#his key goes down the drain. his saw breaks. he really was never going to get out of there... he never had a chance...

[asmidge]

something about Adam being doomed by the narrative,, something about how it's HIS saw that breaks not Lawrence's when they try to cut through their chains

[starlightandfairies]

Hey you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable but can you do one where you leave Alexandria randomly saying you’re going on a small run but Daryl feels like something is off and goes after you only to find you trying to k!ll yourself and he gets upset and begs you to tell him why

Description: The reader says they are going on a run and Daryl follows only to see what you are really doing.

Warnings: suicide attempt, depression, death, twd violence, swearing

Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, and check my character list and requesting rules.

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 874

Daryl had been watching you intently, something didn't seem right, though he only thought it was because of everything that had happened before joining Alexandria. However, there was something in his mind that was eating at him the more he saw you and the way you acted, the more worried he got for your health and safety.

Daryl was currently working on his bike, fiddling with it again, trying to see what he could do to fix it and pass the time. He watched as you walked over, your small hunting bag on your back with your gun in hand with your knives at your waist. 

"I'm going on a run, might take a day, I've told the others. Just wanted to tell you." Daryl nodded, watching your form for a moment and handed you a couple of energy bars. 

"Found 'em on my last run, you take 'em." 

"Thanks." You simply stated, Daryl, nodded and watched as you walked off. He quickly gathered his things and started following after you. He stayed a good distance behind you, making sure he walked so you couldn't hear his steps under the leaves and sticks. You walked for hours without stopping, with no walkers popping up and watched as you made your way to the river that was a while away from the community. 

Along the way, you started to drop your items, leaving them as if you wouldn't need them anymore. Daryl watched as you sat near the river, where a couple of flowers were and you grabbed out a book. Daryl watched as you read, he sat behind a tree, his eyes never falling from your frame and just waiting to see what else you had to do. 

Daryl watched as you wrapped the book in a piece of cloth, dug a hole, placed it and covered the book up. Daryl slowly stood up, not liking the feeling he was feeling in his stomach. Daryl watched as you placed your knives to the side and grabbed your gun. The colour drained from his face as you placed it at the side of your temple, he listened to your sobs and the yell you made to seem to push yourself to take the actions you were in the process of doing. He ran over as he heard the shot of the bullet, he ran over and sighed lightly as he saw that you weren't injured or had a bullet in your head. 

"Daryl?" Your voice was barely audible, Daryl yanked the gun out of your hand and stared at you. You fought against his arms, and you ripped yourself out of Daryl's hold, staring at him horrified that he had seen what you just tried to do. Daryl's look was hard to read, you didn't know if he was mad, angry, disgusted, disappointed or sad in you. 

"What the hell was that?" He questioned, his words coming out harsher than intended, his look fell once he saw you break down but try and hold yourself together. 

"I just wanted to read this book, finish it so I had something to say that I've accomplished. I did it. I read a classic, I did it. I've done something with my life, I can finally say I've done something with my life." Daryl took a breath, stepping back as you stepped closer. 

"That's not what I'm talking about." 

"Give me my gun." You ordered. 

"No, I'm not giving you the gun, tell me what just went down." Daryl grabbed your arm gently as you went to walk away, pulling you back to face him. 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"No, I'm begging you! Why would you do that? Why would you try and end your life?" 

"Have you fucking seen the world we live in, Daryl? People have no remorse anymore, I can't handle taking lives anymore, even if those fuckers deserve it. I can't live knowing I might die again and again. I don't see any reason to live anymore." 

"You don't have to end your life, we could go somewhere else so we don't have to deal with these people anymore. Get away, far away." 

"I don't want to be here anymore! I'm sick of this fucking world, Daryl... too many people have died. I've watched everyone I care about die brutally. You're the only one I have left and sometimes you're not even around. So, I feel more alone than before. I just want it all to end, I don't want to become one of those things." 

"We'll leave, we'll go somewhere else, just you and I. Where we won't be hunted and we won't have to face bad people anymore. Just come back with me, we'll go now, please. Do this for me. I'm going to take your stuff, you can have this knife and that's it. Let's head back so we can back." 

You nodded slowly, Daryl making sure he could see you as you gathered the things that you dropped on the way. 

[agentperezbian]

Can you explain the saw ending please? Thank you

I thought you'd never ask, anon.

So throughout the movie we see Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight chained up in the bathroom, and it cuts to the perspectives of two other characters - Detective Tapp, and Lawrence's wife Allison, who is tied up with their daughter, Diana, and being threatened by an unseen man with a gun. We are lead to believe, up to this point, that the man with the gun IS the Jigsaw killer. He's actually Zepp, the orderly that we saw in a flashback earlier in the film.

One of the twists of the movie is that Zepp was actually playing his own game, having been told that there is a slow-acting poison in his veins that will kill him if he doesn't do exactly what Jigsaw says, which includes holding Allison and Diana Gordon hostage until Lawrence and Adam are done with their game, and killing them if Lawrence fails.

Lawrence goes past the allotted time of six hours, technically failing his game, so Zepp tries to kill Allison and Diana, but Tapp shows up and the Gordons manage to escape. Meanwhile, Lawrence goes through with cutting his foot off to escape his chain, believing his wife and child to be potentially dead. He reaches the gun and shoots Adam, fulfilling his task, but late.

Adam isn't dead and was only wounded (in the shoulder) so when Zepp shows up to kill Lawrence for breaking The Rules and going past his time limit, Adam beats the shit out of him with a toilet lid, leading to Lawrence and Adam's ✨️love scene✨️ where they embrace and Lawrence tells Adam he will come back with help for him, before crawling away.

This is where the twist comes into play. Adam, believing he has killed the Jigsaw killer, searches Zepp's pockets to find some way to free himself from his chain. Instead, he finds the tape that reveals Zepp was merely another player - a pawn. The "dead guy" in the middle of the room then stands up - he's the real Jigsaw killer, John Kramer. The patient that Lawrence had been telling his students about in the flashback of the hospital previously. He's a cancer patient who, upon realizing he only has months to live, tests other people who he deems to be wasting their gift of life through deadly games, often requiring people to mutilate themselves or endure extreme pain to survive.

Adam watches in horror as John tells him he has failed and locks him in the bathroom, shutting off the lights and leaving him in the dark to die. It was never really clear what Adam needed to do to survive, but it's implied that his chance depended on the key that was in the bathtub with him, which went down the drain before he woke up.

[rommahh]

{Harry in sparkly black….Harry lemme **** *** *** for free}

You hadn’t talked to Harry all day. Not that you were mad at him or anything but your therapy this morning left you feeling a little spacey. There was something about talking about your emotions that left you feeling emotionally drained.

You missed Harry terribly and though it’s only been a short week, you felt very lonely. But on another note, your anxiety wasn’t as bad as it was. You were starting to feel like your normal self again but missing something.

You loved the tight knit life you have with Harry. You like being around him most hours of the day. You two were inseparable. If you were in the shower, he was in the bathroom reading a book from the lounger chair in the corner. If he was writing music on the beach, you were somewhere on the shore collecting shells. If you were going to the grocery store the least he could do was go for the drive with you. You two were close and it was something the both of you were ok with.

Some couples don’t like being so close but it worked for you and Harry. Being away from Harry was a weird experience. It’s only been a week but you feel like it’s been a lifetime. You haven’t minded being on your own but you wanted to be with the person you felt most connected to.

So being you, you purchased a ticket to Chicago. You didn’t know how Harry was going to react but you could only assume it would be a positive reaction. You told Jeff that you were coming so he could get you a hotel key and backstage pass.

As you sat in the airport you felt your back pocket buzz- your music pausing for the call. Your hand slipped into the pocket roughly pulling out the small phone. Harry’s icon, him in a fluffy robe looking as grumpy as ever, met your eyes. You cursed because you were quite obviously in the airport and if he saw you, the surprise would be ruined.

You answered anyways but only for audio. You made sure that your airpods were snug in you ear and there was no chance of them falling out.

“My lover!” Harry greets you a in sing song voice. You could hear his humph as he recognizes that you didn’t answer with the FaceTime video on. “Turn your camera on.”

“Can’t, I’m not feeling good.” You fib nervously. Harry frowned, nervous that he may have done something to upset you.

“Oh, alright. What’s wrong then?” He asks. You chew your lip trying to think of an answer.

“Uh, period.” You stammer.

“Your period doesn’t start for another few day…saw it on the tracker.” Harry may have your period tracker on his phone but it was because he wanted to make sure he was able to comfort you the best way he could when he needed to.

“Must be the meds-“ The sound of your boarding attendant sounded over your head cutting you off. “Hey bubs, I’ve actually got to go but we can’t chat later.”

“Sure, that’s fine I guess. Love you.” He mumbles, confused by the phone call. You hang up leaving Harry a little lost in his thoughts.

Later, Harry sang through his rehearsal carelessly, his head clouded with thoughts. He even sang through TBSL and though he was in the worst of moods, fans waiting at the venue thought he never sounded better.

You on the other hand had just sat through the worst flight of your life. There was a woman in the flight who didn’t want to wear her mask causing commotion before the flight could even take off. You had the worst headache halfway through the flight and because of the lack on supplies, the flight couldn’t give you any ginger ale or accommodations.

You didn’t let any of it get to you though as you directed for the chauffeur Jeff sent for you to go to the venue for show.

Harry sat in the common room backstage with the band and Jeff eating dinner grumpily. His fork was stabbing every little piece of lettuce of his salad, everyone watched worried that he may break his bowl.

“HS3 is trending on Twitter today, pretty exciting.” Jeff says to Harry breaking the silence. Jeff just received a text from you saying that you arrived to the venue and were walking towards Harry’s dressing room.

“Mmm great.” Harry grumbles. Jeff rolled his eyes at the diva.

“Someone’s a little pissy this evening. How about you go fix that mood before you greet your fans with a bad attitude.” Jeff scolds him like a child who just got caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Jeff really didn’t care about Harry’s attitude, used to the moods at this point, but he needed a way for Harry to leave the room and see you in the dressing room.

“Fine, didn’t want to be around anyways.” Harry shrugs.

Back in Harry’s dressing room, you rolled your suitcase into a corner where Harry’s outfit for the night resided on a hanger. You smiled at the sparkly black top that you helped pick out. You walked around his dressing room from the hair and makeup table, past the bathroom/ dressing area, and back around to the couch’s and coffee table where you took a seat. You snagged one of his green juices needing the boost of energy from being on the flight.

You heard the door knob jiggle but stayed planted in you seat sipping on the juice. You never made a peep as Harry barged through the room, scowl covering his face. He stormed past the couch not batting an eye at you. He went to the mini fridge where his juices were before letting an exasperated sigh.

“Who fucking took my juice?” He whines. You quietly giggle in your hand at his tone.

“Im sorry, thought I could have it.” You chuckle. Harry leaps from where he stands letting out a yell. He turns to look at you with wide eyes, hand over his chest as if his heart was going to explode from his chest. You stood from the couch waiting for him to react more but he just stood there in shock. When the realization of you actually being there kicked in he let out another yell before bounding over to you.

Before you knew it, you had two strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Your wrapped around his neck, hands and fingers spread through his hair. His face tucked into your lower neck peppering desperate kisses all over just to feel something.

“What are you doing here?” You hear him cry. You pulled away from him to wipe his eyes of the tears that streamed down his face.

“I needed to see you.” Was all you could muster. He pulled you down on the couch, your body cushioning his larger frame. He laid in between your legs, your back flat in the body of the couch.

“Im so happy your here.” Harry couldn’t even put his excitement into words. He knew you were coming in a week but to have you here earlier than that made him feel things. He sat up from suffocating you into the couch, allowing for you to sit up beside him. “What about your therapy? I hope you’re not jeopardizing your mental health to be here with me cause I would much prefer if you put me on the back burner and took care of yourself.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m ok. I still will see my therapist virtually, I’ve got all new meds that are working fine, and if all goes to shit I will go back home. It’s ok bubs.” You reassure him.

He grabs your face with both hands pulling your face to his. Your lips meet with need. His lips slotting with yours, moving slowly but with rigor as if he was scared you would slip from his fingers. Your bottom lips fit between his lips leaving for him to suck on it slightly. You moaned at the feeling making Harry pull you in tighter. You sat slightly upon his lap, chest against each other tightly. Your tongues pushed at one another, lips loving in tangent.

You pulled away when you felt his lower presence awaken. He whined at the loss of contact making you giggle.

“If we go any further you’re gonna be late for your show. I’ll give you more back at the hotel, yeah?” You say lowly trying to catch your breathe. He groaned resting his forehead on yours chasing your lips with chaste kisses making you smile.

“Fine, you owe my though. This is level three apology situation that can only be resolved with these things; sloppy blowies, butt stuff, or face masks if you catch my drift.” He chastised. You let out a deep belly laugh pushing yourself away from him. You two still sit facing each other, your legs slightly on top of his.

“You’re so nasty, but I may be able to arrange one of those.” You wink making Harry let out a triumphant laugh.

“Are you staying for the show? I understand if your not.” He questions fiddling with your fingers.

“Think it would be best if I didn’t. I’m really tired and I obviously need a nap if I’m going to be up for your post show antics.” You joke giving his nose a poke. He jokingly pretends to bite your finger in retaliation.

Harry went on stage that night happier than ever. He started plotting proposals from the second he walked you to the car with your suitcase and waved goodbye to you. You went to the hotel room and “accidentally” fell asleep wearing one of your most recent purchases curled up in your tour bus blanket.

Let’s just say that Harry not so accidentally woke you up after that concert ready to love all of his adrenaline off in you.

Part 2👀

[iwadori]

Getting hurt in argument PT 1 (Iwaizumi, Tsukishima)

hi!! so can i request a hurt to comfort with iwaizumi, tsukishima and any character that you want ? i saw you had reblogged a prompt list so you could us 18 for inspiration! @sheiscalling

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 2.1K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Tsukishima:

You and Tsukishima just moved in with each other a few days ago

Sharing a house has kind of put you at odds

As getting used to each others habits takes a while to get used too

You just hope that after a while things will go back to usual

Tsukishima has been conveniently busy since you guys moved in together, claiming he has to practice more since the Sendai Frogs have a supposed upcoming tournament. 

So he’s left you to your own devices unpacking boxes, picking out and buying furniture whilst working from home. Today’s task is choosing the wallpaper, which you wanted to ask Tsukishima’s opinion on (since he’s always been judgmental of certain colours, patterns and prints.)

Y/N: Hey Tsukki! You coming to *insert store that sells wallpapers here* today… it closes at 5pm??

