he’d been in polyamory circles a few times. V was more worried about Panam, who has such difficulties opening up to any partner, and through her bravado, V can tell she is insecure. But Kerry seems to have proved himself trustworthy because she looks relaxed as she lets herself be guided. Kerry really likes her, V realizes, because he’s looking at her like he looked at V in the beginning of their relationship: like she is cuter than she ought to be, like he shouldn’t be getting into this at his age but he’ll do it anyway. His gaze is tender and honest, and Panam looks the same.

“Fuck, thank you, yes, please,” V babbles, taking a step toward them.

He freezes when they both turn their gaze toward him, throwing him a warning look. V raises his hands in a placating gesture. Ok, so, there might be a positive end to this, but he hasn’t reached it yet.

“Now, we can’t reward bad behavior, V,” Kerry declares, stroking Panam’s hip, the patch of naked skin between her pants and her bodysuit. “You’re gonna have to work for it.”

“Anything, please, just give me a chance,” he vows instantly.

Kerry glances at him for a second.

“How long have you been hiding that from us? About a year, right?”

Panam nods and V winces.

“Then let’s say you owe us a year of servitude. Whatever we want, whatever we ask of you.”

Shit, trust Kerry to have such ideas. He feels like herakles being tasked with the twelve impossible tasks.

“Sure,” he answers, like he has any other choice.

“Great,” the rocker cheers with a devious smile. “Then get on your knees, and crawl here.”

V isn’t surprised Kerry elected sex to test V’s willingness to work for forgiveness. It’s a very important part of the rocker’s life, and a way of expressing himself. At nearly ninety, Kerry is still one of the most sexually active men V met. Panam, being a nomad, was raised in an environment were sex was part of daily life: the lack of soundproofing between the tents meant anyone was always more or less aware of who was having sex with whom, even if they tries to stay discreet for the kids. But so far, their sex life had been pretty vanilla, if only due to the fact they didn’t have a lot of time, between V’s recovery and Panam’s duties. 

So his situation is not surprising when it comes to Kerry, it’s a bit more surprising when it comes to Panam but sure, V won’t lie and say he’s not up for it.

-

After going down on them downstairs, alternating between sucking Kerry’s cock and eating Panam out while they kissed, they went upstairs. There, V was told to undress and get on all four on the bed, which he did. 

“Ever pegged him, Pan?” Kerry asks and V distantly notes that they’re using pet names already and feels a bit cheated, but he can’t really complain. He doesn't hear her reply, but Kerry hums.

“Well, wanna try it? I think he would look good taking it from you.”

V curses slowly and turns his head slightly. Panam is looking at him and he approves discreetly to reassure her, if she needs it. She turns back to Kerry with a smile and nods.

“Perfect, got just the thing with me!” Kerry grins and V chuckles. He planned this.

Since no one is objecting to him watching, he does. Kerry brings back a strap and a big black dildo and V’s mouth waters at the same time a thrill passes through him. The thing is huge.

Panam smirks as she takes it in hand, stroking the length once as if to test its texture and hardness. When she nods again, Kerry winks at her and comes closer. Gently, like he nearly never is with V, he kisses Panam. It’s a teasing kiss, brushes of lips against her mouth, fleeting licks of tongues and soft bites. But Panam is as fiery as Kerry is, and soon she is kissing back without restrain, making Kerry hold her closer, tighter. He lets out a small noise of pleasure that goes straight to V’s cock. They might have come earlier but he didn’t and once the feeling of unrealness passed, he’s been very eager to live this through. Kerry is still kissing Panam as he finishes undressing her and she does the same for him. It’s quite the spectacle, one that V enjoys with greedy eyes. He watches Kerry pinch Panam’s nipples through her bodice, watches her fingers run over Kerry’s ass to bring him closer, teasing him like he teases her. Like they’re both teasing V.

Once they’re naked too, Kerry kisses Panam’s neck and slides behind her. He mouths at each knob of her spine as he kneels behind her to put the strap on. She lifts a leg then the other to get into the panties. It’s a pretty thing, it looks comfortable and even has some lacework on the edge. The dildo is standing proudly, snugly fit against her pubes. 

“All set,” Kerry purrs, stroking her ass and even giving her a little slap. She laughs and comes closer to the bed. Seeing her walk like this makes V’s mouth water.

“Want me to prep him?” the rocker asks.

“Let's do it together.”

They do so and it’s a sweet torture. Panam’s fingers trail over his hard dick before sliding behind to his taint while Kerry gets the lube. He even warms it between his fingers before joining the nomad’s pointer over V’s hole. Together, they rub over it, smearing lube over his rim, pushing in teasingly, adding more and more lube as they press inside. 

“Shit,” Panam curses, “this is —”

“Hot, right?” Kerry suggests and V turns once again to watch them. 

Panam’s gaze is stuck on his ass, but Kerry is looking at her with a small smile at the corner of his lips. The merc gets the feeling he was lucky in hindsight, cause apparently Panam’s charms worked on Kerry like they did on V, despite the fact that few women hold his attention. The young fixer hides his satisfied smile against the pillow, and arches his back more.

“C’mon, he can take it, trust me,” Kerry encourages her and V feels two fingers push inside his hole. He clenches and relaxes around them with a small moan that makes her laugh.

“Can I touch you?” The older man asks the nomad.

