#i don't even like half of it I just skip through to three of four specific scenes

[at-this-point-i-dont-even-know]

Always and Forever (2/?)Jack Abbott x Reader

About: Jack Abbott lost his wife in the war, and her memory haunts him for six years, three months and twenty four days.

Warnings: MDNI- smut and angst ahead - I don't know anything medical or anything military so everything is just a guess

A/N: I have split this in half because this chapter was getting away from me, this half is already 8 pages long.....

tag list: princessjayll

part one/part three

It was so noisy when you awoke, the sound of blades banging over head, richocing through your pounding head. You tried to sit up and grab your aching skull, as if you could calm it with your touch. 

Ice fills your veins as you pull against the soft restraints that hold you in place.

God please not again you cry out, either internally or vocally, you no longer knew the difference. 

Please just let me go, you sobbed over and over again.

So time passed and your grief came in waves.

The first few weeks (you guessed), you were calm, saying only what you had been told to in training. You told them your name, your rank as a Field Doctor and your ID number. You repeated it over and over again, as they tried to get anything further out of you.

After that came the rage, you swore at your captors, screaming, calling them all the worst words you knew under the sun. And since you knew three languages fluently, and all the swear words of two others, it kept you entertained as the beatings finally stopped.

You skipped over bargaining, there was nothing you knew that would give you your freedom, and depression, well that stage stayed from day one until now.

You had no idea how long you had been a captive for, there were no calendars to tell you the passage of time, and all the movies that show prisoners scratching out days on the walls lied. No captor would give a captee anything strong enough to mark up a wall. Then they had let you out, freedom as long as you didn’t run. You stayed, helping the women and the children. You think the war may have ended in the time you were there but you didn’t know. You didn’t speak their language and they didn’t speak yours. So you nursed the sick and helped the injured, then curled up in the tiny bed you were given and mourned the life you had known.

The only thing that kept you sane, was the memory of him.

Doctor Jack Abbott, your best friend and husband.

It was his memory that kept everything at bay when the pain came too much or the darkness too dark. 

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

You hated him at first, he was arrogant and talkative from the moment he walked into your medi-tent. You were hands deep in a civilian, who happened to be on the wrong side of the road when an IED went off, when he sauntered in, flashing you a cocky grin before one of the nurses strapped a mask over it. 

“Who do we have here?” he asked, looking at the patient instead of you. Your hackles were up, besides you and your sister there was only one other female surgeon in the area, so you were prepared for him to treat you like a nurse besides the fact you were the one running the operation and the one with blood up to your elbows. The last doctor who had worked alongside you had done that, and the one before, you were sick of the arrogance of male doctors.

“Female, late forties, shrapnel in chest and upper thigh, uncontrollable bleeding in the gut, unknown origin.” you call out the situation without looking at him, your fingers expertly running the intestine looking for any nicks or damage.

“Have you checked no man's land?” His question has you rolling your eyes and you can’t help but pause your work to look at him through your eyelashes.

“No- I just thought I would run the bowel for no fucking reason.” you hissed and he laughed.

He fucking laughed and you curses.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Doctor Jack Abbott, it's nice to meet you.” Even with the mask on you could see him smile through the material, and it makes you want to throw something at his face. This was no place for smiling.

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

You feel yourself dozing off again, energy gone from your bones as the sound you hear finally connects with your long forgotten memories.

Helicopter. 

You were in a helicopter. You hadn’t been in one of these since your captor, so either those who had you had finally advanced their situation beyond anything they had had before, or you were rescued.

You were not dumb enough to fall for the idea of a rescue. 

That would be idiotic. 

And childish.

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

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?”

“Your favourite colour, what is it?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I think we are going to be together for a while, and I want to know your favourite colour.”

“No offense Dr Abbott, but fuck off.” You turn away from him mid scrub and finish up at a different basin, feeling his eyes on you.

“I’m just trying to get to know you.”

You scoff and he laughs. The sound isn’t as jarring as it should be. You ignore that.

“I don’t need to get to know you Dr Abbott, I know your type. You signed up for the army so they could do what? Pay off your school fees? Get you away from your wife? You look like you have one tour in you, then you’ll go to the reserves and then once you’re Stateside in a cushy job in a private hospital you can tell tales of your time in the Army over drinks with your friends who will all think you're hot shit for being so brave.”

Your words stopped him in his tracks and he turned to look you straight on.

“You’re wrong, on all fronts, I’m here because I want to help, and as for a cushy job stateside, I did my internship and residency in Emergency Medicine at John Hopskins. I’ve seen my fair share of bloodied and bruised bodies. I have spent days in an OR stitching back woman and children that have been attacked in their homes by ICE, or gangs, or their own fucking flesh and blood, long before you even finished your senior year of high school. I came to this god forsaken place to find a reason for it all. And as for tours, I’m on my third and I’m here as long as they will have me. Is that good enough for you, sunshine?”

You nod, taking it all in, this man before you with his salt and pepper hair aging before his time and his eyes that lit up with fire behind them with every word.

“And-” he said, with that shit eating grin back on his face, “I’m not married.”

You nod again and run your hands under the limited water you have.

“My favourite colour is Lavender, it's also my favourite smell and flower.”

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

You awake again, still strapped with the soft restraints but this time as you throw your head back to take in your surroundings you don’t hit rock or cement but a pillow.

A fucking pillow.

That's all it takes for a sob to rip through you and for you to finally register where you are.

It is a helicopter, now on the ground, with english signs above the door and american voices coming from the cockpit.

“Fuck-” you breathe out and then flinch as the voices become louder, a body coming towards you, bending to not hit their head on the roof.

“It's good to see you Doc!”

You look up at the young face of the soldier before you, he has freckles over his nose and a boyish look that you can’t help but smile at.

“Is this real?” your voice is crackly and exhausted from only three words.

“As real as it can be.” the young soldier promised, “We are heading to Germany for a quick check up with a doctor there and then hopefully by the end of the week we will have you back on American soil!”

Home.

To your sister.

To Jack.

You can’t stop the laugh that breaks through.

It's over.

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

“I was wrong about you.” you laugh as the afternoon finally settles.

You and Jack have been juggling patients for over three hours, what started out as a simple clinic day had ended with two amputations and one soldier heading home early without his spleen. 

So as you scrubbed out, you can’t help but enjoy the sight of Dr Abbott losing a fight with his mask, the knot not breaking against his strength and his fingers too exhausted to complete the simple action he finally just dragged it over his face, a crinkle forming between his brow.

“Really?”

“Yeah- I was awful when you joined, I’m sorry.”

You might be a bitch, taking after your oldest sister, but you knew when to admit when you were wrong and your first impression of the cocky doctor before you was very wrong.

He was still cocky, but he was smart, quick thinking and kind. So much kinder to all, you had forgotten what kindness was after your own two tours.

He was a breath of fresh air in the warm desert climate, and you couldn’t help but enjoy every moment with him.

“Do you want to get a drink?” 

You raise a brow.

“Did a new bar open up in downtown Nowheresville that I didn’t know about?”

“I have two warm American Cokes in my bag that I think have our names on.”

You laugh and he smiles, and god you want to see him smile more. It was like someone turned on a light after you had spent years in the dark.

You stop suddenly, your heart beating in your throat.

Oh.

Oh.

You have a crush!

Fuck!

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

“Physically other than dehydration, she’s fine. She has a few broken bones that have healed at angles that are not fantastic but as long as she is okay with not running some marathons in the next few months, I can’t see any reason for keeping her here.”

The heavily German accented doctor was talking to someone on the phone when you awoke, the soft restraints gone and now your hands are free and you're laying back down on a mattress, a hospital mattress that feels too soft against your exhausted body.

“Doctor-” 

“I have to go Doctor Walsh, your sister will be on the next plane out of here to Pittsburgh tonight.”

Your sister! You hold your hand out, trying to grab at the phone before the doctor hangs up but he turns away from you and leaves the room without a word or even a glance at your outstretched hand. 

Emery! You wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice. 

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

Jack kissed like he performed surgery, with a passion that had your knees buckling and your body falling into his.

He pulled her closer, and they fell backwards into the thankfully empty med tent.

The whole camp had cleared out earlier that day, except for  you two and a handful of soldiers who were too busy losing all their money to each other in poker to notice as you and Jack slipped away.

You two had been skirting around each other for months, stealing glances or touches like you had stepped out of one of your Victorian Mills and Boon novels. 

Tonight was meant to be a quiet night, where you would pack up your kits and be ready to leave the next morning, but after you beat Jack in poker and then made one or two meaner comments on his manhood, the tension between you both was tangible.

“Lets get some air.” he had growled into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. 

You nod, not trusting your own voice at this point. 

“Do you have something you need to tell me?” He asked as soon as you were out of earshot of the others.

You only smirk, and push him lightly on the shoulder, the words you want to say are lost on your tongue as his eyes reflect the full moon above you.

You didn’t have the words to explain what you had to tell him, how do you tell someone that he walked into your life when you were at your lowest, when you were so disillusioned by the entire concept of life and while you were not looking for an escape you were also not looking for a saviour. How his incentent chatter during clinic hours, surgeries or even dinner had turned from irritating to a calming balm against your own demons. How he was your favourite reason to get out of your bunk every day.

You stare at him, and stop walking, stopping just before your tent door and grab the lapels of his shirt.

“I like you.” you admit, the words heavy between you and he just stares so long at you that your stomach drops and you let go, stepping away. 

He doesn’t think the same as you immediately think and you start to turn away, your face flushed with embarrassment before he grabs you, pulling you back to him.

“Thank god-” he breathed out, “I thought it was just me!”

The taste of him was like coming home, you moaned against his lips, unable to stop yourself.

The sound was Jack's undoing and his hands, now entwined in your hair, dug into your scalp and he pulled your head up slightly.

He was taller than you, so with this new angle you look up at him, and he bites gently at your lips.

Your hands don’t stop roving over his body, ripping away his jacket and undershirt, you are desperate for skin, to feel his warm soft skin against your calloused hands.