Kei: Yhh practices finishes at 1 so I’ll probably run some errands get changed and meet you there for 3

Y/N: Okay! See you then <3

You were ecstatic, Tsukishima is finally going to do something for your new place and on the plus you get to spend time together. Maybe you’ll get to go to that new desert place across the road from your house.

2:45PM

You decide to get there a tad bit early so you can have a few options picked out (as you know how detailed and picky Kei can be.) As you picked out paints and swatches you noticed how time went by…

3:14PM

Surprised that Kei isn’t here right on the dot (since he despises lateness and on many occasion have reprimanded you when you’ve been just a tiny bit late) but just assume he’s stuck in traffic or something.

3:32

You’re still standing outside waiting, getting a tiny bit embarrassed of the looks of the passer-by strangers as if they could tell you’re desperately waiting for someone. You checked your phone, expecting a message from Kei explaining his lateness or saying he’lll be there soon.

4:00

He’s now an hour late, with no contact at all which got you frustrated as you really hoped that he would do at least one thing for you today. So you decided to go and choose what YOU want since it seems that Kei doesn’t seem to really care.

5:15

After nearly emptying the store with all your choices and additional furniture picks you finally make it back home with still NO word from Kei. You are completely over it! But he is now the least of your worries, now your current agenda is unpacking plates and cutlery (so you and Tsuki actually have something to eat of off and that’s if he ever joins you for dinner)

You’re washing and polish plates as you hear your front door open and shut with a slight slam. “Ugh practice was draining today” he said, tired 

You did not acknowledge his presence at all, you were beyond agitated that he made plans with you and then didn’t show up AND THEN didn’t even make sure the first thing he did was apologise. “Babe, whats for dinner” He asked entering the living room.

AN: Btw you have like a open kitchen type of thing so you can see the kitchen and the living room in the same room if that makes sense ://

You still ignored him, washing your plates annoyance slowly but surely building up inside of you the more he spoke “Y/N, did you hear me i asked what was fo-” Tsukishima stopped his words as he saw all the stuff you’ve bought for the house and before realising that he blew off your plans together he says,

“Y/N.. what the fuck is this shit”

That made you take a pause, and freeze ‘That is all he’s worried about’ you think. As you’re still ignoring him and he’s wondering why you decided to buy all this ‘crap’ (in his words not yours) he picks up one of the wallpaper designs and brings it to you.

“Y/N you really think we’re putting this shit on the walls..?” He asked 

You still ignore him, scrubbing harder and harder on the same plate you’ve been washing since he’s got here ( you definitely know it’s clean by now but who cares )”Y/N, are you listening to me” He then grabs your shoulders turning him to face you “Why the fuck would you buy this??” 

By now you were raged, “Is that ALL you care about!” You shout “You don’t care how I’ve been slaving away getting this place, our NEW place ready for us to live in but you don’t care you’re so self obsessed that all you’ve been doing is going to practice and complaining!”

He was about to speak before you stopped him again “Oh and by the way if you’ve got a problem with my choices for our walls then maybe YOU should’ve been at the store at the time we agreed upon! You dick.” after saying this his lips part in surprise, as he now remembers the promise he made you. 

You turn your body back to the sink, tears filling your eyes as you go back to ferociously scrubbing the plate again. 

“Y/N I’m sorry I-” He starts

“Oh shut the fuck up Tsukishima” You say a bit to agressively slamming your hands (and the plate) down on the counter, cutting your hand in the process 

“Shit” You say as blood starts to seep through your hand well there goes the clean plate you get a towel and hold it against your hand stopping the blood for a short while and you bend down to start picking up the plate remains as Tsukishima just stands there not really knowing what to say or do.

“Y/N i’m sorry about EVERYTHING” he says bending down to your level as you still pick up the plate remains. “What can I do to make this all better?”

“Just fuck off Tsuki” You say bitterly not looking him in the eyes

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay” he says grabbing your wrist softly to stop you from further injury “Just come sit down so i can atleast bandage your hands”

You finally look up at him, tears still in your eyes but you silently agree getting up and letting him lead you to the couch. He bandages you up, not saying a word as your sniffles and whimpers fill the quiteness in the room.

“Y/N. I am really truly sorry I-” He says

“Why don’t you care anymore?” You interrupt tears now streaming down your face “I know i can be overbearing at times, but I just wanted you to be excited about moving in with me as I was about you. Do you not want to live with me anymore” you cried

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy it’s just practice and tournaments and … I was kind of nervous about moving in with you I just love you so much and I don’t want to mess anything up” he said “And I’m sorry about not coming to the store I just got tired up with practice and I’m just really sorry Y/N”

He goes over to the things you’ve bought and picks up one of the paint colours you chose (your favourite option) “This is beatiful Y/N you have such a great taste and I like anything that you like to be honest.”

He stares at you for a response as he noticed your tears have stopped running, which is a good sign. “I just want you to be more involved and show that you care about me about us “ you say

“I will and I do.. I always do” He said pulling you into a hug 

“I love you Kei” You say into his chest 

“I love you too” 

You spend the rest of your night unpacking plates, putting up wallpaper, painting walls and putting up furniture ending up on the couch with two slices of strawberry shortcake from the bakery across the street watching an episode of *insert your favourite TV show here* in your new place which you can finally call a home.

Iwaizumi:

You and Iwaizumi have been dating since highschool

You’ve had a past with anger issues but that was all sorted before you met Iwa

You’re very hard working and sometimes overworking but you have Iwa to always make sure you’re not too hard on yourself

You play volleyball just like your boyfriend, being the captain of your team is your pride and joy but sometimes you are way too hard on yourself trying to reach perfection. 

You’re in the gym way past normal hours setting to yourself against the wall with sweat dripping down your forehead breathing slightly more than usual

‘5 more minutes’ you think to yourself knowing damn well it’s going to be more than 5 minutes but you just have to perfect your form then you can stop.

You stop for a small water break and also to check your phone seeing 5+ messages from your lovely boyfriend Hajime

Haji: Y/N how was your day 

Haji: What do you want for dinner

Haji: I think we should get chinese

Haji: Y/N… you alive

Haji: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeffhpeE/

Haji: I just ran into *Insert Best friends name* and she told me you were last seen at practice I hope you’re not in the gym Y/N

Haji: I’m coming to the gym… you better not be there

By the time you start going back to set against the wall you look up to see a semi mad Hajime at the doors of the gym..

“Y/N.. I thought you said you wasn’t going to keep overworking yourself this term” He said slowly approaching you 

“Just” set “Gotta” set “Fix” set “My” set “Form” 

“Your set is fine babe, it’s perfect … you’re perfect” he says reaching out to touch you

“Well I guess perfect isn’t good enough then” you mumble

“Y/N that’s not what I meant” He responds touching your shoulder

Out of reflex, your hand flicks to his face your nail (which are amazingly sharp and long) catches him on his cheek causing a petite cut to now appear and small amounts of blood to come out of it. You both are frozen shocked at what just happened, you never meant to touch him like that at all. 

You quickly rush to your stuff leaving your volleyball in the gym running out the doors. How could you be so horrible, hitting your boyfriend in the face after doing so much work getting over all your anger issues. ‘Hes going to hate you now’ you think.

You stop at a bench trying to clear your head, crying softly to yourself worrying now about your relationship with Haji and where it stands now. Without you noticing, Iwaizumi sits down next to you, waiting for you to compose your self before speaking.

“I know you didn’t mean it Y/N” he said pulling you under his arm 

“Iwa, I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to stay late in the gym it’s just that we have a competition next week and last time we lost because of me and I just … wanted it all to be perfect “ You said sniffling you look up at him and see the cut on his face that you caused making you even more upset “I am really sorry, I understand that you probably want to break up with me for hurting you which is completely valid”

You don’t want him to confirm your suspicions of him breaking up with you, so you abruptly stand up getting reading to move onwards again before he grabs your wrist “you’re not leaving till I know you’re okay” he says

which makes you laugh a bit “It’s crazy that I’m the one that messed up, yet you’re worrying about me”

“Well that’s my job Y/N, I always worry about you when you’re overworking yourself and being hard on yourself it’s not good” he said “accidents happen, I know you didn’t intend on me getting hurt and I know you’re going to do great in the upcoming game babe dont worry”

A week later, all was forgotten Iwa’s cheek healed quickly and he never blamed you for it all and reminded you that it wasn’t your fault whenever it seemed you felt bad about it.

You’re now playing your volleyball game Iwa in the stands cheering you on as loud as he could and of course you were doing your best because in Hajime’s words you are perfect.

AN:Thank you so much for my first request I hope you like it. I’m not really a fan of the Iwa one but the tsuki one i like the way it went even though I was meant to add a third character but got too tired. But thank for the request keep them coming!! 

[whaleofatjme1920]

Ok so Ik this has already been done with ej, but I’m a toby simp, and I wanted to ask. Reader finding out toby is cheating on them? Maximum of 1k words, a scenario idk, smth. Ty!

-👾

It's Dangerous, To Love the Sun

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: angst in general, physical and emotional cheating, violence, language]

[AN: I listened to Brooksie - Not Into You slowed + reverbed while writing this, I hope you enjoyed! Also went a lil over,,, the word count because I kinda liked this,,,,,,,,,,,]

You love Toby. Ever since he came into your life, you’ve been happier with him at your side. He makes you smile, he makes your heart sing. You’ve never felt so complete.

The way he looks at you is akin to gazing at a masterpiece. His eyes are so full of love when he gazes at you from across the room, wondering when you’ll finally break away from your conversation with Jeff to be at his side again.

His touch is gentle, never harsh. Toby’s fingers trace up and down your forearms and back, ghosts, whisper-like kisses of physical affection in an attempt to show you what he verbally cannot express. He’s always so warm, so loving, so whole.

He completes you, is what you’re trying to get at.

The two of you like to sit on rooftops late at night because neither Masky nor Hoodie can stand the two of you giggling at odd hours of the day in their presence. Kate’s not around long enough to actually care. When it’s just the two of you sitting up here, quiet, against each other and breathing in the sweet night air, you feel more complete than you’ve ever felt before.

You hum out, watching the stars twinkle in the sky, a dreamy expression on your face as Toby momentarily stops playing with your hair.

“What’s o-o-on your mind, b-baby?” He asks, a brow raised. Toby shifts on the shingles, his arms wrapping around you like an octopus, bringing you closer and closer into his warmth.

You find yourself blanketed in him and relax. “You’re so good to me, y’know that?” You say.

Toby scoffs and rolls his eyes. “O-Other way around,” he corrects.

You tilt your head and shake it slightly, telling him he’s wrong. “You’ve always been so good to me,” you continue, brushing off his attempts to play down your saccharine words.

He knows you’re not fibbing, but at the same time, he refuses to admit to your claims. “I d-d-did what w-was expected o-of me, you know t-that,” he states plainly.

You take in another deep breath before resting your head on his shoulder, melting into him. You pick up his scent: oak and burning winter, before retorting against him again in a voice a hair above a whisper. “You’re wrong.”

Toby laughs, his lips pressing to the side of your head. “If y-y-you say so,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your head and eventually your face. He revels in the sound of your laughter as he does so, leaving no inch of you unkissed.

“I know so.”

The two of you fall back into a pleasant silence.

You’ve always viewed Toby like he has power over the sun, because, as far as being a proxy goes? He does. When you were first plucked from your life and called for something ‘greater’, it was Toby who had taken pity on you, trained you, taught you all you needed to know and the ins and outs of this life. He was the one who shielded you from Masky, Hoodie and even Kate at times.

It was by his hand that you survived, and it is still by his hand that you thrive.

It was such a blinding adoration for a man you believed held dominion over the sun that kept you veiled from the truth of what he had been doing behind closed doors, yet could be seen through the windows.

Naturally, you didn’t want to believe it. Who would? The person you love’s heart has fled the place it used to live with you and taken up residence with someone else. That’s not an easy thing to admit, not when you realize that love truly is not all it takes.

Toby doesn’t want to admit it either. It started out as some strange infatuation, a fleeting crush - someone he would forget.

But her eyes? Her darling eyes? One of them the most beautiful shade of peridot he’d ever seen and the other a literal clock? They say the eyes (in her case, eye) are the window to the soul, and she had absolutely snared his. She was beautiful in a way Toby couldn’t describe, beautiful in a way that had him seeing a sky full of stars in the middle of the day, and beautiful in the sense she was timeless.

Toby knows he should be ashamed, that she’s his little secret, that what he has with Natalie can’t be compared with you, but he knows he can’t let you find out lest you go too far you can’t come back.

That blinding sun made you shrug off the bruises that were too keenly placed to be a victim’s sorry attempt at freeing themself. You shrugged off the scent of roses and wine. You shrugged off how his eyes saw past you, no longer at you. You shrugged it all off, choosing to stay blinded than face the truth.

And you would’ve happily lived in that ignorance if Toby didn’t grow cocky and arrogant and so fucking careless.

You’ve never really felt your world crash and burn until today. You've never been burned by the sun until this moment.

You’re looking into the eyes of a man you think owns the sun and see nothing but fear, regret, and pleading. Pleading for what? That you won’t leave him? That you’ll stay with him? You feel tears well in your eyes as you see him laying in your bed with her. The woman who had been naught but a shadow until now.

“R-Reader,” Toby begins, quickly wrestling up in the sheets, watching as your soul leaves your body in the doorway. “B-Baby, it’s n-no-”

You’re at a loss for words, and frankly, you don’t think he even deserves the right to your thoughts at this moment. Instead, you hold your hand up, silencing him, and turn to leave the temp house. You were out doing work for your fucking boss and get rewarded like this? The man you loved in bed with another woman, looking at her like she owned the moon. You take in a sharp breath and then begin to beeline to the front door when Toby finally gets out of the bed, ignoring the cries of confusion pouring from Natalie’s mouth.

Your heart races when you realize Toby is gaining on you. Your vision blurs through your tears.

He’s calling out for you, his stutter even stronger than before, bones popping louder and louder as he gets hit with the weight of what he’s done to you. “Stop! S-Stop fucking m-m-moving!” He hisses, his calloused hand reaching out for your wrist, successfully grabbing you.

You snarl like a caged, wounded animal, flesh burning at the contact. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you sneer as you attempt to rip your wrist from his iron grasp. In your other hand, you already have the car keys ready. You just want to be anywhere but here.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” Toby says, attempting to pull you into a hug.