“Yeah,” she breathes out and V watches as Kerry’s fingers go to play with her breasts, leaning in to suck on one as he pinches the other. As pleasure rises inside of Panam once again, her movements get a bit more forceful, and soon she is adding more lube and a finger. V curses, pushes back against her because he really wants it, now that they started.

He hears Kerry shift until he’s kneeling in front of V. His cock is still soft but that doesn't stop the merc from putting his lips around it to suckle. His partner chuckles, strokes his mouth with a thumb tenderly. 

“Look at you, becoming all slutty for us. You like that?”

V bites Kerry’s thumb softly.

“You can’t imagine how much,” he mumbles, “I only dreamed it so many times.”

Kerry’s eyes sadden for a moment.

“You should have just told us.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Kerry nods, then his blue eyes flicker to Panam and they seem to have a silent exchange before the rockers sigh.

“The things we do for love,” he mutters and V’s heart soars in his chest because this really sounds like a confession. He smiles, gives Kerry a hopeful look and gets rewarded by a kiss. 

Panam pulls her fingers out and grips V’s cheeks apart, nails digging into his skin and making him moan into Kerry’s mouth.

“I’m really gonna enjoy that,” she confesses and V snorts, looking over his shoulder to wink at her.

“Go wild, I’ll like it,” he tells her and she shuffles closer, gripping his short hair with a hand, forcing his head back.

“Yeah, you will.”

“Shit, Panam…”

She releases him after biting his shoulder, and he hears her uncap the lube once more, and then the squishy sounds of her hand working over the toy. V forces himself to relax and strains for another kiss from Kerry.

The push is exhilarating. It’s too much, but it’s also just right. Panam goes slow, panting and cursing as this obviously turns her on more than she expected. He can feel her getting all tense, like she is resisting the urge to buck into him. 

In and out she goes, something an inch or two, sometimes completely out to lube the dildo once more. When she bottoms out, both her and V moan. Kerry gives them a sharp smile, lust fiery in his eyes.

“Good kittens,” he calls them, all paternal, and V groans again because this is too much. Even in his wildest dream he didn’t dare imagine that. Panam huffs out a laugh and flexes her hips, testing the waters. 

V keens and pushes back, asshole spasming around the toy. 

“Fuck,” Panam moans, snapping her hips forward. She grips V’s waist and does it again, once, twice, a third time and each time, V lets out a guttural noise. 

Panam pulls out completely before getting in again in one long push, making V sag against Kerry’s lap, who pets him gently.

“That’s right, you’re doing great,” he says to Panam, or to V. Both.

It doesn’t take much more for them to build a rhythm. The dildo is huge, and he’s making V’s spine tingle every time it brushes against his prostate. He has taken to licking Kerry’s cock, unable to do much more but needing to have something in his mouth because this is driving him crazy. Panam’s hips move so right against him, she really is fucking him good.

After a while, she speeds up, little thrusts that are jarring because it means V gets no reprieve from the sensations. As he moans continuously, Kerry praises him and caresses his hair, his neck, his shoulders, massaging a bit.

Panam’s nails are really digging into his flesh now, leaving angry red trails behind and making V shudder in pleasure.

“Ok, ease up, he’s close,” Kerry interjects and fuck, he’s right, but V was so deep into his head he didn’t realizes.

He makes them shift so that V is practically sitting back on Panam, arms around Kerry’s shoulders. The man kisses him and wraps a hand around V’s cock..

“Alright, finish him,” he tells the woman.

Panam obeys with a little nervous laugh. She starts bucking into V again while Kerry strokes his cock.

“Harder,” Kerry orders and the merc moans, panting against the musician’s cheek.

“Fuck, yes, ok, take it,” Panam babbles, giving her thrusts more power until she is really going wild and V is holding on for dear life. He won’t last.

“Harder,” Kerry repeats and the nomad whines like she is the one getting railed but she complies and V just can’t breathe. He hiccups, emits a strangled noise before tensing and burying his face against Kerry’s neck. The man pulls him back by the hair.

“Let her hear you.”

So he does, he moans out loud, cries out as the orgasm explodes inside him. V curses, tears escaping his eyes pathetically but he can’t care less when this is one of the most intense climaxes he’s ever had.

He shivers as he comes down, pelvis trembling back and forth like he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“That’s right, look at you,” Kerry whispers against his lips before kissing him for real. V lets him do it, barely able to respond but whining for more when his partner leans back.

“Ok, you can pull out now,” he tells Panam, who does so very slowly but with the state he is in, V feels it down to his feet and shudders again with a confused noise. Still caressing him, Kerry makes him lean on his back.

“Look at what you did to him,” the older man praises and Panam lets out a wild laugh.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Power of the prostate, babe.”

“Hm, should test that on you…” she replies before tensing and giving him a worried look, but Kerry just smiles.

“If you want, it would be my pleasure, trust me. In the meantime, let’s get you out of that.”

With bleary eyes, V watches them shift until Panam is on her back, letting Kerry pull the strap off her legs. Then he smiles and teasingly runs a finger up from her cunt to her clit and she moans sweetly. The nomad’s legs spread apart on their own volition and Kerry’s smile turns predatory.

“Want me to take care of you?” He asks. She glances at V, who turns to her and uses the little strength he has to push up and kiss her. She welcomes him with a sigh, he feels her relax as they reconcile through the caresses of their lips and tongues.

