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kidvoodoo · 9 days

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Jeest Mafia AU, snippet under the cut 💚💙

Joost tried not to make eye contact with anyone at the airport, though the stares he received at his battered face were inevitable. How many tall, blond, bandaged, bruised and bloody men were in a hurried rush to the terminal? Odds say: not many.

‘Not that I should be thinking about odds right now’ chided his conscience, ‘that’s how I got into this mess in the first place…’

His pace didn’t falter despite the looks from the other passengers lining up in their respective lines. All of them with bags and luggage alike underarm or trailing behind them, his own, suspiciously absent.

No time to pack, clothes on his back, phone, wallet and a little vial of two small white pills. Security checkpoint nearly put an end to those, but a desperate, puppy-eyed look and his disheveled state made the officer roll her eyes and wave him through, for all she knew, or anyone knew, it was aspirin.

‘Fix more than a headache’ his inner thoughts sneered, ‘steady on Joost, for emergencies only’.

He kept his eyes on the gate numbers, briefly glancing at the destinations. Cabo, Shanghai, Johannesburg, each a far flung place he could have potentially laid low in for months, relax on some resort beach or in a high class penthouse…

But that’s not where he’s headed.

He spies the glowing gate number, the destination? Helsinki, Finland. He got the ticket the same day he got the phone call telling him to leave as fast as possible, his usually calm and monotone source had an edge of panic to their voice, Joost trashed the burner after that and shredded the last of his books and burned them. He left his apartment as the ashes were still smoldering.

Finland eh? The only clue of what was happening next was the note in the ticket envelope, hurried scrawling in broken Dutch gave him simple instructions:

Taxi to the airport, pay in cash. Get on the plane. Make sure you are in the camera view the whole time, locate the Air Marshal and watch him. Once you are off the plane, head to the pick up zone in the parking lot and look for the black limo. Tap on the driver’s side window and give the password.

“Here for Tommy’s boy” he mutters under his breath. The magic words that’ll guarantee his safety and freedom, or will land him a bullet between the brows…

Better than the alternative.

He’s on time for the early boarding and hands the Steward his ticket, eyeing the Air Marshal at the doors to the plane’s walkway. He’s given a smile and some well wishes for his flight and finally, for the first time in several days, he feels a little sliver of calm wash over him.

‘Can’t cut me up on the plane you fuckers’

He finds his seat, window view and close to the front of the plane and plops down, the ache in his joints and back starting to flare up since the adrenaline begins to wear off.

Finland…he’s uncertain exactly what is waiting for him there, he regrets not grabbing a translation booklet at the terminal kiosk but there was simply no time. His new phone is IP hidden for the time being till he can get a VPN to bounce his signal, so no using Google’s underwhelming translation system…

He thinks back to a conversation he overheard at a conference last year. The big guys were all there, each of them with a meaty bodyguard in tow and a pistol or two brandished in plain sight.

He was there on happenstance, just finishing up the numbers to hand to his boss for the last fiscal year when his curiosity got the best of him.

“Baltic’s are at it again,” his boss sneers, tapping his cigar onto the floor, “think they’ll hide behind the Nordic cunts so they don’t have to play anymore”.

“Hm.” Another well dressed older man hums in response. He’s the police liaison, a former Captain who’s been working with the mob for 40 years. “Not much to be done about it Albert, the Fins have the advantage now, I hear they’ve even brought Estonia into the fold now.”

Albert snorts, getting to his feet and giving a couple other well-dressed people a farewell wave.

“Cuz of that little shit,” he grumbles, motioning his bodyguard to get a move on. “What’s his name? Kät-something? The Union fucker.”

“Käärijä,” the former Police Captain supplies, “his Union is very bold for an upstart, cutting off the trade in the Baltic’s disrupts everything. Heard he’s in talks of making a deal with the Norwegians as well. That’s the case? Say goodbye to the big money”.

Joost tried to linger as long as possible to catch the last bit of conversation, tucking himself against the wall and listening close.

“Damn idiot, Norway doesn’t play with the new players, even if the young lady is supposedly running things over there now. He’s a fucking lunatic to think the Baltic’s will stay loyal, he’ll be done by the end of the year, mark my words-“

A dinging noise jolts him awake from his daze, the Flight Attendants are doing their safety check. The doors to the plane are closed and for the first time in weeks, months even, Joost’s tense shoulders drop with exhaustion.

He is safe. For now.

<><><>

Roughly three hours later, he startles awake.

The voice over the intercom of the plane cabin announces in several languages that they have arrived at Helsinki Airport and will begin the landing process momentarily.

He spares a glance around the cabin out of paranoia, nothing out of the ordinary and no unwanted eyes in his direction.

Twenty minutes later and he’s heading out of the plane and into the airport terminal. The weather outside is gray and snowy, the sky a mass of colorless clouds and the sun choked somewhere behind. He shivers just looking at the weather, his cheap suit jacket will definitely not suffice.

He heads down the walkways and tried not to get too overwhelmed with the directions, mostly in Finnish but thankfully also in English.

He’s only a hundred feet from the parking lot when he feels eyes on his back. He tries subtly to peak behind and catch if he’s being followed.

Two men, both in dark blue suits and expensive leather shoes, each sporting a grim, intense expression. They have their hands in their pockets.

Joost picks up his pace, eyes focused on the automatic doors that swing open and shut.

He can hear them closing behind him, their shoes loud against the tiles. He starts to jog.

He doesn’t stop to apologize to the people he pushes past to get out of the door, ignoring the scowls and curses thrown his way. His heart is hammering in his chest, he has but a minute to locate the car before he’s dragged off and butchered in a dark corner…

A car horn blares loudly as he flinches and freezes, he had walked right out in front of a pair of high beams, his eyes don’t have time to adjust as he hurriedly runs around to look.

Black limousine, tinted windows with triple thick bulletproof glass and chrome trimming. The driver’s side window rolls down, a bald man with sunglasses and a mustache regards him blankly.

“P-please,” he stammers, eyes catching the two suited men finally breaching the threshold. “I-I’m being followed-“

“What is phrase?” The driver interrupts, not at all phased by the situation in the slightest.

“Th-the wha-oh yes yes, it’s uh…” he swallows takes a breath and speaks the words softly enough for the man to hear him.

“I’m here for Tommy’s boy.”

The door at the back of the limo clicks open, beckoning him inside.

He all but dives into the car and slams the door shut just as the two men make a dash towards the vehicle, only to stop dead in their tracks mere feet away.

Joost doesn’t have the time to take in his surroundings as he sees what has halted his stalkers. In the split second before the limo peels out with a loud screeching of tires, the window on the opposite side is down just enough to see the startled and blanched faces of the two men, who find themselves held in place by a man aiming a 45 caliber handgun at them.

Were it to fire at point blank range, one of the two men would have nearly had his torso blown open. More than a lethal shot, truly overkill at that point.

The car peels out of the lot and before he knows it, Joost is tossed back into he seat as the limo put some speedy distance between him and the danger.

A loud curse and sound of a window being rolled up. Joost finally levels his eyes behind his cracked glasses to see his savior.

Sitting across from him now with the gun held loosely in his grip is a dark haired man with pale skin. He sports a blunted bowl cut and his facial hair is trimmed and tidy. He wears a long black coat with a layered polo necked jumper and a couple silver chains around his neck. The jewelry matches his pierced ears and nose rings, the whole of his attire is expensive and modern looking.

Joost is drawn into the man’s piercing eyes, blue like his own but with an edge of silver steel, made more intimidating and entrancing by the heavy makeup that lines them.

The man is staring at him, Joost’s palms immediately start to sweat.

“I uh,”

“You are the Dutchman we take in?” The man interrupts, his voice has an hint of annoyance, Joost nods politely and holds out his hand to shake.

“Yes, I mean to say, thank you,” he tries to muster a charming smile but finds himself pinned under the man’s gaze like a deer being watched through a hunter’s scope.

“I’m sure this is a bit of trouble for you-“

“Trouble? I say it is bigger trouble for you and not me. You need a drink yes? I have gin and brandy here.” The man all but ignores whatever Joost was trying to say and busies himself with pouring a drink from a side bar containing glasses and some bottles. “Brandy since the gin is warm, I not have a lot of time to get it ready.”

Joost wants to say something, anything to this stranger but finds himself at an utter loss for words. The man looks at him expectantly, pushing the glass of amber liquor into his hands.

“There you drink that, feel better afterwards. You say you looking for Tommy’s boy? That is what he tell you to say? He think he is funny man, he gonna have to explain to me…” the man trails off, eyes now scanning and taking in Joost’s disheveled appearance. “You have injury? I have some bandage here and some other things uh,” the man stops and searches for a word. “you know, doctor supplies?”

“First aid kit?” Joost supplies.

“Ah yes yes! That is it,” the man grins and digs around a bit before huffing in annoyance and opening the little sliding window to the driver’s compartment. He asks for something in Finnish and the bald man replies. Information gathered, he opens a compartment and fishes out a nondescript black case.

“Okei here it is. Let me see your hand, you have blood on your palm.” He does? Joost was in such a mad dash to get away from the goons who had jumped him back in the Netherlands he didn’t have time to take stock of his injuries. He holds out his hand timidly and the man yanks it none too gently to inspect.

“No stitches I think,” he hums, grabbing supplies to clean and patch the gash on Joost’s palm.

The man’s grip is firm and steady, there is warm radiating from beneath the leather gloves he wears.

“You are Mr. Klein eh?” The man says absentmindedly as he cleans the wound. “I hear you screw your boss out two million euros, not bad.” The man smirks, eyes flickering up to Joost’s face. “I like someone who disrupts the status quo. When Tommy say you in trouble, I had to do something about it. Would be a waste for you ending up in concrete.”

Joost cringes a little at the mention of his dilemma, taking a long gulp of his drink and reveling in the burn.

“I don’t know about disruption, I just did what I thought was right is all. Didn’t think it would go this far…” he wishes he could be more proud, he did take a chunk of money from the hands of the worst men in Europe. Now, he’s a marked man, possibly forever.

The dark haired man seems to sense his discomfort and finishes dressing his hand, grabbing a gauze patch and passing it over.

“What is done is done, you think it is bad thing now, but you make a big move, and now you have a big advantage for the war that is coming.”

Joost finishes placing the gauze over the gash on his cheek, looking at the man puzzlingly.

“What war? And what advantage are you talking about?”

The man leans back against his seat and smiles, his sharp canines peak over his lips and his expression is one of amusement and vicious excitement.

“The war between the Union and the Old Men, tear down their ruined kingdom and make our own. The advantage? That’s easy,”

The man chuckles darkly.

“You have Käärijä in your corner now.”

#my art #kidvoodoo #my writing #jeest #jeest infection #käärijä #jere pöyhönen #joost klein #mafia au #so I guess I’m doing this now 🙃#I can’t make any promises on this story I’m afraid #I don’t feel confident in my writing but I’m trying my best lol #also this is fiction it is not real and I don’t wanna hear anything from people like #if you don’t like it don’t read it #it’s a silly little story about some silly guys who will probably kiss and stuff #also Jere’s boyfriend Pokédex will make an appearance plus many more cameos hehe #it will primarily be jeest infection though

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tieronecrush · 1 year

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hot & heavy

chapter five: try to walk away

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8.6k (long but lots to cover)

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir), feeling familial and self-pressure, oral sex (f), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, likely poor spanish grammar, ANGST

a/n: here it is -- the end of summer #1 with joel </3 more to come from these two. and a HUGE thank you to lovely sweet el @northernwindd for the beta read!!! appreciate you v much bb

Sunday morning air filters through the cracked window, the warmth from the sunlight radiating over your exposed skin. Goosebumps rise every few moments from a combination of the oscillating fan in Joel’s room and the way he’s been looking at you since the two of you woke up together this morning. Navy blue sheets drape over your nude body, head resting on the pillow while you lay on your side facing him. Birds chirp loudly to each other outside, melodic background noise to the slow-rise conversations you and Joel keep pulling each other into.

From how you take your coffee to where you saw yourself in five or ten years, there weren’t many topics off-limits in the vulnerable morning after. Joel learned that you take your coffee with enough milk to change the drink to caramelly color, and you learned that Joel takes his black. As for future plans, you both conveniently skate around relationships, focusing more on what you see for your careers. Joel confidently tells you that he wants to build his contracting business to be able to take on a more managerial role and be able to spend more time at home with Sarah, which stretches a smile across your face.

“So you’re telling me I’m out of a summer job in the next five to ten years?”

“‘Fraid so, darlin’. But you won’t need me by then, you’ll be off livin’ lavishly in Boston and making ads that we’ll be seeing on billboards down here.”

The look you’re sharing with Joel tightens your chest, your vision glazing over to fuzz Joel out barely out of focus. You can’t really tell if it’s from the emotion that’s filling your ribcage and squeezing your lungs or if it’s from attempting to keep your eyes open on him to not miss any minute signal of body language from him.

“Maybe so, but that will just gimme an excuse to come down and visit. To see all my billboards.”

He comes back into focus when you blink the moisture away, a crisp image of the crinkles next to his eyes and dimple on display.

“Oh, yeah? That’s the only reason you’d visit? Nothing else bringin’ you back?”

A hum rolls out of your chest as you pretend to think, index finger tapping against your chin. Joel huffs out an exaggerated sigh, cocking a brow as he looks at you expectantly.

“Guess my parents, and my brother if he’s still here. And I would love to see Sarah as a teenager, she’s gonna be so fun.” A smirk coats your words, teasing laced in the words.

Large hands ghost over your bare sides, fingertips moving quick and featherlight in a tickle that draws a loud giggle out of you.

“Quit ticklin’ me!”

“I’ll quit when you stop lyin’ through your teeth.”

“Okay, okay! Ask again, I’ll be honest.” You catch your breath when his hands stop, arms wrapping around your back to pull you closer, inches away from his chest.

“Okay, I know my kid’s the best, but she’s the only reason you’d stop by?”

“I’d come to see you in a heartbeat. Might even be the first stop on any visit I make, but I think you knew that this whole time.”

The shoulder raised toward the ceiling shrugs up and down, a quip of a smirk raising one side of his mouth.

“I had a feelin’, but I like hearing you say it.”

“Mm, anything else you like hearing me say?”

“Think you know the answer to that, darlin’.” A wink follows his answer, his elbow moving under him to prop him up as he leans over you moving onto your back.

“Yes, I do, sir.”

Joel looks away to the side, a chuckle exhaling shortly out of his mouth before he turns back to you and shakes his head.

“Mi diablita, eres demasiado (My little devil, you are too much).”

Joel’s hand lays on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth while he steers his truck with the other hand. The cab is silent besides the soft trill of the radio and the wisping wind that whips in through the cracked windows as you head to pick up your car in the mall parking lot.

You can’t bring yourself to say anything, to recognize that you have to drive four miles away to go home when you live forty feet from Joel’s. Something swirls in your stomach, a similarly sinking feeling that guilt brings you but you don’t feel guilty about being with Joel. It’s not an ideal situation, and you would never want him to be subjected to neighborhood ostracization or gossip — but is avoiding that worth the dull burn you feel when you have to slink home after kissing him behind closed doors or staying the night? Not being able to go see him when you want to unless you sneak around to do it? Is it all worth it to him?

The pickup coming to a slow stop interrupts your spiraling thoughts, Joel’s hand patting your thigh to grab your attention. When you look over at him, brows creased with soft concern and brown eyes churning with sympathy. A tight smile presses your lips into a thin line, your hand laying over his.

“Before you go, um, I wanted to ask you somethin’,” his opposite hand stills on the steering wheel, curling his fingers around the frame tightly, “Sarah’s birthday party is coming up this Saturday. We’re havin’ it at the house, but I was wonderin’ if maybe you would come? Sarah told me about a million times that she wanted to invite you.”

Taut cheeks from your narrow smile relax, teeth showing when your top lip curls up. Your hand squeezes his under it, turning on the bench seat to face him more head-on.

“I’d love to come if Sarah wants me to,” his eyes dart to yours from their position looking out the windshield, eyes wide with hope, “But, do you want me to be invited? I mean, I know you said when you were planning the date that Tommy would be there and her friends’ parents — and her mom — so if it’s going to be too much, I can celebrate with Sarah bef—”

“My sweet girl, you’re fixin’ to work yourself up into a tizzy about nothin’,” Joel interrupts himself to lean over and catch your lips in a pacifying kiss, continuing when he pulls away, “I want you there. Probably will need you there, ‘cause I need help throwing the perfect “Little Mermaid, Lilo & Stitch, and Finding Nemo” party.”

A bellowing laugh rolls out of your chest, shaking your head as you reach out to pat his thigh, “Joel, honey, all of those movies are set in or around the ocean. Just make it sea-themed and Sarah will be extremely happy. I can help get things together this week.”

A long sigh exhales and deflates his chest, a sheepish grin on his face, “See? Need you there, sweetheart, ‘cause I clearly need the help.”

A few more kisses are exchanged, Joel escorting you the five feet over to your car and standing in the open door while you slide into the driver’s seat. His frame leans into your car, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Really liked havin’ you at home this weekend, darlin’. And being able to take you out on a date.”

“Me too, Joel.”

The look on his face is unreadable before his smile replaces it, a metallic thump sounding above you as he hits his palm against the roof of your car.

“Drive safe, sweet girl.”

The sound of children’s screams and laughter slowly muffled as you slid the porch door shut and stepped into Joel’s kitchen. The last of the snacks you’d come early to put together need to be brought outside for the kids, and Tommy’s been out on cooler duty — keeping it stocked with drinks for the parents in attendance. Your parents were out of town dropping your brother off at his new apartment for his sophomore year, so it was only you, the Millers, and some kids and parents from Sarah’s class and camp.