You struggle against him harder, hissing to be let go. The keys in your free hand are getting threaded in your fingertips. Your tears feel warm and boil your cheeks as they roll down like waterfalls. The harder he grips you, the more you feel you’ve been burned to a point of no return. “God fucking damn it, let me go!” You shout, not even noticing how Natalie has come out of the room to get Toby off of you. She’s quickly gaining in the hallway, confused on if she should step in or not.

Toby tries harder and harder to pull you into his embrace, and that’s when you strike.

You take your car key filled fingers and punch as hard as you can, the teeth of the keys dragging across Toby’s cheek, successfully shocking him into letting you go. You don’t even consider how badly you’ve hurt him and take the opportunity of his shock to flee the temp house, quickly hopping into the car.

“Reader!” Toby shouts, hand on his right cheek, not even caring about the claw marks you’ve left. “B-Baby, let’s t-talk about t-this-”

You start honking the horn to drown his voice out. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a scowl on your face, glare holding nothing but bullets towards Toby and Natalie as she attempts to wrangle him back into the house.

You watch as her arms wrap around his waist - she’s surprisingly gentle for dealing with such a belligerent man - before peeling out of the driveway, hand still honking the horn and practically waking up the neighborhood while you’re at it.

Your mind overloads as you drive, thoughts of the sun getting eclipsed by the other celestial body that overtakes it in full, swallowing it whole. You mutter angrily to yourself, turning on the radio for just noise as you finally get onto the expressway. And you drive. You drive until your head feels clear again, and when it does, you’re finally able to focus on something other than what’s in front of you on the endless stretch of road.

Autumn is making its way in, that much is apparent. Every now and then, specks of orange and red zip past your high beams. It’s cooler, and you swear you’ve passed a few flowering pumpkin patches.

You look to your left, gazing out the window for a moment or so.

The moon is decidedly absent this night.

You sigh as the fires extinguish in your heart, loneliness, sadness and any other emotion draining alongside it leaving a pit in your chest.

The emptiness quickly takes its place, haunting you like the ghost it is.

[simp4men]

The Hacker Sister part 2

AN: Here is part 2 it’s a little longer this time but it has some key details which are important for the next few parts 

PART 2. 

Once we land, I quickly gather my bags and head to the exit. I call my dad and tell him that I’ve arrived and that I'm waiting for him. Shortly after, I see my dad pull up and I see him excitedly waving and honking the car like a crazy person. I laugh to myself. That’s the one thing I really do respect and admire about my dad. He is not afraid to make a fool out of himself and show his true colors, he doesn’t care about what people think about him. I on the other hand couldn’t be more opposite. I’ve always been self cautious and kept to myself. I never really had any friends in high school and never really liked to go out due to my social anxiety. That’s why me and Vin are so close, since I didn’t really have any friends, I only really hung out with him and spent most of my time at home. Once I see dad pull up in front of me, he gets out of the car to help put my bag in the trunk. He walks over to me and gives me a giant bear hug.

“There's my favorite girl” he says as he gives me a kiss on the head

“Hi dad, i’ve missed you” I mumble into his chest. 

“I’ve missed you too, we all have. Vin and Reg are going to lose there shit when they see you” he laughs 

We back away and get into the car to head back to the hotel. As we are driving my dad plays some music softly as I look out the window. Dad then decided to break the silence.

“So, how have you been sweetie? What’s it like living on your own in NYC?” he asks 

“It’s been fine, as good as it can be I guess. I honestly don’t really know what I wanna do with my life at the moment just going with the flow. I’ve been mentally drained these past couple of weeks so that's part of the reason I wanted to come see you guys. But on a positive note I haven't had an anxiety attack in a while.” I say, trying to lighten the mood a little 

My dad sighs, my family knows that I struggle with anxiety and that I went through a hard time in high school. I honestly give both my mom and dad credit. They really tried to help me, I had a therapist who I saw regularly but that only helped for a while. When I would have my anxiety attacks Vinnie would be the only person who would be able to calm me down. 

As we finally arrive at the hotel, I start to get nervous. I see a lot of people everywhere and I can already tell that this is gonna be a lot for me to handle. I stay in the car until dad is parked and gets out to grab my bag. He comes around to open my door. He holds out his hand for me to take and I instantly grab it. As we make our way into the lobby, my anxiety starts to kick in. A few people call out my dad’s name and he just nods to them. We quickly make it to the elevator and as the door closes I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Once we get to our floor we walk towards my parents room. My mom opens the door and has the biggest smile on her face. 

“Hi baby, I missed you so much” She says, engulfing me in a hug. 

“Hi mama, I missed you too” I say 

“Alright we need to go surprise the boys now, I can't wait to see their reaction” she says 

“Where are they?” I ask 

“There in another room, since we didn't think you would be coming, the boys are sharing a room but we can figure out where you will be sleeping later.” 

As we walk out and down the hallway to the next room over, I hide behind my dad as my mom knocks on their door. Reggie opens the door and I step out from behind my dad.

“Surprise” I yell 

“No fucking way! Y/N what are you doing here?” Reggie says shocked 

“I wanted to surprise you dumbass.” I laugh 

I go to give Reggie a hug, as I look behind him I see Vinnie standing there with his mouth open looking like he’s about to cry. As I let go of Reggie I make my way to Vinnie and instantly give him a hug. I wrap my arms around his neck and he wraps his around my waist. I have to stand on my tip toes because he’s so tall. His face instantly goes to my neck and I feel tears on my shoulder. 

“Aww Vin please don’t cry” I say 

“I just missed you so much, I haven’t seen you in forever. Why haven't you talked to me in the last couple of weeks? We call each other everyday and then you just didn’t pick up the phone, I was starting to get worried. Then when mom said you weren't coming to the match of course I started to freak out.” He says

“I missed you too, so much. I was just going through a lot mentally and didn’t really wanna talk to anyone and I didn’t wanna make you worried or upset. But i’m here now.” I say 

As we pull away I wipe away his tears from his face, he smiles and kisses my forehead. 

“Aww all my babies finally reunited, I’m so happy were all together again” mom says 

“Y/N were heading to lunch and then going straight to the weigh in right after, do you have everything you need” dad says 

“Umm yeah I think,” I hesitantly say 

“Great, well then let's go guys.” 

We all make our way out of the hotel room to the elevator, mom and dad are in the front, while me, Vinnie, and Reggie are behind. Once we make it on the elevator dad looks at me. 

“Y/N i’m just warning you, there’s gonna be a lot of people once we get out of this elevator. Most of them are here for Vin, so i’m gonna have him go first and then you and mom can walk after” dad says seriously 

I just nod my head and keep my head down. I grab on to mom’s hand and as the elevator opens and we step out, an instant crowd starts forming. All I see are a bunch of girls all yelling trying to get Vinnie’s attention, with their phones out taking pictures, Vin tries to stop and take pictures with everyone. While that is happening mom walks me outside and into the car while we wait for Vin, Reg and dad. Finally they get in the car and Vin sits next to me. 

“I don’t know how you can do that, there’s so many people.” I say to him 

“I know it’s a lot but I feel like I need to say hi to them and take pictures with them because they are the reason I get to do this” he says 

I nod my head and start fidgeting with my hands, a thing I do when I'm nervous. I’m just not used to that many people. Vinnie notices my hands and quickly grabs them and starts rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand to help calm me down. I sigh and lean my head against the window as we start driving to lunch. 

[hotwings0203]

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

 It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

 You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. 

 Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

 ¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

 ¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

 ¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

 ¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

 ¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

 At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

 He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

 ¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

 Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

 ¨No way.¨

 ¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

 ¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

 ¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

 You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

 ¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

 It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

 ¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

 ¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

 You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

 Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

 Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

 When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

 So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

 The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

 Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

 You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

 Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

 Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

 Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

 Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

 Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

 You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

 After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

 Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

 Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

 From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand. 

 ¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

 ¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

 You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

 Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

 Damon barely acknowledges you.

 He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

 You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

 Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

 And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

 Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally. 

 Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

 Everyone except Damon Albarn.

 The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

 ¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

 ¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

 Until he spoke.

 ¨Is this your first time playing?¨

 You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures. 

 ¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

 ¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

 But nonetheless, you don't back down.

 ¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

 ¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

 ¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

 ¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

 The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

 ¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

 You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

 ¨I didn´t-¨

 ¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

 You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

 The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

 Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

 He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

 It's quiet for a moment.

 ¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

 ¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

 You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

 ¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

 Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

 ¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

 ¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

 Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

 You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

 Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

 Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

 You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

 Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

 The obsidian glass rolls down.

 ¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

 Oh.

 ¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

 ¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

 ¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

 ¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

 ¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

 ¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

 You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky. 

 He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

 You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

 The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

 You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

 ¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

 ¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

 ¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

 Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨ 

 He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

 You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

 You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

 ¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

 Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

 ¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

 You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

 ¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

 Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

 Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

 But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

 ¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

 ¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

 What a save.

 *******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

 But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

 ¨You´re late.¨

 ¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

 ¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance. 

 The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

 It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

 During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship. 

 Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

 Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

 Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

 For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you. 

 Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

 ¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

 ¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

 Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

 ¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

 ¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

 His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

 ¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

 ¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

 Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

 ¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

 Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

 ¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

 You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

 The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

 Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

 Take right now, for instance.

 As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

 You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

 Weather-2

You-0

 You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

 And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

 The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

 All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

 ¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

 Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

 Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

 You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier. 

 ¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

 Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

 He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

 ¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

 He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

 He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

 For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

 ¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

 He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

 ¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

 But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

 ¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

 Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

 ¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

 You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

 ¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

 ¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

 There it was again, pretty woman.

 You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

 ¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

 Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

 He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

 You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

 ¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

 He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

 ¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

 He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

 But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

 ******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

 So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

 The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

 No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

 ¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

 ¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

 You feel your smile drop a smidge.

 ¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

 But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

 Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

  Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

 ¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

 ¨Damon!¨

 You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

 Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

 ¨Get out.¨

 ¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him. 

 ¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

 Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

 You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

 It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

 ************

 It's nighttime.

 The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

 Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

 Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall. 

 The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

 Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

 ¨Looking for something?¨

 You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

 ¨D-Damon?¨ 

 ¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

 You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

 ¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

 ¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

 You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

 He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

 You can´t help the scoff that escapes you. 

 ¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

 He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

 It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

 ¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the  door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

 A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

 ¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

 You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

 His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

 ¨You smell so good.¨

 ¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

 He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

 ¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

 You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

 ¨We can´t.¨

 ¨Sure we can.¨

 You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

 ¨You´re not worth this.¨

 ¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

 And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

 You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

 ¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

 You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

 But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

 You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

 He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

 ¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

 You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

 It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

 ¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

 ¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

 He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

 But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

 His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

 ¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

 You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

 With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

 You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 ¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

 Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

 Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

 You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

 He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

 ¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

 Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

 You want to run your hands through his hair.

 ¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

 ¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

 Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

 ¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

 Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

 He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

 You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

 It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

 And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

 He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

 Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

 ¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

 Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

 You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

 It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

 He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

 For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

 He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

 ¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops. 

 You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

 ¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

 ¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

 ¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

 He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

 It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

 You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

 ¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

 He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

 ¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

 ¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

 ¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

 ¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

 Halfway?

 Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

 Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

 His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

 He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

 Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary. 

 You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

 It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

 You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

 ¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

 ¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

 It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

 Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

 He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

 Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

 Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

[glitterfairy-21225]

In which Peter has a child while stuck in the mcu: *takes deep breath*

He’s definitely living with Wanda post WV, so she’s there.

I don’t know a lot about inhumans but I know a little. Maybe Crystal is on earth for some reason, or the royal family just invites Wanda to the moon after learning about Westview b/c they want the tea, I guess. But Crystal and Peter meet.

They don’t get married, they don’t even officially date, so when Crystal announces she’s pregnant literally everyone is blindsided.

Wanda’s reaction is the best. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s her facial expressions as this is all going down. Her facial expressions.

Peter panics. Obviously. He runs around frantically with no rhyme or reason. He trashed his room. He’s screaming at a pitch only Crystal’s giant dog can hear.

He confides in Wanda about his piles of daddy issues, compounded by the fact that he never told his father the truth.... And also the fact that he was a terrorist.

But now it’s like, what happens if he goes back to his universe. He doesn’t want to to be an absentee father.

So he makes a difficult decision to stay in the mcu for the child. He still wants to go back to the x men to make sure his friends and family know he’s okay, but he wants to stay with his kid.

In the wake of his decision, Peter is high on emotion and decides that he needs to go the extra mile for this fatherhood schtick.

So he and Crystal elope.

Literally. Everyone. Thinks. This. Is. Questionable.

They’re divorced before she gives birth.

Not even a bitter divorce, just a ‘Ok, marriage at this point was probably a mistake.....’ divorce.

He and Wanda binge watch kids movies that came out from after he was taken from the x men.

Labor time!

Peter’s definitely a ping-pong whatever. When Crystal cries, he cries. When she screams, he screams.

But then Luna is born and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life, and he just can’t. He’s crying on his own behalf.

Crystal holds her first, and then Peter, and the first thing he says to her is with teary eyes, so loving, so tenderly, is ‘You are gonna piss so many people off,’ in the softest voice you can imagine.

When the rest of the family comes in to meet her, Peter turns on the Lion King music, which he saw in the binge, and holds her up.

Wanda gets to hold her next, and Peter’s all ‘Meet your Aunt Wanda, Luna!’ And it’s a moment, because yeah, Tommy and Billy called him uncle, and he’s made it clear he loves them as such, but that was when he was brainwashed, so this. This is such a moment for Wanda.

And Wanda misses her boys so much, but the amount of love she feels for this girl overwhelms her bad she really believes she’s not alone anymore.

Afterwards, the three of them (Peter, Wanda, and Luna) are all curled up on a hospital bed together. Like they would be if Peter was the one who gave birth, but instead they just stole a bed to cuddle on because they’re emotionally drained.

Crystal is giving them the side eye from the other bed like, *guys it’s my special day too.*

Peter looks down at his bundle of joy and decides to make a speech to her.

He takes a deep breath. ‘Luna Maximoff’ (‘We did not discuss last names, Peter!’) ‘Your father is.... the problem in every relationship he has ever had. Except for the ones with people who are bigots, those guys suck. And he’s gonna be problem in ours. But I promise you, even if I make a million mistakes, and I will, I will try my very best to make sure you are the one person in this family who’s life isn’t made up of one traumatic experience after the other. Because you are the love and light of my life.’

Awwww.

Oh and Wanda definitely has a himym moment where she looks back all the stupid stuff Peter has done and thinks, ‘That guys a dad now.’

Except her flashback was from that morning.

Of course, that doesn’t get rid of all his deep emotional baggage. And he’s so worried about messing Luna up that he’s a complete motherhen.

He rants to Wanda, ‘Let’s face it, you and I are both going to hell,’ Because even if he loves Wanda, he’s not gonna excuse what she did to Westview, and for himself he has self esteem issues. So Wanda is :000. But Peter just continues. ‘But I really don’t want that for her!’