When they part, V gives her a soft smile, and mouths another “I’m sorry”. She closes her eyes, exhales long and deep but when she opens her eyes he finds her back. She, who stormed Arasaka with him, who fought side by side with him, who mischievously took him for a ride in a Panzer. Panam smiles at him and gives him one last kiss before turning back to Kerry, who’s watching them with hungry eyes.

“Sure,” she says with a grin, tilting her hips in invitation. 

This is gonna be a great show, V can tell.

---

You can find the prompt list here.

Every fic will be posted on my AO3 Account here.

[ziptiesnfries]

Discovered

(Part 5 of the Business Trip Arc)

Previous - Masterpost

Content warnings: pet whump, manhandling, police violence, dehumanization

Lynx wakes blearily to sunlight streaming through the window, and it takes them a second to remember where they are. Right. They stayed over with Colby and friends. They’re surprised they even stayed the whole night, but then again, this couch is a lot more comfortable than the floor of their crate. They actually slept well, for once.

They roll off the couch and head into the kitchen, where Colby and Shannon are already rummaging around. Colby’s face brightens when they walk in. “Good morning! I’m making toast, do you want any?”

“Oh, um, sure.” They sit down at the little kitchen table, still trying to figure out how to leave. They don’t want to pass up free food, even if they feel guilty about taking it—they have no idea when they’ll be able to eat next. But they’ve already stayed too long.

They’d hoped this little unplanned stay would give them time to figure out a plan, but they still don’t have one. They’ll just keep moving, they guess. That’s the only thing they can do. Maybe along the way somewhere, they’ll figure something out.

Brett and Jason stumble in while Lynx is eating their toast. The two boys grab some food from the kitchen and then slump next to each other on the couch, still groggy as they idly scroll through their phones. Lynx looks over just in time to see Jason glancing away from them—he’d been staring. He nudges Brett, showing him something on his phone.

A cold feeling washes over Lynx, and they stand abruptly. “Uh, thanks for letting me stay with you guys, but I should get going—”

Brett and Jason exchange a glance as they stand up. “Hey, wait a second,” says Jason.

Lynx starts towards the door, but before they can get there, Jason steps into their path, uncomfortably close. They back away, glancing towards the back door, but Brett’s already standing in front of it.

Lynx’s heart starts pounding. “Listen,” they say, their voice hardening, “I have to go.”

Shannon stands by the counter, her eyes darting between the two boys. Colby steps forward as his eyes narrow. “Jason, what are you—”

Jason makes a grab for Lynx. They try to dodge him, but his hand wraps around their arm, and he pushes them against the kitchen table. Before they can even process it, he’s yanking down the collar of their sweatshirt, exposing their designation number tattoo.

They gasp, trying to squirm away, as Jason leans back to show the others. “See? I told you!”

“Get off me!” Lynx snaps, their nails digging into Jason’s arm as they try to wrench him away.

He lets go. Lynx stumbles, pulling up the collar of their shirt to hide the tattoo. But Colby and Shannon are both staring at Lynx with wide eyes—they saw it.

Lynx backs up against the wall as Jason pulls out his phone. “I saw this post about a missing pet in the area,” he explains, “and it looks exactly like them! Look! The number matches up, too. They’re a pet.”

Colby’s eyes dart over to Lynx, confusion and betrayal evident on his face. “Lynx?” he asks quietly.

“We should call their owner,” Brett says.

“No!” All eyes turn towards Lynx as they press back against the wall, their eyes darting between the others as they try to find a way out. “You can’t—he’ll fucking kill me for this.”

“Maybe we should call the cops,” Shannon suggests, looking worried. But she’s looking at the others, not Lynx—as if they’re not worth addressing anymore. “What if the owner thinks we stole them or something? We should have a chance to explain, so that we don’t get accused of anything.”

“Good idea,” says Jason, already on his phone.

Lynx opens their mouth to protest, but Brett cuts them off. “And what the fuck is going on here, anyway? Aren’t pets supposed to be, like, obedient?” He turns to Lynx, confusion and disgust evident on his face. “Why were you pretending to be a human?”

They wince, guilt and shame rushing through them. He clearly doesn’t know anything about pets, so his opinion shouldn’t matter, but it still stings. At the same time, though, they’re bitterly furious. Why was I pretending to be human? Shit, I don’t know, maybe it’s because I have an owner who will fucking kill me for misbehaving?

They shake their head, gritting their teeth. “Just—just let me go. No one has to know about this.”

“We can’t just let a pet loose on the streets,” Jason cuts back in, looking up from his phone. “Some of my relatives have pets, and those things can’t do anything for themselves—they wouldn’t survive a day on their own.”

The way he called the pets things isn’t lost on Lynx, but they don’t have time to worry about that. “Well, I already did,” Lynx snaps, “so I think I’ll be fucking fine.”

Jason stares at them doubtfully for a moment. Then he taps his screen and raises the phone to his ear. “Uh, yeah, I found someone’s lost pet—”

Lynx lunges for him, jabbing a bony elbow into his side as they attempt to push past. He yells, and Shannon shrieks as she stumbles back to avoid Lynx. Jason’s fingers hook on the collar of Lynx’s shirt, and the fabric nearly chokes them as he hauls them backwards.

Arms wrap around them from behind, lifting them off their feet and pinning their arms to their sides. “Quit squirming,” Brett snaps in their ear.

Lynx kicks at his shins, struggling in his grip. “Get off me!” they yell. “Let me go!”