Standing at the island, you pour some more tortilla chips from the bag to fill up the bowl in front of you more, getting lost in fluttering around the kitchen to get everything perfect before you bring it all out. You don’t notice the sound of the door to the garage shutting or Joel’s footsteps coming through the living room to the wide entry to the kitchen. What does pull your attention away from your task is his voice, a smile playing at his lips as he watches you.

“Think you know this kitchen better than I do at this point, sweetheart.” He crosses the room and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in the private moment.

“I just know where all the stuff for the party was cause it was Sarah and I that went to the store to grab everything yesterday. And I put it away,” you shake your head with a grin, “You wanna grab some of this to bring it outside?”

His chin rests on your shoulder as he watches your hands move, his hands bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips.

“Mhmm, can do, darlin’. In a minute.” He presses his lips to your exposed skin next to the strap of your dress, dropping the fabric from his hands and gripping you to turn you around to face him. A gentle kiss is placed on your lips, you pull away after a moment and him chasing you to pepper pecks on your lips and cheek. Your laugh pulls him away from your face, a boyish grin showing his dimple.

“Thank you for your help today, sweetheart. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. You made Sarah’s birthday real special.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I would have helped even if I didn’t get an invite,” Joel chuckles and squeezes your waist as you continue, “You’re the one who planned the day and invited everyone and got all the games and everything outside. You’re the hero of the birthday. And you’re a really good dad.”

Sincere gratitude fills his brown eyes as you get lost in them, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you take each other in. It’s only interrupted at the sound of the screen door, you flipping around quickly to busy yourself and cover up the intimate moment with Joel.

Tommy strides in, oblivious to how close you two are standing as he crosses over to the fridge to grab another six-pack of beer to put in the cooler outside.

“Either these parents are drinkin’ like fish, or we’re gonna have some drunk eight-year-olds on our hands.” Tommy turns to face Joel next to you when the sound of the doorbell echoes rings throughout the house. After the first ring, it keeps going incessantly and the two brothers share a knowing look.

Joel sighs, rolling his eyes and brushing his fingers against your lower back subtly when he moves to go answer the door.

“Y’all know who that is just from the bell?” you ask Tommy, a bracing expression on his face when he hears the door open.

“Yeah, it’s something that Ti—” he’s cut off when an unfamiliar voice speaks quickly at Joel in the other room, annoyance slick in her words.

“Why’d you have to move across all of Austin, Joel? Makes the drive over here impossible. And made me late for my daughter’s birthday, so thanks for that.”

“Tiff, you’ve known my address since we moved and have known the time for the party for two weeks,” Joel’s voice gets louder as he follows Tiffany, Sarah’s mom, into the kitchen where you and Tommy are standing still. She looks over at Tommy, dropping her gift bag on the counter.

“Nice to see you, Tommy,” Tiff’s voice is laced with tension as she looks at the younger Miller.

“Always a pleasure, Tiff,” Tommy counters, a sarcastic smile on his face.

You’re watching it all from the far end of the kitchen, twiddling your thumbs out of nerves at the shift in energy. Tiff’s attention drags from Tommy, across the party food laid out on the island and up to you, her eyebrows raising.

“And you are?”

Her head bobbles as she asks, Joel stepping forward and giving you a quick apologetic look before he makes introductions, giving Tiffany your name before saying, “She’s Sarah’s nanny for this summer. And our next-door neighbor. And this is Tiff — Tiffany — Sarah’s mom.”

He makes a vague gesture between you and her, his shoulders tense under his white t-shirt. He slips his hands in his back pockets, eyes avoiding you as Tiff locks hers on you like prey.

“Nanny, huh?” Her lips press together into a thin line, nodding slowly as she surveys you head to toe. Right before she speaks again, the door opens, and Sarah bounds in with her curls bouncing.

“Hi, Mommy!” She runs over and gives her mom a hug, pulling away and looking around with a big smile at all of the adults closest to her in a room altogether.

“Everyone come outside! I wanna show you my cartwheel, I think I got it perfect now!”

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna come out and watch you, and we’ll be out in a minute, Bug.” Joel smiles sweetly at her, his eyes turning to Tommy as he jerks his head outside.

Tommy puts a wide smile on his face, chasing Sarah back out the door to go play. Joel huffs out a sigh as Tiff fills the silence again.

“So, can we just address the fact that you two are definitely fucking?” She points between you two with a cold laugh and you try your hardest to keep a poker face.

Joel rolls his eyes, turning to face Tiffany head-on.

“Tiff, it’s Sarah’s birthday party. We’re not talkin’ about my personal life right now, and even if we were, there’d be nothin’ to talk about.”

“Oh, bullshit. But whatever, you keep your secrets to maintain the spark of sleeping with someone that much younger than you. And it isn’t personal if it’s someone who’s takin’ care of Sarah. That affects me, and her too. Better not be doin’ anything in front of Sarah.”

“Quit bein’ ugly, Tiff. I’d never do anything that would negatively affect Sarah and you know that. Now let’s just drop it, ‘cause there’s nothing even going on, and enjoy celebrating our daughter’s birthday.”

It’s like watching a tennis match, the two of them going back and forth across the room from you. You feel like slinking out of the door if you could without drawing attention to yourself, but you definitely can’t do that so you’re as still as a statute. The people-pleasing tendencies in you are screaming at you to say something to diffuse the tension.

“Joel’s right, there’s really nothing. He’s just my boss, and I wanted to come today 'cause Sarah invited me.”

Both of their heads snap to you in the corner of the kitchen, Joel’s stare softening as he sees the manifestation of your anxiety in the way your fingers can’t stop fiddling. Tiff scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

Joel speaks much more relaxed to you, “You do not have to defend yourself, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? Well aren’t you just a precious thing, huh?” Tiff’s got a Cheshire smile on her face, shooting Joel a smug glare that makes your blood boil. She has the audacity to come over and blame all of her mistakes today on him, and to top it all off, accuse him of sleeping with you? And to call you ‘precious’? That’s a slap in the face in the South.

He is, obviously, but she absolutely doesn’t need to have the satisfaction of being right.

You watch her cross the room to head to the door to the backyard, sending a smirk to you. You muster one of your most polite smiles, catching her arm.

“Lovely to meet you, Tiffany, you’re so…self-willed. I can see where Sarah gets it,” you let go of her arm and hold your hand up to your chest to give her a “Bless your heart, hon.”

Which is Southern for “Fuck you.”

The door shuts hard behind her, shaking in its frame. You look at Joel, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose and eyes closed. You walk over to him and rest a hand on his shoulder. He jumps at your touch, his hand dropping from his face and his eyes opening to look at you to his right.

He immediately averts his gaze towards the floor, his downcast expression and furrowed brows telling you what he was going to say before he even speaks. You pull your hand away and swallow, giving him a tight smile.

“I’m gonna head home. I don’t want to be the subject of anything else between you two during Sarah’s birthday.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry about all that. She’s quick to temper and insults. And with her talkin’ like that, I just don’t think we should—”

“I get it. There are a lot of people here, and she’s Sarah’s mom. Kinda pulls rank over her nanny,” you laugh to attempt to break the tension, biting harshly on the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you Monday.”

“I really am sorry, sweetheart…Thank you for all your help,” he caresses your cheek, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Let me walk you out.”

You shake your head, patting his chest, “No, no you go spend time with Sarah. I’ll call you later to hear about her reaction to my gift.”

Joel nods back to you, watching you from the kitchen as you leave him with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, gathering the things you’d brought for party preparation and stepping out their front door. The echoes of giggles and screams carry all the way to your house, only stifled by the door closing behind you as tears sting your eyes.

The streaks on your face were long dried, your sundress exchanged for an oversized t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and place taken laying out on the couch as your third episode of Friends reruns starts. You curl into the throw blanket laid over you, pulling it up to tuck it under your chin. Rachel and Ross are yelling back and forth about if they were on a break or not, the sound tinny from the loud volume you’re playing it at. The couple on the TV is drowned out by a loud and steady knock on your front door, your head snapping in the direction of the entryway. You slowly climb off of the couch, tiptoeing over to attempt to hide yourself from any possible danger. Looking through the peephole, you see Joel’s back, all wide shoulders and messy hair as he kicks his feet against the pavement of your porch.

There’s a tightening in your chest as you debate whether or not to open the door or let him think you’ve gone to sleep already, but it is only 9pm and he knows you can be a bit of a night owl.

The deadbolt clicks undone and you twist the knob, gingerly pulling the door toward you. Joel turns around at the noise, half of his mouth quirking up in a nervous, closed smile. There’s nothing said for a few beats, the two of you only staring at each other.

You break first, huffing out a quiet exhale and leaning against the doorframe.

“You need something, Joel?”

A flash of hurt travels through his eyes at your aloof tone, pressing his lips together before he speaks.

“Wanted to come by and bring you a slice of cake,” he admits sheepishly, holding up an ocean-themed paper plate with a piece of the funfetti cake you’d baked for the event on top of it.

You extend your hand out to take the treat from him with your eyes dropping from his to follow the movement. His fingers brushed yours and his other hand gently closed around your wrist to keep you there for a moment.

“Can I come in? And maybe we can talk, or just hang out, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flick back up at his face, brown eyes pleading with you.

“You don’t have to get back to Sarah?”

He shakes his head, “Her present from her Uncle Tommy was a ‘sleepover at his house with loads of candy and doing what your dad says you can’t do’. She took him up on that offer tonight.”

You can’t help the chuckle that slips from your mouth, a faint smile on your face as you nod.

“Can’t say I blame her,” you take a step back and jerk your head to the side to gesture inside, “C’mon in.”

Joel kicks off his shoes in the entry, following you back to the living room and taking a seat next to you on the couch. You curl your legs up underneath you and face him, leaning your side against the backrest after lowering the volume on the TV further.

“So, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Joel lets out a deep sigh, leaning back and swiping a hand over his face before he looks at you.

“Today. All of that shit. You leavin’ early wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for everything Tiff said, and you ending up being in the middle of us arguing like we always do.”

“Yeah, there was certainly a lot…passion there.” You bite your lip and he shoots you a warning stare.

“Easy there, darlin’. Ship’s long sailed there.”

You laugh and nod slowly, silence falling between the two of you again.

“I meant what I said. It wasn’t fair to ask you to leave early or imply that you should. I just, I didn’t want anything to kick up dust or have anybody pick up on…” he trails off, not wanting to say what he thought out loud.

“Yeah.” It comes out as more of a sigh than a word, turning towards the nearly mute show playing on the TV.

Joel shifts closer on the couch, one of his hands coming up to hold your jaw and turn your head back to him.

“I care about you — so much, sweetheart, I do. I need you to know that. I just, I don’t want you to get hurt from what everyone says or have this affect your family or somethin’.” His thumb brushes your cheek, eyes locked on yours.

“I get it, Joel. I do. It was just, I don’t know, it was just hard to see you so easily say I was nothing but Sarah’s nanny today. That’s what upset me the most, how smooth of a lie it was — if it was even a lie.”

He cringes at the last part, a sting to his heart as his eyes linger closed for a moment.

“It wasn’t a lie, my sweet girl. You’re—you’re mine. In every way you’ll let me have you. You’re not nothing to me. You’re, you’re something incredible.”

There’s a candor in his eyes and in his words that mollifies the heartache burning your throat and your chest, your body melting into his touch and falling closer to him, chasing the warm puffs of air that blow from his lips.

You kiss him, his plush bottom lip puzzling in between yours in a tender touch. Both of you are still there for a breath before you pull back just inches, eyes looking at his through your lashes.

“I want you to have me in every way. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m yours, darlin’. You tell me what you want, I’ll give you anything.”

He searches your expression, waiting with bated breath for you to respond.

Instead, you stand from the couch and smile softly as Joel’s clearly confused, his hand grabbing yours to tether himself to you. You squeeze his fingers, tugging on his arm to get him to stand.

“I told you, I want you to have me in every way. I want it to be you, the first time. All the time.”

Joel smiles tenderly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you against him.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Ahead of him, you guide Joel up the stairs and to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him despite it only being you two in the house, enclosing you in the bask of the warm, yellow lamplight from your nightstands.

Joel observes the space that he’d peaked into so many nights this summer, a smirk playing on his lips as he reminisces. Your touch pulls him back to you, his smirk turning into a grin as his eyes filled with affection. His fingertips graze your cheekbones, one holding your jaw as he murmurs to you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Que hermosa.”

His lips capture yours in a wistful caress, the exchange heating up as his hands move from your face to dance along your curves, giving soft squeezes to your supple skin. Little, faint sounds that you’re making encourage him further, his large frame walking you backward as he tugs your t-shirt over your head — discarding it to the floor haphazardly.

There’s nothing more covering your chest, and Joel eagerly arcs down, one arm around your waist as his mouth encapsulates one of the peaks of your breasts, sucking and prodding his tongue over the perked-up nub. His name comes from you breathlessly, his lips removing with a faint pop.

“Lay down on your bed, sweetheart. ‘M gonna take care of you,” he pulls his own shirt over his head, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them off his legs before he moves to kneel on your bed in his boxer briefs. You do as he said, climbing onto your mattress and propping yourself against your pillows. Joel asks with a tug to remove your shorts, you give him a yes and lift your hips for him to pull off your shorts and panties, leaving you completely bare.

His hands skate back up your calves, hooking in the creases of your knees to spread your legs for him. They continue their journey up your thighs, one moving to skim over the softer skin at the inside near your throbbing core.

“Eres divina, mi dulzura. Una visión absoluta. (You are divine, my sweetness. An absolute vision).” His gaze pours over every inch of you, his touch exploring every spot his eyes linger. The attention he’s paying to you simmers inside of you, a quiet beg slipping out.

“Please, Joel…”

“What, baby? What can I do for you?”

His fingers are rubbing circles down your torso, stopping to brush against the curls at your mound while he waits for your command.

“Touch me please, like you did before.”

He hums contently at your request, licking his lips and swiping a finger through your arousal. His thumb presses languid circles on your clit. He bows his head down to yours, lips pressing against yours in unhurried kisses, swallowing the delicate whimpers that seep from your throat. Your sounds get louder and more persistent when he glides one of his fingers into you, a slow rhythm building before he adds a second.

“Taking it so well, darlin’. Feels good, yeah?” He speaks against your skin as his mouth dawdles along your neck to your collarbone, teeth grazing and lips sucking a mark onto your chest.

“Mhm fuck, Joel, I love your fingers inside me.”

“Gotta get you ready for me, sweet girl. Think you can take another?”

At your nod, he thrusts in a third, the stretch of his thick fingers reeling you to toe against the edge, your mind clear of anything other than the feeling of him filling you up. Your head pushes back into the pillows, his name repeated in a prayer each time he hooks against the spongy spot on your walls.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, my pretty girl. Show me how beautiful you look filled up with my fingers, squeezin’ around me,” his jaw dropping ajar to mirror your own as your release barrels into you, hands gripping Joel’s shoulders and digging you nails in. He works you through your euphoric descent, humid kisses pressed into your breasts.

Your fingers card through his hair, pulling his head up to yours and kissing him deeply. Joel hums a moan into your mouth, tongue melding with yours and grinding his tented boxers against your drenched heat, a dark wet spot forming on the light grey fabric. He pulls back, lips swollen red and puffy as he rasps out.

“Will you let me taste you, darlin’? Wanna feel you come on my mouth,” his nose nudges against yours as his words add to the humidity between the two of you, a whimper from you in protest.

“I want you inside me, please.”

“I will, sweet girl, promise. Gonna make it easier to take me. And I wanna have you on my lips for the rest of the night. Pretty please, sweetheart. I’m beggin’, even just a little taste.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh lightly, “‘M all yours.”

“Debes ser de mis sueños, cariño (You must be from my dreams, darling.) Don’t know how I found you.” A path down to your thighs was carved by his mouth, kisses, bites, and licks left on your skin. Joel settles on his tummy between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs to leverage your hips up to his mouth.

Joel purses his lips and exhales, sending cool air onto your wet folds. You hiss, one hand finding his hair as he chuckles darkly, his hooked nose nestling into the curls at the top of your center, inhaling deeply before his mouth finds your clit.

His tongue flicks your bud, flattening against it and moving in slow, teasing circles. He pulls his tongue back and puckers his lips around the button, sucking with a lewd noise as he takes some of your arousal in, exchanging for his own saliva.

“So sweet, pretty girl. Fuck, can’t get enough of you.”

The strong muscle of his mouth licks up from your tighter hole to your clit, a few figure eights flicked against it and driving your hips to jerk up involuntarily.

His thumb replaces his tongue, freeing it to dip down along your folds and lick into your tight cunt, a quick rhythm found that has you drenching his chin, high-pitched moans hyperventilating from your chest.

“Oh my god, Joel…”

A chuckle rumbles from him, vibrating against your skin and adding to his treatment of your cunt. Your fingers tug in his curls, eyes screwing shut tightly.

Right near the peak of your pleasure, he switches up his positioning and brings his lips back to nurse on your clit and two of his fingers replace his tongue inside of you.

The nearly pornographic noises he’s creating between your legs mix with your wanton moans, quick huffs of air giving you enough breath to shout his name as you come hard. Your hips push against his face to ride out the high, Joel moaning as you take control to fuck his face to keep it all going for yourself. Twinkles of light sparkle in your vision when you open your eyes again, colors kaleidoscoping at the edges of your gaze. You sit up to look down at Joel still on his stomach, a drunken smirk on his face when he looks up at you.