He kisses you again, his tongue fighting yours as you both burned for each other. Jack lets go of our hair and his hands now snake around your body, grabbing your ass and lifting you into the air. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and you can't stop the moan as the friction of your pants tightening around your heat.

“Fuck- Jack.” you say against his ear as he kisses down your neck.

“That’s the plan, babe.”

“Ew! I hate babe!” you laugh as he nips at your collar bone.

He grounds into you, and you cling tighter as he moves you both to the cot, with one hand holding you in place he throws all his packing onto the dust covered floor.

You laugh as he tosses you onto the now empty bed and steps back, looking at you like you are prey and he is a hungry predator.

You were not a virgin, not even close, but you had never had anyone look at you like that. 

He moves slowly, his fingers trailing over your body as he unbuttons your simple uniform shirt, you help him shrug it off before he grasps your trouser button and rips it off. The moment is almost cinematic until you both realise you had forgotten to remove your boots.

Suddenly the magic of the moment is gone and you are both laughing as Jack struggles to remove them.

“Seriously! How do these even fit you!” he hisses as the boots refuse to move.

You push him out of the way before getting up to kick them off. Jack leans against a crate of boxes, his eyes tracking the movement as you dance around the tent trying to get the boots off.

“I should sell tickets to this show.” he muses out loud and you stop, cocking your brow and putting your hands on your hips. It would be a formidable look if you were not topless, with your trousers around your ankles with only one boot on.

“You want others to see me like this?” 

“God no!” he growled before pulling you to him, your lips colliding as he kissed away any further protest.

You both fall back into the cot, your body wrapped around each other as you grind against the length of him, still wrapped in army issued trousers you whine against the friction.

You needed him in that moment, in every moment, your body ached for more.

Your tongues tangle, and you could feel his heartbeat against yours, before he broke the kiss, causing another whine form your lips. You blush at how vocal you are with him, but he only smirks and nips at your bottom lip.

“I could listen to you all day.” he purred before shifting down the cot, his face now level with your crotch.    

As your eyes locked, he slid a finger into you, pumping it in and out agonisingly slowly as you pushed up into his touch.

More you begged, internally or externally you were not even sure any more as Jack took his time, laughing as you tried to take his finger deeper.

“Patience.” he purred again, this time his breath against your inner thigh, you flinched at the contact of cool air against your now vey sweaty skin, and he licked your leg, before returning to his minstations, adding another finger.

You rode his hand, grinding into him as he cursed your name, your mind scattering into oblivion as your body bowed off the cot as you succumbed to the climax screaming his name.

He didn’t stop to give you a moment, his tongue now joining his fingers he pulled you immediately into another earth shattering ending, your body now screaming for a release from the enjoyable torture.

“Gods-” you said as he finally let you go, your body already missing his attention as he crawled into the cot next to you, pulling you to his chest as you felt sleep overtaking you.

“You didn’t-” you tried to say, to argue that he didn’t get his own happy ending, but he just kissed your temple and told you to get some sleep.

“There is plenty of time for me." he promised.

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

The flight from Germany to America was somehow both long and short at the same time.

You were given a shot of something in your now always present IV bag that had you falling asleep before the young soldier who had now been with you for multiple days could even get your gurney wheeled onto the carrier. 

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean you had awoken from your drug induced sleep with a start, screaming from a nightmare that you couldn’t quite remember as you tried to readjust to reality.

The young soldier, who once again told you his name and then you promptly forgot it again, had handed you an ipad with a newspaper app open.

“It might be good- to see what's been happening.” he said, his accent twanging on each vowel.

“Where are you from?” you asked, quietly, your voice still not really back.

“Arizona, Madame.” he said before turning back to the magazine he had been reading.

You smiled weakly, “I bought a house in Arizona with my husband,” the boy turned and looked at you, “It has a wrap-around porch and big windows that look out over the Tucson Mountains.”

“Did you love the sunsets? I miss the sunsets when I’m away.”

You sigh and look up at the roof of the plane, “I never got there, we bought it when we were shipped out. I was about two weeks away from going home when I was-” you can’t bring yourself to say the rest, “But I hope to see it soon.”

“I hope you see it too Madame.”

[mistercrowbar]

What advice would you give to someone who wants to start draw comics?

Read comics. Try to absorb the layouts and lettering - there’s so many ways to tackle it! Also even in published comics you’ll see that the art is messy and scrungly and you can take that as permission to be messy and scrungly too.

Comics are about efficiency and Good Enough. If you try to make each panel a masterpiece you’ll be there forever. Reasons why I mostly do simple pencil comics.

Start small. Do a scene or gag comic at a time. Get a feel for the medium and all the steps you have. If there’s a step you hate, find a way to emphasize the steps you love. EG I hate laying down flat colours but love shading, so I make my page form comics painterly greyscale with a gradient map to spruce them up.

Thumbnail!!!!! Figure out your page or panel layout before you start pencils. It can just be chicken scratch and sticken figures but it will help make sure there’s a clean line of action carrying the viewer from panel to panel and that your lettering fits.

don’t skimp on lettering. you can have beautiful artwork but if your dialogue is time new roman on half transparent ellipses or somehow unreadable it’s gonna drag everything else down. Blambot is a great source for free and affordable comic fonts and even has guides from an industry pro.

There are a huge bajillion elements to making comics but once you’ve made like, literally 100 pages you’ll start just intrinsically knowing things like the 180 rule, how to place a speech bubble when the first speaker is on the right, and that you can draw one nice background and then have gradient colour blocks carry you through most of the page/scene. And then you’ll still keep learning. Always learning!

LOTS of example stuff under the cut, mostly for lettering and layouts:

thumbnails vs finished page. The detail is just enough to remind me who goes where. You can see I mostly played with the last part of the scene, going from three panels in one row to making each panel an entire row across three rows. Panels on the same row have less “time” between them as the eyes skips from one to the other faster, whereas there’s a little more gap skipping back to a new row (think resetting a line on a typewriter). Here, the first thumbnail may have fit the artwork more neatly, but I wanted to give Astarion more time to deliberate his decision.

You can also see that I changed the top panel from a close up on Aldiirn to a wider shot showing both. This sets the scene, and the rest of it uses simple/abstract backgrounds until the final panel, which makes a nice bookend while making the overall load easier. One good environment panel will carry you for a while, but don't leave your characters in the void for too long.

Make a script before you start layouts but don’t be shocked if you need to cut things out to have them fit a page. Less is more, generally. This also goes for visual elements - what's most important to the scene? What's just extraneous detail you find fun but is creating clutter?

For the 4-panel comics I don’t put time into thumbnails unless it’s a difficult panel, but I always put the lettering and speech bubbles down first so they have enough room and nothing important gets covered. If you do this much you’re a step ahead imo.

This one I’m working on now and there’s a lot going on with four characters speaking to each other! It’s important to keep a clear line going for the dialogue. Astarion’s first line has the top left corner and clearly starts the conversation. The tail of the bubble carries over to where he whispers to Aldiirn, and we pick up Aldiirn’s lines. The rock wall on the right then draws the eye down to Shadowheart and Gale’s bubble at the bottom. I don’t think the tails on the bottom bubbles are 100% ideal, but it’s Good Enough.

There’s also slightly different points in time going on in this panel, because the art is static but it’s a long convo going on. Gale’s signature finger isn’t in response to Astarion whispering, but to his answer to Aldiirn that comes after. Think of how time works in your panels, especially when you got a big one because size = time.

You can use all sorts of things to direct the eye across a comic page, but I find the strongest things are the bubbles & tails and where characters are looking. Here, Gale’s “stop by” line breaks the panel line to help draw the viewer to him in the last panel, since otherwise the eye was likely to end up at Aldiirn.

I generally like bubbles to be tucked into their panels, either fully inside or up at the edges like “my condolences.” It looks neater than when bubbles are willy nilly over the edges which I see as a sign of poor planning. And! it means when you do break panel lines it can be more meaningful.

the 180 rule is a film/stage thing for composition to avoid confusing the audience, but the simplest way to put it is: if a character is on the left side of the scene, they should stay there until the action or whatever moves them. You can see here that Aldiirn is always on the right facing left, even when the camera is a bit behind him or a bit behind Gale. the 180 line is the front of Aldiirn’s tent, and the camera never crosses it in a way that would put Gale on the right.

I find it distracting when a conversation is happening in comic and a character breaks the 180 for no particular reason, though are times I’ve done it because a panel worked much better that way. The book Framed Ink has some great guides on composition and how to change the 180 line.

You can also see in the above comic that it’s arranged so that Gale’s always the first speaker in the panels he appears so there’s no criss cross bubble tails. Buuuut what if the first speaker is unavoidably on the right?

Stack the speech bubbles. You want the first speech bubble CLEARLY and undeniably the closest to the top left corner and then other speakers can go below.

the middle example above also has some examples of playing with the speech bubbles. Wyll’s “square-y round-y” bubble is the standard, the boxy ellipse. The tail has a slight, lanquid curve. He;s comfortable teasing the poor vampire. Aldiirn’s bubble is pointy! the tail straight! with urgency! And Astarion’s bubble and tail are burbling and grumbling through gritted teeth and pain. Varsh Ko’kuu, even though he’s speaking with a standard shaped bubble, has a sharp point in the tail that speaks to his assertiveness in protecting the egg. And Shadowheart has some hesitation with that wiggly tail.

Either hand drawing or using vector shapes for bubbles is fine, but I recommend staying away from true ellipses because they look static. Square-y round-y is where it’s at. Just make sure there’s enough space between text and edge of the bubble, usually enough to fit a capital H or W, but you can play with that spacing too.

The second panel here breaks the “first bubble goes top-left corner” rule, so it’s ambiguous if Gale or Aldiirn speaks first. However! In this case everyone is giving their responses in a jumble to Rath, so order matters less. I’m pretty sure every rule I’ve mentioned has a time and place to break it, but it’s still important to learn the basics first.

Key thing about comics typefaces: the capital I will have bars and the lower case will not. The barred I is used for I, as in, “I am not inclined to share” where the unbarred is used everywhere else.