As Brett stumbles backwards with them, they hear Jason still on the phone. “Yeah, it’s being aggressive—do you guys have, like, animal control for these things?”

Lynx’s breaths come in short, panicked gasps as Brett carries them towards one of the bedrooms. “Colby—a little help, here?” he asks.

Colby has been standing silently by the counter, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. Lynx catches his gaze. They almost want to plead with him, beg for his help. He looks conflicted—maybe he would try to help them.

But his expression turns neutral as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to rid himself of any wayward thoughts. “Yeah, of course.”

Lynx’s struggles slow for a moment as they feel a weight drop in their chest. But what were they expecting? He’d never help them. They shouldn’t have hoped for it.

Brett kicks open the bedroom door, with Colby following closely behind. Lynx continues kicking and writhing, even as Brett’s grip tightens. “Get the closet,” he says.

Colby obeys, his movements almost robotic as he opens a narrower door to a small, dark space. Lynx shakes their head rapidly. “No, don’t, p—” The word please almost slips out, to their horror, but they’re cut off as Brett drops them unceremoniously and shoves them inside.

They stumble into the back wall, just barely catching themself, and the door slams behind them. They whirl around, the door rattling as they bang their fists against it. “Let me out!” they cry, frantically turning the knob. They didn’t see a lock, but the shadow at the bottom of the frame tells them that Brett’s weight is holding it closed.

Brett scoffs. “Not a chance. Now why don’t you be a good, quiet little pet while we wait for the cops to get here?”

“Fuck you!” Lynx’s fists pound against the door a few extra times before their breath hitches, and they let their arms fall. They rest their forehead against the wood and squeeze their eyes shut. They shouldn’t have accepted Colby’s offer. They should have just walked away and kept to themself instead of getting into this mess.

They shouldn’t have tried to escape from Kennedy’s hotel room, either, but they can’t bring themself to regret that part.

It’s not long before they hear sirens wailing in the distance. They grit their teeth, pressing back against the wall as they listen to the heavy footfalls moving through the house, the serious, authoritative voices giving directions, asking questions. Brett’s shadow in front of the door is replaced with several others. Lynx tenses.

The door flings open, flooding the dark closet with sudden light. There’s nowhere for Lynx to escape the heavy, gloved hands descending upon them, pulling them out into the open. A boot kicks the backs of their legs, and they crash to their knees. Their arms are wrenched behind their back, cuffs snapping around their wrists. A cheap, nylon collar digs into their throat, fastened too tight.

They hiss in pain as a gloved hand grabs their hair, wrenching their head back. They can’t hold back the whimper that escapes when they see the muzzle descending over their face. Strands of hair get caught in the straps, pulling painfully as the buckles lock into place.

Someone yanks them to their feet, two sets of hands gripping their skinny arms as they’re dragged out of the bedroom. Out in the kitchen, the cops are talking to everyone separately. Lynx barely registers what’s being said around them, only catching snippets of conversation. Shannon looks almost scared as Lynx passes by, and an officer puts a hand on her arm, reassuring her that Lynx is harmless now. Jason and Brett both glare, but Jason is the one who hisses the word freak at them.

Lynx’s struggles are half-hearted now, their head hanging. They practically let the officers take them from the house. But their head snaps up when they see Colby talking to a cop near the front door. He meets their gaze, his eyes widening as he takes in the muzzle, the collar, the handcuffs.

He bites his lip and looks away.

Lynx’s face flushes with humiliation, and they’re distracted enough to stumble on the threshold. One of the officers irritably yanks at their collar, dragging them down the steps. The front door slams shut behind them.

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 5: A Sleepless Dream

Fandom: Inception

Pairing: Robert Fischer x OC

Summary: While on a business trip, Alice and Robert’s repressed feelings for one another begin to present problems.

Word Count: 5,096  

Notes: Now they both need to be sent to horny jail. Warnings for depictions of sexual content and masturbation.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic  

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Chapter 6: Play Pretend

“So I have some bad news.”

Looking up from her book, she watched as he lifted the feet she’d had sprawled out on the couch so he could sit down, immediately settling them in his lap the moment he was situated. Robert’s fingers stroked mindlessly along her ankle as he spoke.

“What?”

“My penthouse in Los Angeles is going to still be under construction while we’re there, so we’ll have to stay in a hotel.”

Every two weeks, Robert had to fly to Los Angeles for work. As his assistant, it was expected that Alice would accompany him during those trips. A relief, to be honest. She didn’t like the idea of being separated from him for so long.

Maybe she was getting clingy. 

“Damn.”

He shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry.” Shrugging, she placed her bookmark in between the pages of her book and set it on the side table. “It’s not your fault.”

“How long has it been since you were back?” he asked after a moment.

“Long time. At least a year,” biting her lip, she wrapped her arms around herself. “I haven’t told any of my family that I’ll be back in the area,” guilt churned in her stomach at that. But much as she knew that she should visit her siblings and parents, the idea of being in a room with any of them was enough to make her want to tear at her hair and scream. She already knew how any visit she made to them would go: her mother would fuss about everything she thought Alice was doing wrong. Celia would sneer, and make some vile comment that Alice would pretend didn’t bother her even as her self esteem slowly crumbled. David would try his best to be pleasant, despite how clear it was that there was next to nothing for them to talk about. Her father’s eyes would look right through her, little more than a hello and a good-bye uttered between them. Tracey would cling to her arm, demanding to hear everything Alice had been up to while she was away, still desperately attempting to reignite the friendship she had destroyed when she decided to fuck and marry Alice’s father. 