He groans as he lifts himself to rest his weight on his hands, climbing over you to bring his face even to yours. Your come glistens on his skin and coats his mustache and beard, a giggle slipping out as you shake your head.

“You’re a mess,” you say as you reach to wipe him clean, his head jerking back and eyes widening incredulously.

“Don’t get rid of it. Told you I wanna be tasting you for the rest of the night. You’re gonna taste yourself, too.” He smirks smugly, tracing the tip of his nose along the side of yours, his lips ghosting yours before catching you in a sloppy kiss.

“You taste good, don’t you think?” He winks as he studies you from above, a smirk still evident on his face. Your hand coasts down his soft torso, wrapping around his hard length after you slip your hand beyond the waistband, stroking him slowly as you watch his cockiness fall. His eyes flutter close, mouth ajar as tiny whimpers escape from his throat.

“I need your cock.”

With a shudder, he opens his eyes, the shade of them nearly black as his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip.

“Care to ask nicely, sweetheart?”

His low timbre sends a tingle that flutters your walls around nothing, huffing out before correcting your manners.

“May I please have your cock?”

Joel tsks from over you, his head slowly shaking left to right.

“Not quite. Again.”

“May I please have your cock, sir?”

He hums satisfied, kissing you tenderly and smirking against your lips.

“That’s my good girl,” another smack of your lips connects you two before he pulls away, looking at you adoringly, “You sure you wanna do this, my sweet girl?”

“Absolutely. Nobody else I’d want it with.”

“Ay Dios mío, ¿Cómo podría renunciar a ti? (Oh my god, how could I ever give you up?)” Disbelief floods his eyes, taking one last kiss from you, slow and sweet. Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees, making quick work to strip himself of his boxers. Your mouth waters as you look at his cock sprung against his stomach, pre-cum dripping from his head and a twitch jerking it before his hand wraps around and gives it a few lazy strokes.

He spreads your legs wider, making sure the position is comfortable as his hips crowd against you.

“Alright, sweetheart, it might be a little uncomfortable at first, but the beginning's gonna be the worst part. Once you feel good about that, rest will make you feel even better.”

You nod in understanding, feeling heat prickling around your whole body as nerves bubble in your stomach. Joel smiles tenderly at you, guiding his hard cock to line up at your entrance.

“You ready, cariño?”

“Yes, ‘m ready. Please, Joel…”

He takes the moment of your relaxed exhale to push the tip of him inside your walls, the stretch of his girth burning you in a different way than his fingers. It’s not an overly painful burn, feeling like the stretch of a muscle. His hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing your skin and speaking quietly.

“You alright, darlin’? ‘M not hurtin’ you, right?”

Your head shakes quickly, breathing out a breath you were holding and feeling your body relax around him and adjusting with the lack of tension.

“Not hurtin’. Just feels…different.”

“Different’s alright, sweetheart. ‘S just something new.”

Joel’s chest is taut as he breathes through his own pleasure, willing his hips still until you give him the go ahead to push a few more inches of himself inside of you. You feel fuller than ever before, even without all of his length inside. He pulls his hips back slowly, the drag of him inside squeezing a moan from you. He starts at a slow pace with only a few inches of himself, encouraged to give you more with the louder, repeated sounds you're making under him.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. So tight, god…”

“In a good way?”

“Yes, baby, course it’s good — everything about you is good, no, great. You’re makin’ me feel so unreal right now. You’re perfect.”

After a few more slow thrusts, he slips himself inside of you completely, his head rolling back with a moan of your name as you gasp loudly at the feeling of him against every part of your cunt. He loses his composure, lack of self-control seeping through as Joel starts to really fuck you, quick snaps of his hips burying him to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling, mouth opening with silence choking any words from your mind. One of his hands grips your waist to hold you in place on the mattress as he drives into you, the other cupping your breast and squeezing while his index and thumb pinch your nipple.

The attention all over your body ripples pleasure throughout every one of your nerve endings, his name falling from your mouth over and over in breathy whines. He folds over you, lips finding the shell of your ear and whispering to you as he pushes you to toe the edge of Cloud Nine.

“Te adoro, hermosa. Cada toque tuyo se siente como la luz de una estrella tocando mi piel. Cada beso me respira nueva vida. (I adore you, beautiful. Every touch from you feels like the light from a star touching my skin. Every kiss breathes new life into me.)”

He doesn’t translate for you, leaving his words a mystery to your love-drunk brain. With his next thrust, he pushes you over that edge, a fall from the heavens as you plummet back down from euphoria into your body.

“Fuck, baby, you’re made for me. Gonna make me come, god damn.” His hips move back to leave you, your instant reaction to hook your legs around, digging your heels into the flesh of his ass to keep him inside.

“Please, please inside of me. I’m on the pill, take it religiously,” you whine out a beg, desperation slick in your tone.

“Who am I to deny you, my sweet girl?” He shakes his head, hips thrusting into you a few more times before he spills his come, coating your walls and rolling his head back with a throaty groan. Both of you are still as you catch your breaths, his cock softening inside of you before he pulls it out slowly and lays next to you.

“You alright?”

A laugh first before answering, “‘M feelin’ amazing right now.”

Joel chuckles himself, a kiss to your cheek before he climbs out of your bed and traipses down the hall. You hear the swish of water from the tap turn on and off, bare footsteps slapping quietly against the wood floors as Jole comes back in through your doorway.

He cleans you up with a wet, warm cloth, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. Fluttering around your room, he moves smoothly as he gets the covers out from under you, tucking you in before discarding the cloth in your hamper and climbing under your comforter on the opposite side. He wraps you up as the little spoon, nose buried in your hair to smell your shampoo.

Half awake, you reach to shut off your lamp. A confession floods your mind in the dark, faint voice whispering to him behind you, “I love you.”

It’s been a week.

A week since you revealed your heart and yourself fully to Joel.

A week of him not acknowledging either event.

A really weird fucking week.

Your return to school looms over your head, this lull coming at the most inopportune time.

Every day you see Joel, it’s awkward and disjointed in your embraces and kisses when Sarah’s off playing or he’s walking you to the door. Nothing feels as smooth as it was before last week, and there’s a nagging feeling in your chest that Joel taking your virginity ruined everything. That your friends were right, that guys never wanted to be that for someone because “women get too attached.” It sounded like bullshit to you before, and you don’t feel like you’re any more clingy than you’d acted before, the most attention you ask for is a kiss goodnight when you leave his house. He was always the one initiating more.

One night, you’d had a horrible thought that now he’s had you, he didn’t want any more. That it was about the chase, the finish line at the end of the summer that he’d crossed early.

But Joel wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be that type of guy.

He was a father. And a good one at that. An honest man. Someone who looks out for his family, even for strangers.

How could Joel become so lackadaisical with someone he said he cared about?

Today had been another stuttered dance of a goodbye, a chaste peck against your lips and a mumbled “see you tomorrow” before he sent you on your way, the door already closed when you glanced over your shoulder.

It had been eating away at you, carving out a part of your heart as you mulled over it all night. Your parents were asleep at this point, and looking out your window quickly, you saw his living room light still on.

You padded silently downstairs and slipped on shoes, quietly leaving out of your front door and crossing over to Joel’s porch. You knock instead of ringing the bell, not wanting to wake Sarah. The minute it takes Joel to answer the door feels like an hour, the courage you had about this confrontation fading with each passing second.

The entrance cracks open, half of Joel’s revealed as he takes you in. The rest of the door swings open, concern washing over his face with a furrowed brow and downturned mouth.

“It’s late, sweetheart. What are you doin’ out over here? Did something happen? Do you need help with something?”

With your arms crossed over your chest, you shake your head, glancing back at your house over your shoulder and debating if you should just forget this whole thing. Maybe he’s been having an off week — maybe it’s not worth bringing up if it could make things worse before you’re going to be three hours away at school for nine months.

The smallest part of you still urges you to push, to make him say what he’s feeling, even if it’s as simple as ‘I had a bad week at work’. If he can’t talk to you about what’s wrong now, what could happen if something starts bothering him when you’re going to have phone calls and limited visits?

It’s easier to justify a breakup when the person isn’t around for you.

“Nothing’s happened, I—well, I wanted to come talk to you about this week. Just, things’ve been off. With us.”

Joel’s eyes hit the floor as you say that, his shoulders tensing along with the forearm that’s gripping the door. Anxiety pools in your stomach, the taut silence adding to your nerves. Is he angry?

“Think you should come in and sit down, sweetheart.”

That can’t be good.

You trail behind Joel after he shuts the door, following him into the living room and sitting at the end of the couch he gestures to. He sits near the middle, not quite the complete opposite end but not the spot he would have chosen before this week. Quickly grabbing the remote off the coffee table, he shuts off the TV and leaves the two of you in near darkness save for the soft light of the lamp behind you.

“Guess I should explain myself for this week.”

You can’t bear to look at him right now, your eyes turned down to your lap where you're picking at nails and a hangnail around your thumb.

“I’ve been thinkin’ a lot this week. About us. About the summer,” Joel sighs, his own eyes watching your nervous hands, “It has been a great summer. One of the best for me, I really do mean that. You’re so incredible, darlin’ b—”

“But what?”

Your gaze has risen to Joel, bile burning your throat when you see the look on his face — no hint of a smile when he said those words, no joy in his eyes. His mouth is in a downturned pout, his eyes rounded with sadness. The placement of his hands on his thighs is rigid, back straight as he cheats himself to face you more.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep goin’. For us to continue…this.”

Tears blur your vision until you blink them back, a few stray ones falling down your cheeks. You sniffle as Joel brings a hand up to wipe the drops from your cheeks — you let him, thinking it might be one of the last times, if not the last, he ever does anything soft like that for you.

“Why?”

Water wells the corners of your eyes again, lips pressed into a hard, flat line to hold in your sobs. Joel’s hand lingers against your skin, a flash of regret in his eyes that makes you think he’ll take it all back and you can forget about this ever happening.

But that look fades, replaced with the sadness from a minute before.

“You’re gonna be away at school, sweetheart. Three hours away. Busy as all get out for your last year. And I’m gonna be here. Bein’ a dad. And a mom too, most of the time. Plus with working full time on top of all that, I just, I couldn’t even promise a phone call to you, sweetheart.”

“But you could come visit on the weekends that Sarah’s at her mom’s…or-or I can come down. I would drive down every weekend to see you.”

“How'd you explain coming home every weekend to your parents? And you'd miss all the fun of your senior year for me? I couldn’t let you do that, darlin’. I wouldn’t want you to ever resent me for taking something like that away from you,” he shakes his head, definitiveness laced in his words, “I didn’t get to have all those experiences with Sarah being born, I didn’t even go to college. You have so much ahead of you, I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“How come you’re the one that gets to decide what I should do with my senior year? You’re not even giving me a choice. You’re not even giving me a chance if you do this, Joel.”

Tears fall freely at this point, not bothering to hold them in. Anger burns white hot in your chest, jaw clenched as you think about how he’s gone and decided what your life was going to be from now on.

“Sweetheart, you know it’s not like that—”

“It is. My whole life I’ve been making decisions to please people, if you can even call what I did making decisions. I listened to my parents, did the extracurriculars they told me to, never partied or got in trouble. I went to the college that they thought would be the best for me, even chose my fucking major — my career path — based on one thing my dad said to me years ago; he said ‘Y’know, you’ve got a smile that could sell ice to a penguin.’ I was twelve when he said that. And immediately I thought — if I could sell things like he said, he’d be proud of me, so I went into advertising,” you sit up on the couch further, shaking your head in disbelief, “I thought this summer was the first time I was choosing for myself. That nobody knew about how much I felt for you, that I was the one who was deciding that I wanted you. And when I decided that, when I told you I loved you, I wanted you to know that I was always gonna choose you. That this was the one path I could fully control.”

“Now I think I realize that I wouldn’t have done anything about it had you not kissed me first. I would have never made that decision without you deciding first. I’ve been following blindly my whole life. I wanted you to be the first thing I really chose. But I never really had a choice when it came to us. You were always gonna call the shots for what happened to us.”

“I didn’t go into all this knowing it was gonna come down to this at the end of the summer,” Joel’s voice is low and raspy, “I would never hurt you on purpose or string you along, sweetheart. I was in the moment with you. It was easy to forget about anything else when I was with you. You know I'm not going anywhere, I’ll always be here if you come back. But I think we both know you're destined for great things after you graduate.”

“I need you to do this for me, darlin’, please. Go have fun, be selfish this year. Spread your wings, mi mariposa. My butterfly.”

You stand from the couch, a sob escaping your lips as you turn to walk out the door. Joel follows you closely, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him.

“Joel, I don’t want to do this back and forth anymore. We’re done. It’s fine, it’s what you want and I am clearly not going to change your mind.”

“I just—I want you to know that I’m always going to care about you, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you.”

A sharp pain crackles in your chest as your heart crumbles, shards of it nestling to prick your lungs and steal the air from them, scrape against your ribs, spread everywhere in your body until it all hurts. Without another word, you take your arm from his grasp and leave out the front door. No looking back this time, no seeing if he’s watching you walk away from his life.

The trunk of your car slams shut with a push, all the belongings you’d brought home packed up again to make the drive back to school. You’re moving in earlier than you thought you would, heading back at the same time as your roommates instead of at the last second like every summer before.

It’s been a dull last few weeks.

You didn’t have your job anymore to fill your days. Joel had messaged you that you were off the hook the morning after, and you spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet tears about not being able to say goodbye to say goodbye to Sarah. You had barely gotten glimpses of Joel, mostly seeing his truck parked in the driveway or coasting down the street in the mornings, but not much of him.

You’re not entirely sure if that’s helped or not.

But it doesn’t matter much now anyways, decisions were made and now you were finally leaving home.

On your driveway, your parents hugged you goodbye, your brother has already left for his school year to start baseball season training. With one last kiss on the cheek from your mom and a pat on the shoulder from your dad, you climbed in behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway. As you face towards the exit of your street, you take one look at the Miller house.

Joel’s standing on the porch with Sarah standing in front of him, a beaming smile on her face as she waves wildly at you. You roll your window down and wave back at her, laughing as she yells out a goodbye and good luck to you.

Flicking your eyes up to her dad standing behind her, hands on her shoulders and a closed, faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts his hand in a short wave to you, and all you manage is a nod of acknowledgment back to him. You start driving away, watching both houses next to each other shrink in the rearview mirror. You blast the AC after rolling your window back up, turning on the radio to fill the silence and distract your mind.

The station host finishes up an ad read and immediately goes into the next song, trills of piano and slow, bright vocals.

American Pie.

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likecastle · 8 months

Note

Prompt “oh shit” “ I told you not to touch it!”

Thank you, anon! I forgot my own advice from the first one of these and wrote something (kinda) angsty. No serious warnings for this one--just misunderstandings, and some classic Nancy Wheeler passive aggression.

“Oh, shit!” Robin looks on in horror as the precarious stack of books Nancy had so carefully piled on her study carrel comes toppling down. The noise it makes, Robin is fairly certain, can be heard all across the Boston metropolitan area. Possibly she’s just triggered a sonic boom. Heads whip in their direction, and a great round of sanctimonious shushing rises up like a tidal wave.

“Robin!” Nancy hisses. “I told you not to touch that!”

“Well, they do say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” she jokes, trying to cover her chagrin. The look of exasperation on Nancy’s face makes Robin snap her mouth shut and start picking up the fallen books in silence.

Nancy is gathering up heaps of notecards that took the chance to spring free of the plastic box Nancy was storing them in, scattering all the way into the stacks. “Everything’s always a joke with you,” she mutters under her breath.

Robin feels herself flush—kind of impressive, given that she’s already humiliated herself so thoroughly—and dips her head to focus on the books she’s stacking. She’s starting to think coming here was a mistake—not just accompanying Nancy to the library, but coming to visit at all. It’s midterms, after all, and she could have just waited to see Nancy at home over spring break, but her semester ended a few days earlier than Nancy’s, and she’d thought it would be fun to drive back to Hawkins together. Nancy had sounded enthusiastic when Robin pitched the idea of a road trip—at least, Robin had thought she did. But now that Robin’s actually here, it feels like her presence is more of a nuisance than a welcome distraction.

Robin’s been trying to tell herself it’s just exam stress, but it’s getting harder and harder to convince herself that's true. After last night, Robin’s seriously considering just shelling out for a bus ticket back to Hawkins. And now, of course, she’s gone and made things worse.

Once she’s stacked the fallen books back on the desk again—probably not in the right order, but at least they’re not sprawled on the floor—she takes a careful step back and says, “I’m gonna go get a cup of tea from that place we went yesterday. D’you want anything?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy huffs. Then, thinking better of it, “Coffee—”

“—black,” Robin finishes, “I know. Promise you won’t leave before I get back?”

Nancy rolls her eyes, which Robin figures is as much reassurance as she’s going to get.

It doesn’t take her long to make her way out of the library and get in line at the little café around the corner. It’s sort of a relief, actually, to be out in the fresh air, away from the anxious silence of the library and Nancy’s own inexplicable bad mood. If only Robin knew what she’d done wrong—before she caused a massive book avalanche, that is. Nancy’s mood has been sour ever since they left the party last night, and Robin can’t for the life of her figure out why.

She’s trying to decide whether she wants Mystic Mint or Calming Chamomile when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns to find a fresh-faced girl standing behind her. Robin knows they were introduced at the party last night, but she can’t quite recall the girl's name. Rebecca or Regina or Ramona, something like that.

“Robin, right?” the girl says.