When choosing a font, I recommend grabbing one that has Regular, Italic, and Bold/Bold Italic typefaces. I use Milk Moustache for my 4-panel comics because it’s very casual and similar weight to my own handwriting, but it doesn’t have an italic typeface and that drives me nuts sometimes. For the most flexibility, choose a font that has lower case AND uppercase type faces. I stick to upper case 90% of the time but lower case adds more options, like Aldiirn’s “really?” being so small due to his stressed state.

There are some official guides on what should be bold or italic in dialogues but they don’t matter as much unless you’re working for a big publisher with a style standard. Italics for thinking and whispering are common. I go with my gut, like Astarion’s speech is so dramatic I use italics and bold liberally, whereas for most others I may or may not just choose a key word to bold.

I think some programs will let you make text to fit a bubble instead of a square box, but tbh I just spend a lot of time manually making the text fit nicely in that bubble shape.

[areislol]

The stalker

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. mentions of stalking/a stalker (if it makes you uncomfortable please don't read), implies that reader enjoys coffee (sorry if you're not a coffee enjoyer), slight sprinkle of angst, crack/fluff, proofread

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. for some reason this feels more like a filler than an actual eventful chapter. sigh i hope you guys enjoy this! I'm also writing a sahau headcanon :)

►— wordcount. 6.4k

✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five | ✧ part six | more tba.. NAVIGATION

recommended to listen to: snooze- sza

Having a stalker would be the last thing you could ever imagine having and experiencing.

You weren't exactly that good looking (in your opinion anyway), you were just average. You didn't have any powers or anything, so why would someone pick you out of billions of people to stalk?

The idea itself was baffling, it was even more chilling with the fact that you were quite literally talking and interacting with your stalker. It was utterly horrifying with the fact that he was so close to you, so close that he could snatch you if he wanted to—take you away.

As you lay still on your bed your mind was flooding with the images of the man, his black hoodie hiding his upper face, his twisted smile. You heaved a sigh before turning around, your face meeting with Ayato's.

He was gorgeous. He looked so heavenly and handsome that's for sure. The inner corner of your lips tug upwards as you examine his face, it seems as if his face immediately calmed you down. Your eyes soften as you continue to watch him, his chest heaving up and down gently.

But as the constant fear and unease had taken its toll on your mind, the thoughts of your stalker seemed to consume you despite how hard you tried to push them away.

The room was wrapped in an eerie blue hue, mirroring the turmoil within you. The morning light has yet pierced through the darkness, but the blue outside seemed to mock your unsettled state of mind. As you sat up in your bed, you heaved a great sigh before running your fingers through your tangled hair, groaning in frustration.

What was today going to be like? Could you really go back to work after being informed about the fact that you literally have a STALKER? Who in the right mind would go back to work after that?!

.... Except for you, we don't count you in. You desperately needed the money for college and couldn't just skip a day off of work because you felt unsafe, technically you can but what about the money? You needed it.

Your face was buried in the palms of your hands as you took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a soft groan followed by the sounds of the blanket rustling and a groan.

A soft, raspy yet sultry voice allures you, making your stomach flip.

"Already awake, darling? Isn't it a bit too—" Ayato yawned as his voice stretched, strands of hair softly drooped and covering half of his face even more. As you pulled away from your palms and stared at Ayato, seeing him looking drowsy and tired (yet so handsome) made you smile.

"A bit too early..." he continued, blinking groggily towards you. The corner of his lips tugged outwards as the realization dawned on him, he was sleeping beside you, a beauty, his creator. A red hue soon makes its way to his cheeks, you watch him curiously, his reaction is adorable (although you don't know why he is suddenly so red).

You shake your head, stretching your arms as a soft groan slips out of your mouth. "Not really, I... have to go to work." You replied, trying your best not to sound upset. But despite that Ayato could see right through you.

He knew there was something off but did not speak up with his thoughts, maybe he was wrong? After a few minutes, you both decide to get out of bed, careful not to wake up the rest.

The sounds of the tap running and stopping indicated that a few were awake, not only that but you could hear the sounds of sizzling, Thoma or Aether were already cooking breakfast. You were always so thankful for them, they made you breakfast, kept you company and were there when you needed them.

As you hopped off your bed you held onto Ayato's arm for support as you had slept in an awkward and weird position, applying pressure to your legs which eventually led to them being sore. Ayato enjoyed every second of your touch.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you? I wouldn't mind, really." Ayato offered, trying to convince you to let him carry you, obviously, you politely denied him. "There's no need, thank you though!"

After spending a couple of minutes brushing your teeth and washing your face with Ayato, you both went your own way with him going to the kitchen while you went back into your bedroom to wake up the rest of the men.

You were unsure why some were still sleeping in as they usually were awake before you, but it seemed like they were tired. "Good morning, wake up everybody!" You yelled, careful not to startle them too much. Collective groans could be heard followed by the rustles of bed sheets.

Aether turns on his back and lets out a sigh. "I'm awake.." He groans, rubbing his eyes and sitting up on the mattress. He groggily blinks at you before giving you a small smile. He was so adorable. And his messy bed hair didn't help either.

Itto grumbled and hid under the sheets. "Five more minutes... I need to finish my dream.." He mumbled before snoring off. You sighed and shook your head before walking towards Itto and crouching to his figure. Could a dream really be that interesting?

After poking his head a few times to get him to wake up, Itto rolled on his back and let out a huff. "Why don't you just sleep in with me? Aren't you tired?" He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

You shake your head. "No, not really. Now get up" Itto reluctantly got up when you heard Wanderer scoff. "So lazy." Wanderer gives Itto one last glance before walking out of your room, probably heading to the bathroom.

Itto groans, his morning was already somewhat ruined. "Don't think too much about it." And with that, you left the room with Itto clinging onto your arm with no plan of letting go of you either.

It was funny as this buff and hunkier man was clinging onto YOUR much smaller arm.

You both make your way towards the living room and into the kitchen, the smell of warm bread fills your nose. Toast? You thought as you seated yourself down in front of the table.

Itto plants himself right beside you, reluctantly letting go of your arm. "Good morning Y/n, did you sleep well?" Tighnari asks, seating himself beside you as well. Tighnari set down a book alongside a cup of warm water.

You nod your head when you remember something.

"Oh, I slept well thank you. What about you though? I remember falling asleep beside you... oh, and I was touching something soft as well."

You notice how Tighnari seems flustered by your words as his ear twitched. He clears his throat softly before replying. "That's good to hear and I slept pretty well."

He left it at that, he replied to everything but your last sentence. You slowly nod your head—signifying for him to go on. Tighnari's cheeks reddened before speaking.

"You fell asleep while touching my ears. I assume they helped you fall asleep?" He teased, a small smirk appearing on his lips. You had a hunch that he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to lie of course, yes, you did sleep better while touching his ears but it was still a bit.. awkward to admit. But to your luck Thoma came over, holding a cup of warm, delicious-smelling coffee as well as a plate of cheese toast.

Something small and simple but delicious. You let out a soft and relieved sigh, Thoma was right on time—reliving you from the awkwardness of answering the very embarrassing question.

(It really wasn't that awkward but to you it was.)

He places the plate and cups down on the table before muttering a soft and gentle "Good morning". "Where did you learn to make this? It tastes amazing!" You beamed, taking a sip of the warm coffee. Thoma offers a tender smile as he seats himself down and replies.

"I watched a video about it on the TV, an.. ad I think it was? It was quite informative, really! Although the ingredients were a bit worrying. Should you really be drinking that so early in the morning?"

You could tell from his tone that he was worried and you could've sworn you felt a jab at your heart. You wave your hand, dismissing his comment. "Nah, it'll be okay."

"You'll be okay?" "Yeah, I will don't worry."

Thoma smiles uncertainly but nonetheless watches you eat your food, Tighnari goes back to reading his book about flowers and nature as Itto munches on his sandwich.

The sounds of a newslady could be heard from the living room, you occasionally glanced over to the boy and the TV, enjoying the beautiful sight of the men as they watched the news carefully and attentively.

After a couple of minutes, you finished your breakfast and got up from your seat, Tighnari and Itto had already gotten up first and were sitting on the couch along with the others—commenting alongside the news reporter.

You were used to this now. You made your way to the sink and carefully placed your dish in the sink before turning on the tap, soaking the dishes with water so that it would be easier to wash later on.

Normally you would wash your own dishes but felt unmotivated to do anything today, but alas you still had to go to work. Just the mere thought of returning to work and maybe even facing your regular customer you now know as your stalker.

Shuddering at the thought you slowly make your way to your coffee table and grab your bag as well as your house keys (not that you use it much nowadays), you really wanted to spend time with the men but of course, you had to go to work.

Albedo gives you a look as he watches you get your things, ready to leave to go to work. He, along with the others, knew something was up. You were slightly more timid, more than usual.

And also that message you had received? Oh yeah, they did not forget that message "Mark Holey" guy sent you last night. "Leaving already?" Albedo questions. You reply back, not looking at Albedo as you speak—too busy focusing on

"Yeah I have to help prepare some cakes today so I need to go there earlier. Stay safe okay? I'll be back at four (4) PM probably."

He only gives you a silent nod when you turn around and look at him. Noticing the look on his face you knew something was wrong. But you didn't want to pry, the same went for you.

Since last night after getting the message Albedo, Dainsleif and a couple more were suspicious and concerned. You had never mentioned a guy named "Mark" before, maybe he was your friend, but either way, they had never seen him pop up on your screen.

It wasn't like they could just tell you about it though, what if you thought they were weird for looking at your phone? Would you be mad at them for being so concerned over something so little? Their thoughts could never catch a break.

Gorou fought his urge to jump on you and tightly embrace you in his arms. But with a few quick and knowing looks thrown towards him, he knew better. As you slipped on your shoes in a hurry, Neuvillette got up from the couch and towards you, standing behind you awkwardly yet with such authority.

You finally put your foot on the ground after struggling to put on your shoes and as you turn around to bid the men farewell you almost get a heart attack.