“You don’t owe them shit,” Robert said comfortingly. 

“I know,” sighing, she tipped her head back against the couch. A part of her wished that she had the strength to cut them all off for good. No more phone calls, or presents sent in the mail. No emails. No contact whatsoever. “I wish that I could just let them all go.”

“It’s hard,” he acknowledged. Her lips pulled into a sad, grateful smile. If anyone understood what it was like to deal with difficult family members, it was Robert.

“Yeah.”

His fingers began to message into the spot on her ankle that sometimes ached for no reason at all.

“What time is our flight tomorrow?”

He gave her a kind smile. “Alice.”

“What?”

“It’s my plane. They leave when I get there.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I usually try to leave around nine o’clock.”

“Okay,” she checked the time. “Fuck. I should probably start packing,” she made no move to get up. Robert raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to…?”

“I’m building up the motivation to move,” she huffed, even as she sank deeper into the cushions.

“Well. While you do that,” he snagged the remote from the coffee table. “I’m gonna watch a movie.”

Head ever so slightly tilted, she watched as the light from the television reflected in his eyes. The soft curve of his nose and the lovely prettiness of his features. He was still partially dressed for work, wearing his dress pants and white button-down, suspenders hooked over each shoulder. But he’d shed his suit jacket and tie sometime after they’d arrived home. Alice bit her lip. It would be lying to say that the look wasn’t doing it for her. 

Feeling a sudden swell of boldness, she pulled her legs from his lap, scooting closer until their sides were pressed together. Drawing in a deep breath, she let her head settle against his chest, an arm wrapped loosely around his waist. Robert’s breath stuttered at her movements, and for a moment she was terrified that he might shove her away, until one of his arms looped around her shoulders, fingers stroking through her hair.

“I thought you were going to go get packed,” his chest buzzed beneath her ear from his voice, a quiet chuckle rumbling against her cheek.

“Shut up.”

He just laughed again, head falling to rest on top of hers as the movie started to play.

∗ ∗ ∗

Alice didn’t need to check to know that the hotel was incredibly, ridiculously expensive. In the past, she liked to think that she’d done well for herself. Mal and Dom had paid her a decent salary for her contributions to their research. But damn, sometimes she almost forgot just how unfathomably rich Robert and his family were.

The room was spacious and beautiful, with gold accenting on the ceiling, a heavy, wooden wardrobe in the corner, a plush couch near the windows that covered an entire wall. The bed had more pillows on it than she could count, and a canopy stretching out over it. Had she not already been half asleep from the full day of travel, she would have taken more time to more properly appreciate it. Instead she tossed her suitcase into a corner of the room and rubbed at her eyes. The bed looked so damn inviting that she was tempted to just face plant in the middle of it and pass out right then and there.

Wait.

It took her exhausted brain a rather long time to process that there was only one bed in the room. Eyes widening, she glanced at Robert, who smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. The hotel was already mostly booked out. They only had rooms with one bed available. I can take the couch.”

Raising her hand to cover a yawn, she shook her head. “We can share, if you want. I don’t mind.”

“You’re sure?” there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t place. Alice shrugged. “Okay.”

Nodding assuredly, she just barely managed to mumble out something resembling words about getting in the shower to Robert, who shot her a fond look. Watching him walk gracefully out onto the balcony to take a few phone calls, she allowed herself just a short moment to appreciate the lovely lean lines of his body wrapped in an expensive dark suit and white button-down.

Shaking her head, she made her way into the massive bathroom. The entire floor was made out of white marble, the biggest bathtub she’d ever seen in the corner. Making a mental note to try to fit some time in to use it during their stay, she instead stumbled in and out of the shower, already in a half asleep daze. Robert was busy talking to someone–probably Peter–on the phone out on the balcony, looking infuriatingly well put together for someone who had just gotten off of a ten hour flight. As she curled up in bed she could hear him fumbling about, too interested in wrapping herself in a cocoon with the comforter to pay him much mind. She was just barely beginning to doze when she felt the bed shift as he got in beside her, flicking off the light and pulling the blankets up around himself.   

The last time they had slept in the same bed together had been a long time ago, and she was suddenly struck with the memory of the two of them plastered together in her little twin bed, as they had always done from the first time they had a sleepover as children.

It had been a common occurrence, even more so after his mother died. Maurice had been such a fantastically horrible father that Robert would often go out of his way to spend as much time away from him as possible. And her parents never minded having him over. Hell, she knew for a fact that her mother had been betting on Alice and Robert getting together. With the added hope that Robert would knock Alice up and secure a slice of the Fischer fortune for them.

She let her eyes flutter open to look at him. Robert was laying on his side facing her, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. He looked younger that way, more peaceful. Shoulders more relaxed and brow less furrowed. It was like a massive weight had suddenly been lifted off of his shoulders. A sudden force of anger flooded up inside her, deep and roiling. Damn Maurice for making him feel like that entire fucking company rested on him, for putting that tension in his son’s shoulders, those bags of stress under his eyes. She should have taken him with her, she thought with no small amount of regret. Stolen him away. They could have lived freely, traveling the world as they worked with Dom, Mal, Arthur, and Eames. She bit her lip at the thought. Robert and Eames together would make quite the entertaining duo. 