Anyways, Wanda starts hearing her kids and that kicks off their next big adventure, with Peter reluctantly leaving Luna with her mom.

He writes her a final letter in case he dies so she knows he loves her very much. But don’t worry, Peter’s not gonna die, so this is just a character quirk for now. It’s always quirky until someone dies.

I know that the ‘X men see WandaVision broadcast’ thing should logically stop after episode seven, but for this we’re gonna say the broadcast showed the entire, actual show, with all the SWORD and Agatha stuff. And then it starts playing Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness! And there’s a flashback to Luna’s birth.

It’s been a few years, and the x men have already had a funeral for him, so seeing this is..... wow.

Raven’s long since spilled the beans to Erik about his son, and he’s not been taking it well.

So seeing that his son is not only alive and well, but that he also has a granddaughter, (and maybe even an au daughter) makes him cry in front of everyone.

Also, maybe the team was just a bit unappreciative of him, not enough for us to bash them, but enough to make them feel guilty. So seeing him thriving without them stirs up some emotions.

Also maybe he has an ex on the team, and it ended because Peter’s bad at handling things. For maximum feels.

They know from the broadcast that Peter plans to stay in the mcu with his daughter and that makes them all sad, but it’s a really good reason and they’re almost all sensible enough to accept this.... After a proper goodbye of course.

We’ll get back to Erik’s feelings in a sec.

They make a portal, and all go to the mcu to help out in the final fight. They reunite with Peter, who runs to get Luna, even though she’s not on earth, so that they can all meet her.

Erik holds Luna and goes ‘You will lead millions! Willingly or as slaves.’

It reminds him of holding Nina and he wishes he held Peter and it’s so special.

They say their goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Erik is conflicted, because his child (children) is staying in alternate universe and this is where his granddaughter is, so if he can’t convince them to come back to the x men verse then maybe the best thing he can do is move to the mcu.

But Charles a school to look after, so that leads a horrible question; Will Cherik have to break up again?

Doctor Strange just rolls his eyes and says fuck it, because reality is already messed up so why not? And he gives the Maximoffs a key to crossover whenever they want. And it only works for them.

So Luna has all the inhumans and all the x men loving her so much, with the best dad, aunt, and grandpas in both worlds.

And of course with the coolest cousins a girl could ask for!

[marvelatthetwilight]

Sick of Secrets

A/N: Sorry this took so long everyone!

Part 1: The Secret

Part 2: The Secret’s Out

Part 3: Secrets and Lies

“Demetri, tell me what’s happened” You asked as your feet are finally placed back on solid ground.

“My love, we need to leave. As soon as it is safe I will tell you everything you need to know” he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and gently strokes his fingers down to your lips. Your heart beats faster, but, just as you think he will meet your lips with his own, something you have been craving since you first met, he moves away and you are desperate to feel his touch again.

He turns from you and looks back into the forest, towards the clearing where you last saw your friends.

You can tell he’s deep in thought, possibly listening for something, someone. He looks conflicted, like he is torn between staying here with you and helping who you know he thinks of as his family.

He looks back to you again, and the deep frown quickly disappears and is replaced with a small smile.

“Please Demetri.”

He hums slightly, as if he is thinking of how to word what he is about to say.

“Something is happening, well, about to happen, I sensed it, and I had to protect you. I had to get you away from there. But now I’ve potentially put you more at risk.” He walks slowly back towards you and takes your hand in his.

Now it was your turn to frown, “What’s happening? Why won’t you tell me? I’m sick of the secrets Demetri.”

Demetri hesitates before bringing your hand to his mouth to place a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“My loyalty was always to the Volturi, without question. For centuries I have done what they ask. But the moment I saw you on that street, I knew I would do anything to protect you. Until now the Volturi hasn’t ever been a threat to you, so they haven’t seen my loyalty waver, you’ve been safe, but now you are at risk and now I’ve realised that I will always choose you. I did it without thinking.”

You nod slowly, still not sure what this means. Demetri seems to sense this, and he continues.

“Aro likes to collect guard members he thinks are powerful, to reinforce our power within the vampire world. He wants Alice. And he will do what he can to get her.”

Your heart rate increases as Demetri’s words ring in your head over and over. Your friends are at risk.

“Once they are finished they will come for us, they know they will come for you to force my loyalty to the Volturi again. If I have nothing else to live for, they can bind me to them once more.”

“So my friends will die because Aro wants Alice? You could have warned them, could have said something.”

“I think Alice knew what would happen Y/N”

You think back to Alice leaving with Jasper, maybe she saw this vision happening, maybe she had a back up plan.

Pulling your hands away from his you turn towards the forest. You think of your friends, your heart breaking at not being able to do more to help them, but not knowing what was happening was somehow worse. You were completely in the dark.

“We have to go Y/N, we have to get away from here.”

He reaches out for you and you pull back.

“But what if everything is ok? What if they overpower the Volturi and they are not at risk? Then we could live however we wish?” You plead with him to see your view.

He looks deep in thought, his eyes focused towards the clearing.

“I can still sense everyone where we left them, nothing has happened yet, we still have time to get away. Please, run with me.” He turns to you, his eyes piercing into your own. He takes your hands again and you nod. Knowing that there was no way you could be apart from him again, willing to follow him anywhere.

A clear flaw in Demetri’s plan is that he had forgotten about your humanity. He hadn’t planned to stop, but had forgotten that you needed sleep, it had been so long since he had spent a prolonged period time with a human.

He found a small motel a couple of hours into your journey when he realised you were falling asleep and shivering at the sudden drop in temperature that evening.

You stir awake to find yourself in a bed, wrapped in blankets with Demetri sat in a chair in the corner staring out of the window.

“Demetri? Where are we?”

He rushes to your side and cups your face with his hand.

“You were asleep my love, and you were so cold I feared you would never be warm again. I had to find somewhere to stop for you, although we need to get moving again soon.”

You look around once more, remembering the events of the day before.

“Can you find them? Are they still alive?”

Demetri sighs at this question.

“When we were running yesterday I couldn’t sense any of the Cullens, it was as if they had disappeared. Then this morning I searched again and I found them, not far from the clearing where we left them. They seem to be alive. I don’t really understand what happened.”

“So we can go back to them?” You get up from the bed and walk towards him.

He shakes his head slowly.

“I’m sorry cara mia, we can’t risk the Volturi finding us. Not until I know what has happened. I have my sources, I promise we will work it out.”

A small tear falls down your face as you turn to look at the cars passing outside.

“I just thought this was going to go differently. That we would be leaving to set up a life, not leaving everything and being on the run.”

Demetri holds your head with his hand and rubs his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears which were now streaming down your face.

“I know my darling, I know.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

You join Demetri on the chairs by the window, asking him questions about his life.

“There is so much I want to know” he smiles at you as he holds out his hand. You take it and return his smile.

“We will have forever for me to tell you, and forever to make our own memories and take our own adventures.”

Your heart flutters at the thought and your face flushes. Looking up at Demetri’s eyes you can see they are darker than they were yesterday, his eyes meet your own before they glance down at your lips then back up again.

He closes the distance between you and holds the back of your head as he pulls you towards him. Your hands are shaking as you trace the shape of his face, fingers gently running along his jaw line to his lips. Demetri finally presses his lips to yours and your body fizzes with passion.

When he pulls away you unintentionally whine and pout slightly at the loss of contact. He chuckles under his breath.

“I know my love, but I must feed. You make it very hard to keep control.”

You nod and make your way back to the bed with the promise that after one more nap you would be ready to travel again.

After about an hour you are woken by a rustling at the door. Thinking it’s Demetri returning, you think nothing of it and close your eyes again. The sound continues, but now it sounds like someone is trying to get in, but can’t get their key to fit, it’s not Demetri. You sit still, hoping whoever it was would leave as soon as they realised it wasn’t their room.

The noise stops, and you settle back into bed, resting your head on the pillow again. Just as you close your eyes you hear a loud thud and a crack as the door is forced open, a large man with a wiry beard and a strong odour of alcohol comes bounding towards the bed.

“I saw your man friend leave, it didn’t seem fair that he gets to keep you to himself...”

Before you could react, he throws himself on you, and you are forced still on the bed by his weight on top of you.

Your thoughts go to Demetri as you will him to come back, to come back in time to help you, to save you.

It takes a minute for you to realise that the pain you feel isn’t from the drunk man forcing himself on you, but from your stomach. The man chuckles as he pulls away from you and you see the blood. As he stands up, you see the knife in his hand, just as comes towards you again with his knife held up high you see Demetri at the door. Demetri.

Then everything goes black.

Demetri’s POV

No, no, no, no, no. I dispose of the man’s limp body to the side of the bed and rush back to Y/N.

Her skin is cold, and her colour is draining.

So much blood.

I take a deep breath that I don’t need to help my mind focus. Carlisle. Where is Carlisle?

I find his tenor, and quickly wrap Y/N in some blankets, lifting her into my arms and running as fast as I can.

As I reach the house, I don’t ring the doorbell, I don’t knock. I think as loud as I can as I get closer, Y/N needs help, quick.

Just as I get to the top step the door flies open, Edward meets my eyes and nods, motioning to the door down the corridor where Carlisle is waiting for us.

“Carlisle, you have to help her.”

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @fatiguing-thoughts @clearwater-hoe @teampaul @wallwriterstuff @like-rain-or-confetti @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @raindancer2004 @officialfictionalwreck @megzdoodle @slasher-sweetie @evakipara @reclusive-chicken-nugget @icarusinstatic @holl2712

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”  

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”  

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane." 

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23​ | @notcookiebelle​ | @greeneyedblondie44​ | @icanbeyourjedi​ | @princess76179​ | @knivesareout​ | @phoenixpascal​ | @lexi-b-writes​ | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @mouthymandalorianalso​ | @starlightmornings​ | @soyelfuegoquearde​ | @darnitdraco​​ | @green-socks​​ | @the-feckless-wonder​​ | @hnt-escape​​ | @sarahjkl82-blog​​ | @klaine-92​

[plsimsuchasimp]

i’m sorry (ft: sugawara).

by request: “Hi!!!! Okay im so glad your requests are open - could I please request some angst with Sugawara? Where the reader is his best friend and secretly loves him but he doesn’t know? Then maybe the reader and Suga fight and then reader gets hurt or something (maybe a car accident) and when the Karasuno team finds out, Suga is devastated and goes to the hospital and tell the reader that he loves them?? Thank you!! ❤️” -anon

yes anon i’m happy to do this- i kinda changed up the prompt a lil bit so i’m sorry about that but i hope this measures up to your standards! (i’m ridiculously soft for suga so this makes sense)

genre: sadness (literal tears were shed in the process of making this)

ft: sugawara koushi x reader

warnings: car crash, fighting, cursing, hospitalization, death

wc: 2k

“Y/n, why are you so upset? I get that you’re concerned, and I’m grateful for that, but she’s genuinely a good person and I’m serious about her!” Suga walks away from you, his back turned, shoulders raised slightly in his sweater. You can sense his frustration, his confusion, but you don’t care. His face is pouty, lip sticking out ever so slightly, and you know you can’t look at him or you won’t be able to keep yourself from kissing him right then and there.

The thing is, you know she’s a good person. And that’s what hurts. See, you’ve been in love with Sugawara Koushi since the day you met him at the bus stop five years ago, on a hot summer day with a butterfly in his hair.

You can’t stop him from getting a new girlfriend, and you know it’s selfish of you to hope he likes you the way you like him, to hold on to him for all these years.

Sometimes when it’s late, you let yourself drift into your memories. The spring days when he would take you hiking, out into the mountains to show you his favorite spots, the times when your stomachs hurt from laughing at the dirty jokes he found off of random places on the internet, the rainy moments and baking cookies when it just seemed calm. With Suga, you felt at home like nowhere else. 

Now, your eyes sting unfairly, and you turn away from him as he glares towards you, brow furrowed. Struggling to keep your voice even, you say, “I know, okay Kou? I just- I don’t know, she gives me bad vibes.”

You know he doesn’t mean to be rude, but when he scoffs, your heart squeezes just a bit and tears prick your eyes. “You’re telling me to call off a whole relationship because she gives you bad vibes? You did this with all of my exes, too!” Suga sighs, hands on his hips. “You know you’re my best friend, but honestly, y/n, this has to stop. You can’t control my life!” 

He’s right. You know he’s right, and that’s the harsh thing about it. You want him all to yourself- everything about him is entrancing, intoxicating, familiar. Jealousy is a bitch.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

At this point, his jaw drops open at the sheer audacity of your remark. “I can’t do this with you today.” He throws up his hands and sits on the bed, making it clear he doesn’t really want to talk anymore.

Suga never really fights with you. He teases endlessly, but he always stops himself before he really hurts you, and the fights between the two of you are always calmer on his side. He’s usually the first to apologize, but it seems this is a sticking point for the two of you.

“Well? Go!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets it. You flinch backwards at his words, and he doesn’t miss the unmistakable glint of tears in your eyes as you walk out of the room.

“Fine, I guess I will!” As soon as you’re outside, you cover your mouth with your hand, your vision blurred from large drops threatening to spill from your eyelashes. You muffle your sobs with the sleeve of a sweatshirt Suga lent you, and it just makes you cry harder when you breathe in his slight cologne. 

He wasn’t going to let her go this time. You missed your chance.

You’re running, but where to? As soon as your thoughts stop spinning, your feet freeze, and you glance around you. Shaky breaths escape you as you duck your head and attempt to cross the street, questioning looks from passerby making your cheeks heat up. 

All of a sudden, you hear a car horn and freeze to see a car speeding towards you, out of control. The last thing you see before everything goes black is a child pointing at you, and you almost laugh at the incredulity of the situation. Then you black out on impact.

Back at Suga’s home, he sits in his bed, running his fingers through his silky hair. He curses under his breath, already hating the feeling. 

He hates when the only person he’s ever truly loved is mad at him. 

Honestly, Koushi can’t fathom why he keeps getting other people to date him, momentary distractions from his everlasting affection for you. You, the only person who’s there for him when he’s hurting, the only real friend to stay near him through everything, the only person he fell in love with on first sight. He wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to ruin this was. 

Better to be certain friends with you and never get what he truly wanted than to try and lose you completely.

Suga picks up the phone to text you when he receives a call from an unfamiliar number, marked as the hospital of your district.

“Hello?"

“Is this Sugawara Koushi?” The female voice on the other end of the line asks.

“Yes, is everything okay?” He responds, curious as to why the hospital is calling him in the middle of the day.

“Well, we have Y/N L/N here, and you’re listed as one of their emergency contacts. Would you mind coming to the hospital to fill out some paperwork?”