"N-Neuvillette! You scared me.. again." You had jumped a little bit from the scare but you calmed down nonetheless. Neuvillette apologizes, looking at you like a kicked puppy. He looked as if he had done the worst crime in all history (to him it was).

"I apologize... I just wanted to say goodbye and to stay safe." He sounded so sad it made you feel so guilty, you offered him a tender smile before responding. "No need to apologize it's fine! And that's very sweet of you, thank you! I'll be on my way then?"

Neuvillette only silently nods as you twist the doorknob—opening it just enough where you slip through but all of a sudden you feel a warm hand gently resting on your shoulder.

Turning around you were met with Neuvillette once again. "Something wrong?" You asked, brows furrowing as you waited for his reply. Neuvillette's mouth opens slightly, words just about to slip right through but he quickly closes it, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before his gaze sets right back at you.

"Is.. Is there really no way for you to bring us there with you? Can we really not come with you?" His eyes bore into yours, waiting to get an answer out of you. You sigh as your gaze wanders off behind Neuvillette and onto your living room where the rest of the men sit on the ground and couch.

Some were reading books – Al-Haitham, Albedo, Tighnari and Ayato –watching the TV or tampering with your broken gadgets – Albedo, Kaveh, Heizou and Lyney – (such as your poor broken iPad that your younger sister broke in a fit of anger.)

While most were watching you and when your eyes met theirs one at a time a smirk grew on their face. They were all quite a handful, it would look suspicious if you, all of a sudden, bought all 24 men into your pastry shop.

Who wouldn't freak out at the sight of 24 men trailing behind one singular person?!

"Maybe soon, but not right now for sure." Your eyes met up with his once again his deep blue eyes still staring at yours. God that man could maintain eye contact.

And as you two just stood there, not saying a word to each other, the more you noticed how close Neuvillette was getting and before you knew it Neuvillette was leaning down towards you, his face just inches apart from yours.

It was as if he was just about to kiss you, and the thought of him going to kiss you was.. unfathomable. Fathom the Unfathomable am I right?

An awkward silence ensues before Neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes shut before pulling and backing away. You thanked the Lord mentally before letting out a shaky breath. What was that all about?

As the men all waved and sent you goodbye, you waved goodbye yourself before closing the door shut, you were gone now.

"Something is definitely wrong," Albedo speaks up, putting his book down carefully on a table. "Yeah! Whoever is making Our Grace like this will pay!" Itto yelled. Dainsleif cradles his head in his palms as he shakes his head in disappointment.

"The goon's getting too passionate now," Dainsleif mumbled to himself, unbeknownst to him a couple others heard him and they wholeheartedly agreed.

Wanderer shushed Itto but despite that, he agreed with him as well. Whoever was making you feel this way would surely pay. "I thought we wouldn't call Y/n 'Your Grace' anymore?" Al-Haitham spoke, not looking up from his book.

"Oops?" Itto sheepishly smiled at Al-Haitham (who wasn't even looking at him). "Either way, I'm sure if something was troubling them, they would tell us." Al-Haitham continued.

Everybody knew they weren't so close to you, but they felt like they were slowly building their trust in you. Plus, they would never lie to you or do anything to upset you. As a matter of fact they would rather die than upset you in any way.

Even so, they only hoped you could and would confide in them.

Hours passed since you left, they all busied themselves with their own thing. Tighnari and Albedo were exchanging sketching tips and doing sketching challenges, Thoma was resting in your bed as he was tired from doing a "Just Dance" exercise with Itto, Kaeya and Childe.

(You introduced them to Just Dance for funsies, they were intrigued by the songs/lyrics and the dance moves. Some did NOT like to dance and therefore did not do it but when you gave them those darn puppy dog eyes.. they couldn't resist.)

The Fatui were again admiring the view from your window, watching the people doing their own thing. The people's lives here weren't so different from their world but still, it was their creator's world and they were intrigued.

Ayato, Aether and Wriothesley were sitting side by side on chairs as they skimmed through your laptop. You had given them your permission to go on your laptop to do whatever. And they happily accepted with the one condition that they wouldn't go on a site called "Tumblr".

Aether was still learning how to use your laptop and type, they scrolled through Google, typing random words—Dogs, Cats, Pencil, Man, Woman, you name it. While they were looking at cute puppies, Wriothelsye pointed out how there was a tab named "Genshin Impact archon memes".

"Genshin? Isn't that the uh, game-world thing we're from?" He mused, "Click on it." and Aether did so, upon clicking the tab they were brought upon many images of the Archons.

Zhongli, Furina, Raiden Shogun, Venti and Nahida. There were so many images, it was a funny sight. Why was Zhongli pole dancing....? Safe to say they were slightly traumatized. Zhongli himself was embarrassed yet concerned when Aether called him over to see him "bussing it down", as the title said.

In the end, Zhongli forbids them from looking at any other memes. They would just find another way to entertain themselves before you came back home.

"Ugh when will Y/n come back I miss them..." Lyney whined, tapping his finger on the couch in boredom as he lay there, his eyes focused on the door—hoping that he would see the door unlock and that you would be there. But of course, that wouldn't happen.

"Eh I don't know but they said around four to five, am I right, Neuvillette?" Heizou turns to face Neuvillette who is sipping a cup of cold water. "Mhm, you're right."

It was silent from then on as everybody did their own thing when Aether was suddenly reminded of something out of the blue. "Hey guys.. remember that text message thing Y/n got last night?"

A few looked his way in confusion while some hummed in agreement. "What message?" "The one Y/n got last night..? The name was uh.. Marcus Hole?"

"It was 'Mark Holey', Aether." Dainsleif sighed. "Close enough," Aether mumbled back, slightly embarrassed. "But either way, what do you mean? What message did Y/n receive? I wasn't awake." Cyno chimed in, confused.

They spent the next hour or so discussing the mysterious message, making up excuses and ideas of what it meant.

"I don't know that message gave me the creeps." Cyno shudders, "I mean like who sends out a message like that? Weirdo." He continued, and the others agreed. Who on earth just sends out a message like that?

"Maybe Y/n has a secret admirer..?!" Itto suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly, almost giving Kaveh a heart attack.

"Oh please, if anyone was their secret admirer it would be us—" Lyney cuts himself off as he realizes what he said, not only that but all of the stares he was getting (they knew what he said was true).

Lyney cleared his throat. ".. Uh I mean like.. you know?" he tried his best to cover up his words but to no avail. No one commented on what he said, they all did not want to admit to having a crush on you.

If they did outright admit it, wouldn't the others find them a creep? Would you find them to be creepy..?

And that is why they opt to be quiet and only hope to win your heart through actions.

Needless to say, they spent the next hour or so discussing the strange message and what it could've meant.. but on the other hand you... were struggling in the store.

Days would pass when you went to work and returned home, utterly stressed and frustrated. One thing the men all noticed was how happy and content you were before leaving for work, and how less talkative and timid you were coming back home.

It looked as though something had a toll on your health and it pained them to see you like that, they all agreed that they should not pry in case it was sensitive for you but even so, they couldn't help but worry and make sure you were alright there and then.

You lay on your bed, just lying there with a heavy heart and mind. Neuvillette sat on the edge of the bed and watched you silently, although your eyes were covered by your arm you could sense his stare.

"Everything okay, Nevy?" You had all grown accustomed to giving each other nicknames now, by far the stupidest (and cutest, you deny it though) is "Snookums" Can you guess who? Childe.

"I should be the one asking you that," Neuvillette chuckles as he turns to face you, slowly and gently moving your arm away from your face. You cast him a curious look, wondering what he knew and what he didn't.

You knew you were bad at covering up your feelings and lying but was it really that bad? "What do you mean? I'm fine if anything" You huffed, sitting up on your bed.

Neuvillette hummed, observing your face and body language, you were definitely not fine. "Don't give me that look Nevy, I swear I'm fine."

You swear? Should you really be swearing something like that..? You were not fine at all and you knew it.

"Okay fine, something did happen—well, IS happening but it's a very small matter so there's no need for you to worry."

Seconds passed with Neuvillette continuing to stare at you, but the more time passed the more he noticed how uncomfortable you got, obviously you did not want to speak about what was going on.

Neuvillette finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence. "I won't pry, Y/N. But if you ever need anything or advice I'm here, we're here." He hinted that you could talk to anyone you like (ahem the 24 men) not just him.

You were thankful for his kindness but this was your business, you didn't want to drag them into your business. "Could you leave me alone just for a bit? I'm sorry..." Neuvillette dismissed your apology and instead apologized for his behaviour.

"No, it's okay. If anything I apologize for making you uncomfortable. If you need me I'll be in the living room alright? Got to make sure those boys aren't causing a ruckus now."

His words made you smile as you nodded your head, thanking him for leaving you alone. When the door closes shut you flop down back onto your bed, finally letting your tears run freely down your cheeks.

All of your bottled-up feelings came pouring out, and you couldn't help but restrain your sobs. The taste of salt lingered on your lips, you clutched your chest, fingers digging into the fabric. Everything was all too much and you didn't know what to do, what could you do?

As each day passed you were vigilant when heading out, always looking past your shoulders just incase something were to happen. You wouldn't feel a looming presence or anything but the image of a man in a black hoodie with his face covered coming from behind and attacking you was more than enough to keep you on guard.

Your imagination was wild indeed, you thought of many things that could happen to you, maybe he would come up from behind and place a handkerchief over your mouth that was doused in some sleeping drug?!

Maybe he would follow you home and break in through your window..? That couldn't be possible anyway, you had 28 men in your house, and there was no way he would break in unnoticed.

Currently, you were seated down on a chair, swirling a silver spoon in your cup, the darkly coloured brown blending in nicely with the lighter colours, it was a pretty sight, and along with the warm aroma... It was as if the smell itself could take everything off your mind.

Sighing you looked out the window, enjoying the bright and sunny view, totally contrasting the vibe and light in the room you were in. "Mind if I sit here?"