“At your service,” Robin says, and then, for some totally unknown reason, she gives a little dramatic twirl of her hand like a Victorian gentleman doffing his cap. No wonder Nancy's so sick of her.

The girl quirks a bemused, almost pitying smile. “How’s Nancy doing this morning?”

“Annoyed at me, mostly,” Robin says, trying to be sanguine about it. “What can I tell you? I’m just really good at getting on Nancy Wheeler’s nerves. It’s a talent, honestly. I should put it on my resume.”

The girl—Renata? Romilda?—laughs incredulously. “I mean, I’d be pissed, too, if my date spent the whole night talking to someone else.”

Everything around Robin goes silent. All she can hear is the ringing in her ears. “Uh—what?” she croaks.

Roberta-or-Roxanna says is saying something, but Robin isn’t listening. It feels like that single word has replaced the sound of her pulse in her ears—date date date. Is that what last night was? Is that why Nancy was so weird about asking if she wanted to go to the party, assuring Robin over and over that they didn’t have to go if she didn’t want to? Is that why she’d worn her dressy shoes, the black ones that pinch her toes?

Now that she thinks of it, the place they had dinner before-hand was a little nicer than she’d expected it to be. And their table had been kind of secluded in the back, with those fancy candles. Maybe that would explain why Nancy had been so irritated when Robin started toasting her breadstick over the open flame.

She thinks back to how Nancy had introduced her to her friends at the party. She hadn’t said, “This is Robin, my friend from home,” or, “Robin and I went to high school together.” She’d just said, “This is Robin,” and Robin remembers thinking how strange it was that all of Nancy’s friends had glanced at each other like they knew exactly what that meant. She’d thought at the time they must have heard some embarrassing stories about her from their time in Hawkins. Only maybe that hadn’t been it at all.

She realizes, absently, that she’s holding up the line. The barista is staring at her, waiting for her to order, and the other people behind her in line are starting to get impatient, and Roseanna-or-Rowena is looking at her like maybe she’s left the planet.

“I’ve gotta go,” Robin says, to nobody in particular, before peeling out of the line and running out of the café without a second look back.

#femslashtember #ronance #robin x nancy #robin/nancy #stranger things femslash #augh i feel like this deserves a longer treatment to do it justice but here we are!

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

Text

Fool Me Once - Chapter Two

Warnings: Light angst, stalking, coercion, smut, theft. Word count: ~3k

Main series masterlist

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She awakens, a dull throbbing in her skull serves as a reminder of the previous evening’s strawberry daiquiris, as she grumbles to herself and stretches. It’s only as her arm reaches out into the empty spot beside her in the bed that she remembers who she’d brought back with her and what they’d gotten up to. She smiles to herself at the memory. She hadn’t expected to hook up with anyone so soon into her holiday, and though it’s disappointing to see that he’s bailed on her, she’s not surprised. Lazy prick couldn’t even be bothered to make me cum.

She’s no stranger to selfish men. This trip is funded by the money she’d gotten from selling almost all of her ex’s prized trainer collection on Depop, after having found out he was cheating on her. She’d booked the plane ticket on a whim and decided to go away by herself. This holiday was going to be a rebirth for her, no more letting people walk all over her, life is for taking what you want. That had started by impulsively stuffing a book from the WHSmith in the duty free area of the airport into her bag. She still isn’t sure why she did it, but the thrill of stealing it has yet to wear off.

She was disappointed to discover that the book she’d shoplifted, The Secret, was all about manifestation. She’d had enough of idealising the life she wanted, good things happen to those that get out there and grab them. As she laid in the sand feeling resentful of the spoils of her theft, another opportunity to take what she wanted had presented itself to her. She was unsure of how much of his story about being a monk she believed, but he was tall, good looking and open to some fun, so she didn’t care.

She feels smug for having allowed herself that little indulgence, in spite of the resulting hangover and woeful lack of orgasm. Slowly, she climbs from the bed, making her way to the bathroom when she catches sight of her bag from the corner of her eye. It lays on the floor, contents strewn haphazardly across the carpet. Acrid tendrils of panic flutter in her chest and stomach.

Nonononono. This can’t be what I think it is.

Her suspicions are confirmed as she drops to her knees to paw through her belongings and finds her purse open and all the cash missing. Fucking arsehole. He’d at least had the decency to leave her phone and bank cards alone.

She draws in a deep breath, swallowing back the tears that are desperate to spring forth. “This is fine. I’ll be fine.” She tells herself. He’d only taken a hundred quid’s worth of Thai baht, she can always withdraw more, it isn’t the end of the world. I will not cry over this.

Showering and readying herself for the day, the sense of unease refuses to budge no matter how hard she tries to convince herself it isn’t a big deal. She is further unnerved when she discovers her bikini bottoms from the previous day are missing. Christ, has he taken those as well? What an absolute creep.

Scooping her passport into her bag, she makes her way out of the hotel and heads towards the currency exchange kiosk down the street. Stepping from the cool air conditioning into the intense humidity outside immediately makes her feel sticky, so she is eager to get what she needs and head back as quickly as possible.

Sliding her bank card and passport, along with a scrap of paper that has the amount of baht she needs scribbled on it across the counter to the tired looking lady that sits behind it, she anxiously drums her fingernails on her thighs while she waits, trying to avoid eye contact. Why does this part always feel so fucking awkward?

Her attention snaps back to the woman as she taps insistently on the perspex divider, a look of annoyance on her face as she holds up the open passport. The ID page is missing. Bile rises in her throat as her eyes widen. What the fuck?!

She snatches it back, along with her bank card, her eyes never leaving the space where the missing page should be as she walks slowly back to the hotel in a daze.

It’s only as the coolness of the air conditioning in her room touches her skin that she snaps out of it and the pieces fall into place. He’d robbed her and taken her passport ID page. The realisation hits her like a bucket of ice water and the tears she’d fought back earlier finally spring free. Her knees buckle beneath her as she sobs, her body shaking with the force of it as her mind races with all the worst possible scenarios. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’ll never make it home. What the fuck am I going to do?!

Once her tears finally subside, common sense returns and she reaches for her phone, pushing herself off the floor to perch on the edge of the bed. With shaky hands she types into Google “what to do if your passport is stolen abroad”, scrolling through the varying answers until she lands on something more official looking.

The overall process looks straightforward enough, though it is a hassle she can do without. Painstakingly she completes an LS01 form to cancel her current passport, cursing the impracticality of how small her phone screen is, it makes everything much more fiddly than it needs to be.

She has the choice to either report her passport as stolen to the local police and use the crime reference number to apply for an emergency travel document, which would then mean needing an appointment with the British Embassy in Thailand, or she can order a new passport to her current location which will arrive in three weeks.

There is still a week and a half of her trip left and she has enough annual leave left at work to cover extending her holiday. Her travel insurance will cover the additional costs, if she marks her passport as lost, all she needs to do is change the date of her return flight, so she decides to do just that.

As much as she’d love to report the thieving scumbag to the police, it comes with a lot of additional admin that she simply cannot be bothered with. With any luck they’ll never cross paths again and this will serve as nothing more than an inconvenience. Looking on the bright side, she gets a longer holiday because of it, so it’s not all bad.

By the time she’s finished all of the unexpected but necessary admin that comes with having your passport stolen, it’s early evening and she’s in desperate need of a drink. She decides to head further along the coast to Tri Trang, as she’ll be here a while she may as well make the most of it and explore outside of Pa Tong.

She stops at an ATM on the way, grinding her teeth in annoyance as she sees the extortionate bank charge and awful conversion rate flash up on screen as she makes her withdrawal. Something she could have avoided if she had her passport and could use a currency exchange kiosk. You absolute bastard. Her temper flares again as she remembers his subtle smirk, grabbing the notes as they’re dispensed and stuffing them into her purse.

An hour later, she sits at a beachside bar, looking out to sea and sipping a tequila sunrise, feeling slightly calmer. Whether it’s the medicinal effects of the alcohol, or the passing of time, she doesn’t care, but it’s the first time all day that she’s felt at peace.

That is until she spots him. He’s not in his red robes, but she’d recognise his tall, lanky frame and buzzed haircut anywhere. She feels the heat of anger spread white hot throughout her body, the urge to march over to him and wring his stupid neck is immeasurable.

She watches him disappear down a side street and decides to follow. He heads into a bar off of the main strip. It’s small, seedy looking and void of tourists. It feels decidedly deliberate on his part. As satisfying as it would be to stride in after him and give him a dressing down, it wouldn’t be the justice he deserves. In that moment she decides she has a better use for the extension of her visit to Thailand; revenge.

She spends the next couple of weeks following him, making a note of the places he stays, where he goes, and she spots patterns in his behaviour. He only frequents tourist spots when he’s in his robes and each time leaves with a different girl, she assumes they are all going to meet a similar fate to her. She feels a twinge of guilt knowing that that is something she could likely have prevented, if she’d reported what happened to her to the police, but this is not about them, it’s about her, and taking what she wants. She knows that once she’s had her way he’ll never do anything like this to anyone else ever again.

On the nights that he’s not in his robes, he goes to bars that are off the beaten track. It’s not hard to figure him out; he’s using the monk spiel on gullible tourists to get them to take him home so he can steal from them, then avoiding being spotted by going to places only locals frequent in the days after. He moves down the coast as he goes, never staying in the same spot for too long, careful not to get caught.

All the while she plans how she’ll give him a taste of his own medicine. If he enjoys making women feel vulnerable and scared in a foreign country, then she’ll ensure he experiences that same feeling for himself.

It’s the day after he’s gone home with yet another girl and she has a pretty good idea of where he’ll be that evening, so she decides to put her plan into action. She makes a hotel reservation for that night in the local area - one that has a specific type of bed she needs, then after a quick Google search she treks across town to the nearest sex shop.

It’s difficult not to get distracted by the lewd display of items inside, and when she finds herself spending a little too long gazing at the colourful array of sex toys on offer, she reminds herself to stay focused. The guy behind the counter speaks little English, but it proves not to be an issue when she’s able to show him a photo of exactly what it is she wants on her phone.

She leaves the shop with the items she needs and a devilish grin on her face. Heading back to the hotel she’s booked for the evening she prepares, situating the items beneath the mattress where she needs them, before readying herself to go out. She puts on her shortest sundress, carefully styles her hair and does her make up to a standard she knows will withstand the Thai humidity. He’ll never be able to say no.

It doesn’t take long to find him. After looking in a couple of off-street dive bars, she eventually spots him, propping up the bar of a dingy pub. He’s dressed in Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a fitted white t-shirt. She hates that even after everything he’s put her through he still looks so good to her.

The bar is hot and sweaty, already she can feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck. She makes her move before she has the chance to change her mind and walk back out. He doesn’t even notice her as she sidles up to him, until she places a gentle hand on his arm.

“Shawn, wasn’t it?” She asks sweetly.

His eyes go wide as he turns to look at her, his face blanching as recognition flickers across it.

Her grip on his arm tightens as he looks like he’s about to bolt. “No, wait!” She pleads. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, I swear, but I have and I just wanted to let you know there are no hard feelings.”

His eyebrows raise slightly at this, his mouth dropping open a little before he composes himself. “Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you for doing what you did. Leaving the monastery like that, you must have been desperate.” She lies, her smile is saccharine as she gazes up at him.

“Oh…” His eyes flicker away from hers for a moment before looking back. “...yeah, it’s been hard. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Let me buy you a drink to show there’s no hard feelings?” She asks hopefully.

He shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno, I should probably get going…”

“Oh come on,” She flutters her eyelashes. “Just one?”

“Alright, go on then.” He finally agrees.

Thirty minutes later, they sit close together at a table, their knees grazing. He’s two beers deep, not including what he drank before she arrived and the glint in his eye as his gaze travels repeatedly over her curves lets her know that she’s got him already. This will be easier than I thought.

“I just can’t believe you’re not angry with me.” He says, fingers picking at the label on his bottle.

“You’re too cute to be angry with,” She coos shamelessly, fingertips tracing over the sharpness of his jawline. “I’m sorted now anyway. I didn’t go to the police, didn’t want you getting into trouble.”

He smiles at her, dopey and lopsided and she has to remind herself that this is all for show as she feels a familiar ache between her legs.

“So, I had fun last time…” She says with a knowing smile. “...was thinking maybe you’d be up for a repeat?”

Mere moments later they are a clash of lips, teeth and tongue as they push their way into her new hotel room. If he notices the change in location, he doesn’t say anything. It’s unlikely he remembers, she thinks, he does this so often that locations would be impossible for him to keep track of.

Once they’ve rid themselves of their clothes, she lays him back on the bed and at first she fully intends to just go through with her plan and then leave. That is until she sees the hardness of him, flushed pink at the tip and leaking against his lower abdomen. She feels arousal pool between her legs at the sight of it.

God, he’s hot, even if he is a dickhead. And I didn’t get to cum last time…

She figures it’s the least he owes her. She tears open a condom wrapper, rolling it onto the length of him, as he watches her expectantly.

They groan in unison as she straddles him and sinks down. The stretch of him inside of her causes her mind to blank momentarily and she has to force herself back into the moment as she begins to roll her hips.

“Fuck…that feels good..” He whispers, large hands splayed on either side of her hips as he watches her, slack jawed, as she rides him.

She allows her hands to stroke over the planes of lean muscle of his chest and stomach, enjoying how they flex beneath her fingertips, as the head of him brushes repeatedly against a spot inside of her that has her clenching around him.

Angling her hips, she increases her pace, drawing herself closer to the edge with every movement. He lets out a low groan beneath her.

Fuck you, you’re not finishing before me this time.

She snakes a hand between her legs, circling her bud in sync with the undulation of her body, allowing the coil in her lower belly to tighten until it finally snaps and pleasure rushes through her body, warm and all consuming.

She leans forward, pressing Shawn’s wrists above his head as he begins to thrust up into her,, chasing his own pleasure. He chuckles lightly against the shell of her ear at her perceived display of dominance.

“Shit…I’m close…” He grits out.

Keeping a hand on his wrists, she uses the other to retrieve what she’d hidden beneath the mattress earlier, quickly cuffing his wrists to the slats of the headboard and climbing off of him, denying him release.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts, arms tugging at the handcuffs that now restrain him to the bed.

“I didn’t get an orgasm last time, so neither do you.” She giggles, putting her clothes back on.

He scoffs, leaning heavily back against the pillows and rolling his eyes. “Very funny. You’ve made your point, now let me go.”

“That’s not how this works. You don’t get to make demands,” She tells him, leaning down to rifle through the pockets of his discarded trousers. She takes his wallet, opening it and taking out the notes inside. “I’ll be keeping this. You can consider it repayment for what you stole from me…hmmm…actually…”

She bundles his clothes and shoes into her arms, deciding to take them with her.

His face reddens with anger, nostrils flaring. “You’re fucking mental, uncuff me!”

“Nah,” She says, depositing the keys to the cuffs on the TV stand and gathering her stuff. “Think I’ll leave you for the cleaners to find in the morning. Or perhaps Buddha can help you enlighten your way out, arsehole.”

She leaves the hotel room, a satisfied smile upon her lips. That thieving shithead had finally met his match, and she’d made sure he’d live to regret it.

#genyen #genyen doctors #ewan mitchell #genyen x reader #genyen smut #genyen fan fiction #genyen fanfiction #genyen fan fic #genyen fanfic

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scholastic-dragon · 2 years

Note

Hello ! :) I know this is a bit lengthy so feel free to skip if the next paragraph of this if you'd like lol. I'm requesting a 2016/2014 donnie x Fem!Reader love confession. I think most of us assume that donnie boy is far too shy to confess at least verbally so I'd like to think he does it in a sweet note.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR9c25qX/

I am not sure if you can click on that at all but the tiktok is a girl who made her bf a book over a year filled with journal entries about how she felt and filled with movie tickets, rose petals from him etc. and I thought it was really sweet and reminded me of him <3

I hope you meant this as, Donnie makes y/n something cause that's how I wrote it. If not I'm so sorry

Bay!Donnie x Fem!reader

TMNT Stocking Stuffers

Read Between the Line

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of blood, crushes and confessions, just a lot of fluff, spelling mistakes, swearing,

Summary: Donnie finally finds the courage to confess his feelings....through a scrapbook

It was done.

Finally, after six long months he had finished the scrapbook.

And right in time for Christmas, how wonderful is that. The beautiful layers of snow covering the roads and trees, the constant little snowflakes flying around the air.

The smell of hot cocoa and candy canes wafting through the air no matter where you are in the city.

And now the great and unnerving pain and anxiety of possibly being rejected by the most beautiful and amazing thing to ever walk into his life. Literally.

💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

It had happened almost a year ago now, he and his brothers were patrolling the city, as always, when a group of women had been attacked by some drunk dickheads.

Donnie and Raph had been sent down the back end of the alley in case more guys showed up as back up and so the ones already there couldn't run.

Donnie jumped down from the building first, looking at his hologram projector on his wrist, making a mental note of any and all paths the drunks could use to escape.

He was so consumed by his watch, he didn't notice Raph wasn't at his side.

"Don, wait!" Raph whisper yelled from way behind him.

That's strange why did he stop following-

One lady ran right around a dunpster and smacked right into Donnie's chest.

"Oh god!" He froze, arms awkwardly stretched out. Even thought it was past 1 in the morning, the moon was bright and it was very clear he was not human.

Even thought some humans had been alright with what they were, they knew they still had to be careful.

The woman was too busy too notice, clutching her nose in gloved hands, eyes screwed shut.