She had forced herself not to think about how much she had missed him. She’d gotten so used to the ache of not having him with her, that she had almost forgotten that it was there. But now that she had him back, she couldn’t understand how she had lived all those years without him.  

All of a sudden, she couldn’t sleep. Too intensely aware of the feeling of the mattress under her back, the blanket shifting around her, the warmth of Robert curled up beside her. She flipped onto one side, and then back onto the other. 

After more tossing and turning she felt a stir beside her and suddenly Robert was plastered up against her back, his arm around her waist and pulling her close as he nestled himself up against her. His nose pressed into her temple with a sigh.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, hoping that he couldn’t feel how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. Robert just gave her a little squeeze and fitted his cheek more comfortably against the top of her head.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. Her stomach swooped at the nickname. And while her mind was still buzzing, Robert was comfy and warm. It amazed her, how easily they’d slipped right back into the way things had been before, like no time had passed at all.  

“‘Night, Robbie,” she breathed back, letting her eyes slip closed when he purred at the nickname. She knew that later she would look back at this memory with the same aching longing that she did with all of her other memories of him. But for now, with Robert holding her and the anticipation of the peace that sleep promised, she could allow herself to pretend that what she yearned for was real.

Just for a little bit.

∗ ∗ ∗

She woke up to soft sunlight bleeding through the curtains. The chirps of birds outside. Robert’s arm, heavy where it was still wrapped around her. His chest warm against her, breaths gently stirring her hair and tickling her neck. 

And something poking insistently against the small of her back.

Her eyes snapped open, breath catching in her throat as she tensed, cheeks turning the color of a tomato within the span of a few seconds. Fuck. Well…um. Shit.

She did not have even an inkling of an idea how to handle this situation. For a moment she considered elbowing him awake, but the idea of the embarrassment and awkwardness that could cause them both was a little more than she could handle. Attempting to wriggle free and out of bed would more than likely wake him up as well.

So instead she just laid there, silently curled up with Robert draped around her, trying to distract herself by focusing on the artwork mounted on the wall and not the morning wood currently pressed up against her. But her mind was of little help, only supplying her with abstract thoughts along the lines of: big, warm, thick, wonder what he would feel like in her palm or buried inside of her–

She was saved by Robert stirring in his sleep, swiftly closing her eyes and breathing regularly to simulate the appearance of still being asleep. He groaned softly with wakefulness, very slowly pulling away, and she secretly mourned the loss of him tucked up against her, erection included.

Once she heard the bathroom door close behind him, she opened her eyes and sat up. Rubbing at her face, a whimper escaped her lips when she closed her eyes, images flashing behind them of what they could possibly be doing, had she rolled over and woken him up by cupping his cock in her hand…

No, no, no, no. She could not start thinking about that. He was her friend. It was wrong.

But still that did nothing to alleviate the longing pangs in her chest.

∗ ∗ ∗

They were running down the hallway, hands clutched tight to each other, taking random turns, cutting through offices. Robert glanced anxiously over his shoulder.

“They’re getting closer,” he warned.

“I know,” Alice said, and he couldn’t help but warily eye the gun clutched in the hand not holding his. Behind him sounded a crash as the projections broke through another door.

Turning suddenly, Alice led him down a long hallway, then skidded to such a sudden stop that he almost crashed into her. Shouldering open the door to a closet, she dragged him inside with her, slamming the door shut, wedging a chair from the stack in the corner under the handle.

The closet was tiny. So much shit stacked in it that there was only a small space left for them to move around. Alice was squished firmly to his front, and in the darkness he could barely make out her holding a finger to her lips in a silent shush. He nodded, swallowing hard as the sound of the stampede of projections grew closer. Suddenly frightened, he wrapped his arms around her waist, burrowing his head into her neck and closing his eyes. He knew that death in a dream just meant he would wake up, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to experience getting torn limb from limb by a pack of feral projections hungry for blood. 

The sounds of them racing past the door was louder than thunder, feet rumbling against the floor. Robert was barely breathing, he was trying so hard to remain quiet. One of Alice’s hands fist in the back of his shirt, holding onto him tightly. 

Finally, finally the sounds of the projections ceased. Both relaxing slightly, Alice leaned back to squint up at him in the dark.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Running a hand through her hair, she shook her head, leaning her ear against the door. “We should stay here for a while. They might still be looking for us in the building,” she blew out her cheeks, brow knitting. “This is my fault. I’m sorry.”

“What even caused them to come after us like that?”

“I was changing too many things. Manipulating the world too much. The more you do that, the faster the projections attack.”

“Oh,” he was having a hard time focusing. They were too closely squeezed together. He could feel her breasts pressing against him, one of his hands having found purchase against the curve of her hip. She smelled like the vanilla and lavender soap she liked, the scent making his head spin with want. Squeezing his eyes shut did little alleviate it; if anything making him even more aware of how she felt flush against him.

Push her up against the wall, kiss her neck. Would she moan when he rolled his hips against her? When his hands dug into the flesh of her thighs, oh god–

A whine left his lips without permission, and Alice took the sound to be a sign of fear, sliding her fingers through his hair in an attempt to be soothing, but only further igniting the arousal in his gut. Robert was desperately trying to keep his hips as far away from her as possible, so that she wouldn’t feel the bulge growing in his pants as a result of their closeness.  

Throwing himself out into the hallway and at the mercy of the projections was seeming more and more appealing.