A soft familiar voice drags you out of your thoughts as you look up, it is the woman from before. You hadn't seen her since the day she informed you about your stalker. "Huh? Oh, yeah of course!" You watch as she sets her bag down beside her chair as she sits herself down.

"What were you looking at? And why aren't you working?" She asked, cocking her head in confusion, a sigh escapes your lips before answering. "Enjoying the view I suppose, and I'm just taking a break.. oh! I haven't seen you for a bit.. how are you?"

Thanks to you, you both managed to have a pretty nice conversation, talking about your hobbies and interests and so on, you both exchanged names as well, learning that her name was Elisa.

Just as your laughter died down Elisa cleared her throat before looking around cautiously, her actions caught your attention as you too, scanned the room. "Uh what are you—" "Just checking for someone, hey, you... have you tried to get help yet? I mean the whole stalker ordeal."

Her voice was barely above a whisper but you somehow managed to hear her clearly, your eyes widened at her words. "Well... I.." You groaned, clearly frustrated.

"I tried to get the police on it but they said I didn't have any evidence and therefore couldn't file a report or something, I'm not used to dealing with these kinds of things so maybe I'm doing something wrong.."

Elisa attentively listened to your words, humming as you spoke. "I see.. what about we exchange contact, I'll help you!" Elisa grinned, your eyes widened from shock, was she really willing to help you out?

"Wait—really? Are you sure?" Still a bit shocked you narrow your eyes at her, you didn't want her caught up in your mess. "Mhm, positive. Besides, my father's the Chief!" Elisa really was an angel.

You grab out your phone before switching the phone with Elisa to exchange contact. As you typed in your number Elisa spoke up, "You haven't unlocked your phone yet." Looking up you see your phone in your face with just the lock screen on. "Oh, sorry!"

Grabbing your phone you unlocked your phone before passing it back to Elisa, you were done with your number so you set her phone down on the table, waiting for her to be done. As Elisa punched her number she couldn't help but remember your lock screen.

Speaking of phones, you really ought to buy a phone or something sooner or later to contact them in case something happens.. and vice versa.

Finally, Elisa was done as she gave your phone back before taking hers. "Your lock screen," She began, you pouted in confusion. "My.. lock screen?" Elisa nods, "who are they? They're quite handsome.." You perk up as she mentions them.

You begin to explain how they were your "friends" and when you took that picture.

"I remember the day I took this, I think this was.. a couple of days ago? I wanted to try out that "finger heart" trend on TikTok with all of them! Of course, normally it's just with two but since I wanted to include them all I just concluded for me to do the heart with him,"

You point at Al-haitham, a soft fond smile spreads across your lips remembering how he begrudgingly agreed to make a finger heart with you.

"And the rest would just make a heart with their hands!" You chirped, putting your phone back in your pocket. Elisa nods her head, a faint yet noticeable blush tinting her cheeks. "I see..."

Elisa sits there across from you, contemplating something all the while you begin to hum a soft tone and sip your drink. You both stayed silent (not that you minded), doing your own thing. Elisa occasionally glanced up at you, watching your every move and your face.

If, in the end, she helps you get that stalker in jail and lock him up.. would you help her hook her up with one of them? Just the thought itself makes her feel all giddy.

After an hour you decide to pack up your things and clock off, you were more than happy with the fact that your new friend, Elisa, would help you catch your stalker but you couldn't get your hopes up too high just yet.

You waved goodbye to Elisa and the owner before opening the door, the wind chimes tinkling with the wind. "Hey—Wait up!" Turning around you could see Elisa running towards you, her tote bag hanging on her shoulder as she rushed towards you.

"How about I walk you home? You must not feel safe nowadays.." She stated, scanning your face in the hopes of finding her answer quickly. "I guess so, thank you once again." A faint smile appears on your lips before turning around and holding the door open for her.

The walk back home was peaceful, you felt quite safe around Elisa. Besides, no person who would want to attack someone would do it out in broad daylight.. especially not when they had another person with them.

You made little talk during the walk back, opting to stay a bit quieter as you noticed how Elisa seemed to really be thinking hard. Maybe she was planning to catch the man? Either way, you shouldn't disturb her.

Finally, you reach your home, walking up to the front door you fumble for the keys in your bag. After finding it you slid it into the keyhole before turning it followed by the sound of a "click!".

You were finally home.

Turning around you waved goodbye to Elisa with a smile. "See you soon!" Elisa waved back and eye your home, so this is where you lived. It was a modest and simple.

Stepping into your home you closed the door behind you and locked it before placing your bag down and hurriedly kicking off your shoes, "I'm home!" You yelled out, taking off your jacket and placing it over a chair.

The sounds of people scurrying could be heard, and that's when you spotted Aether speed walking towards you, the others surrounding him running after him (more like you) was a funny sight and before you knew it Aether was embracing you lovingly in his arms.

"I missed you so much Y/N!" Aether blurts out, his cheek pressed against yours. "We, We missed you too Y/N" Diluc clears his throat, clearly not liking how Aether was hogging you all up.

As a bicker between the boys ensues with the attempt of Scaramouche trying to pry Aether and Heizou off of you, a small snicker escapes your lips. The scene itself was hilarious but this was what you really needed after a long day.

Scara, Heizou and Aether stopped fighting and turned to face you along with the rest of the men, some of the others were in your bedroom (they knew you were here but stayed in your room knowing you'd come in and greet them sooner or later).

"I missed you guys too." A small smile breaks outs as you pat Aether's head. With no delay, they began to fight once again, why? Apparently, you had given Childe the look that Itto saw.

Despite all the ruckus they caused (not that you're complaining but sometimes it gets out of hand, but you have the help of the others!), you still loved them regardless and enjoyed their presence.

The weekend soon came over (thank the Lord) and you could finally relax. Currently you were sitting on the floor with your back pressed up against the couch, Kaeya laid on your lap, his head resting on your thighs and boy was he in heaven.

It was as if your thighs and his head were meant to be... the perfect combo. Baizhu sat next to you, sipping on a juice box (he had grown quite fond of them) while watching the TV.

Wriothesley was sitting by your other side, chatting with Cyno, Venti and Kazuha. Yes, it was an odd sight to see them all interacting when they were all different from one another but it was cute at the same time, they were all talking about their experiences back in Teyvat.

(Cough cough Y/N please come back to Teyvat cough cough)

All the while Thoma along with Ayato were making lunch in the kitchen, it was always either Thoma, Aether or Ayato cooking but it wasn't like you were complaining.

Not only that but you were dead set on learning to bake with them, so now you had something to be looking forward to next week where you would begin your baking lessons.

As you sit there watching the TV with the men and stuffing your mouth with chips you suddenly feel a buzz next to your leg. Looking down you notice your phone screen lighting up from a text sent to you by... Elisa?

You picked up your phone and began to type back.

El: Y/N! you on? i got some really good news!

Y/N: i'm on! and really? you gotta tell me asap

You see the small chat bubble of Elisa typing, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you watch her type until she sends her message.

El: we caught the guy :) long story short when i went back home i talked to my father about it and just by a chance he said that there were multiple other reports of people reporting a strange man following them and other coincidences and all...

El: my father began to search for the man on his own and guess what! he saw the same exact described man just walking around the park looking super suspicious.. i mean how stupid can a man be!! 😭

A grin spreads on your cheeks as you let out a sigh of relief, thank God... you were expecting this case to be dragged on for a bit as you've seen from the movies but ultimately it wasn't and for the better too!

After sending a message back to her, you couldn't stop yourself from profusely thanking her and her help to which she said it was no problem.

It felt as if a large boulder was lifted from your shoulders as your shoulders dropped. "Oh finally.." You muttered to yourself, closing your phone shut and placing it back down.

"Everything alright?" Kaeya questioned as he stared at your phone and back at you. "You seem quite happy." Looking down at Kaeya you smiled and nodded your head.

"Mhm, I'm really happy right now, it's nothing much don't worry." Kaeya doesn't respond but rather turns around before wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his face in your stomach.

You were used to his affection, this was nothing compared to the other things he does. Sigh.

This whole ordeal didn't feel real, you were thankful it was over, yes, but it felt so.. quick. You were feeling uneasy and on edge for weeks but then in a day it just ends?

It didn't feel real, but it was, and you were more than happy. As you were thinking about everything you were dragged out of your thoughts by Cyno's voice.

"Hey Y/N! Want to hear some new jokes I made up just right now?" Cyno's eyes glisten with anticipation as he watches you. "Hmmm, sure why not?" The smile on your face didn't waver as you noticed how giddy Cyno looked, adorable.

Before you knew it you were laughing and tearing up how stupid yet funny Cyno's jokes were, the jokes themselves weren't so.. funny but the way he delivered them sure did something to you.

Cyno stared at you in awe as you clutched your stomach from laughter, wiping away your tears. "W—wait say t-that again! Say it again!" You cried, unable to hold back your laughter.

"Say no more!"

And in the end, you were literally sprawled out on the floor, trying your best to catch a breath. After a couple of minutes you spot Diluc right above you, Diluc crouched down and eyed you.

"Time to get up now, it's not the best to stay down on the dirty floor." You groaned at his words and closed your eyes, you felt fine and it was quite relaxing anyway.

Despite your protests to stay down and relax Diluc repositioned himself and scooped you up like it was nothing in bridal style. Not that you were complaining though.

"How come redhead can carry Y/N but we don't?" Heizou whispered to Aether. "I don't know.. because you don't... try?" "True that.. wait redhead?"

Next thing you know you were resting on Diluc's thighs (a coincidence for Kaeya to be on your thighs and now you're on Diluc's..) and staring at the men (Cyno, Itto, Wriothesley.. managed to pull him in somehow, and Thoma) below you play UNO.

"Hmmm.." You softly hummed to yourself, trying to brainstorm some ideas on what to do tomorrow as it was still the weekend, maybe shopping? No, too boring. Maybe a park...?

A park seemed like a good idea, there was a lot of space and the one you were thinking of going to wasn't too crowded and barely any people went there unless to walk their dogs.