"Don! Donnie!" Raph whispered, throwing a small rock at the back of his head. Donnie glanced over his shoulder, seeing Raph had jumped up onto the buildings fire escape. "Get your ass out of there!"

"Uh-" Donnie glanced back at you, for some reason he couldn't move his legs.

"What the hell is your prob-" You yelled, opening your eyes, gasping sharply.

Great, now he's really in deep shi-

"What are you?" Your eyes were wide, a small trickle of blood dripping from your red nose, it stained your gloves, but that was the last thing on your mind.

"Uh, well, we're here to help you and your friends from those drunk guys." He awkwardly put his hands down, rubbing them on his pants.

"I'm sorry, 'we'?" You gasp, hearing a thump from behind you. Leo and Mikey jumped down the alley, promptly stopping upon seeing you standing there.

"There's more of you?" You mumble more to yourself. Your chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Don't worry, Ma'am, we're here to help. We've already taken care of the men who attacked you, is your nose okay?" Leo politely spoke, taking a step forward, putting his katanas on his shell. Subtlety putting himself between you and Mikey, just incase.

"Um, I think so," You tap the back of your glove to your nose, noticing how no new blood appeared.

"Alright, your friends are waiting in the other alley," He gestured behind him, coming to stand next to Donnie. "If you don't require immediate medical attention,"

"No, I just hit my nose on his....chest?" You waved a hand to Donnie, to which Mikey and Leo snap their heads toward to him, eyebrow ridge raised. "But it's not broken, um, thank you for helping us,"

"It's what we do," Mikey smiled, coming up to you, holding out a hand. "I'm Mikey, and I don't believe I got your name," Leo smacked the back of his head, he winced but kept his hand out.

"Y/n," To everyone's surprise you shook it, secretly taking in his features.

"Alright, we should head out, we've called the police for those drunks in the other alley," Leo grabbed Mikeys shell and pulled him away, Raph -who was surprisingly still hidden- jumped up and lifted himself to the roof of the building.

Donnie still hadn't moved, there was something about you that made his brain short circuit. Your eyes were wide and beautiful in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry about your nose," He blurted out, finally finding his voice. "And for possibly frightening you,"

"It's alright, no harm really done," You laugh, showing a beautiful smile and small dimples. "What's your name?"

"Donnie,"

💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

Still feeling guilty about your nose, Donnie insisted on walking you home. You agreed and talked the whole time, you had a tendency, he realized, to ramble.

You gave him your number as he was leaving and texted for 3 months straight after that. It was so easy to talk to you and you were so lively and fun to be around.

You started coming over more, winning over his family and quickly becoming a close friend. You kept beating Mikeys video game high scores, showed Raph new knitting patterns and even helped Leo revive one of his almost dead plants.

When he realized he saw you as more than a friend he knew he had to do something big to tell you. He started journaling his feelings, writing how he felt when you challenged him about his favorite movies and made him see things in different lights. How happy he was when he saw you ordering food and knowing his order off the top of your head. How his knees went weak when you sat next to him during dinner and movie nights.

On your birthday he surprised you with tickets to your favorite musical, and you shocked him even more by saying you wouldn't go without him. So in he snuck, ducked into the farthest and darkest corner of the theater, secretly holding your hand the whole time.

He started compiling everything he could find: taking his journal entries, stalking your Facebook for pictures of you, and finding colorful stickers to put everywhere.

Finally, a week before Christmas it was done, he sighed, rubbing his face. He'd been up all night finishing it.

Shutting off the main lights, he took off his glasses and fell face first into bed, and for the first time in a long time, fell asleep almost instantly.

He woke up several hours later to Leo gently tapping his shell.

"Donnie? Donnie, you're still living right? Or has your coffee addiction finally stopped your heart?"

Donnie rolled onto his side, lazily pushing away Leo's hand. "I'm up, I'm up," He groaned, stretching out his long limbs. "What time is it?"

"Noon, you missed morning training," Leo, crossed his arms, taking a step back from the bed and sitting down in his computer chair.

Shit.

"Sorry, I didn't go to bed until super late last night," He rubbed his face, surprised to find he was still wearing his mask. He really must've been tired.

"What were you up doing this time?" Leo rolled his eyes, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair.

"I finished that scrapbook for Y/n," Leo had been the first one Donnie told of his crush, knowing he could actually keep a secret. Leo was the one to suggest journaling his feelings.

"Really? Where is it?"

"It's right-" Donnie extended his hand, but stopped, the scrapbook wasn't there. "It was right there, what-" He stood, walking over to the desk, pushing the loose paper and pencils out of the way.

"It was right here!" Panic started to rise, he didn't remember putting it away.

"Did you put it away?" Leo asked.

"No, I left it right here. I don't understand, where did it go?!"

"What's going on?" Mikey leaned against the doorway, chewing on a sugar cookie.

"Donnie misplaced the gift he made for Y/n," Leo answered, rolling the chair out of the way so Donnie could duck down and search under the desk.

"You mean the scrapbook?"

Donnie hit his head on the desk from lifting it so fast. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"How do you know about it, I only told Leo,"

"I went to check on you last night and saw it on the desk, and I figured I'd help," He shrugged, taking another bite of the cookie.

"Help, how help? What kind of help?" Donnie stood, walking toward him.

"Oh, Mikey," Leo groaned, running a hand down his face. "Please tell me you didn't,"

"Well I know how you can get sometimes, Don, so I sent it to Y/n, incase you got cold feet-"

Mikey didn't get to finish as Donnie was out of the room, hastily grabbing his glasses and rushing through the lair.

"Donnie! Wait, it's the middle of the day!" Leo called after him, but he didn't stop.

He rushed through the tunnels, ignoring the sleep still clinging to his arms and legs. He nearly tripped several times but he couldn't stop, his feet propelled forward.

He wouldn't chicken out. He was going to give it to you tonight, and hopefully not ruin this year's Christmas.

He finally saw the manhole cover and ladder, he feet slowing, chest heaving as he walked closer. When he got within 20 feet of the ladder, the manhole cover moved, and your form came down.

"Y/n." Donnie mentally smacked himself, it was clear why you were here.

You jumped, not expecting him to be right there. Your eyes and nose were red, and not just from the cold: you were crying.

"Hi," You peeped, clutching the scrapbook to your side.

"I can explain," He took a step for forward, sorting through the words to tell you. "I....I....uh, you-"

"Did you mean it?" You interrupt, voice thick, eyes glossy: it broke his heart. "Did you mean all the stuff you wrote in this?"

"Yeah, I did." He swallowed, his throat now very dry.

"And you still feel these things?" You took the scrapbook out, looking down at it in your hands.

"Yes, I do," He inhaled sharply, praying the tears forming in his eyes wouldn't fall. "I'm sorry if I misread-"

"You didn't," You quickly interrupt, a tear falling down your face. "You didn't misread anything...I love you too,"

You rushed forward, opening your arms wide. He exhaled heavily, crouching down and lifting you into his arms. You pressed the side of your face against his, closing your eyes.

One of his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground, the other tangling in your hair, afraid if you moved you'd disappear.

"You really love me?" He whispers, against your wet cheek.

"I do," You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you,"

"I love you too,"

💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @strawberrycakeblog

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #thanks for the ask!#tmnt stocking stuffers

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universitypenguin · 1 year

Text

Part 10

The Princess & the Lawyer

Author’s Note: I know this chapter was a very long wait, but it just wouldn’t come together how I wanted. However, with a lot of elbow grease (and a ton of revisions) it finally took shape. Part 11 is written and will post on Jan. 24, 2023.

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,959

Warnings: The flight delay from hell. Contains mention of masochism and sadism (non-explicit), as well as dominance and bondage. Depiction of mental suffering due to guilt and remorse. Explicit discussion of murder.

Part 10

“Attention in the terminal… Attention in the terminal…”

The loudspeaker crackled as the announcer waited for the traveler’s attention.

“Passengers on flight QR327, from Doha to London. We have encountered a significant delay. Due to volcanic eruptions off the coast of Yemen, there is a significant amount of ash in the atmosphere. Because of low visibility we cannot authorize any departures. Please see the desk agent for further assistance.”

Lloyd tilted his head back and groaned.

“Fucking hell.”

“It could be worse,” you said. “At least we’re not stuck in Singapore.”

“Point taken. I’ll call Zach.”

“I’ll see if I can find out anything more from the ticket agent.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Lloyd said dryly.

“Pessimist. All it takes is a little charm.”

He headed to the wall of windows overlooking the terminal and leaned against the stone column. Zach picked up on the third ring.

“Hey. You’ll never guess what’s happened.”

Zach laughed once he’d heard the explanation. “Yeah. There are volcanoes all over the gulf. Most of them are dormant, but isn’t that what they said about Mount St. Helen?”

“Dormant isn’t the same thing as extinct,” Lloyd said.

“I’m looking up hotels for you.” Keys tapped in the background. “Uh… well, that’s inconvenient.”

“What?”

“There are eight different conferences in town. The hotels are booked. Let me see…”

More keyboard clicks.

“I have an airbnb, is that good for you?”

“We’ll take it. Text me the address,” Lloyd said.

He hung up and ordered a car service. You were waiting with the luggage. When he approached, you offered a sheepish smile.

“The charm offensive was a total fail. Did you have better luck?”

“Zach got us an airbnb. The hotels are booked.”

“That’s what the desk agent is learning,” you said.

He picked up the strap of your heavy laptop bag and slipped it over his shoulder.

“Our car is here. Let’s go.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The car took another familiar turn and Lloyd tensed. He definitely recognized this street.

They’d expanded the road into the neighborhood and re-landscaped around the front gate, which had disguised it at first. But a nasty sense of familiarity kicked in as they navigated the streets of the gated neighborhood. When they exited the second curve of the roundabout, he was certain of their destination.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

The driver pulled up to the pristine white villa and stopped, waiting as the wrought iron gate swung open.

“Wow. Zach really picked a great spot,” you murmured.

“He owns it.”

“Really? Uh… not to be rude, but how can he afford this?”

“It belonged to his ex-wife. He must have gotten it in the divorce.”

“Well, it’s nice of him to lend us his Airbnb.”

Lloyd ground his teeth. “Yeah. Nice…”

He tipped the chauffeur and turned down his help with the bags. Shouldering the luggage himself, Lloyd climbed the stairs. At the top he paused, staring ahead at the double doors at the end of the hall. Looking at them made him feel as if he were standing on the edge of a very high cliff, where the atmosphere lacked enough oxygen to saturate his blood.

Lloyd dragged his eyes away and put the bags in the guest room farthest from the master suite.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A wave of ash arrived the next day, obscuring the sun as the volcano in Yemen continued to erupt. It turned the air toxic and made stepping outside for even a few minutes burn your eyes and lungs. The eclipse of ash-clouds blocked out the sun and seemed to turn Lloyd’s mood dark as well.

You avoided him. There were enough fumes in the air without getting too close to the toxic cloud hanging over him. After breakfast you explored the property. In the basement you discovered a gym and an unused subterranean garage. The ground floor had a living room at the front of the house, a kitchen and dining room, and a large study with a half bath. The second floor held three guestrooms and a master suite.

The most interesting discovery you made was at the center of the house. After touring all three levels, you’d realized the upper floors weren’t as large as they ought to be. It was like the builder had made them hollow. You also noticed that some of the guest rooms had windows where it shouldn’t have been possible to put a window. You looked through one and found a lush garden filled with jungle plants. Squinting down at the foliage you saw rows of pygmy date palms and if you weren’t mistaken, the brightly colored, lobster-claw shaped flowers of a Heliconia plant.

How could Lloyd not have mentioned this?!

You nearly flew down the stairs and searched for the entrance with the energy of a sugar high toddler on their way to Disneyland. When you found it in the narrow hallway off the butler’s pantry, you threw open the door and squealed. The air was untainted by the stench of ash. Looking up, you saw glass. Suddenly the unusual design of the house made sense.

The villa was hollow, and the courtyard was a solarium.

Walking through the solarium lifted your spirits considerably. Its pebbled paths reminded you of the botanical gardens back home. The humid scent of water drew you onward, searching for its source. Based on the species living in the garden, some exotic water plant, like a giant water lily or a blue lotus, might be just around the corner.

Rounding another bend in the path you stopped short. It wasn’t a rare plant that surprised you, but the unexpectedness of finding a swimming pool in this quasi-jungle that sent you into a fit of giggles.

“Was Lloyd hiding this for himself?” you murmured. “Rude.”

In front of the pool, the path widened and turned into a patio with green and white striped tile. There was an array of lounge chairs by the pool and a wrought iron table, big enough for six people, in the middle of the patio. The pool was about four times as long as it was wide, designed like a swim lane. You dipped your hand in the water and smiled at its warmth. So, they’d created a heated pool that doubled as a humidifier for the jungle plants. Clever.

If you won the lottery, you were going to buy this place from Zach.

“Princess! Are you out here?”

Lloyd’s voice boomed through the solarium, shattering your peaceful moment.

“Yeah!”

“Well, get in here. We have a team meeting on Zoom in ten minutes.”

You sighed and folded your arms across your chest, wishing you could dive into the pool and play hooky. If Lloyd was in a better mood, you probably could’ve gotten away with it. But he was pacing around the house like a caged tiger. Ever since you arrived he’d been acting like a different person. Last night he hadn’t come to bed. He’d spent all night and all morning pacing around the living room with his headphones in, listening to the audio of Nguyen’s interview on repeat.

The team meeting was a disaster. This was hardly a surprise, given Lloyd’s foul temper. He was rude, condescending, harsh, and abrupt. No idea was good enough for him. As the meeting dragged on he shifted from insulting to passive aggressive.

Now, there were things you could handle. Direct confrontation was fine. Being raised with five siblings wasn’t the most peaceful environment to grow up in. Your ability to strike back was nearly as keen as your ability to smooth over a conflict, but passive aggressiveness was your kryptonite. It sent you back to middle school, when sarcasm and waspishness suddenly became every pre-teen girl’s default setting.

“Well, that’s not fucking helpful, now is it?!”

Lloyd hissed at Zach over the screen as you shrank into the couch.

“And what have you found that’s helpful?” Zach snapped.

“Guys, settle down,” Landon said.

“You’re all fucking useless!”

“Lloyd…”

You spoke quietly, so the microphone on the computer wouldn’t pick up the reprimand. He was so wrapped up in his tantrum that he didn’t hear.

“Nguyen gave us something in this transcript, we just have to find it!”

“Take your lithium salts, asshole, ‘cause the voices in your head are talking again!”

“Eat shit, Zach!”

“You need to calm down.”

You rubbed your temples, biting back a groan.

“Shut up, you’re giving Princess a headache.”

Zach raised his eyebrows. “Am I? Or are you?”

“I am not in a bad mood, you’re just incompetent!”

“You’re acting like a honey badger that woke up on the wrong side of the bed. This entire meeting is a waste of time. We should quit while we’re ahead.”

“We aren’t ahead! We’ve found jack shit so far!”

“How can we, when you’re in full-on bitch mode?” Zach snapped.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Has anyone considered why the doctor never pointed to someone else as a suspect, if he was innocent?” Jake asked.

“He’s not fucking innocent! I swear, he said something incriminating, I can almost put my finger on it. If anyone would like to help with that task…”

Jake held up his hands in surrender.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Landon sighed. “Okay. Let’s call it. We’re not getting anything done, and it’s turned into a shit show. Everyone has copies of the video. We’ll split up and review them on our own. And until both of you are in a better frame of mind, don’t even think about speaking to each other.”

Lloyd grunted, crossing his arms and his legs and looking away. Zach grunted and ducked his head.

You resisted the urge to tell Lloyd that he looked like a sulking Buttercup from the Powerpuff Girls cartoon. The posture, the squint of his eyes as they narrowed, and even the twist of his frown, bore an uncanny resemblance.

You signed off the video call, and without saying a word, walked to the kitchen and through the butler’s pantry. Stepping into the solarium was a relief. Even with the cloud of ash overhead, this was the brightest spot in the house. Being around so many plants was like an oasis. You returned to the pool, lay down on a lounge chair, and waited.

It didn’t take long. Gravel crunched, signaling Lloyd’s approach. The crunching stopped and then there was a long silence before Lloyd spoke.

“I’m sorry for being obnoxious.”

You didn’t reply.

“I said, ‘I’m sorry’…”

Gravel shifted as Lloyd shuffled his feet.

“Are you going to ignore me?”

“Probably,” you said.

“Why?”

“Because Zach was right - you’re acting like a honey badger and itching for a fight. I’d rather not get my head bitten off, if it’s all the same to you.”

He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“If you want to talk about whatever is bothering you, I’ll be here. But if you think for a second that I’ll be your verbal punching bag, you’re going to end up in the pool with your clothes on.”

Lloyd snorted. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing on the path a few feet back from the edge of the patio tiles.

He looked haggard, and more rumpled than you’d ever seen him. With his hands tucked in his pockets, he looked almost like a child trapped in a grown man’s body.

“I am sorry,” he said, shuffling his feet again.

You beckoned him over. He crossed the patio and even though you made room for him, walked around to the next lounge chair.

“Lloyd, just tell me what’s going on. I’ve never seen you this stressed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Silence fell. You could hear the sound of Lloyd’s breathing. His exhalations came too fast, and his inspirations were too shallow. From under your lashes, you watched him. Why was it suddenly so hard to read him?

“I’ve been here before. I was…” Lloyd broke off. “I’d rather not explain.”

The perplexing statement was as much of a puzzle as his behavior. It moved you no closer to understanding his mood. Did ‘before’ refer to his time in the private sector, or in intelligence? It was probably the latter, given that Zach owned the house.