Immediately, his world freezes. “W-what did you say?”

“I said, Y/N L/N is in the hospital and we need you to come in and see them.” She’s patient with him, voice even and calm, clearly used to people in shock from news of their loved ones. “They were involved in a car accident.”

He nods, momentarily forgetting she can’t see him. “Yeah, I’m on my way.” 

The line clicks, and he sits there for only a minute before hurrying down to his car, grabbing the keys and starting the car. He seems to forget basic movements, mind consumed only with thoughts of you. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, edging above the speed limit on the road. He was tempted to honk at someone, but refrains from it, knowing it won’t help with the turmoil of emotions he was feeling.

Then, it hit him. This was his fault. He almost stopped the car in the middle of the road, throat closing as guilt washed over him. Koushi didn’t know you’d take it so hard, didn’t mean for it to come off that harshly.

He arrived at the hospital, and as he walked in, the receptionist looked up at him.

“Sugawara Koushi?” 

“Yes,” he said, and watched the smile slowly fade from her face. He noticed she tried to hide it, ducking her head, but it was too late. “Are they- are they going to be okay?” he gulped as she didn’t respond.

“Room 208,” she said curtly, “You should probably go in.”

The lights seemed to blur into each other as Suga practically ran to your room. Every footstep seemed to take forever, travel only a few centimeters forward. He couldn’t get there fast enough, accidentally bumping into the wall and muttering a hushed “sorry” to it.

He arrived. The door was almost too heavy, or maybe it was just the fear making his limbs heavy as lead.

There you lay, and it was worse than he thought.  Tubes of all sorts trailed from your body to things around the bed, crowding and seeming to close you in. Scratches ran down your cheek and there was dried blood on your hairline, streaking down your face. The breath fell from his throat and he stood in the doorway, paralyzed. 

This could not be happening. 

One look and he could tell you weren’t going to be okay. An IV drip led into your left arm, and you were unconscious, so fragile, so angelic. It looked as if you were only sleeping, like the countless times you’d snuggled into Suga’s shoulder in the warm summer nights, staring at the blanket of glittering stars far above. The ones in your eyes, though, outshone them all. 

When you slept, you always seemed so peaceful, so comforted, but now your brow was slightly furrowed, your lips drained of color and slightly parted. Even in this state, you were still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

Shakily, he made his way to the chair and sat down in it. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry, and tears were dripping down his face before he could wipe them away. A choked sob escaped him as he reached out his hand, hovering over your limp one. 

He took your hand, and he hunched over to feel how cold it was. Your hands were always colder than his, which made him a perfect match for you. Never before, though, had he felt this ice. 

Suga’s shoulders began to shake, and he clutched your hand, silently begging you not to leave, please please please don’t leave me, i don’t know if i can survive without you. Of course, there was no response but the steady beep of the heart monitor, the only thing reassuring him that you were still there. 

Shaking, he brought your hand to his lips, barely brushing them against your knuckles. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Whispered words fell gently from his lips, trying to stay composed for you. “Please stay with me. Please don’t leave.” His tone rises, voice breaking in desperation. “P-please.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rocked back and forth, holding your hand as if it was the only thing tying him down. “I-I love you.”

There. He said it, those three words he’d wanted to say since the day he saw you smile for the first time. Hopelessly, madly, endlessly in love with you, only you. 

When you didn’t respond, he let himself sob, let the pain overtake him. Hot, salty tears spilled onto your hand, and he silently wished for a sign, a movement, anything to show that you weren’t gone just yet.

In that moment, he whispered everything he wanted to say to you, a thousand words choking him and clogging his throat to the point where he couldn’t breathe anymore.

The doctor came in, shutting the door silently behind him. “Sugawara-”

“Call me Suga.” His voice was quiet, reserved, threatening to break.

“I’m afraid y/n isn’t going to make it.” The doctor sighed, mercifully pretending not to notice Suga’s muffled cry. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“You’re joking, right?” Suga raised his head, puffy, red eyes desperate. “Please- tell me you’re joking.” The silence from the doctor told him otherwise, and Suga felt his heart shatter in that instant.

He squeezed your hand, and just as he did, the heart monitor stopped beeping, a flat tone emitting from it. He couldn’t stop the heartbroken cry from spilling from his mouth, his breath stolen by the endless constriction of guilt and grief in his chest. 

He stayed there for another two hours, crying over your hand limp in his grasp. When Daichi arrived at the hospital to drive him home, he didn’t want to leave. 

Suga stared out of the car window, numb. It was impossible- the world couldn’t be this cruel. 

It’s your fault, your fault, your fault, the voice in his head whispered. The broken sobs that spilled out of him hurt, stabbed at his breathing, but he didn’t care. It was his fault that you were gone, forever. 

The rest of the day passed in a haze, the sun setting with flared colors that you would have loved. The stars were brilliant, but Suga couldn’t look at them. His pillow smelled like you, and everywhere he looked had some imprint, some memory of you. You were the only person he’d ever love, and you had been stolen from the world in an instant.

In the months afterwards, nothing was the same. He saw you everywhere, expecting to see your texts pop up on his phone, accidentally ordered your drink at the boba place you would always go to. 

At the funeral, his stiff black suit seemed awkward, but you always said he looked handsome in one. That was the last time he got to see your face besides pictures, the fading memory of the person who loved him for who he was.

the person who he would love for the rest of his life.

you’re an angel in my eyes.

a/n: tbh this is probably one of the most painful things i’ve written so far suga im so sorry also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 50 FOLLOWERS ITS CRAZY i finished this at 2am i’m going to be so sad if it flops <\3

[nohoney]

fix it yourself

notes: Jealous by Eyedress low key inspired this work, I surprisingly got this done pretty quick considering that I first typed this up back in September and sorta just held onto it for a while

warnings: 18+, pretty angsty, slight codependency, implied/referenced abuse, implied/referenced assault, murder, PTSD attack

summary:

Blood on your cheek, bruises around your neck, hands dirty with dried blood, you’re unnervingly calm.

“I did something…” you tell Dabi, the paramour that you easily just accepted into your life since that first dirty fuck in that alley.

“Let me in doll.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✧

Dabi’s not necessarily the most affectionate of lovers or the nicest but he looks out for your wellbeing. He plucked you from your shit circumstances of abuse, something that he could very much relate to, and taken you to a place that he deems suitable enough for you. You’re not exactly looking for luxury, just finally a place to escape the screaming, the hitting, and the boozing. In a way, you owe Dabi your life since he had found you at just the right moment when you were ready to give up on the world.

He had first seen you outside of a club, shit faced right outside the entrance, the bass of the music still achingly loud as you threw up into the street. You were no different than any other broken face he had come across, his own including when he looked into the mirror, but you made looking sad and broken into a fucking art. To him you were like a fallen angel, wings dragging in the mud of the earth as you searched for something else to take the pain away. More booze, maybe a fling for the night, maybe a narcotic if you sought out the right people.

Dabi could see that you were corrupted long ago and he imagined in his own mind how innocent you may have been before the world threw you to the ground and pressed your face to the dirt. Were you sheltered at first, not knowing anything about the cruel reality before being thrust into it? Or maybe you were raised in toxicity, doing your best to remain pure and gold hearted before you eventually began to die inside. It’s not always like in those cheesy movies where the main hero can keep their cheery constitution in the face of adversity; in reality someone has to break. He had to know who you were, what shitty home did you drag your feet to, and he just had to have you to himself.

Never mind the story of how he was finally tired of observing you, just plucked you off the street as you were walking in the dead of night, how you eyed him up and down and liked what you saw before pushing your dress up over your hips and pulled your panties to the side for him. Dabi just fucked you in the most nearby alley, just barely able to make you keep your voice down as he thrust into you roughly from behind while pinching your clit. Never mind how he was addicted in just a matter of seconds when your pussy clenched around him and how your first words to him were, “Don’t tell me your name, just fuck me the hardest you can.”

Oh he liked you right away; not only were you broken but you were a slut too?

Dabi could have been like any other scumbag who would just finish and leave you to stumble your way back home. No, Dabi decided that you were his and that it was his duty to make sure that you made it back safe to wherever it was you called home. He wanted to be sure he would have more chances to fuck you. You didn’t look back the first time he had dropped you off in front of a decently sized house, opening the gate to let yourself in and closing it behind you.

Yelling, the shatter of a bottle, a groan of frustration with a door being slammed, he could hear it from where he stood outside the gate to your home.

An abusive father maybe? Perhaps a shit boyfriend that you’re playing girlfriend/mother to?

You don’t tell Dabi anything what goes on behind the doors of your home. The only thing you tell him is how you want to be fucked when he decides to present himself to you on his own time.

He finds out eventually on his own and he has half a mind to take matters into his own hands. No one hurts you unless it’s by his own hand, and only when you ask in that cute pitched voice he likes when you’re about to come undone. Your sanity is just barely hanging off the edge of a cliff when Dabi had arrived to your home in the middle of the night just to check up on you. You stand on the other side of the gate just as he steps to the front. Blood on your cheek, bruises around your neck, hands dirty with dried blood, you’re unnervingly calm.

“I did something…” you tell Dabi, the paramour that you easily just accepted into your life since that first dirty fuck in that alley.

“Let me in doll.”

The place you once called home catches fire and you’re reported as missing.

Dabi takes you to the League’s headquarters and they quietly accept you.

The League doesn’t pay much attention to you unless Dabi allows you to sit with them, and that’s only if he’s with you. Most of the time you’re secluded away from them and the main interactions you get are primarily with Dabi. You’re a mysterious entity to them that had one day just arrived in tow with Dabi, blood streaked on your face, dirty hands, and bruise marks around your neck. They didn’t suspect it to be his doing, not with the tender way he touched your cheek, rather careful like he’d break you, and sent you up to his room. There was clearly a story to your appearance but whatever happened, it remained between you and Dabi.

Some are curious while the others believe it’s best that they not know; either way, your mouth is kept shut about the day you arrived in the League’s headquarters.

It seems that they don’t mind but you can only guess that Dabi may have something to do with them allowing your presence.

The only friendly ones are Twice and Toga, probably the most rambunctious of the entire group. Twice’s conflicting personalities provide an entertainment you’d never seen before and Toga cozies up to you, calling you big sister and sometimes braiding your hair. She asks what your blood is like but you refrain from answering her question. When you’re allowed to interact with the League, Twice and Toga make you feel quite comfortable until Dabi stows you away again.

The rest of them are polite, save for the strange leader who seems wary of your presence.

You watch the news report of the fire of your old home and your missing person’s report from the television provided in Dabi’s room. Bad memories of that night haunt you sometimes and you touch your neck, your body remembering for you how rough hands tried to choke you that night but you want to forget. That life is gone, it’s behind you now and you don’t ever have to worry about it again except your stupid mind won’t stop replaying that night for you. Dabi’s not nearby, he’s not available to give you comfort, sent out by the leader to do who knows what for their organization.

There’s a bottle of dark liquor that Dabi didn’t bother to take back down to the bar from the day before.

You reach for it and hope the amber liquid will numb you.

When Dabi returns, he finds you kneeling in front of the toilet with a glass of water nearby your feet. You’re groaning as you reach for the glass of water to help gargle some of the rancid taste off your tongue, your body purging the foul alcohol you consumed with no food in your stomach to cushion the effects of whatever you drank. Whiskey or cognac or bourbon, you don’t know what it was but it hit you good and hard until it was harsh on your tongue and then your body was punishing you for consuming too much.

You lift your head up and see Dabi standing at the entrance of the restroom. That same broken expression from when he first laid eyes on you, from the many times he’d watch you from a distance, and when you’d just stare forward when you’re lost in your own thoughts. You wear it so well, you really are like a melancholy piece of art to him. You’re his pretty, broken little doll and he’ll do as he pleases with you, the best part being how willing and compliant you are.

To be honest, Dabi would like if you at least had a little fight in you sometimes. He’d get such a thrill in fucking you into submission and breaking your will, but you are who you are and he won’t be ungrateful as to what he’s getting from you now. Maybe one day a fire will light within you and you’ll dare yourself to defy him, but in the meantime Dabi is more than happy to have you so obedient to him.

“Stand up doll, back to the room.”

You take the glass of water with you and go back to the room you share with him, the door closing quietly to give you privacy.

“I want to see it Dabi, show me.” you tell him rather curtly as you sit on the edge of the bed, an edge to your voice. You’re still a little drunk so you’re not really being mindful of how you’re speaking to him, alcohol still coursing through your veins and body still trying to metabolize however amount of liquor that your body absorbed into your bloodstream.

“Use your nice words doll.” Dabi admonishes you but there’s not much bite to his words.

You sigh before asking in the way that he wants you to, “Please can I see it Dabi?”

He reaches his left hand forward and creates a small blue flame in the center of his palm. The sight of it calms you down and the anxiety of that night fades in just a few seconds. It’s not an arm around your shoulder or curling into a warm body that eases your nerves; it’s the hot blue flames that burned your old life to the ground. The hands that tried to choke the life out of you are gone, the knife you used to free yourself from your tormentor burnt to ashes, and the blood on your face and hands washed down the drain, it’s all gone but you’re haunted still.

Dabi understands, it can be difficult to find catharsis and he can’t say what method will be best for you to find relief.

He has his planned out long before he met you, he’s just waiting for the right pieces to fall into place. Whether or not you’ll be around for that time, he’s not sure himself.

The flames dissipate and you’re calm now, your head still swimming a little but you’re sober enough now. You delicately hold his left hand in your own smaller ones, the tips of your fingers carefully moving from the harsh contrast of his untouched flesh to the gnarled skin being held together by the surgical staples. It’s so ugly, so ghastly and all over his body, yet you’re not put off by it at all.

You’re not afraid to look Dabi in the eye as he pulls your clothes off your body and roughly pushes you onto the surface of the bed. Your head aches slightly but not enough to complain about it. Your breath hitches in your throat as his mouth closes over your pussy, licking you sloppily and he pulls back to spit onto your clit. He smears his spit all over and chuckles as the tips of his fingers tease over your opening, your body tensing and reacting so beautifully to his touch. When he curls his fingers inside you after pushing them inside, you struggle to hold in your sounds, you don’t want the others to hear.

It’s not like he cares that you’re trying to stifle yourself, you always end up making noise anyway.

“F-Fuck… y-you’re gonna make me cum!” you whine up to the ceiling.

“Where you wanna cum then?” Dabi asks you, his fingers still working intensely but his eyes looking bored at you. The bulge in his pants gives away that he does indeed the position you’re in now, he just likes being the only one composed as you lose yourself. “Tell me.”