While in your thought you felt Diluc tap your shoulder. "Thinking of something?" He asked, eyes meeting yours. You sigh and turn so that your back is on his thighs. "Yeah, what do you think of going out somewhere tomorrow? Just a park, you know."

"A park, you say?" Diluc repeated as he gave it some thought, it didn't sound too bad, besides, they've been in your house for wayyyy too long.

So why not?

"Of course, I'm sure the rest would be relieved to finally go outside and play around." Diluc held a smile as his eyes waved to the men beside him and around the living room. "I hope it goes well" You mumbled.

"I'm sure it will."

note: ?!?!!? YAY i finally finished it after a month I AM SO SORRY FOR HOLDING IT OFF FOR SO SO LONG

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(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[skyahri]

Remember Part Four |SatoSugu X Reader| HC Series

Part Three Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Y'all, I'm so sorry it's so late. My mind has been buzzing in a different direction.

- - - - -

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Satoru..."

He'd been begging to join you on your unofficial outing for the better part of an hour. He'd been following you around, making empty promises to behave and offering you random things in return if you'd just allow him to accompany you. But you knew better, and after nearly thirteen years of knowing the man, it was safe to assume he'd only cause a headache.

"I'm serious. Let me go with you. You don't have to do everything by yourself, you know."

"Satoru..."

Your patience is wearing thin at this point. There's a silent warning that follows the hiss of his name, but he ignores it all the same.

"Just let us in. Let us help."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I know it has something to do with Suguru."

You froze, staring blankly in front of you for only a moment before turning around to face him. His expression was hard, something that you've seen many times over the years, but never one you'd expect from pre-tragedy Gojo- someone still high on the spoils of his upbringing and blind to the heartache of the real world.

He'd said it with all the confidence in the world, like it was a fact and not some half-assed conclusion he (and presumably Geto, too) had come to. Your lack of response and obvious shock must have been all the confirmation he needed- to say everything that's been on his mind since that encounter in the bathroom two weeks ago. To hell with Suguru's endless warnings about coming on too strong. He was tired of waiting for you to come around.

"You're struggling..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft, like he was worried he'd spook you, "You don't sleep. You skip meals. You disappear without so much as a goodbye. We know you're doing all of this for the greater good, or whatever, but it's hard watching you kill yourself in the process. I just want to take some of the weight off of you, but you won't let me."

You can only stare up at him. He'd tipped his glasses down to the tip of his nose, allowing you to look into his pretty blue eyes. (That asshole knows your weaknesses). It's easy to get a read on him, the seriousness of his words reflecting perfectly on his face. But even if he does mean it, you can't bring yourself to drag him into your never-ending pit of hopelessness.

"I appreciate it, Satoru, but I can't take that kind of risk. This could very well be my only shot and I can't risk losing him just because I can't handle a little pressure-"

"It's not a little pressure and we both know it."

"You just don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!"

"He leaves, Satoru!"

Maybe he's more in tune with your brain than you are, or maybe he just knows all the right buttons to push, because the stress simmering in your mind seems to bubble over in that moment. You inhale sharply and let it all out.

"Things happen, terrible things, and it changes him, and he just... leaves. I can't tell you because I can't risk fucking up our only chance to save him. I just-" a heavy sob breaks through your sentence, but it doesn't deter you, "I love you and you love me, but we love him. We need him, Satoru, and he isn't around. We're not the same. We're sad and empty and it's lonely."

It spills out like word vomit. You can't control what you're saying and you can barely process the actual syllables, but you don't stop.

"I can't spend another decade wearing his shirts that you've spritzed with his cologne and wishing he were there. I can't spend another Sunday looking at the extra chair we keep at the dining table just in case he comes back. I avoid your nightstand because I know you keep a ring in there for him. You and I still text in the group chat even though he's been inactive since that night!"

Satoru is quiet for once in his life. He's been completely stunned into silence, not daring to interrupt your ranting. Your eerily calm pleading turned into shouting at some point and he's grateful for the privacy of an empty school on a particularly busy day.

He hates the tears in your eyes, even more so when they start to drip down your flushed cheeks. He wishes that he had better listened to all of Suguru's annoying lectures about sympathy and empathy (or whatever it's called) because he's grossly ill-prepared for this conversation.

He settles on pulling you into a hug, because while words aren't his strong suit, actions certainly are. He lets you cry into his chest without complaint. You grip the fabric of his school-issued white button-up and let go of all the pent-up grief from the past twelve years.

"So,"

He waits for you to become slightly more composed.

"What are we gonna do about it?"

You chuckle at how unapologetically comfortable he is with himself. You don't remove yourself from his embrace, choosing instead to hide the incoming tension.

"We stop him."

"From?"

"A year and a half from now, Suguru goes on a solo mission to a small village, where he will kill a hundred and twelve villagers. He takes over a cult, whose new goal is to kill all non-sorcerers in an attempt to end curses forever."

Satoru swallow hard. Honestly, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"... seriously?"

Well, apparently not that.

You push off of him and punch him square in the chest. It's playful, kind of, lightening the atmosphere a bit.

"Okay, okay. I just mean, like, if Suguru were to switch sides, that's definitely the prerogative he'd take. So, what now?"

- - - - -

You sat across from him on the city bus to your destination, an envelope in his hands.

"This is it?"

There are three newspaper clippings inside. Obituaries, spaced years apart, and non-specific. Names, dates, and kind words, but nothing more.

"Yeah... that's it."

Satoru slumps back in his seat, his blue and white kimono fanning out across the seat. He sighs and slides further down, pouting like a child who didn't get his way.

"Why not wait until we have more information, then? Seems like a waste to me."

"They host a harvest festival twice a year to bring in money, but other than that, it's pretty closed off. This is the only time I can gather information without raising suspicion."

"What are we looking for?"

"Suguru spares two little girls. I only met them once and I didn't have the opportunity to ever ask him about it, so my knowledge is limited. I know they're sorcerers and that they adored Suguru, but nothing else. I was hoping to check out their home situation, if possible. The request the elders send in is very... hostile to say the least, so I was wondering if there was some build-up to the event."

"You think maybe they're being mistreated? Suguru would definitely snap over something like that."

"I think that something happened right around the time the girls would've acquired their cursed techniques. Villages like this tend to be irrationally superstitious. Three unexplained deaths and two girls who can see monsters probably won't go over very well."

Satoru let his head fall onto the window with a loud thunk. His brain was starting to hurt. Is this really what you're up to when you sneak off? Coming up with an elaborate hypothesis based on nothing but (only possibly relevent) future knowledge and guesswork? He'd only been on the case for two hours and he was already drained.

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Depends. I brought some talismans to hide around the area at the very least. If we see anything concrete, we'll return to the school and submit an official request to Yaga."

"I don't understand why we're sneaking around. Isn't future vision a good enough reason to investigate?"

"I'd like to keep this whole thing away from the elders if possible. Yaga and I have an understanding of sorts, but the geezers aren't as amicable."

You knew Satoru could at least understand that much. While he doesn't have the extensive experience you have with them yet, he's still vividly aware of just how scrutinizing they can be.

You can see the restlessness settle onto his face. He hates the back road way of things, preferring to charge in head first and think about consequences later- a big reason (among many) that you didn't initially plan to key him into any of this.

"We can't just, I don't know, ask Suguru to chill out or something?"

You lean over him and flick his forehead. He flinches back and starts to complain, but is cut off by the screeching of the bus's brakes.

The two of you exit the vehicle and make your way down the dirt path that leads to the village. You expected to feel something, anything really, but even once you're past the torii there's nothing. No cursed energy, residuals, or any sign of abnormality.

Satoru must not see anything either, because his brows are pulled together and there's a slight frown on his face.

Even without seeing anything off about the place, it's still weird. The only time you've ever been here before was directly after the massacre. Now, not only are all of the villagers alive, but the whole area is bustling with tourists.

You only have a moment to glance over the sea of people before Satoru is pulling you over towards the food stands. He heads straight for the Takoyaki stand and stuffs a handful of yen into the vendor's hand. He practically shoves one of the trays in your face and takes one for himself before pulling you off again.

"Satoru, stop! What are you doing? We aren't here to dick around!"

Two minutes. It's only been two minutes and yet he's already lost sight of the goalpost.

He doesn't show any signs that he's heard you, instead opting to maneuver through people until you're parked next to a giant oak tree on a small hill. He drops the wrist he had taken and turns around. He's wearing that shit-eating grin, the one that clearly says he's up to no good and doesn't feel all that sorry about it.

"We can do both. Enjoy the sights, eat some food, grab some fresh produce, and gather information. Consider it a win-win situation."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come. You never take anything seriously."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing two things at once, princess. Besides-"

He grabs your tray and sets both down on the ground. He turns you around rather aggressively and pushes on your shoulders until you're both sat on the grass, his long legs awkwardlybent on either side of you. He leans forward so his head is over your shoulder and his hands slide down to rest on your elbows.

"Look."

You're rolling your eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting, about to lecture him, but then you see it- two little girls, a blonde and a brunette.

They're with two people who you can only assume are their parents. They seem fine. Happy. Healthy. Smiles on their face, sweet pastries in their hands, and powdered sugar on their cheeks.

You glance around from your elevated space and notice that everyone you can confidently assume belongs to this village looks fine. Vendors are laughing with their customers and farmers are helping kids pick berries off the remaining bushes.

"I don't understand..."

"It's just too early to intervene. We'll come back in the summer and go from there, okay?"

You relax your body and lean back into him.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now,

He hands you the tray kindly this time and leans back just enough so he can enjoy his own while still invading your personal space.

"How about we eat our Takoyaki, browse around a bit, hang up some talismans, and then head back home? Suguru should be back tonight."

He'd successfully worn you down. You couldn't argue with him even if you wanted to. He'd gone with you to the (apparently useless) event, found exactly what you were looking for, and solidified that nothing could be done quite yet.

So what else is there to do besides having to his demands?

"... alright."

Nothing.

He smiled at you.

"Good girl."

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[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

[luveline]

I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.

I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.

kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k

"Hello," you whisper.