You had even more questions. Asking them outright wouldn’t accomplish anything with Lloyd. Information was coaxed out of him, not pried.

He shook his head and stood up. “I’m going to listen to the audiotape.”

“Okay. What do you want for dinner? I was thinking of ordering in. There are some great Lebanese restaurants around here.”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

Lloyd put his earbuds in and paced around like a caged animal for the rest of the day. If you’d considered him surly before, now he was an absolute bear. The fight with Zach and his halting almost-a-revelation-but-not-really wound him even tighter. You took refuge in the study where there were two extra monitors and an HDMI cable. With a better work station and some peace away from Lloyd you had a productive afternoon.

The rest of the night was spent avoiding Lloyd. He moved through the house like a black cloud, scowling, muttering, slamming doors, and swearing. You watched in near disbelief as he descended into fits of anger the likes of which you’d never seen before. It wasn’t that you felt threatened, but that Lloyd’s blood pressure was becoming a significant concern.

You ordered from a nearby restaurant and ate at the desk in the guest room. Thumps and thuds could be heard from the basement two floors below. Lloyd claimed he was having a workout, but it sounded more like he was throwing weights at the wall. You put your head down on the desk and moaned.

Another crash. Bang! You covered your ears.

When the noise stopped, you reached for your phone, and toggled to contacts. Your thumb hovered on Zach’s name.

Should you call him? Or wait?

If anyone would know why Lloyd was acting strangely, it would be him. The only clue you had was that a past visit to this house had triggered his emotional disturbance. Zach might be able to fill in the blanks… but Lloyd hated being talked about behind his back.

You put the phone down and pulled your knees up to your chest, staring at the device, and second guessing your decision. It lit up and buzzed. Snatching it up, you saw a text from Jake.

Can you talk right now?

You called him immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Have you checked the messages from your stalker?”

“No. Why?”

“Because they’ve taken a weird turn. He’s gone from horror movie quotes and slasher pics to personal.”

Your hand went to the base of your throat. The extra pressure helped ground you enough that you could breathe.

“What do you mean? What’s he saying?”

“It’s like he’s noticed he isn’t getting a reaction from you, so he’s stepping up the pressure. He’s being… specific…”

“Jake! Tell me what he said!”

“He sent photos of your apartment building. One taken during the day, another at night. I checked the metadata, and it was edited. All I could get was a GPS location and the time he created the file.”

You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on the desk and breathed.

“The photo was taken on July 18th,” Jake said.

“That’s last week! The messages didn’t start until a few days ago!”

“Did you notice anyone following you? Or anything out of place, at home, at work, or anywhere else?”

Your heart raced as you recalled the feeling of being watched in the park at Sam’s birthday party. Jake’s photo was from three days before. Had it taken you that long to feel the eyes tracking you?

“The day of my nephew’s birthday party is when I felt like someone was watching me. If the data from the photo is right…” You swallowed hard. “Someone was following me for days… and I didn’t notice…”

“Hey. It’s not like you could expect this sort of thing to happen, okay?” Jake’s soothing voice held an undercurrent of steel. “The first phone call was at your nephew’s birthday, too. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we should bring Landon in on this as soon as possible. I want him to review the messages and see if he can make a profile of the person behind them.”

“We don’t need a profile. It’s Aiden.”

Jake was silent. The pause stretched for several seconds.

“You’re absolutely sure it’s him?”

“Yes. No one else has a reason to mess with me.”

“Was he ever possessive? Did he show up without letting you know he was coming by? Or text you incessantly?”

“No, but that was before, when he had a job and a social life. This isn’t like him at all. I think it has to do with being fired.”

“As soon as I can get Landon alone, I’ll bring him up to speed.”

“Thanks, Jake.”

“I’m glad I can help. One more thing. The phone number you asked me to track? It’s been in California for two weeks.”

“Where in California?”

“Pebble Beach golf course. The phone has mostly been switched off, or left in a hotel room, for the past ten days.”

“I can’t imagine living like that.”

Jake laughed, but it was forced. “Well, the good news is that this morning the phone pinged off a tower near the airport in San Francisco.”

“I really appreciate all you’ve done.”

“Do you appreciate it enough to tell Lloyd what’s going on?”

“I know I have to tell him at some point, but I just can’t. Not right now.”

“Point taken. He must be a nightmare. That video call was intense,” Jake said.

“It’s like having a grizzly bear in the living room. Right now, I’d rather walk over broken glass barefoot than tell him about Aiden. It would send him through the roof.”

“Maybe it should.”

“Nothing productive was ever accomplished in a fit of rage.”

“You’ve never seen Lloyd enraged.”

“Uh… were we on the same video call this morning?”

Jake laughed, and this time it was genuine. “No. Uh-uh. That’s not rage, that’s bad temper. He’s irritated. Lloyd Hansen in a fit of rage is a lot more action oriented. Trust me.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day, Lloyd’s bad temper worsened. He went from slamming weights around in the basement and stalking through the house like a caged animal into something darker.

He was distant and remote and he’d become paranoid. There was a piece of clear tape across the seam of the front door at ankle height. Lloyd checked it frequently. He examined the security cameras footage on his phone every fifteen minutes. And he would hardly let you out of his sight.

Finally, you broke down and called Zach. He groused about Lloyd’s bitchiness and the horrible team meeting, suggesting that his ex-teammate needed to “pull his head out of his ass.”

You lost your nerve when you heard Lloyd approaching. His feet crunched on the gravel path through the solarium and then stopped. You felt his eyes on you for a moment. Without speaking, he turned around and went back the way he’d come.

Lloyd didn’t speak all day. He listened to the audio of Dr. Nguyen’s interview over and over, walking laps around the house and through the solarium.

By nightfall, the scenario was unchanged. A strategic retreat was in order. You found a package of chocolate chip cookies in the pantry and took it upstairs. Was it a good idea to eat cookies for dinner? No. Did you care? Not today. When the stomach ache from excessive sugar hit, you might care. But that was hours away.

For the second night in a row, you ate at the guest room desk, avoiding Lloyd.

Your mind wandered back to the situation with Aiden. Why hadn’t you gotten a return phone call today? The person you’d been trying to contact must have flown home from Pebble Beach today. Their lack of response was wearing on your already frayed nerves.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He’d never had a midnight therapy appointment before.

Lloyd deeply resented this new low, which some godforsaken volcano in the Arabian Sea had brought him to. It was day three of the flight delay and Mount Zubair continued to cough up smoke.

Dr. Blair appeared on screen. He wore a tweed blazer and denim shirt, no necktie. As far as Lloyd had seen the man didn’t own any ties.

“Good morning, Lloyd.”

“Good afternoon, for you.”

Blair smiled. “So it is. How are things going? I heard you’re stuck in the Gulf.”

“Yeah. It sucks. I hate it.”

“Tell me about it.”

Lloyd explained.

He had a policy about therapy, or at least, about therapy with Dr. Blair. The aging psychotherapist was the only person with whom Lloyd allowed himself to be completely honest. For his own peace of mind, he’d dug into the doctor’s background prior to enlisting his services. He knew almost everything about him and he trusted the doctor’s discretion.

With brief facts, Lloyd detailed the trip to Singapore, the confrontations with Pruitt and Gentry, and the volcano.

“And now, I’m stuck in Doha… at Zach’s villa.”

Dr. Blair cocked his head. “This is the same villa where-”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been there?”

“Two days. Well, three days, as of eight minutes ago.”

“How does being there make you feel?”

“Restless. Angry… Nauseous.”

“That’s a lot of emotions for you. Particularly all at once.”

Lloyd ran a hand over his jaw.

“What’s your sleep schedule been like?”

“I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Are you alone, or is your co-worker stuck with you?”

“She’s here,” Lloyd said.

“I see.” Dr. Blair picked up his pen and made a note. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s avoiding me, and I can’t blame her. I’ve been…”

He searched for the right word, and the one that came to mind surprised him.

“Ruminating. I can’t stop.”

Blair nodded. His placid expression irritated Lloyd.

“What does the restlessness feel like? Is that what’s been keeping you awake?”

“Yes… No… Maybe. I don’t know. I’m out of control.”

“Have you had any instances of aggression or violence?”

“I chewed out my private investigatory team on a video call. Zach told me to get fucked and that he wouldn’t be calling back until I pulled my head out of my ass.”

“So aggression isn’t working out for you.”

“I know it won’t,” Lloyd protested. “But I can’t seem to stop it. There’s no coping in this house. I feel like I’m being chased by a ghost. Having Princess here makes it worse.”

The doctor nodded slowly. “Chased by a ghost….”

His words were neutral, but tinged with curiosity. Lloyd sighed.

“I remember being here and… what I did. I regret it.” A bitter laugh bubbled up out of nowhere, taking him off guard.

“Why is your regret amusing?” Dr. Blair asked.

Lloyd didn’t let himself consider his words before he spoke.

“Because there are so many other things I should regret. On the list of my wrongs, this isn’t even a crime. But it makes me feel like a monster more than any of those other things. To be in this house and know I’m the same person who was here, ten years ago, doing… that...”

“I know the story, Lloyd. It’s what you talked about under hypnosis.”

“Huh?”

Blair had never revealed the topics they’d discussed when Lloyd was hypnotized. It has been two and a half years and the topic had never come up. The doctor sat back and took off his glasses, twirling them by the earpiece.

“When I got your message and realized where you were, I had a feeling this was where the session would go.”

“What did I say under hypnosis?”

“That you scared yourself. That you were a monster. As I worked backwards, trying to understand the subconscious roots of that belief, you began telling me about the villa in Doha. It became clear that what happened there not only formed a core belief, but that event put the first real crack in your self-image. I would go as far as saying it planted the seed that led to your decision to rehabilitate.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Can you describe the events that transpired in that house ten years ago for me, right now?”

Silence hung in the air tense and heavy. He swallowed hard and felt his throat go dry. Rather than speak, he shook his head.

“I understand. You’ve always assigned the mental break you felt to being imprisoned. I agree it tore down your self-image and allowed you to change. But there was a much older crack in that image. One your conscious mind wouldn’t allow you to speak of.”

“Reva.”

Lloyd said the name and felt his eyes lower. His lips curled and pressed together as a wave of sadness draped itself around him.

“Is any of that anger you feel directed at Zach Hightower? Perhaps that’s what led to your outburst on the call?”

“No. He isn’t responsible for this. Zach may have kicked off the chain of events but I came here willingly.”

“No, you didn’t. You went because you felt like you had to keep up your image as a sadistic psychopath.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You’re very honest in hypno-therapy. Can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Go for it.”

“Did you ever practice sexual sadism before your relationship with Reva?”

“No.”

“Did you enjoy it, as a fantasy or a daydream?”

“Not really. Mild stuff, I guess. But nothing I did in the field intersected with my sexual preferences.”

“Did you know that for certain?” Dr. Blair asked.

Lloyd hesitated. “I was afraid it would. Which is why I never experimented with it.”

“With sexual sadism? Or bondage entirely?”

“All of it. Bondage, dominance, sadism. Masochism never appealed. I’d have noticed pretty quickly if I had that kink, considering everything my father did to me.”

“Tell me more about the feeling of being haunted. You’ve used that as a metaphor in sessions before, but it’s coming across as more concrete, the way you’re describing it now.”

Lloyd sighed. “I feel like that person - me, ten years ago - is in the house with us. It’s as if he’s going to sneak up and jump on my back any minute.”

“That sounds dreadful.”

“It is.”

“Have you shared any of this with Princess?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because… we’re sleeping together. We aren’t in a relationship, it’s just as friends.”

Dr. Blair sat up. Lloyd could see his attention focus like a hawk sighting a mouse.

“And how has that affected your emotions?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Do you really think her presence doesn’t enhance your reaction?”

Lloyd rubbed his damp palms over his thighs. “Alright. Yes. You’re right. I wouldn’t find it as disturbing if I were alone. The fact that she’s here… it makes me… anxious.”

“Why?”

“What if I do to her what I did to Reva?”

“Is Princess open to sadism?” Dr. Blair asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know!”

“Why not?”

“I can’t handle hearing that she is, so I don’t ask. I mean, she’s probably not. But on the off chance she is… I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Would you feel you had to, if she asked?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you feel so much guilt over torturing Reva? Despite her enjoyment of the scene?”

Goosebumps rose on Lloyd’s arms.

“I didn’t realize that my persona was a mask until Reva. I hadn’t suspected I wasn’t like my father, at least not sexually. There was no pleasure for me in her pain. Other people? Terrorists and criminals? That I could derive some enjoyment of. But my behavior was more about making sure everyone around me saw me as dangerous. That the mask kept them away.”

“That’s an interesting insight. Perhaps what you’re really afraid of here is that if Princess finds out about Reva, she’ll see behind the mask too.”

Lloyd’s breath caught. He felt lightheaded and distant, as if he’d been knocked out of his body.

“Fuck. What should I do?”

“The only way out of this is to cut straight to the core. Either you tell her the truth or you continue the downward spiral.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd dragged himself up the stairs. He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep after a therapy session like that, but exhaustion was wearing him down. On the bright side, the exhaustion was slowing his restless thoughts. He counted it as a win.

You were sound asleep. He changed in the bathroom to avoid waking you. When he climbed into bed, you didn’t even stir. Lloyd stared at your features, relaxed in sleep. If he told you what he’d done, would you understand? Or would it would revolt you?

Would you be afraid? Reva was the only innocent person he’d tortured. She was also the only one who’d asked for the service… and had enjoyed it. He supposed that was the major difference. It had disturbed him to see pleasure on someone’s face instead of fear.

Lloyd pushed away the thoughts and focused on your face. He directed his thoughts to a more pleasant memory - his first time with you. Slowly, his muscles relaxed. He thought of you in the shower in Singapore, of the gentle way you’d touched him. He reveled in the memory. Blair was right. He should come clean and lay it all out there. Let the chips fall where they may.

Yeah, right.

There was a better chance of the Detroit Lions managing a double-digit winning streak than of him confessing. He’d rather suffer than lose you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Next - Part XI

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Masterlist

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frozenwolftemplar · 9 months

Text

Writer's Month Day 18: Free

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (Netflix)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,730 (just dawned on me to include this, lol)

Summary: Carmen and Player have some time to themselves before meeting up with the others, and Player has a fit of inspiration for a fun way to spend it. After all, a park lawn presently being watered by sprinklers is basically an open invitation.

Author's Note: Someone in this fandom (not sure who) formed the headcanon that Player takes a gap year when he turns 18 and travels the world with Carmen; this fic makes use of that. Happy readng!

+++

“So:” Player didn’t look up from his phone as he walked, tapping and swiping through windows with practiced speed. “Shadowsan should get here later this evening, and Ivy and Zach tomorrow. Their ACME job just wrapped up in Seoul, so they’re good to hit an early flight first thing. Provided the plane leaves as scheduled, they should touch down sometime around ten-thirty, we all swing by the hotel to drop their stuff off, and then we should be good to get started on some sightseeing. Sound good?”

Merry lines crinkled around Carmen’s eyes as she looked over at Player, walking alongside her. He used the same clipped efficiency she remembered from the briefings that flowed through her comms before countless capers back when they were taking down VILE, and hearing it again caused something warm and comfortable to stir in her chest.

Was this what nostalgia felt like?

“Red?”

At the verbal nudge, Carmen blinked back to the mostly-empty park they were walking through and met his questioning look with a grin. “Perfect. It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

“Who, me?” Player blinked up at her- he’d grown taller since she first saw him in-person, but she still had a good two or three inches on him- with obviously feigned innocence. “An expert in booking flights and scheduling rendezvous? What do I look like, some kind of tech genius to an incurable globetrotter who still can’t figure out how to book her own airline tickets?”

Carmen chuckled. “Something like that. And hey,” his footsteps broke out of their steady rhythm as she nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “I’m getting there. I booked our tickets to Osaka myself, didn’t I? And the train tickets to Matsumoto?”

He answered with an impressively flat look.

“Okay,” she amended. “Mostly by myself.” Because no matter that she was the one operating the touchpad and clicking the appropriate buttons, the feat would have been impossible without Player perched next to her in the hotel, coaching her through each screen and patiently pointing out where to click.

“That’s more like it. But hey, a few more cities, and you’ll be a pro. Maybe not as good as me, of course...”

Carmen huffed a laugh.“I can live with that. You said we’ve got time before meeting up with Shadowsan?”

Back down to the phone Player dove, pulling up and scrolling through windows with a speed Carmen’s eyes never could keep up with. “Just checking for any delays or traffic slow-downs...” he muttered as Carmen, at the rapid pattering of a jogger coming up behind them, took ahold of his elbow and steered him onto the grass (they’d already nearly been bowled over by her twice and what kind of master thief nearly had the same accident three times?).

“About half an hour.” Player slid the phone back into his pocket, matching his stride to hers as they stepped back onto the pavement.

Carmen hummed thoughtfully. Not much time, relatively speaking, but after a couple of months traveling together, they’d gotten remarkably good at making the most of even the briefest length of time. “We can work with that. Anything you want to-”

A sharp hissing sound cut her off. They both stopped and looked towards sprawling emerald-green lawn the path bordered, where an army of sprinkler heads had just popped out of the ground and were busily filling the air with misty plumes of droplets, sprayed out in wide, sweeping arcs over the grass. Player whipped towards Carmen, grinning wide, eyes alight with a sudden idea.

Carmen tilted her head in confusion, brow arched in incomprehension. They were just sprinklers, nothing to get excited about.

“It’s a hot day,” he said in a leading tone, nodding towards the lawn. “Want to cool off a bit?”