His cock, you want to cum on his cock.

Last time he had you sit on his face, licking and eating you out until you were too sensitive and sobbing for him to just let you rest.

So he lies back and has you on top, he’s tired from being out today and is going to make you do the work. Your head lolls back as you sit on his dick, appreciating the fullness for a few seconds before you brace your hands nearby his head, widen your legs for your comfort and begin to fuck him. Dabi’s hands touch the back of your thighs, huffing quietly as he watches you from below, you’re surprisingly enthusiastic when not too long ago you were puking your guts out.

And now here you were, trying to get your guts rearranged by him.

“Come on, this cock is yours… fuck me like you want it. You want it don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes I want it!” you sob out, pushing back onto Dabi’s cock and just desperately trying to chase the ghosts away of your trauma by losing yourself in this carnal moment.

I want to forget, make me forget.

Harder and harder you chase after your high, the only solace you get since your old life burned to the ground, no trace of evidence of bottles of alcohol and walls with punched in holes or even the creaky floorboards you hyper focused on when certain footsteps walked the hallway. All gone, it was gone, and yet it lives on still in your mind and you don’t know what it will take to move on.

You choke up both from the memories and when Dabi begins to thrust up into you.

He’s your savior, he wasn’t necessarily an angel by any means nor the nicest to you, but he saved you and you were entirely grateful to him. So you have to do a good job and please him, you owe it to Dabi to make sure he gets off. You don’t mind that he uses you like this, it’s what he approached you for in the first place when you walked alone in that dark night after leaving a bar. He looked like trouble when you first saw him but you didn’t care, your life was an almost constant stream of chaos and stress, what more could this one man bring to you?

When you’re on round the clock torture, how much more can you step it up?

Dabi brought pain to you, slapping you in sensitive areas as his cock rearranged your guts, but at least it was a wanted pain that had you clenching and gushing around him.

You gasp as Dabi’s cock slips out of you, whining at the emptiness.

“Put it back inside, fix it yourself.”

Fix it yourself.

Fatal words that you spoke that pushed everything over the edge.

‘F-Fix it yourself…! I won’t do it!’

‘What the fuck did you just say to me?’

A hand at your throat, the knife on the chopping board clattering to the floor as you tried to back up, a haphazard slash when you were able to just barely grasp it, blood dripped onto your face before you desperately pushed off the heavy body on top of you. Anxiety, relief, regret, fear, it all coursed through your body in that moment and when you heard a groan, you plunged that same knife in the body to assure that they wouldn’t get back up.

If you had let them live, you were sure that they would make sure you didn’t.

And you sat in your kitchen, knees hugged to your chest, enough time had passed for the blood on your hands to dry and you thought, ‘I need to turn myself over.’

To your surprise Dabi was at your gate when you walked out and instead you numbly asked him for help.

Fix it yourself.

It’s like a shock of cold water and you hop off of him, curling into a ball on the other side of the bed and you’re wracked with sobs.

It’s just not that easy to forget.

Dabi’s surprised how quick you got off him but he understands quickly that he must have triggered something within you. He’s not good at comforting, is unsure what to say as you press your face into a pillow to muffle your crying. He just fixes his cock back into his pants and stares at you, unmoving. He eventually lays down beside you and just rests his hand on your head, still quiet but he figures it’s a good sign that you take his hand and hold it.

Broken, you look so pretty like this, you wore it so naturally unlike others that made them look ugly.

It’s what attracted him to you in the first place.

His pretty broken doll.

The occupants on either side of Dabi’s room can hear it, idly wondering what had happened. First they could hear your wanton little moans and then the next you’re sobbing, not the pleasurable kind but the heartbroken kind. Things must be okay because it quiets down eventually, though not a word spoken between the two of you as far as they could hear. Whatever happened, it’s between the two of you.

Despite the society you lived in, the reverence of heroes and their system of ranking, no one had ever rescued you from your circumstances. It wasn’t a shining hero, it was Dabi that came into your life, you won’t talk about it, he doesn’t want to know.

But he fixed it for you.

[themadauthorshatter]

It's been a while since I did one of these, and I'll be expanding over more of the series.

Here's Part 4 of headcanons I have for Never!Tedros!!

Even when she becomes the coven's new leader, Tedros still hates her guts and it definitely has to do with her treatment of Agatha and letting Dot get kicked out.

In retaliation, he asks Agatha to take her in, which she does, and explains what happened to Dovey, who allows Dot to stay, much to the annoyance of the Evil teachers and a lot of the Nevers, even Sophie.

They have they're confrontation at lunch and Sophie shouts at him that Agatha tricked him, too, lest he forget. He already knows this, but walks away anyway to be with Agatha.

They have some angsty-fluff moments with Tedros asking if she's afraid of him, which she claims she isn't because, no offense to him, he's all bark and no bite with her. He admits to knowing she'd tried using him, but also admits he's glad she gave up on that because it wouldn't have been a good thing if he'd figured it out and she lied to him.

During the bridge encounter, Sophie claims Agatha is the Evil one, and that Agatha is the witch, not her, even going as far as to say she and Tedros are the good ones and deserve an Even After together.

"At least I know I'm evil, you stupid girl."

I should mention Tedros takes a turn for the dark when he is confronted by Ravan, Vex, and other Never boys and dragged into a bathroom, so they can beat the crap out of him for all the stuff he's pulled.

Having been in Good for about a month, he's immediately overwhelmed by all the evils surrounding the students, even a few of Sophie's, which reveal her attacks and intentions for the schools.

Ravan goes to get a hit in with a weapon of some kind, but Tedros grabs it and stands up, angrier than ever before.

Anadil is unfortunate enough to see Tedros leave the boy's room with some blood on his face, but uninjured. He glares at her and walks away without talking.

She finds all the boys unconscious with scratches and slashes on their faces and bodies. The weapon Ravan had is now broken, having been used against them to the extreme.

Come the circus of talents, when Agatha comes in pretty as a picture, Tedros warns her not the stop him, and thanks her for being nice to him.

She sees why when she and a witchy Sophie go toe to toe.

Too bad Tedros attacks Sophie before they can start actually do anything.

I should mention that, as a sort of update on his talent, Tedros can USE these evils to his advantage and can force them into visibility, which is exactly what he does.

He shows all the students what they are on the inside, revealing the monsters he's scene since day 1 of arriving at school.

After a HUGE fight breaks out between Tedros, who is consumed and corrupted by the evils he's seen, letting them take over, and Sophie, who just gave up on being good like before.

Sophie attempts to kill Agatha, but she's caught by Tedros, who's grown shadow-esque wings and looks like some sort of demon dragon.

As he holds her, the two flying maybe eight feet off the ground, he admits he may have gone overboard and apologizes to her for almost dying.

He then reveals he knows about Sophie's plan to not only give the Nevers a ball, but also destroy all of Good and steal the Storian.

"What are you going to do?"

Tedros smiles. "Being a prince. I don't like Beatrix or a lot of other people in Good, but I like you all enough to know I don't want Sophie to end your stories."

"What do you mean? What're you-"

He sort of lands on the ground and lets Agatha stand, resting his forehead against hers. "Agatha, thank you for being in Good."

"You say that like I had a choice."

"No one ever said you had to be my friend, but you did, anyway."

He kisses her on the cheek and takes her to her dorm, which he locked from the outside, in the door, before taking off towards Evil, telling her to not stop him.

She gets to Evil by turning into a cheetah and, like before, tries to crash the No Ball to save everyone.

EVERYONE only believes her ehen Tedros arrives and attacks everyone, using the evils to his advantage.

When Sophie and Agatha are magiced away to Gavaldon, he only stands, emotionally empty as they vanish.

He's locked himself into his room and is sitting with his knees up and with his head resting against his knees.

Hates Aric.

Sleeps and stays in the Doom Room to avoid him, and the other boys because they won't shut up.

Does step up to be the leader of the boys, but does not order any kind of attack on the girls.

When the boys start getting rowdy, courtesy of one of the Everboys, said Everboy gets in Tedros's face when he confronts him. Aric backs up the Ever, and Tedros says nothing as he rams his fist into the Ever's stomach and swings an insanely hard punch into his jaw, which knocks him out instantly. The whole room is quiet as he basically demotes Aric as captain and gives the position to Chaddick; Aric is now responsible for disciplining anyone that steps out of line, which is nice enough, but he'd rather have the power to choose who gets the whip. With a low, "I want this entire castle spotless. You have the rest of the night and the weekend to do it," Tedros leaves, Chaddick following when Tedros asks him to very warmly, despite the scene that just unfolded.

When boys start refusing, Tedros hands them over to Aric, telling him that he can use any method he wants just as long as the boys are still alive.

No one refuses an order after an Ever and a Never leave boisterously shouting they're not afraid of a sewer rat like Aric and return quiet, pale, and injured from getting tortured.

Surprisingly, Tedros is the most collected with Tristan, almost returning to his Book 1 self, except more chatty. Tedros notes how Tristan smells a little different and that the redhead's been distant. Tristan denies it, spawning an evil for lying that Tedros sees.

He tells Tristan to keep his distance, and that he was one of the Everboys that was really nice to him; it's a small thing, but it means the world to him.

When Agatha and Sophie arrive, Tedros has locked himslef in his room. The boys are whipped into shape and don't really step out of line, all except Aric, but he tells the two strongest boys to keep Aric on a leesh if they have to.

Cue a lovely Tagatha reunion where the real Tedros comes back for a little bit.

She tells him about what the School for Girls are saying about him, even talking about how he rules over the boys with an iron fist, but Tedros states that if the boys wanted a different leader, they should've picked someone else to step up.

He tells her he won't hurt her, if they have to fight, but he will tear Sophie apart, so she'd better keep Sophie safe, if she cares so much about her.

Agatha leaves, apologizing for the fact that she might still love him. Tedros apologizes to her for the same reason.

Turns out the boys don't need to pick a new leader because the male teachers do it for them, and lock Tedros in the Doom Room.

He doesn't mind the other boys ignoring him. He doesn't mind the fact that he's not allowed to eat even when he tells the truth. He doesn't mind Aric being a dick or Tristan disappearing into thin air.

He minds greatly when he meets Filip, who has Sophie's evils and makes the mistake of trying to befriend him.

Just to put a target on his back, Tedros allows Filip to win. He wants alone time too, because he's been thinking about Agatha a lot.

Turns out not ALL the boys hate him, because Chaddick tries sneaking him food.

Tedros refuses and asks to be left alone.

A few days later, Filip finds Tedros lying on the ground, passed out and weak from not being fed. He wakes him up and tries to get him to have some lamb, but Tedros kicks Filip away

"Stop whatever game you're playing! I know it's you, Sophie!"

Filip blanches as he stands, flustered. "I... W-Who's Sophie? I'm Filip. Remember?"

Tedros glares up at him and scoffs. "You think I can't tell when you're lying? That I don't know when someone's trying to trick me!? Unless you're here to torture me or rub it in my face that I messed up and you have everything, go away and don't ever talk to me again, you witch!"

Filip(Sophie) is gutted by this, stunned as Tedros adds in a, "Speak of the Devil," as Aric strides in, armed with a whip.

Aric makes Filip leave and gets a few lashes on Tedros as he shouts that the prince is weak, a fool, and useless to eveyone, adding emphasis on weak if he can't even rely on his princess to save him.

When Aric's done with him and leaves, Tedros forces himself to his feet and unpockets a key he snagged off "Filip" when he kicked him.

He gets out and looks for Sophie, who's partnered with Hort for the trial by tale.

He finds Yara instead, heavily injured and dying as he rushes over to her side.

"I tried," she sobs. "I-I tried to get here sooner... and warn you, but he... he came out and-"

Tedros takes her hand, too upset to be angry. "Why, Tristan? Why be with the girls? I would've helped you!"

Tristan, Yara, holds his hand tightly and smiles. "You should've seen it. It was so pretty. And the girls were wearing blue for once."

Even though he has tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks, Tedros can only smile and shake his head. "You're a bloody fool."

"So... So're you."

Tristan apologizes for hiding the Storian away from Tedros, and thanks him for being possibly the only boy in the school for boys that was really nice to him, even though he defected to the girl's shool, in the end. With one last smile, Tristan dies, Tedros setting him down and backing away before shouting and releasing a sort of shadow-y energy, sonic boom that flattens a bunch of trees. He screams, he cries, and he basically mourns the fact that he lost someone he genuinely cared about and saw as a friend, maybe even a brother.

Even though he's weaker than before, tired, emotionally drained, and barely able to stand, Tedros still finds Filip, who's revealed to be Sophie, and, too tired for words, smirks as she tries to explain herself to a very hurt Hort, who she picked as her partner.

"Look who's putting her lessons to good use."

She turns on Tedros and shouts she always tried to help him, even when it would result in a punishment, and where he got worse she got better.

Tedros snickers and asks why she manipulated Agatha and lied to the boys, even Hort, who's her friend. On skaky legs and with unfocused eyes, Tedros murmurs, "You can take the witch out of Evil, but there's no taking the evil out of a witch. No wonder Agatha hates us both."

Just as he falls, Agatha races out of the trees and catches him, apologizing that she hadn't been the one to take the potion and help him and admitting she never hated him. She actually never stopped loving him and believes that he isn't so evil he can't be loved by her.

Tedros asks how she knows, considering the events prior, and Agatha shakes her head; if he was truly as evil as he thinks, she would be dead, her and Sophie both, and both schools would've been destroyed. He can think all he wants that he hates both schools and everyone inside them, and that he's an evil force of destruction that will never sit a throne, but Agatha knows the truth:

He loved going to both schools. He loved being around people, more specifically people who showed him the most minimal shred of kindness, regardless of whether or not it was genuine or out of obligation. He loved being the only one up at night and enjoying the silence of both schools, loved pulling pranks that were harmless, save for causing gray hairs. He loved being friends with Chaddick and Tristan, who took him in and showed him how great it was to even have friends. He loved the lessons in good and the trips between both schools.

Most of all, she knows he loves her, even though she tried tricking him into falling in love with Sophie so they could leave.

Tedros can't help but cry and not seeing any evils grow from Agatha, knowing everything she said was true and that he's an idiot for needing it spelled out for him.

They kiss, ending the conflict between boys and girls, and getting their Happily Ever After. Hort does a good friend move and looks away to give them some kind of privacy, but Sophie is frozen, realizing that regardless of whether she's good or evil, she's not getting Tedros. His heart belongs to Agatha, who feels the same way.