He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes. 

"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren." 

He looks up. "How'd you do that?" 

You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.  

"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back." 

"Avery?" Steve asks. 

Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose. 

"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur. 

"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster." 

He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard." 

"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything." 

You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve." 

"You're welcome." 

The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses. 

"Thanks for doing bed time." 

You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs. 

"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you." 

Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.

You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H." 

His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that." 

Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch. 

"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?" 

"Loads." 

You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you. 

"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly." 

"Deviously?" 

"Ambitiously. A shit ton." 

You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips. 

With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling. 

He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss. 

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eleven

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence against reader. Also some very smutty smut using toys (not related to the violence). All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : Please, please, please read the warning. I'm sorry it's probably a little spoiler-y but I'd rather be safe than sorry even though I don't tend to write these things in the most graphic way. If you don't want to read it, it's the last few hundred words of the chapter (I think it's pretty well telegraphed). Also, I'm sorry for this, please don't hate me 😅

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eleven

Billy didn’t go back to work and, as the days passed it got harder and harder to tell if he was better for it. Every time you’d mention it, he’d mutter something about Frank, about not wanting to have to deal with it and, then, distract you by telling you about how he’d rather spend time with you. And, when that stopped working, when you’d try to talk to him about it, he’d move onto more physical means of distraction.

But every time his phone buzzed or lit up with a notification, you’d see his irritation flare.

You sat with your legs draped over his lap as you tried to concentrate on your book, The Count of Monte Cristo, while Billy read emails on his phone. You had wanted to suggest doing something, going out for a drive or to see a movie, but Billy seemed tired and you didn’t want to bother him.

His phone buzzed and he huffed.

“Was that work?” You dared to ask him and received a grumbled answer in response. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to avoid it forever, Billy...”

“I’m not avoiding it,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over your bare calf, “I just don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“He’s not going to change his mind about us unless you talk to him,” you tried again. “Unless you’re planning on skipping work for the next eight months...”

At this point, you were starting to wonder if that was the plan, if Billy was simply going to stay home every night until your contract was over. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go back to work. But, as much as you were enjoying having him in the penthouse every night, you felt responsible, like you were fucking up his life.

“We could go away together? Somewhere with a beach?” He tried to change the subject.

“Billy...” 

“I don’t want him to ruin this for us,” he relented, his tone turning tense. “These last few days have been so good and I just want it to last a little longer.”

“He’s not going to ruin anything,” you told him. “We get to decide what this is. No one else. I just don’t want you to burn bridges and wreck your life for me.”

He fell silent and you hoped he was thinking about what you were trying to tell him. As much as the incident at the party had upset you, you couldn’t just think about yourself; in just over eight months time, you’d be gone and Billy would have to carry on without you. You didn’t want him to lose friends or damage his business on your account.

“Fine, I’ll go in tomorrow.”

You kept your relief to yourself, not wanting to say or do anything to anything that might make him change his mind. Your attention returned to your book while Billy got up and headed for the kitchen, answering his phone as he went. Obviously he wanted some privacy, but that didn’t stop you from trying to listen in to Billy’s quietly spoken half of the conversation.

“What do you mean you lost her?” He practically hissed. “How did she even... past security... whose plus one?” 

His voice got lower making it impossible for you to hear anything else, but the call lasted at least another minute and the look on Billy’s face when he returned told you far more than words ever could; he was frustrated. 

“Is everything okay?”

“It will be,” he answered cryptically. You gave him a questioning look urging him to explain. “I’m just making sure Krista can’t get near you again.”

“Oh.”

It was the first time he’d mentioned her since the party. You hadn’t asked. Honestly, you hadn’t wanted to. The less you thought about other women Billy had let into his life, the better.

“I’m not going to let her hurt you,” Billy promised, sitting back down and pulling your legs back onto his lap. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You both fell back into silence; your attention returned to your book and Billy continued to look at his phone, reading through messages and declining calls. Eventually, put his phone face down on the coffee table. Over the top of your book, you watched him rub his eyes and slouch back.

For a moment you thought he might close his eyes and try to rest but, instead, he caught you peeking at him.

“You know, I was thinking about the other night,” he said as his hand moved back to your leg and softly caressed your bare skin, from your ankle up to the hem of your cropped leggings and back again.

“Which part of the other night?” You asked, a hint of warmth already starting to bloom across your cheeks.

His fingers wrapped around your ankle, lightly holding you, as if he thought there was any chance that you might try to pull away from him.

“The part when you had my cock in your mouth, giving me the best blowjob of my life, and you came without my permission,” he stated with a smirk, making a point of ignoring the way your breath caught. You bit your lip as he looked at you. “You owe me an orgasm, hummingbird.”

“Is that my punishment? To come for you?” You asked, trying to fight back your embarrassment so you could play his game.

His smirk turned to something darker, something almost sinister, something barely restrained and full of wanting. “That depends on if you want consequences for breaking the rules.”

Your heart skipped a beat; at the unasked question and the hungry way he was looking at you. Already he seemed to be forgetting about work, Krista, and everything else that had upset him, and you wanted to keep him that way. 

“They wouldn’t really be rules if they didn’t have consequences,” you said, trying to hide your nerves though you were sure he could see right through you.

“Are you willing to accept any punishment that I choose?” He asked and you nodded. “So, if I told you to go to your room and bring back one of your toys, you’d do it?”

You stopped breathing. You felt completely frozen, like even your heart didn’t know whether to beat or not. Your cheeks felt like they were burning and your wide eyes were fixed on him.

A couple of seconds later, Billy opened his mouth, no doubt about to tell you that you didn’t have to, that he was only playing around. There was a flash of something like embarrassment on his face, regretting taking things too far.

“Yes,” the word leaving your lips in an awkward squeak before he could walk back the question.

Billy seemed just as surprised as you were, so much so that he hesitated before responding, leaving you with time to change your mind if you wanted to. But you didn’t want to change your mind. You had no idea what he was planning or what he wanted to do, but you wanted it, in part because you wanted to try and bring him out of his frustrated mood but, also, because you were feeling brave.

He licked his lips, waiting a second more, not taking his eyes off of you.

“Okay then, go and get the toy you used the morning I heard you moaning my name,” he said, a hint of daring in his tone, as if he was still expecting you to back out. 

Moving your legs from his lap, you stood up and slowly started to walk towards your rooms, trying your best to just breathe through the waves of panic and excitement that were crashing over you. Your steps got quicker once you’d slipped through the door to your room, not wanting to overthink what might happen in case it made you want to back out.

You quickly retrieved the blue vibrator and returned to Billy, watching as his grin grew wider. You didn’t realise that you were clutching it tightly in both hands until Billy extended his hand. 

Your heart raced as he took the toy from you and inspected it, turning it in his hand before looking back at you. Without saying a word, Billy reached for you, placing his hand on your chest above your racing heart and for a few seconds his eyes shut, just enjoying the moment. Then he kissed you, pulling you close. Your own eyes fluttered shut.

His fingers hooked on the waistband of your leggings and you helped him lower them, stepping out of them without breaking the kiss. 

A gasp slipped out against his lips as you felt him press the toy between your thighs, softly rubbing it against you over your panties. You tensed when he turned it on, a bolt of arousal running up your spine, causing you to arch your body against him.

He moved you back, leading you down onto the sofa and following after, keeping his lips against yours and the toy between your legs.

It wasn’t long before your hips started to move, desperately seeking more friction despite how self-conscious you felt. Your heart was still racing and embarrassment was clawing beneath your ribs, but you wanted more. And so did Billy.

The toy was dropped onto the sofa while his hands started to pull at your panties, revealing you to him.

“Fuck, hummingbird, you’re soaked already,” he muttered, roughly tugging your panties the rest of the way down, leaving you in nothing but your baggy shirt that had ridden up to just below your bust.

Your cheeks burned as he lifted the panties to his face and took a long inhale through his nose. His body shuddered and tensed.

“How is it that everything about you makes me want?” He asked, dropping your panties to the floor. He slipped the vibrator between your legs again, pressing the tip against your clit before turning it on again. “I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never have enough of you.”

Before you could even try to wrap your head around what he was saying, his lips were on yours, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth. 

It wasn’t long before you were moaning against his lips, almost forgetting that this was supposed to be punishment. Almost forgetting that you didn’t have his permission to come. 

He pulled the vibrator back just in time, turning it off. “Not until I say so.”

You nodded, taking deep breaths and trying to calm yourself. When you were ready, you felt the toy between your folds as he coated it in your arousal, before positioning it at your entrance. 

Your lips parted and a moan tore from you as he began to fill you. Wet enough to take the toy without any resistance, it wasn’t long before every inch was inside of you, and Billy started to fuck you with it. He started slow, but it didn’t last.

“Moan for me,” he groaned against your neck, still fucking you with the toy, “moan for me like you did that morning...”

“Billy...” you moaned, then; “Mr Russo...”

You heard his breath catch and a growl claw its way from him, and even though you were at his mercy, it made you feel powerful.

“Mr Russo...” you gasped, over and over.

His lips covered yours, swallowing down the moans that he’d asked for, as if he’d realised that it was too much, that he couldn’t take anymore. He pulled back the toy, almost slipping it from you entirely before filling you with it again and starting to set a much faster pace. Your eyes stayed closed tight, imagining that it was Billy inside you, that he was finally giving you what you both craved.

That thought alone had you clenching around the toy, your arousal climbing higher and higher, pushing you closer to breaking point. He took you right to the precipice before pulling the toy out, leaving you empty and unfulfilled. 

Your eyes opened, fixing on him, whining when you saw his smirk.

“You wanted a punishment,” he told you darkly, tormenting you by pressing the tip of the vibrator against you, pulling it back again when you shifted your hips, trying to push yourself onto it. “If you misbehave you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

You stilled immediately, earning a smile from Billy. He kissed you softly, distracting you as he turned the vibrator back on and ghosted it over your swollen clit. Again, you squirmed, wanting more than just a grazing touch.