Carmen blinked.

....He couldn’t be serious.

Her confusion must have showed (not that it would have made a difference if it didn’t; she’d never cease to be amazed by just how well he could read her), because now he was looking at her with disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’ve never ran through sprinklers?”

“Uh...no?” Carmen looked over his shoulder at the grass being subjected to a localized rain shower, brows furrowed. Run *through* them? Was this a Canadian thing?

“Seriously?” Player looked at her quizzically. “No one, like, ever set up sprinklers to water the Academy lawns?”

She shrugged flippantly. “Never needed to. It rained a lot.”

“And your mom?”

“Artificial turf. She said she gave up on grass a long time ago.” Because apparently, grass did not mix with dozens of kids stampeding over it day in and day out for a decade plus.

”Uh-huh...” Player nodded slowly, letting her answer sink in. The second it did a grin burst across his face, impossibly wide and bright enough to cause Carmen to fight a squint. “Then this is perfect! I can finally show you something cool!”

The uncomprehending brow was arched higher. “Niagra Falls doesn’t count?” Because from where she stood, thousands of gallons of water rushing over a cataract was definitely a more impressive sight than urban lawn care.

“That’s different.” Player waved a hand, brushing aside one of the natural wonders of the world like it was as pedestrian as a rain puddle. “This is a summertime tradition. Every kid does it at least once. You *have* to. It’s the rule.”

A smirk answered him. “Even if I got hung up on rules-“ (they both knew she still didn’t), “I’m pretty sure they don’t apply here. I’m twenty-two.”

Player shrugged, unbothered by the technicality that was age. “So? Better late than never.” He crossed his arms and looked at her archly. “Don’t tell me the great Carmen Sandiego is afraid of getting a little wet?”

Carmen huffed through her nose. “Of course not.”

“Then...?”

“It’s just...” she chewed her lip, rolling her eyes upwards, away from his quietly expectant face to search the cloudless sky for words, then shrugged lamely. ”I’m just not used to doing ‘kid stuff?’” A pathetic answer, she knew, especially since she knew Player knew what an average day at the orphanage looked like for her, but playing tag with the kids in her mom’s yard or even Marco Polo with Zach and Ivy at a hotel pool (an old mainstay during their travels, one she’d never tired of and was frankly looking forward to once they finished sightseeing tomorrow and returned to the hotel; now that Player was here, they were going to try teams) just felt...different from what Player was proposing.

She supposed VILE was to blame for her hesitation, at least partway. She *was not* a part of them, but their old lessons were still a part of her, from protecting the face to perfecting the featherlight touch that was a master of stealth’s perennial pride to more delicate lessons in criminal comportment, memories tinted with the posh, perfumed scent of Cleo’s classroom. A professional thief, per the haughty echo that still rang in the back of her thoughts, always carried themselves with dignity while out in the field, a mantle of aloofness that precluded any unsavory questions from passers-by being an indispensable part of any outfit. Accordingly, when she’d taken up her own mission of bringing VILE to its knees, her modus operandi had, by habit, included the attitude of abstaining from any public displays of spectacle.

So, yes, VILE had a hand in her hesitation, but...not fully. Part of her sensed that even if she had grown up as her father intended, ignorant of them and away from their clutches, she’d still be wearing the mantle, albeit out of nature. She just...wasn’t that sort of person, she supposed, to spontaneously run through sprinklers in a public park, saving those indulgences in ‘kid stuff’ for more private venues; a mirror of sorts to how Zach and Ivy never did share her enjoyment of high-class galas (both far preferring the street fair fundraisers they frequented back in San Diego which, she could admit, held their own charms).

Player’s expression softened as he listened between the lines. “I get it, Red, but look around.” She obediently did, scanning the park in all of a second. The day, even as it slid towards evening, was too hot for most people to brave the outdoors, and the only person in sight that same laser-focused jogger who had eyes only for the pavement speeding under her Reeboks.

Player followed Carmen’s gaze as she tracked the woman and, in answer to her knotting brows: “I doubt she’d notice.”

Carmen didn't. True, the woman had proven to have commendable tunnel vision, but two definitely-not-kids running through sprinklers making a spectacle would likely be the exact sort of occurrence that would *force* her to take notice of her surroundings.

Hence her opinion remained unchanged: no way

But when she looked back at Player with a disagreement on her lips he was holding out a hand, hopeful, eager. “Please, Red? It’s fun...”

She supposed she should be embarrassed at how little it took for her to capitulate to puppy-dog-eyes and an enticing sing-song, but, well, what else could she do when such a request came from her best friend? And, well, when she looked at the sprinklers, still chkk chkk chkk-ing away, the sound oddly enticing, she couldn’t ignore the fact that a part of her really did want to.

She offered one final rebuttal, but the smirk curving the words robbed it of any purpose beyond their old, familiar banter. “I doubt getting soaking wet in your clothes is fun.”

"Oh, just wait."

The second she set her hand in his, he tightened his grip and bolted onto the lawn, darting through the jets of water and dragging her after him. Droplets laughed against her skin, splashing and tickling her with a cool so sudden she gasped. Then the laughter was seeping into her, causing a light, tripping feeling to bubble up in her chest. Ahead of her, Player tugged left, taking Carmen in a zig zag path, not missing a jet of water, laughing loud as she shrieked at each spray they crashed through, the giddy, wheeling sensation in her chest at last spilling over into a rush, wild and without reserve, of girlish giggles.

The sound spurring him on, Player banked sharp to a right, heading for a sprinkler head whose fan shaped plume was arcing high, unfurling straight into the air. A wild light blazed in Carmen's eyes as she saw his intention, and she summoned a burst of speed so she was no longer being dragged behind him, but running alongside, then ahead, strides long and pounding as she gathered herself and leaped through the spray, elegant and unfettered to cause the roe envy. She kept her speed as she landed, heading for the next jet to the soundtrack of Player racing not terribly far behind, whooping in a way she hadn’t heard before and cheering with abandon as she flew, arms spread out wide behind her, through spray after joyous spray, a wilding set free.

Crud, she would always be amazed at how good it felt to just play, no constraining rules or machinations for victory; no confining chessboard or suits of diamonds or spades to pen you in; just her and Player running through sprinklers, getting absolutely soaked for the fun of it. It was exhilarating in a way the capers never had been.

“There!” Player, bangs dripping into his eyes, laughed when they at last came to a stop on the far side of the lawn. “Told you it was fun!”

Carmen pushed a tendril behind her ear. “Yeah,” she panted, grinning wide, a lightness somersaulting joyously in her chest. Really, it was more than fun; she couldn’t explain how, but the sensation of racing through the jets coupled with the feel of her decidedly damp shirt clinging to her skin was oddly freeing, unlatching a door inside her she hadn’t realized had been shut and loosing all manner of coltish, frolicsome impulses she never knew were hidden inside her. She grinned slyly over at Player. “But you know what would be more fun?” Not giving him time to answer, she tapped him on the head. ”Tag!”

“Wha-“ he blinked after her as she bolted through the sprinklers again, fleet as the wind and completely heedless of the jets, shouting, over her shoulder, “You’re it!”

For a moment he stared, wondering how in the world Carmen, who’d needed an explanation for ‘Simon says’ when her mom asked her to lead the littler kids in a game, knew what ‘tag’ was (the possibility of Shadowsan teaching her back on the Island both did and did not make sense), then threw off contemplation in favor of, with a cry of “La Femme Rogue!” that would have had Zach and Ivy in stitches and Julia trying very hard not to be, taking off after Carmen.

“You will not escape this time!”

Such a bold statement very nearly came true as his quarry nearly doubled over laughing as she stumbled to a stop, hands wrapped around her middle (crud, that was a terrible impression).

“Ah ha! She has a weakness!”

“Not fair!” Carmen panted as she straightened and resumed running, albeit with a smaller gap between pursuant and pursuer than before.

“All’s fair in- WHOA!”

Proving that even in imitation she held the advantage over her old adversary, Carmen pivoted on a dime so Player’s reaching hand armed with ‘Tag!’ completely missed its mark and, being propelled by its owner’s momentum, proceeded to cause said owner to topple towards the ground. Player hastily tried to correct his balance, slow his fall, and regain footing in the slick grass, but ultimately his efforts proved futile, seeing him faceplant heavily- Thud! -on the ground.

A candle attacked by a bucket of water was doused slower than the sprightly mood that had glistened over the lawn.

“Player!” Carmen darted to kneel by her friend, breathing heavily but otherwise motionless. She moved to grasp his shoulder to shake, then thought better of it, leaving her hand hovering uncertainly in midair. “Player, I am so sorry, are- can you-“ Crud, she much, *much* preferred being the unconscious one. “Can you even hear me?!?”

“...Red?”

Carmen breathed out a sigh of relief (small relief, he could still be concussed or paralyzed or a dozen other grim possibilities). “Player, thank goodness, are you hurt or-“

“M’fine, Red. Just...”

She bent closer as he trailed off to hear better, completely missing how one of his hands was scuttling towards a sprinkler jet.

“Yeah?”

“YOU’RE IT!”

Grasping the head, Player shoved his thumb over the jet so it sprayed directly at Carmen.

“AUGH!!!” She fell back, spluttering and trying (uselessly) to shield her face from the spray with her hands as Player leapt to his feet, front smeared with mud and grass but eyes wild with fun. “That doesn’t count!” she managed once the water was back on its normal trajectory. “You didn’t tag me!”

“Eh,” Player shrugged, unrepentant. “A technicality. Besides, I thought you didn’t get hung up on rules?”

“Fair point,” Carmen, after some deliberation, conceded with a slow, thoughtful nod. She stood, idly brushing some blades of grass from her thighs. “And since we’re playing that way...”

She glanced up at Player, and he gulped, catching the way the sun snagged on the mischievous glint in Carmen’s eyes. “Uh oh.”

“I’ll give you a head start.”

On her next circuit, the impossible happened and the jogger paused, running in place as she watched the pair frolicking in the sprinklers, the earlier game of Tag having devolved into a tickle fight. A smile blossomed across her face and she turned to a man who had just materialized beside her, also watching the pair. “Nice to see young people enjoying themselves.”

“Yes.” The man nodded his concurrence, the years melting from his weathered face at an especially wild peal from the girl as the boy attacked an unusually ticklish spot on her ribs (no regrets on divulging that secret to him, that was certain). “It most certainly is.”

And none, Shadowsan thought with a grin as the jogger moved on and he turned back the way he came, letting Carmen and Player have this moment to themselves, the laughter frolicking at his heels lifting the corners of his mouth, deserve it more.

#writersmonth2023 #writersmonth #carmen sandiego #player #player bouchard #carmen sandiego 2019 #in which i write #my writing #cs fanfic #cs fics #carmen sandiego fanfiction #carmen fanfic #carmen fic #fanfic

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uwukillmenowowo · 10 days

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𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 [Tokyo Debunker X F!Reader]

[ 9 | Hera's Snakes] 『🐍』

Key's for the story: Insert - Narrative - And then she stared at her reflection in the mirror [Insert] - Author speaking - [Eyyy there- wazzup readers] "Insert" - Talking - "Hey there!" [But can also be air quotes] 'Insert' - Thinking - 'Dame he's cute...' "Insert" - Whispering - "I- I messed up..." [But can also be an emphasis on a word/phrase, or flashback] (Insert) - Inner mind..? - (Deadass doesn't know how to explain it here) *Insert* - Action - *Sighs with their head down*[INSERT] - Magic - [OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!] or [IGGNAIM!]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: [ 8 | Stalker] 『👀』

━━━✦❘༻🔮༺❘✦━━━

[Book 0] The Academy of Ghouls

[Chapter 9] The Anomaly Known As Hera's Snakes.

━━━✦❘༻🔮༺❘✦━━━

{Third POV}

~~~~~

Hm? I don't recognize you. Who are you?" Romeo asked, still pointing his rifle at the pair. "So you're Kaito's jealous pursuer." Luca asked, still under the impression that Kaito actually did have a romantic rival. "Excuse me? What part of this mushroom head could I possible be jealous of?" Romeo asked sternly. "Mushroom Head? Is that your nickname, Kaito?" Luca asked innocently.

"Of course not, he's just being an asshole! Come on, get rid of him!" Luca hummed. "Let me confirm something first. This is your jealous pursuer, correct?" "Yes... I mean... Well..." In return to Kaito's bad lie, Romeo tisked. "That's the backstory you gave me? Is your financial situation so dire you can't come up with plausible lies?" Kaito flinched and stepped back. "What does he mean?" Luca asked.

"Do you really think I, Romeo Scorpius Lucci. Could be jealous of an off-brand man like him? *Hmph* This little toadstool is in my debt. I'm merely collecting what I'm rightfully owed." Romeo then took out a piece of paper and smirked. "Care to see the paperwork?" He mocked Kaito. In return, Kaito ran towards Romeo, desperate to grab the paper. "GIMME THAT!!" He exclaimed, only for Romeo to hold it higher than he can reach.

"Kaito, is this true?" Luca asked. Kaito sweat dropped and was about to answer, but then Romeo grabbed onto a pendent that Kaito was wearing. "How many times do I have to tell you? If you can't pay just hand over this pendant instead!!" "How many times have I gotta tell you, this is the one thing you'll never get from me!!" Kaito yelled before Luca decided to step in, "Let him go."

Romeo and Kaito turned to the transfer student. "Who the hell are you? Did you hear what I just said?" Then, Luca held up a large amount of cash. "Will this suffice?" He asked. Romeo smirked and let go of Kaito, in favor of the cash presented. "50 pound notes, hm? Interesting. They'd better not be counterfeit." Romeo took the money smirking and started counting. "one, two, three, four, five... twenty... the real deal." "Are you serious..?" Kaito asked, jaw wide open.

"You're quite a high-end man. He still owes another 2000 pounds of interest though. Sorry, but this won't buy his freedom." Romeo taunted and tilted Luca's chin up with his index finger. "WHAT?! You never said anything about interest!!" Kaito exclaimed. So Luca's gaze hardened and decided to challenge the claim. "All right. In that case... I'd like another look at that document."

Romeo's smirk fell and he tisked and glared at Luca. "There's nothing worse than a man with a brain..."

{Your POV}

~~~~~

"The ticket gate is closed???" I questioned aloud. I stopped short just before the Galaxy Express platform, unsure of how to get through the gate. A translucent wall with glowing letters blocked my path. "Tap Catsmo?" I read and groaned. "If I had to guess, it'd be an online TTC pass like Presto..." "Meow?!" I flinched and looked down, and screamed a little when a cat appeared out of nowhere. "Meow! meow!" The cat exclaimed and ran off. "Ah! Wait!" When I locked eyed with the cat, it meowed loudly and scampered off towards the main building."

"Oh sugar... Can these cats tell the chancellor where I am?!" Judging by what I'd seen them achieve so far, I could only assume they could... "I've already come this far... there's no turning back now!" I took out my wand and took in a deep breath. "White to red, and red to white. [Doodle Suit!]"

The gate turned into golden particles for a few seconds but as soon as I passed through I couldn't progress any further. "W-What?!" I tried to use doodle suit again but it didn't work. Then a shrill alarm sounded from the platform.

I heard footsteps approaching faster so I gasped and canceled doodle suit of the ticket gate and hid my wand. The alarm stopped and I sighed. "What are you doing?" I yelped and turned around to see Romeo there. Along with Kaito and Luca. "Are you all right?! Is the anomaly here?!" "Eeeeek... Oh god, please let it not be..." I held my hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how to get onto the platform..."

Romeo glared at me and I reminisced the Savanaclaw situation all over again. "I knew it. What are you doing? Why are you wearing Hera's Snakes?" I blinked twice and calm down. "What..? Hera's Snakes?" 'The anomaly?' I couldn't make sense of that sentence, so I just stood there, dumbstruck. "Hera's Snakes..? That's the name of the rogue anomaly!" Luca pointed out and I nodded slowly. "Well, well, well," 'I don't like the smile on Romeo's face...' I thought and sweatdropped. "I didn't think it would come to me. I'll get a good price for this."

All of a sudden Romeo charged at me, rifle in hand. "You can pay back Fuji's interest WITH THIS!" I was about to pull out my wand to use Sleepy kiss but for some reason, the veil started attacking?!? "Eh?!" I cried out and stood still while Romeo dodged.

"GYAAAAAAHHH!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! ARE THOSE TENTACLES?! GROSS!!" Kaito exclaimed while Romeo pointed his rifle. "Did you... aim for my face?" I flinched and immidietly shook my head. "N-N-no! This veil just attacked on it's own I swe-" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I CAN'T STAND EXCUSES! SIH!!" Romeo aimed his rifle and this time I grabbed my wand. But as I was about to cast my spell, Luca interrupted, "[IGGNAIM!]" I gasped because Luca was standing in front of me, arms spread wide.

"What..? The trajectory was accurate, the bullet should have hit... Fine. There's more where that came from!" Another gunshot exploded in my ears but... "What..? Why are my bullets disappearing?!" I furrowed my brows and bit my lip. 'Luca... he's using his special skill." I awed. 'This was nothing like the spells in Twisted Wonderland. The only thing close was Floyd's Bind to the Heart.'

The bullet was clearly heading straight towards us. But the instant before it hit Luca, it vanished, as though swallowed by some invisible force. Luca then turned around and grabbed my shoulders harshly so I winced. "I'll ask you just once. Did you deceive us?" His sharp, crystal-clear gaze bore into me so I answered honestly. "I'm sorry... But I just picked this veil up by coincidence, I swear..."