“We don’t have long until the clock runs out,” Alice mumbled.

“How long?” did his voice sound normal? He hoped that it sounded normal, and not like the garbled gibberish of arousal currently spinning through his mind. 

“Hm. Five minutes? Maybe a little less?”

Okay. Five minutes. He can handle that. 

Maybe.

Except Alice was moving against him, trying to get more comfortable, probably. But every little shift put in her greater danger of bumping against his erection, which was only fueled by the brushes of their skin against each other. 

God. If she knew what he was thinking about…she’d probably be disgusted by him. Or rightfully furious.

On her next movement, she came alarmingly close to bumping his hips with hers, and in frantic surprise he jumped away. She almost lost her balance, letting out a quiet yelp as she teetered on her feet before he caught her.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, clearly a bit stunned. But she stopped moving around so much.

God, she was so soft and warm nestled against him like this.

It was getting harder to hide his clear affection for her. And then she went and did things like cuddle up to his chest while watching movies on the couch or tease him until he turned red while at the office and it took everything in him not to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. Or fall to his knees, arms around her waist as he blurted out the words he’d wanted to tell her since they were children. To try to somehow find a way to accurately summarize the depths of his feelings for her.

But the idea of losing her again left him paralyzed. He wasn’t sure if he could survive her leaving a second time.

“Soon, now,” Alice said, and he wondered if she’d been counting the seconds in her head. Not trusting his voice, he nodded weakly. “Sorry that this session turned into a bit of a mess.” 

“It’s okay,” he croaked, eyes focusing straight ahead.

“Projections can be finicky.”

“Do they all turn violent like that?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “No. Not all of them.”

“Why not?”

“Projections can take the shape of people we know in everyday life. Usually they’ll have some semblance of their personalities in the real world, but because they’re made from our own subconscious, they’ll also carry the biases and interpretations that you have about them too,” a tiny, humorless laugh left her lips. “Which is probably why my projection of Celia is a major fucking bitch. But it also means that those projections can only be as violent as your mind can actually conceivably imagine them to be.”

“Okay…”

“My projection of you was never violent.”

“You had a projection of me?”

She looked down, like she so often did when embarrassed. “Yeah. He was sweet. Never hurt a fly. I think it’s because I could never see you being like that,” she jerked her head in the direction of the door, where the projections still roamed, ready to tear any perceived intruders to pieces. 

“I’m…flattered? I think?”

She huffed out a tiny laugh, head falling forward to rest against his shoulder. “Robert?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

For a moment, he felt his face twitch with unspoken emotion, grateful that it was so dark that she probably couldn’t see it. “Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Why?”

“You’ve just been quiet the past couple of days is all.”

“Work wears me out,” it wasn’t a total lie, even though that wasn’t what had been weighing on his mind recently.

“Do you…ever think about leaving?”

“Sometimes,” he sighed. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated, struck with the realization that he didn’t have a concrete answer for her.

“I-I don’t know. I guess, I can’t just leave Dad like that. Or, or, all the people who depend on me. It’s–I don’t–” he huffed in quiet frustration.

“It’s all you’ve ever known,” Alice said wisely. He relaxed somewhat, grateful that she seemed to understand without him having to explain.

“Yeah.”

For a brief moment, he felt that maybe, just maybe he should tell her. Get it all out. Put the ball in her court. All it would take was three little words and it would be done. Robert wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of courage had even come from.

“Alice–”

He woke with a jerk, scrambling against the material of the comforter beneath him, almost upsetting the PASIV laid out between his and Alice’s bodies. Sitting up, he moved to get off the bed before realizing that he was still attached to the IV in his arm, gingerly pulling it out before getting off the bed. Staggering to the windows, he pulled back the curtains, squinting into the sunlight that greeted him.

“Robert?” Alice’s voice sounded from where she was still on the bed, but it sounded muffled, almost like he was under water. He pinched at the bridge of his nose. His mind was still spinning, attempting to reconcile the sudden change in scenery surrounding him. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, dropping his hand to let it rest against the windowsill. When he finally looked over his shoulder, Alice was sitting on the end of the bed, eyes huge with worry. “I’m alright.”

“Disoriented?” her gaze softened at his nod. “It gets easier, with time. And practice.” 

Raking a hand through his hair, he ran his fingers anxiously over his watch, allowing the feeling of the familiar, intricate details to soothe him.

“The good news is that I think it’s working. It’s slow. And tedious, but I think your subconscious is learning.”

“Yeah. Good,” glancing back out the window, something occurred to him that he hadn’t really considered before. “Does that mean that there will be a point in time when we can’t share dreams anymore?”

Alice hesitated, head tilting as she considered. “I don’t know if it’s possible to customize the projection’s reactions to specific people, but,” when she was thinking hard, sometimes she rubbed her lips together, like she was doing now. “It shouldn’t be a problem so long as you’re the dreamer and I’m the subject. Dreamers don’t usually populate the area with their projections. I’ll have to teach you the layouts, for the dreams. But that isn’t usually too hard. Or if you were a sleeper and not the subject. Sleepers can bring in projections, but it’s very rare and usually they can only summon one or two at a time.”

“Okay. Good.”

She continued to examine him. “Are you starting to feel better?”

He nodded. Relief passed across her face. She was always so sweet. So worried about him.

It was hard not to feel like he didn’t deserve her. 