When Evelyn Sader appears with the Storian, bringing back Rafal and dying in the process, Tedros still tries to fight him.

He gets his ass handed to him, and gets that gash in the original story.

When they're sent to Gavaldon and found by Callis, who tends to Tedros, Agatha guves her the run-down, including the fact that Tedros is indeed a Never and the Prince of Camelot.

Callis sighs at this and admits he's good at being still for her, considering how he was so fitful while unconscious. Agatha then admits he sleep walks.

With that in mind, they check and find him awake and staring at Callis, holding a hand out to her as Agatha shakily introductions them.

They trade introductions, Callis at least because Tedros is back to being quiet, and Callis returns to patching him up.

Tedros is quiet as she finishes up, though only breaks his silence with this:

"You're so lucky to have such an amazing daughter."

Sorry this took sonlong to work on. I'm trying to sort of clear the clutter in my Drafts so I can work on more new stuff. This was really fanfic-y, too and I deeply apologize for that😅

Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this!

[princessofprocrastination]

Incapable Of Love (Corpse Husband)

MASTERLIST

summary : corpse hasn’t been in a relationship for a while. he thought he was ready when he met you, but now he’s not so sure anymore. (a dash of sykkuno)(angst)

a/n : dude i spent three whole days writing this and maybe i went too far, it’s so long. anyways, enjoy. this might not be the only part, please tell me if you want a continuation and tell me who you want yourself to end up with. 

warning : a very long story, and a whole lot of heartbreak. 

you were semi wild in highschool. no, you weren’t a party goer, you didn’t even start drinking till you reached twenty-one, but you didn’t have a hard time finding a boyfriend. although you never ha a hard time moving on, you are still a virgin, and you are proud to say that. 

your mother always told you to have fun while you were young, and never to feel deprived of the little things like going to clubs, this way, you would settle down and never feel the need to go back to the party phase ever again when you’re married and have kids. 

truth be told, you never thought about wanting kids. while every one of your friends spoke about their dream lives with kids, you never saw yourself with a child. 

you never took dating in highschool seriously. no one does. you did it to have fun. this was because you were in a very abusive relationship early on your teenage days. 

you were too young and naive to say anything when your then boyfriend would hit you, since he was much older than you, which was completely legal as you two weren’t doing anything sexual. 

it started small, just loud screaming or he would get in front of your face. then, he would scream at you while holding your face in one of his hands tightly, which would leave red finger marks all over your cheeks. it didn’t take long till he fully hit you, grabbing your hair and banging it on the wood table. 

it took you almost risking your life for your friends to find out what was happening and reporting him to the police. 

the amount of head injury you took caused a lot of trauma, but you still pushed through and didn’t let it get to you. your friends often called you a ray of sunshine although you dress the opposite. 

you would call yourself lucky. lucky that you found happiness in your job, that you weren’t stuck on a boring desk job. you were lucky to have started youtube. 

your friends would tell you that you deserved the success and fame that youtube had brought you, to keep going and not to let your actual supporters down whenever the hate would come up.

then, quarantine started. which somehow made your channel grow even bigger. also, this meant that you had time to just do better in creating content. 

one of your subscribers had commented about someone by the name of “corpse husband”. 

you had never heard of this name before, which made you more curious, but you never looked into it. 

corinna kopf, had brought you into the idea of streaming in your free time. and since you grew up playing minecraft, you started streaming your minecraft gameplays. 

soon enough, you made new friends and was invited to play among us, a really popular game during quarantine. 

there is where you found out who corpse husband actually is. 

streaming, you joined the discord call. your facecam directly showing your face and your background being your newly cleaned bedroom. 

“this is y/n, she makes one hell of an imposter,” corinna says to the rest of the people in the discord call. 

you blushed, not expecting the attention when you just joined in. 

felix, who goes by the name pewdipie introduces the rest of them to you. 

“and corpse is here too, his name had been popping a lot up in your comment section.” felix said to you. 

“actually, i was about to ask about that.” you replied. confused on why the rest of them were teasing you too. 

“let’s just say, a certain deep voice man had been simping for you recently.” valkyrae told you. 

“awh, that’s sweet, i’ve never had anyone simped for me before.” i said, smiling t myself. 

it took approximately three seconds for your stream comments to be filled with “i simped for you way before he did.” or “i simped since you started your channel” 

you laughed, you were expecting this. 

“okay, i’m guilty of that.” the man itself said. 

that was how your friendship started, which soon continued into a relationship. 

you weren’t even sure how you were capable of finding such a man. he takes good care of you, making sure you ate your medicine at the right time. to which you would remind him to take his, too. 

he’s a respectful man, always making sure he didn’t accidentally go above your boundaries. 

before the both of you were official, you made sure he knew about your past trauma, that’s you were sensitive to a lot of noises. screaming, glasses breaking, even the sound of people clapping. 

months go by and you both are going strong. you are usually at his house more than you are at your own. today was no exception. 

you came back to corpse’ place after filming a video with another fellow youtuber. you didn’t have the best of days. the person you were collaborating with turned out to be a pretty creepy person. 

he kept on asking you about personal thing like your sex life, although you’ve told him many times that you weren’t comfortable with talking about that. 

behind the scenes too, he would try to come up to you and grab your waist. you left his house in anger and rush. 

you left corpse’ apartment before sunrise and came back early enough for dinner. 

you knew that he would be streaming today, and since he usually streams late, you weren’t rushing to make dinner. 

you always had an issue with getting him to eat, but since you both are still in the “honeymoon period” of your relationship, it had still been tolerable. 

you put your bags down on the couch as you start to make dinner, not going to shower in case corpse hasn’t ate anything today. you felt bad for leaving him alone for a long period of time. 

you finished cooking and quickly cleaned up, making sure all the dishes are clean before you call on corpse to eat. 

you stood in front of his steaming room, bracing yourself before asking him to eat. although he is a puppy inside and was only intimidating because of his voice, you couldn’t help but feel scared at times. it was your habit. 

you knocked on the door softly twice, making sure you weren’t interrupting anything. 

you didn’t hear anything from inside the room. you knocked a little louder since you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you. 

you heard some clicking of keyboard keys. you assumed that he couldn’t hear you so you slowly opened the room door, making sure his stream couldn’t hear you just in case he was unmuted. 

although you two have been together for almost a year, he had told you that he wasn’t ready for the public to know, not even your mutual friends. that did make you a little hurt but you brushed it off since you knew it was going to be worth it. 

anything with him was worth it. 

“hey.” you started, making sure not to startle him. 

he put his hand up for you to see. you stopped in the middle of the room, scared that you messed something up. 

corpse clicks one of his keyboards. he turns to you slightly, but not looking into your eyes. you found this a little weird but you pushed the thought at the back of your head. 

“bub i made dinner, let’s eat.” you said to him. 

“not hungry.” he replies. 

you sighed. you knew this was going to happen. 

“you always say this, but you need to eat.” you almost whined at him, practically begging him to eat. 

“‘said i’m not hungry.” he replied to you again. 

“even just a little, please eat.” you tried again.

“JUST STOP, I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU. I TOLD YOU I’M NOT HUNGRY.” corpse screams, while his left hand banged on his gaming table loudly. 

you flinched, and slightly moved back. this brought you flashbacks to your highschool relationship. 

“i’m sorry.” you said, voice soft that you weren’t even sure he could hear.

you left the room in a rush but still tried to get out quietly. 

you could hear corpse continuing his steam. tears were now going down your cheeks as you walked in your shared bedroom. 

you sat on the bed, with your legs folded to your chest as you have a mild panic attack. 

soon, after almost an hour or two of just crying, you knew your anxiety wouldn’t calm unless you slept, not knowing what to do without someone else helping you calm down. 

you laid in bed, tucking your legs into the duvet, almost cuddling into yourself. you felt extra drained with all the things that happened earlier. you soon fell asleep, crying. 

you don’t often struggle with sleep, but when you do, it’s usually hard to take care of. these were one of those days. 

you woke up only a couple of hours later, not even making it into the AM.

you sat on the bed, rethinking about what happened. although you were very tired and in need of sleep, your brain worked perfectly fine after that screaming fest.

you got up and stood in front of corpse’ streaming room, trying to listen in whatever is happening inside. 

“i just need a little break for her, that’s all, i didn’t mean to lash out.” you heard him say. 

he’s probably on the phone with someone. 

“i don’t even think i want this relationship anymore. it’s just so hard, she has her problems too, i can’t handle mine and hers.” he continues. 

you ceased all your movements. you were thinking of talking it out but now you weren’t so sure he even wanted that. 

it took you approximately three seconds to think through what you should do. 

you weren’t one to make rash decisions but you knew for sure that you just had to leave. for good. 

you walked back into your shared bedroom and carefully and quietly packed all your things, making sure to not leave anything behind. lucky for you, you both hadn’t moved in together, you just spent your time here, more than your own apartment. 

you quietly walked to the front door of his apartment, grabbing your car keys. you stood in front of the door, sighing. 

this was it. 

finally, you left his apartment. 

-

CORPSE’S POV 

“- handle mine and hers.” i said. 

“you can’t say that, you know you appreciate her, she’s been there for you through all the major things, don’t be stupid over a small comment someone made about you guys.” sean, who i was on the phone with, told me. 

i sighed. 

“i know, but it just really messed my head up, you know.” i said to him. 

“i get it, but don’t put the blame on her. it’s already bad that you lashed out on her after she made food for you.” sean said. 

food. i’m kinda hungry now. 

the conversation lasted for a couple more minutes before i told him i was hungry and needed to eat. 

i walked out the streaming room, out to a weirdly cold living room. i brushed it off since it happens sometimes. maybe the heater broke. 

it was oddly quiet in the apartment, so i assumed she fell asleep. 

i walked into the kitchen to see two plates of food still sitting there, definitely untouched. 

i glance at the place she usually hangs her keys. 

it was gone. her shoes, gone. 

i walk in the bedroom and open all the cabinets where her clothes are usually in. they’re gone.

shit. 

-

YOUR POV

although it’s been a couple months since the whole “argument”, it never got better. 

but you’ve always been a tough cookie, not showing other people your feelings. you had always been good at that. 

valkyrae, one of your bestfriends, had made sure you were okay, knowing what went down. 

she visited you often, making sure you were okay.

remember the same day the argument happened, you met up with a creepy youtuber for a collab? yeah, well, he went on social media to call you some derogatory words. 

he even made a video saying you promised him sexual things after filming, which you couldn’t even believe came out of his mouth. 

lucky for you, your supporters never ceased to amaze you. they knew you were not that type of person, and even made sure his platform was taken away from him. 

that whole scandal wasn’t taking up your brain but corpse did. it seemed like he didn’t care at all. as if he was just waiting for the day you left his place for your own. 

that took a while to get over, and you were sure that you aren’t 100% over it, hence why rae has been helping you all along. 

only a couple weeks since the argument, you felt like you couldn’t stay in your apartment any longer. there was just too many memories of him in there. 

again, you knew you were lucky in the sense that you had the financials to move. 

this time, you moved to a house, since you needed a bigger space and you felt bad that every time your friends came over, they had to bunk in a small space you called your apartment.

rae and yourself got somehow super close with a lot of the offlinetv members. sykkuno, being one of them somehow clicked with you instantly after meeting. 

he and rae helped you move your things from your apartment to your house. 

it felt good saying that. house. not an apartment. not a place you pay rent anymore. 

you tried to get over the corpse thing, but deep down you knew your love for him would never disappear. he was one of a kind. and although he says he has many problems, you found that special about him. 

but what do you know. you can’t say much when feelings aren’t reciprocated. you understood that you were a handful but why did it have to hurt this bad. 

“hey, stop thinking about him.” sykkuno says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“who?” you asked, acting dumb.

“you know who, it doesn’t take a genius to know.” he answers you. 

dang it, he caught it. 

you looked at sykkuno. you couldn’t help but think about it at times. although you’ve settled in your new place for a while now, no more memories of him, you just couldn’t help it. 

“come here.” sykkuno says, opening his arms out, reaching out to me. 

you went to his side on the couch, engulfed in his arms. he understood you. that’s what you loved about your friends. they all understood you. 

too busy cuddling up to sykkuno, you hadn’t heard a shutter of a camera from behind you. 

valkyrae giggled silently, glad she got a photo of you two. 

she posted it on her story, captioning it, “so proud of this girl right here for being so strong. also, aren’t these two so cute.” 

you didn’t see the photo until after dinner, once all of you are on the couch, watching the voice. 

“rae, what did you do?” you asked her when you saw your twitter blow up. 

“i have no clue what you’re talking about.” she tells me, acting innocent. 

i clicked on one of the photos on twitter that had been circulating. the moment i clicked on it, i saw a very familiar pair. sykkuno and i. 

“very funny, rae.” i laughed along with her, showing sykkuno what i just saw. 

you didn’t think much of it since you two are just friends but since you saw the amount of ‘ships’, you decided to post something on your instagram 

“guys, come here, let’s take a photo.” you told them two.

you quickly snapped a photo. you made sure none of you look too crazy in the photo. 

you posted the photo on your instagram and wrote “three friends, hanging out. they might kiss. they might :)” 

you showed rae and sykkuno before you posted it. 

sykkuno laughed before opening twitter and tweeting “they might kiss, they might.” 

you saw his tweet from over his shoulder. you high-fived him for going with the joke. 

obviously you two aren’t dating. if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t completely over corpse. you have admitted it to your two friends once in a confession night during a sleepover. 

but you couldn’t lie that you had a very very small crush on sykkuno once. like come on, he’s just so wholesome and sweet, you couldn’t help yourself. 

you were proud to say it too, he was your crush and he knew that. he is very proud to say that too. 

since the breakup, you’ve had a pretty good life.

yes, you moved in a house that you had already fully paid for but other than that, you proud to say you got a new car, amazing house renovations, made a lot more new friends who support you endlessly and you even got a cat as a companion to fill the void you have for staying at such a big house. 

-

CORPSE’S POV 

i’ve been miserable ever since. i see her everywhere on the internet. 

i know she has been better off without me. only an idiot couldn’t tell that. she made a lot of new friends, got a house, got a new car. 

i’ve seen them all. vogue interviewed her. and apparently she can sing too and she’s been singing in a lot of shows. 

it’s getting harder and harder to get her out of my head. 

why was i that stupid. stupid enough to think i was better off without her. 

now when i look at myself in the mirror i feel pathetic. dishes were left piling up in the kitchen, the beds are always unmade. 

i took her for granted. 