'I should have been honest with them sooner... I can't keep wearing something this dangerous even if it means they find out who I am...' I thought and grabbed the veil with both hands and pulled. "... H-Huh?!" I started to panic as I pulled harder. "I-I can't get it off!" Luca gasped and back off. No matter how hard I pulled at it, the veil remained stuck fast to my head. "It's stuck... why won't it come off?!" I questioned myself as I pulled even harder.

"All right. Calm down. I believe you." I looked at Luca with wide eyes. "Luca..." "We need to move away from here first. Then we can do something about that veil." Luca reached out his hand to me, and I placed my trembling palm in his unwavering one. "Thank you." I smiled softly.

"Hey! Are you trying to run?! Hand over Hera's Snakes fi-" "LUCAAAAA!!! HEY!! Why are you holding hands with [Y/n]!?!" I bit my lip as Kaito pushed Romeo out of the way and ran over to us. "Don't you dare run off without me!!! I'M!! HER KNIGHT!! IN SHINING ARMOR!!!!" "Kaito?!" I exclaimed, blushing in embarrassment. "Kaito! I want to go somewhere we can regroup and discuss out next move. Could you lead us there?"

"I was going to! Don't order me around! Follow me, [Y/n]!" Kaito proclaimed and started running so we followed.

But while we ran I looked back at Romeo, feeling a bit bad. "Ouch... Hey!! You think you can escape me that easily?!" But then I turned back. Kaito grabbed my other hand, and the three of us ran back the way we'd come.

"Meow! Meow! Meow! Emergency, emergency. A-6622-1,code name "Hera's Snakes", has escaped containment during transportation. It resembles a black veil. It is aggressive, and can change it's size at will. Presumptive class B. If spotted, please alert a staff member or ghoul student immediately."

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: [ 10 | A Ring?] 『💍』

#𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥 #original story #tokyo debunker x reader #twisted wonderland reader

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loneberry · 1 month

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notes on the singing world

youtube

This morning I sat outside on my back porch, drinking my coffee at 7:30am, soaking up the early sun. There was peace in my heart, a peace I wish I could give to everyone in the world. We still don’t know the source of it. I listened to a live recording of the Brazilian singer Gal Costa singing “Baby”—“Você precisa saber da piscina, Da margarina, da Carolina, da gasolina...” The crowd roars with those opening lyrics. You can hear the whole audience singing along, “Baby, baby, I love you...” I wept some tears of joy and wrote in my notebook, “You know, when I die, I will be sad to leave the world behind. I loved this broken world, I loved it truly.”

Then I read a journal entry from a week ago:

April 13

Today the sky went from sunny to gray sunny to gray. Stepped out of my house, into the blustery air—two pigeons were perched above the commuter rail, their iridescent throats catching the spring sun. Turning down Oxford Street, Kimya Dawson came on over my headphones. I haven’t thought of Kimya Dawson in nearly 20 years, I thought, and was flooded with memories of high school, teenage emotion, so embarrassingly earnest. Once I left a comment on Kimya’s livejournal: “I couldn’t get a ticket to your show...” She put me on the guest list, how sweet of her. “And the road’s still long but you come along...”

I felt calm. Thought: so this is the calm that follows a long cry. The whole world and its kaleidoscopic array of details were singing to me: the white petals of the star magnolia aloft on the wind, a stranger’s purple sari blowing in the breeze as she crosses the street, the tuxedo cat sitting in the periwinkles, pink saucer magnolia blooms above some blue graffiti, observed through a chain link fence.

I walk to the Charles River and sit on a bench watching the daffodils lining the bank of the river dance in the wind while the sparkling light on the surface of the water twinkles in the background. Once Bhanu Kapil and I sat by this river admiring the daffodils. At sunset we sat with our eyes closed, doing a sun meditation before we walked over to the Houghton Library for her reading with Fred Moten. We wandered around the Harvard campus and she posted a photo of me on her blog doing a peace sign in the Harvard Math Department. On the counter next to the Keurig coffee maker, Ed made an intricate mandala out of sugar packets and wood coffee stirrers. She made a joke about Indians and Russians both loving chess and mathematics.

Drifting in and out of memories. I observe an old man in a beret taking photos with his vintage medium format camera of the daffodils and the river. He says Hello. I smile and say Hello. A woman is on a blanket in the grass, photographing her dog rolling around on its back.

I wander around Harvard Square. Through the window of Tasty Burger I see a young black woman and white man (probably undergrads) acting playfully as they eat. She sticks her tongue out. He taps it with his finger. They do this over and over. I go into Harvard Book Store, leaf through some books, and buy a copy of Amelia Rosselli’s Sleep. So many words. I wonder about the books I will write, the people who are on the other end of that strange relationship, the relationship between writer and reader.

I used to have a dragnet mind, used to walk around in a state of pure awe, my window of perception so wide—it was the world, simple, resplendent, endlessly offering itself to me. I humbly accepted it, that gift of quotidian grace. Ordinary things glowed with a freshness that brought tears to my eyes. It’s rarer now, but still, I cherish the days when I can feel the world singing to me.

The world. Tell them—tell them, she loved it truly.

#music #memory #grace #mysticism #gal costa #flowers #spring #daffodils #gentleness

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divinationtools · 1 year

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Valentine’s Day Gift Ideas based on Zodiac Signs.

Looking for the perfect gift idea? Look no further! Aries: Surprise your Aries with tickets to a local escape room or a scenic hike. Or, plan a spontaneous picnic with all their favorite treats.

Taurus: Pamper your Taurus with a relaxing at-home spa day. Fill a basket with candles, bath salts, and face masks for a peaceful and luxurious evening.

Gemini: Keep your Gemini's mind entertained with a personalized crossword puzzle or a book by their favorite author. Or, make a mix tape of all your favorite songs together.

Cancer: Show your Cancer how much you care by making them a sentimental photo album or a heartfelt love letter. Or, bake them their favorite comfort food and cuddle up for movie night.

Leo: Spoil your Leo with a little bit of drama. Write and perform a love poem for them or take them on a surprise candlelit dinner.

Virgo: Help your Virgo stay organized with a custom planner or a set of colorful sticky notes. Or, gift them a healthy cookbook and plan a nutritious home-cooked meal together.

Libra: Romance is in the air for your Libra. Treat them to a couples' dance class or plan a surprise picnic in the park with a bouquet of their favorite flowers.

Scorpio: Tintilate your Scorpio with mystery and intrigue. Give them a clue-filled scavenger hunt leading up to a special gift or surprise them with tickets to a psychic reading.

Sagittarius: Adventure awaits your Sagittarius. Plan a surprise road trip to a nearby attraction or take them to a comedy club.

Capricorn: Impress your Capricorn with a practical yet stylish gift, like a customized tote bag or a high-quality pen set. Or, make them a gourmet gift basket with all their favorite treats.

Aquarius: Embrace your Aquarius' individuality with a quirky and innovative gift, like a personalized astrology chart or a funky gadget. Or, take them on a visit to a local art museum.

Pisces: Help your Pisces tap into their spiritual side with a guided meditation session or a dream journal. Or, plan a romantic picnic by the lake and enjoy the serene atmosphere.

#astrology #witchy vibes #zodiac #valentine's day #witchblr #love spell #love spells

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kristannafever · 1 year

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A Sky Full of Sun - 2

Kristanna Modern au Rated: M WC: 2430

Chapter Index

-----------------------------

Kristoff tucked himself into the aisle seat and tried to keep his arms to himself, hard as that was with the dude who was sitting next to him already occupying the shared space between the seats and some even of his.

This flight was going to be a fucking nightmare. He crossed his arms, pissed that he wasn’t even going to be able to relax his shoulders and read.

Too bad you aren’t sitting by that little redhead, he thought.

Kristoff had been a little surprised when Anna introduced herself. She was very friendly – he had a feeling she was a talker – and she was stunning. Her eyes were beautiful and he was lucky enough to catch them again as she passed him by down the aisle to find her seat. She flashed him a smile but didn’t say anything.

He sighed. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was sitting beside Sven at least. He hated shoulder rubbing with a stranger. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the seat, willing this flight to be over as quick as possible as every person who walked by bumped his other arm that was sticking into the aisle. He couldn’t help the way his body was built and he just didn’t fit properly into these crammed seats. If he had the money for it, he’d fly first class everywhere.

There was a light tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kristoff.”

He opened his eyes and Anna’s face was right there, in his personal space.

“I’m alone in my row,” she said quietly. “I asked where Liz picked their seats because she paid extra for it, and when I booked my ticket, I did the same and snagged the window seat beside them. You want to join me? It’ll be more room for you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely, yes, thank you.”

She grinned at him and he grabbed his backpack from under the seat in front of him and followed her three rows back to the other side of the plane. She was about to slide over to the window seat when she stopped and turned back to him.

“You know what, why don’t you take the window. That way people won’t be bumping into your arm the whole time.”

“Uh, okay.” Had she noticed that while other people were boarding the plane? Did that mean she was looking? “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all!” She beamed.

Kristoff felt his cheeks get warm as he slid into the window seat and Anna followed by sitting on the aisle. He sure wasn’t expecting this. Now he could let his broad shoulders relax, he could enjoy his book, even stick his long legs over to the middle a bit when he wanted to stretch. Suddenly the next five hours weren’t looking so grim and Kristoff smiled to himself.

Anna caught him doing so. “Much better, right?”

He looked at her, smiling wider. “So much better. Thank you.”

-------

“I still don’t understand how you managed not to pee this whole time,” she said, as she leaned over towards him, in his personal space again, and looked out the window as they were making their approach to land.

Kristoff chuckled. “I used the bathroom in the airport before boarding and don’t drink anything on the plane.”

“I don’t know how you do that.” She leaned back in her seat and looked at him. “It’s so dry on these things, I’m always parched.”

“Oh, I’m thirsty, but it sure beats having to squish and squeeze past people down these narrow aisles to use those tiny bathrooms.”

“For someone as tall and broad as you, I guess I understand.” She laughed.

Kristoff felt a fluttery feeling in his stomach to hear her laugh. He had expected her to talk his ear off the whole flight, then to his surprise, she pulled a book out of her bag and they barely talked the whole time. He got to read his own book and be comfortable in his seat, but he felt an odd and very foreign sense of disappointment that they didn’t have a conversation. Still, he figured, they were sharing a condo for the next two weeks. There would be plenty of time to talk.

The plane landed smoothly and they de-planed onto the stairs to walk across the tarmac in the hot and humid air towards customs. Kristoff was glad the airport was air conditioned; his t-shirt was already sticking to his body. He couldn’t wait to get to the place and throw on a swimsuit and hit the pool.

Anna got through before him and as soon as he was in the baggage area he used the bathroom, then found his bag and Anna further up in the security line where luggage was being checked. When he finally exited the secure area, he found Anna already in line at the Taxi stand. She joined him after and they were directed to a cab. The ride was as quiet as the plane, each of them looking out the windows to take in a place neither of them had ever been before. Or at least he assumed she’d never been. He supposed that would be something he could ask her should he want to start up a conversation.

They checked in with the administration office when they arrived at the building and were given a plastic wrist band to wear for the duration of their stay. Kristoff loathed them, but he understood they needed them to get in and out of the gated and secure property. With that done, they went to the third tower, loaded themselves and their bags into a small elevator and rode up to the seventh floor.

Kristoff opened the door and Anna gasped behind him as they walked inside. The views were absolutely stunning. The ocean stretched out before them through a wall of sliding glass panels. The condo was beautiful as well, as they paused a moment to take it all in, before they both wandered down the hall to the bedrooms.

“I guess we get first pick since Sven and Liz aren’t here!” she said, and went into the first door on her right with the ocean view. “Oh, yup! This one is mine! I call it!”

Kristoff chuckled as he paused at her door to look in. The room was perfect, same great ocean view as the main living space, television on a dresser across from the bed, and a large bathroom. He continued down the hall, ignoring the bedrooms on the left with the view of the town, and went into the one beside Anna’s. They layout was reversed and the room was a little bit less wide, but otherwise just as perfect.

“I think I got the master, there’s two sinks in the bathroom,” she said, walking right into his room to look around.

“Nice.” Kristoff smiled and threw his bag on the bed.

They went back to the main area where the couches, easy chairs, and a large table were, then slid the glass panels back all the way. The ocean breeze was magnificent as they took in the full view and the grounds below them. The deck stretched all the way to the bedrooms and Kristoff walked the length of it, realizing that the bedrooms also opened onto the deck. He had half a mind to slide the glass back and listen to the ocean all night long. Then again, in this heat and humidity he might prefer to have the AC on. He was already feeling a little overwhelmed by it.

He walked back to where Anna was looking down. There was a huge pool in the middle, a smaller one off the side of the Palapa bar, and another small one tucked in the back on the other side that Kristoff realized was a wading pool for kids. The big blue patch of water in the middle sure did look inviting at the moment.

“Hey you want to grab a beer or something?” Anna asked, smiling at him.

Kristoff almost instinctively said yes, then his eyes slid back down to the pool. “Uh, maybe after a swim? That water sure looks pretty appealing right now. I’ve kind of been thinking about hitting the pool all day.”

To his delight, Anna looked excited. He half expected her to maybe say she’d catch up with him later. “Sure! Let’s do it.”

*******

Anna’s excitement dissolved into nervousness as soon as she was alone in her room looking at her bathing suits. Well, the excitement to see Kristoff without a shirt on was definitely still there, but now she was a little nervous to be in a swimsuit herself. She’d be going with the one piece for sure, plus that way there would be less sunblock to have to apply… wait! Sunblock! How was she going to get it on her back without his help?

Anna groaned and grabbed her bathing suit and changed into it quickly fighting the anxious feeling she suddenly had. If she didn’t get a grip of herself, she was going to ruin her good mood, and no one wants to have their good mood ruined on vacation. Grabbing her bathing suit cover, she shoved it in her beach bag along with sunglasses, ball cap, her book, extra sunblock and her cell phone, then took a calming breath before leaving her room to find Kristoff waiting in the main area.

He turned around when he heard her approach, can of spray sunblock in his hand and Anna felt a sense of relief. Aerosol! What a genius invention! Not that she would mind having Kristoff rub sunscreen on her back and shoulders, not at all. In fact, that would have been lovely. But awkward! So awkward. They’d only just met. Then he’d probably want her to put some on him and she’d have to rub it all over his broad, muscular back and shoulders… Oh God, he looks so good in that bathing suit. ��

“Um…” He cleared his throat gently, eyes fixed onto hers like he was concentrating hard on not looking anywhere else. “I don’t suppose you’d mind spraying this on my back? I can help you too, if…”

He let the question fall and Anna nodded, taking the sunscreen. She did her best to cover every inch of his skin, taking in the sight of him. That body of his was something else. Then it was her turn and Anna gasped as the cold sunscreen was sprayed on.

“Sorry, that’s the trouble with this stuff,” he murmured, and slid the can into his backpack.

He handed her a monogramed towel with the unit number on it that he mentioned he found in the open hall cubby, and they rode the elevator down to the pools. As they walked down the palm-tree lined pathways, Anna asked him if he wanted to go to the adult only pool by the bar that administration told them about. He answered he’d rather just start off in the big one, and they found a pair of lounge chairs that surrounded the pool, put their things on them and waded into the water.

Anna couldn’t help but look around at everyone lounging around the pool, and as she expected, there were eyes on Kristoff. A rather large group of ladies in particular seemed to be pointing him out to each other and whispering in each other’s ears. To be honest, it made Anna a little jealous. Liz told her he was single and Anna was not here to be matched up with someone, she made that very clear, but she immediately liked Kristoff, and found herself hoping on things she told herself she was simply not going to do on her first vacation since dumping her ex. She suddenly had to wonder if he actually might hit it off with one of those ladies. Anna obviously still didn’t know him well enough yet to know exactly what kind of person he was, she only knew that he was single and maybe he was looking to mingle.

Anna followed Kristoff to the infinity ledge of the pool where he put is elbows up on the rounded edge and looked out to the ocean only a dozen yards away. His chin came down on his folded wrists and he gave a sigh of satisfaction that Anna echoed as she perched herself the same way as him. Her feet were floating in the water here though where she knew Kristoff was touching the bottom with his long legs.

They remained that way in silence for a while, watching people pass on the beach, parasailers floating by and speed boats pulling groups on long banana boats just beyond the surf. The sun was low in the sky. Sunset would be happening soon and Anna was excited to see it. This place was truly a paradise.

“So, thanks again for letting me sit with you on the plane,” Kristoff said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Oh, I was happy to share my row!” Anna said. “I figured I would snag you before some stranger asked to take the aisle seat or something.”

He looked over at her and smiled then turned his attention back to the ocean. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this place is really nice.”

“Totally! I asked Liz where we were staying and looked up pictures on line before we came. I could not wait to get down here.”

“You and Liz seem pretty close?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re getting that way for sure. I’m still new to the city, I only moved there two months ago, but as soon as I met Liz at work, we hit it off.”

“Oh yeah? That’s good to hear. Where did you move from?”

Anna told him, and all about how her engagement fell trough when she discovered her fiancé was cheating on her – able to laugh it off now about dodging that bullet – and how she decided to start over in a new city. Then she found herself kind of just rambling on about her life and she would have felt embarrassed had it not been for the fact that he was clearly listening. He kept asking her questions and making comments.

And when the sun was about to set, Anna fell silent in favour of being in the moment. They both watched as it touched the ocean and sunk into it, getting smaller and smaller until all that was left was a faint sliver of light, and then it was gone.

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#a sky full of sun #cee wrote this mess #kristanna #kristoff #anna #kristanna modern au

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