“I think…I’m going to go take a shower,” he said. Alice nodded, beginning to clean up and put away the PASIV.

“Okay.”

He stumbled into the bathroom, closing the door and resting his palms flat against the counter, head bowed. Looking up, he was met with the startling image of a gaunt, exhausted man. Dark circles bloomed beneath his eyes, lips pressed in a miserable looking frown. For a reason unknown to him, tears began to swell in his eyes until they toppled down his cheeks. His eyes, a twin to his mother’s, looked back at him sorrowfully.

Everything was such a fucking tangled mess. His father, Uncle Peter, the company. Often he barely felt like he was keeping his head above water, the insurmountable pressures and expectations of everyone around him leaving him nearly paralyzed with uncertainty and fear. Nothing he could do these days seemed right. No matter what decisions he made. His father would always find something to yell at him for, while Uncle Peter looked at him with a disappointed, helpless expression.

And not once did he ever get to consider what it actually was that he wanted. It was always about the good of the company. Or what would make his father the least furious.

Alice was the only anchor point he had left. The thing he was most sure of in the world. Robert was positive that there were days when she was the only thing keeping him from being swept out into the sea of his own hopelessness.

Christ, he’d almost told her. 

That would have been disastrous. As if she could ever feel the same way. He knew how telling her would go. It would be awkward. And painful. Perhaps the most painful thing to happen to him since his mother’s death. Just the idea of Alice’s rejection of him was enough to have a fresh batch of tears rolling down his cheeks, body shuddering in violent terror. It would destroy them. She would leave. Again. And he would be left alone to be torn apart by Fischer Morrow until there was nothing left of him.

Pulling away shakily from the counter, he turned to the shower, twisting the nozzle and feeling the water with his fingers until he determined it warm enough. It took a few tries to undo the buttons of his shirt, his hands still trembling slightly. Tossing his clothes into a far corner of the bathroom, he stepped into the scalding stream, allowing the water to wash away the remnants of tears on his face.  

Memories of being pressed together in the closet flashed behind his eyelids whenever he closed them. Shaking his head, he rested his hands against the slick tile of the shower wall and tried to think about anything else. Memos. Meetings. The warmth of the water against his back. Alice. Alice, Alice, Alice.

His mind, ever the traitor, began to feed him more…creative images on how things could have gone down in the closet. Images that involved Alice’s legs wrapped around his waist, her fingers in his hair, pulling, guiding him to kiss her while he thrusted. Her back rocked rhythmically against the door. She was tiny enough that he could pick her up, easy.  

With a surrendering whine, he finally let his hand fall to wrap around his cock, throbbing wantonly between his legs. Closing his eyes, Robert let his head fall forward, one hand still flat against the shower wall while the other began to stroke himself, every once in a while stopping to caress his balls.

In his mind he kissed her. Slow and soft first, then with a bit more urgency, backing her up against the door. Hands cradling her face, then running down her sides. Maybe he would take a moment to squeeze her clothed breasts, or slip his hand inside her shirt and bra to stroke his fingers along a hardened nipple. Pinch it lightly until she moaned into his mouth. Then his hands would be on her hips, lifting her up, up, until she was settled perfectly against him. They would fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces. He knew that they would.

Running his mouth along her neck, kissing every spot there until he found which one made her gasp and buck her hips unconsciously against his. Perhaps he’d find a ticklish spot; get her to throw her head back and giggle while he teased her. 

Their pants would come off quick, and he’d get on his knees for her, thighs thrown over his shoulders, and eat her out until she screamed and pulled on his hair. Just the thought of it was enough for Robert to feel a tightening in his balls, a quiet moan rumbling from his lips as he picked up the pace of his pumps, cock twitching in his hand.

When he finally slid inside of her, the sound she’d make would be the best thing he’d ever heard. Holding her as close as possible, he’d start thrusting into her nice and slow. Careful. So he wouldn’t hurt her. He imagined the way she would say his name. Maybe she would call him Robbie.

Mouth falling open, he felt the flutter in his balls that indicated his orgasm was close.

She would be wet and tight, and far, far better than his hand. The way she would attempt to draw him in even closer, legs cinching tight around his waist while her hands held onto his shoulders. He’d bring a hand down, to between her legs, find the right angle and rhythm to rub her clit that would make her walls flutter around his cock. She would come first, he would make sure of it. Holding onto him tightly, moaning his name, trying to pull him even closer. As close as it was physically possible for them to be. And he would finally be able to whisper in her ear.

I love you.

I have loved you since we were children. 

Robert barely managed to bite down on a moan as his cock twitched in his hand, balls tightening as he began to come in hard spurts. His body seemed to practically curl in on itself with his orgasm, shoulders shaking and breaths ragged. It was a good thing he’d braced his hand against the wall, or else he very likely would have toppled over with the force of it. His balls tightened again with another burst of thick seed before he finally slumped forward, spent. Watching numbly as the remainders of his release slowly circled down the shower drain.

Mind finally beginning to clear from arousal, he let out a quiet whimper of shame. What a terrible friend he was. To fantasize about her when she would never reciprocate.

Gulping down his heartbreak at the thought, he straightened, reaching dazedly for the soap. 

He needed to get his head on straight, he decided resolutely. Needed to get this ridiculous pining and longing under control before it consumed him. Otherwise, someday, he was going to slip up. She was going to find out. And then she’d be gone for good.

It was the only way he would be able to keep her in his life. 

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