FLASHBACK 

shit. 

did she leave? 

a part of me says that this was the easy way to let her go. letting her go without actually letting go. 

i had been dreading to talk to her. but another part of me thinks i should go to her apartment and find her. discuss it with her. 

without realizing, tears rush down my cheeks. 

i wipe it quickly, not understanding my own feelings. why was i crying when i was the one who had wanted this in the first place? 

-

NOW

i regret the time i didn’t rush to find her. i didn’t know what i was thinking. why would i make such a rash decision like then when i knew damn well how well she treated me. 

why did i have to be such an ass?

i called sean that day. he scolded me for being so stupid. i agreed, but i still didn’t make an effort to find her. 

now that she lives somewhere else, i’m regretting it. i can’t ask rae or sykkuno, knowing that i’d just get scolded yet again. they are her bestfriends afterall. 

even since rae posted the pic of you and sykkuno in your living room, i felt jealous. but i had no right, not anymore. 

then i saw your instagram story, then sykkuno’s tweet. have you moved on already? 

was i too late?

you are happy now that i’m not. you are happy doing your own things, thriving and here i was, sitting on my bed, crying. 

i remember not even a day after she left, there was a huge scandal which included her in it. i was heartbroken and stupid, not knowing what to do with the fact that she left that i believed that stupid youtuber. 

sean called me an idiot, stupid enough to believe that she would do that to me when i damn well knew that she wasn’t that type of person. 

 i felt stupid now that i took her for granted, that i lost the chance to get her back into my arms. 

but she’s happy now. and that’s all that matters. even if it’s in another guys’ arms. 

PART 2

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Artist and Her Deadly Muse

One Shot Mini Series: Natasha Romanoff x  Fisk Reader. 

Word Count: 3000 approx 

A/n: I have WIP for Wanda and reader its taking more time than I thought, but for now this. I kind of got little carried away with this I hope you guys like it. There will be a second part. See you soon! 

Part 2

New York, your home… Your safe haven. You're sitting on the subway when you see her. You’ve always liked New York for this very reason there are people everywhere. Your hands are fidgeting, anxious to begin their work. There is just something about her the way she handles herself, how her head is steady on her shoulders, no apparent worry crossing her mind. Your hand begins to move on the paper making her rough outline. Your eyes shift between her and your book for a couple of stops. 

Stepping out of the subway and taking that first breath of fresh air… It was just like the first time. There was something about walking through masses of people every day, knowing that you will pass them again and again, and they won't even notice. However, you do notice and you pride yourself in that. Three years living in this marvelous city and it has not ceased to amaze you. You have New York down to a “T”. That's not to say that it was all good, you were detail oriented almost to a pathological degree. Which is why you noticed her and her marvelous red hair. Also the small fact that she was definitely following you. 

You weave through crowds, take unexpected turns, yet still you see her keeping her distance. It was almost funny how she's not noticed that you were leading her on a wild goose chase. You duck into your favorite sandwich shop, and take a seat. You can't help, but feel a little disappointed at the fact that she didn't bother to follow you in. You take your time, catching your breath. When you feel safe you decide to walk out the back door. Suddenly you’re being pinned against a wall, by a very familiar redhead. 

“I usually don't do this before the third date.” You quip a smirk on your face. “Although looking at you now, I might make an exception.” She doesn't seem to like your compliments as she snatched your satchel. “Who do you work for?” she asked impatiently, pressing you harder against the wall. “I’d have to ask you the same question, because I swear if my father sent you…” The confusion written on her face makes you stop your rant. “And you don’t work for my… father” You emphasize the last part. Regretting having opened your mouth.  

You clear your throat and shift your view to her hold on your arms raising your brow. She lets go a little embarrassed. “So… What's up with the staring?” She asks confused. “Well, It's simple really. You stick out like a sore thumb.” You say chuckling at the slightly offended look she flashes you with. You take your satchel back and look through it to make sure everything is good. “Care to explain?” she asked with an amused look in her eyes. You narrow your eyes and she continues. “Your sore thumb statement… What's your evidence.” You shift off the wall, and clean yourself off. “Well, to your credit most people don't pay attention… but I’m not most people.” 

You take your sketchbook out of your satchel and flip to her page showing it to her. “I’ve never seen you around… If I had I’d remember.” You say walking away, and her smile makes your stomach flip. Natasha made her way back to the compound where the team was waiting for her. “What took you so long?” Asked Tony as soon as he saw her walk through the elevator doors. “I took the Subway” Is all she says too preoccupied to notice Tony grimace and the sheer look of disgust in his face. She hears him mutter something about disinfecting everything she touches… She's not completely listening, still thinking about you.  

“Now where have you gone off to Romanoff.” Tony asks teasingly as he waves his hand in her face, which she promptly swats away. “I met an interesting character on the Subway.” She states, still faraway. Tony hums. “I’m sure you did, you’ll always find some interesting characters on the subways.” She shakes her head and agrees. It had been mere hours after meeting you and she could tell she was hooked. The next day she went to the same subway in hopes of finding you but no such luck. She didn't give up though she showed up every day for weeks... She was on the verge of giving up when she saw you. Getting off an armored black car your head bowed as you made your way to an apartment building nearby. For someone you had clocked her… you were incredibly off your game.  You didn't even turn when she walked into the building after you.

“Let me guess you’re about to ask me to paint you like one of my French girls.” You say not bothering to look back a smirk on your face as you turn to face that redhead. You chuckle at her baffled face as you turn around. “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?” She asks, it’s her turn to bask in your reaction. Your laugh fills the room making her laugh with you. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this… I don't even know your name” You point out making her clear her throat just as she's about to say her name you interrupt her. “Let me guess… Patricia?”  She shakes her head in denial stifling a laugh. “Natalie Rushman” You nod. “Yeah that was going to be my next guess.” You play it off making her laugh. “My name is Y/n Fisk it's nice to officially meet you Natalie.” You say as you give her your hand to shake. “Would you like to come upstairs.” You ask politely and she hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You make your way up to your apartment which is a complete understatement. “Well you seem awfully humble for this place.” She states. 

“And for that matter it’s twice now that you’ve clocked me how?” You sigh putting your keys down on the table. “Yes, well my father always had a way of showing me he cared.” She nods intrigued. “My turn… Why were you looking for me?” You were direct and firm, yet not confrontational. “Well you made an impression Y/n.” You hum pouring her and yourself a glass of wine. You take the first sip and she follows shortly after. “I wanted to see how that sketch turned out Y/n… you know because you used my likeness and all. Want to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands.” She says smirking, but there's a seriousness in her voice. And you nod. “Well you'd be relieved to know that the artist is out of commission till further notice.” 

This takes Natalie by surprise, you see it in her eyes she wants to ask why but can't bring herself to actually do it so you tell her. “Another gift from my father… the family company. That is currently on the brink of financial devastation.” You say as you finish off the rest of your wine in one gulp, pouring yourself another glass you offer Natalie one as well. “So no more art and sitting on the subway for hours on end.” You chuckle humorlessly. “When you put it like that…” You try to make light of the situation, but fail. “No more art… No more sitting on the subway for hours on end… No more doing what I love.” Your thoughts racing, almost forgetting you're in a room with an otherwise complete stranger. You clear your throat stopping your train of thought and continue. “This is actually my last night here, I'm moving.” You lift your gaze to meet hers and it’s consuming. The way that her eyes are looking at yours, how she can see right through you. She starts moving closer to you and you let out a deep breath. 

When you don't step away or break eye contact she continues making her way towards you. Her hands move to your face, and she slowly closes in interlocking your lips. You deepen the kiss holding on to her hips and moving her closer to you. Your hands brush the hem of her shirt. She bites your bottom lip asking for entrance and you grant it. A fight for dominance ensues, you almost give in but she beat you to it letting you take control. Your night goes by in her arms exploring her skin, etching every detail in your mind, remembering every spot that makes her knees go weak. When you wake up your bed is empty, and you want to be disappointed but you can't. You can't drag someone into the shit show that is your family. So true to your word you were gone by lunchtime. 

It had been months and it just kept getting worse. You found out why the financial situation had become so dire. Your father all but drained the company of all its funds… You always knew that your father was a questionable man but this was low even for him. Disparaging your mothers name your name. You learned not to be offended though he trusted you enough to get out of this mess. Your mother brought out the best in him, but in the end the worst ended up prevailing. You worked, and worked threw yourself into the obligation that was tossed your way. “Miss Fisk you have Forbes on the line and Pepper Potts on another.” You nod. It had been a year and a half and you thrived. You haven't heard from your father in all that time. You had Manhattan wrapped around your finger, and everyone knew it, like your father you were ruthless to those you betrayed you, Once someone was burned by you no one dared talk about them, much less in your precedence.  

You look and wonder where that bright eyed hopeful person you were went. Then you remember all the people you put your trust in and all the people that tried to kick you when you were down. Forbes was something that represented the end of you, whatever was left of that person you were not too long ago. “Y/n Fisk, to what do I owe the pleasure Ms. Potts?” You were surprised when she called. You thought Stark Industries would want to stay away from a name like yours. “No, need for the formalities Y/n. I’m exploring a business venture that might help us both out.” She goes on to explain her plan and you say you’d think about it, in turn she invites you to a Stark Function this weekend… “Well Pepper I look forward to meeting you and discussing this business venture further.” You put the phone down into the receiver and can't help the small smile that grows on your face. As much as you hated the obligation you couldn't deny the pride that you felt, or how you felt thinking of how proud your mother would be… It almost makes it all worth it.   

It's another one of Tony's parties that she is forced to go to, Natasha Is at the bar serving drinks when she sees you. Or someone who held an uncanny resemblance, something was different, your posture no longer relaxed, now effortlessly poised and business like. The sparkle in your eyes was the same, but everything else was fundamentally different. She witnessed Pepper walk up to you, and how your face instantly lightened. Pepper had shared a couple of words with you and took you to speak with Tony. Natasha's eyes widen slightly as she notices Pepper making her way straight to her. “How’d I do?” She asks Natasha with a smile growing on her face. “What do you mean?” She asks confused. “Well, the new mission haven't you been briefed?” She shakes her head. “No, I just got back from one abroad. What is this mission about?” She nodded understandingly. “That's Y/n Fisk Daughter of Wilson Grant Fisk… Kingpin.”

Natasha's eyes widened, she can't believe she didn't put it together sooner. “So she’s following in her Father's footsteps?” Natasha asks carefully. Pepper continues. “Well, we’ve been keeping tabs since a year and a half ago, after Fisk Industries suddenly went into the red.” Natasha quirks her head. “Wilson syphoned all the money and took off. Y/n is ruthless when it comes to business, it's a miracle she saved the company.” Pepper stops and looks at Natasha's still confused face. “What exactly is she doing here though.” Pepper takes a moment before she answers. “We’re recruiting her… using her to get to her Father.”  Natasha can't help, but shake her head. “How do you know she’s willing to work against her father… They are family at the end of the day. Blood is thicker than water.”  She says as she sees You and Tony walk off into a more secluded part of the compound.

After an hour maybe more she spots you again. This time the light is completely gone in your eyes. It was truly an off putting sight, no apparent emotion ran through your expressions. Your movements were cold, and calculated an opportune smile on your face when someone walked up to you. The desire to get out of there was apparent. She took her eyes off you all of two minutes, and by then you'd made it to the elevator door standing next to a rather old man, whose talking business. She watches you as you wave the older man away with a smile plastered on your face, handing him your card, and just like that you’re gone.

The drive back to Manhattan was a quiet one, full of reflection and contemplation. By the time you make it back to your Penthouse you’re ready to just go to bed. As soon as you walked in you knew something was off. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n '' It didn't even phase you, your back still turned on him you made yourself a drink and drank it. Finally turning you meet your fathers gaze. “Father, I would say it's good to see you, but that would be a lie. You know how mom felt about lying.” You were testing him and he knew it. “What do you want?” You reiterate and make your annoyance known. “You need to stay away from Stark Industries Y/n, It's for your own good.” You sigh rubbing your temples. “Why would I back down from the business deal of my life? What do you know?” He’s quiet, his eyes boring holes into yours, testing your resilience. “You left me with the mess that was My mothers company in shambles… you don't get a voice in what I do with the company.” 

“You’re not going to like what's going to happen if you don't back down Y/n. The board…” You laugh at his attempt at a threat. “Well, haven't you heard… Those usurpers paid for their wrongs. They tried to take your precious company from me.” You chuckle at his obliviousness. “I have the power here… So I suggest you start talking.” 

(4 Hours Ago)   

“Y/n, I see no need to continue this charade. I Don't think you’re a bad person.” This is where Tony starts off which sets the tone foe the rest of the conversation. “Well, I’ve been around long enough to know when someone wants something from me. So what does Tony Stark need from me?” You say as your eyes close in on him. “It’s not really what I need. It's more of a ‘are you willing to’ corporate.” He then proceeds to show you this presentation very well made if you might add. Of things you already knew about your father, but your question was, How did he know? “Right… So you want me as bait?” You say finally leaving with him. “Well, in a way yes. You won't be in immediate danger, your father won't hurt you.” You chuckle. “You underestimate him.” You say. “He left me to clean up after his mess. Hasn’t checked in once, since then. Why would he now?” 

“Lets just say word has spread about our little business venture.” He states. “So this... you are informing me that  I’m bait.”  He nods. “Great glad you caught on… see we couldn't take the risk…” you finish his statement. “Of me saying no.” You nod. “What do you need me to do exactly.”  Tony then goes on a tangent on what you will need to do takes too long for you liking but you sit through it anyways. “So you want me to push his buttons and get him to talk.” He agrees giving more specifics and more details. “Right, well call me when you need me” You say as you stand up and walk away.

 (Current Time) 

“And you did all of this, Why?” You don't even give him the chance to explain himself. “I was never under any pretense that you were a good man, but this… this is vile.”  You could tell your words hurt him. The same words your mother had once uttered before she passed. “Y/n I-i tried to keep you away from all of this.” He tries to defend himself. “Of course by throwing me right in the middle of all of it.” Push buttons you did. “I was once proud to be a Fisk, a name that commanded respect, now I am disgusted and ashamed of this name.” At this point he just kept blaring on about how he tried to fix things, how he just dug himself deeper. Final jab, at this point it wasn't necessary this one was for you. “I hate you for making me hate mom… every time you would promise her an out of this… she believed you, and I hate her for that.” you take a breath and look him dead in the eye. “Because you never deserved her love.”

Before you could even process the hurt on his face, agents stayed bursting through every entrance. Window, doors, balcony, any entrance you could possibly think about blocked and barricaded. You step back from your father, but he’s too quick. He takes our arm and drags you in front of him, using you as a human shield.