“Do I have to tie you down?” He asked against your lips, his tone causing your heart to race a little faster, leaving no doubt in your mind that he’d do it. 

It should have worried you, maybe even scared you, but all you could think about was the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

Billy continued to tease you, but even those gentle touches were enough to start you climbing towards orgasm, and he knew it. Every fibre of your being seemed to tense, like thousands of springs being coiled too tight, at any moment you knew that you’d snap.

But, again, Billy denied you.

“Billy,” you pleaded as a feeling of discomfort started to fill you.

“I think I preferred Mr Russo,” he teased, an edge to his voice that sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Mr Russo,” you tried again, wanting to give him whatever he wanted.

“That’s better.” A moment later, he had the toy against your lips and a dark grin on his lips. “Open up.”

You hesitated for a beat before doing what you were told, parting your lips and letting him slip the vibrator into your mouth. Without being asked, you started to suck the toy as he moved it in and out of your mouth.

“I dream about this mouth,” he groaned against your ear, “and these perfect lips, and how good they feel wrapped around my cock. It’s like you were made just for me.”

Another moan escaped you as his teeth nipped your ear. When he lifted himself over you again, he stared, watching the toy as he fucked your mouth with it, his jaw set. You kept your eyes on his, letting him see exactly what he was doing to you. 

You licked your lips when he finally pulled the toy away. You didn’t look down, didn’t beg for what you needed, you just kept looking at him, giving him complete control.

“Mr Russo...” you gasped as he plunged the toy between your walls again, this time moving at a merciless pace that you knew you’d never be able to withstand.

“Come for me,” he demanded, turning the vibrator back on as he fucked you with it.

You did as ordered, crying out as your body was finally granted relief.

You weren’t sure when he’d pulled his cock from his sweatpants, but there it was as he kneeled over you, your thighs shook wildly as he kept the vibrator buried inside you with one hand and started to desperately fist himself with the other.

He grunted and swore, coming quickly, finally pulling the toy away so he could coat your trembling pussy and thighs with his cum. You whined softly, overstimulated and far too sensitive, as his finger ran through your folds pushing some of his cum inside you, like he was claiming you and marking you as his.

Reaching for him, you pulled him down into a kiss, expecting things to de-escalate now that you were both satisfied. Instead he kissed you roughly, pressing his hips down against yours, letting you feel how achingly hard he still was.

Your fingers tangled in his hair until he took hold of your wrists and pinned them beside your head. Your breath caught and you struggled against his lips.

“Billy,” you gasped, tearing your lips from his.

If he heard, he gave no response, moving his lips to your neck, sucking and nipping, until you felt something sharp scrape your skin.

Fangs.

“Billy...”

A deep, guttural growl vibrated through his chest - a sound you’d heard before.

There was another scrape against your neck, this time causing pain. But before you could say anything, he was already pulling away from you. He moved awkwardly and suddenly, ending up on the floor next to the sofa, his head in his hands.

“Fuck - fuck - I’m sorry.”

It took a few seconds before you could think straight, reaching up to touch your neck and the small cut he’d left on your skin. Not a bite, just a scratch really, but enough to draw blood.

Torn between comforting him and running, you found yourself frozen, trying to understand what had just happened. And, as you thought back, you hated yourself for not noticing the warning signs sooner; the look on his face, the things that he’d said and the way he’d said them. 

“Hey,” you finally managed, awkwardly sitting up, trying to ignore the mess he’d left between your thighs. Gingerly, you reached for him, running your fingers through his hair. Billy bristled at your touch. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he snapped, head still in his hands, “how can you say it’s okay? How can you keep saying that?”

“Because you stopped yourself. Again,” you answered back. “It’s a scratch, Billy. We both know that you could’ve done so much worse.”

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” Billy demanded, finally lifting his head and letting you see the anguish on his face. “I feel like a fucking timebomb and you’re there acting like you weren’t just five seconds away from death.”

“Would you have killed me?” You dared to ask, cutting through all of the usual bullshit, not sure how else to try and settle the issue once and for all.

“I -” for a moment he just stared at you, torn between what he wanted to tell you and the thing that terrified him more than anything, “- I don’t know. I - I don’t even know if I wanted to kill you or...”

A chill ran through you at what was left unsaid, filling that blank with a dozen terrible thoughts, and when you didn’t immediately respond, Billy took that as a sign, pulling away and getting to his feet.

“Stop,” you quickly got up, legs feeling weak beneath you while your hands pulled your baggy shirt down to try and cover yourself. “Please don’t go.”

“Why are you fighting so hard for me?”

“Because someone has to, Billy,” you told him without hesitation, “because you deserve to have someone on your side, even if you don’t think that you do. You haven’t hurt me and I don’t think that you will, so stop trying to scare me.”

He seemed stunned by the sudden firmness in your tone, so much so that he didn’t try to argue.

“Now, sit down. I need to go clean up,” you told him, taking a step back. “If you try to leave while I’m gone, I will never forgive you.”

Billy hesitated but soon sat, fixing his gaze on the window while you grabbed your leggings and panties from the floor and headed towards your rooms.

You cleaned up as quickly as you could, putting a bandaid over the cut on your neck and changing into your pyjamas when you were done. As quick as you were, it still felt too slow and your heart was pounding uncomfortably with the thought that he’d be gone by the time you made it back out to the penthouse.

But he wasn’t. He was exactly where you’d left him.

You cleared the distance and sat beside him, throwing your arms around him before he could even think about protesting, holding him tight.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be around you right now,” he told you, his voice betraying his exhaustion.

“I think it is. I think this is the best place for you right now.” You said, watching as the confusion on his face deepened. “Just let me look after you. I don’t want to be alone right now, and I don’t think you do either...”

Moving slowly, you reached for a cushion and placed it on your lap, patting it softly.

“Lay down,” you said softly, leaning a little so you could take hold of his hand and gently urge him towards you. 

After a moment of hesitation, Billy moved, laying down and resting his head on the cushion. You started to gently run your fingers through his hair, and heard an awkward breath escape him.

“I used to get sick a lot when I was a kid and my nanna used to sit with me like this for hours,” you told him softly, watching as, little by little, he let himself relax.

You let a few minutes pass in silence, watching as the tension started to leave him, fingers still running through his hair. Eventually, you reached for the TV remote and put on Netflix, starting the next episode of Black Sails.

“Pirates again?” He grumbled, the weight of his exhaustion seeming to catch up with him. You weren’t sure what caused him to lose control, but you were starting to realise just how much effort it took for him to rein it back in.

“Pirates again,” you confirmed. “Just close your eyes and relax.”

The whole while you kept stroking his hair, letting your eyes drop to him every few minutes, watching as he slowly gave up on trying to keep his eyes open. It was hard to tell if he was sleeping, but he was certainly more relaxed than he had been.

Hours passed. After three episodes of Black Sails, you decided to turn off the TV and close your eyes. At some point you drifted off, only to be woken when Billy started to move. His body was tense, eyes still shut tight, letting out the most heart rending little mutters, sounding like a terrified, wounded animal. 

For a short while, you waited, hoping it would pass and he’d settle again, but it just seemed to get worse.

“Billy?” You tried, gently at first, running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. “Billy, it’s just a dream. You’re okay.”

He awoke with a gasp.

“Hey, you’re okay, everything’s okay,” you continued, still stroking his hair.

“Huh, what  -” it took him a second to realise where he was. You watched him sit up, noticing the way that exhaustion seemed to cling to him. When he reached for his phone to check the time, his hand was shaking so much he almost dropped it. “I’m sorry, I -”

“What are you apologising for?”

“It’s two in the morning, I kept you up all night worrying,” he told you, looking about ready to get up and leave. “I should -”

“You should lay back down and rest. You look exhausted,” you told him softly.

“But you need to sleep too.”

“I was sleeping,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently tugging him back.

As much as Billy wanted to argue, he was too tired. He laid back down while you grabbed your yellow blanket from the back of the sofa and settled behind him, pressing yourself against his back and covering you both.

He gave an uncertain sort of huff. “I’m not used to being the little spoon.”

And, despite the situation, you found yourself bursting into laughter, pressing your face against the back of his neck and holding him all the tighter. A moment later you felt his body shudder with a tired laugh of his own.

“Go to sleep, little spoon,” you muttered sleepily, snuggling closer. 

He was still for a few minutes, leading you to hope he’d fallen asleep until you heard him sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered.

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I’m safer here with you than I would be if I left,” you confessed softly, pressing your lips to the back of his neck

“So I’m the lesser of two evils?”

“No, Billy, you’re who I want to be with, even though I know it’ll never be easy...”

You heard him take an awkward breath before starting to move, turning himself so he could face you. In the dark you could barely make out his face, but you knew he was looking at you. 

“Stay with me,” he said suddenly, desperately, like the thought had been weighing on him for hours.

“I am,” you told him, “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I mean after. I mean for more than a year,” then, much quieter, “forever.” 

“I...”

You fell silent, barely daring to breathe. More than anything, you wanted to say yes; you wanted to belong there with Billy, you wanted to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

“Whatever you’re running from, I can protect you. I can keep you safe,” he continued. “I want to be yours...”

“Billy...”

“I know it’s fucked up to ask you, but I can work on it, I can learn to stay in control, I can -”

“That’s not the problem, Billy. I know you can stay in control, it’s just...” you sighed. “My life is more complicated than you think and I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“Is that a no then?” He asked, sounding broken just at the thought.

“No. I don’t know. I need some time to think,” you tried to explain, earning another sigh from him. “I want you to be mine, Billy. More than anything. But I can’t just say yes now and hurt you in the long run. Just - just give me some time, okay?”

“Okay,” he said before falling silent.

Reaching for his cheek, you pressed your lips to his, and closed your eyes tight. “I want you to be mine. I want to stay. Things are just complicated,” you whispered before letting out a tired sigh, “I’ve been dreaming about falling asleep in your arms...”

“Oh, hummingbird,” he muttered softly, pressing his lips to your forehead and holding you tight.

You didn’t feel him start to move until the break of dawn. In your sleep, you’d shifted, ending up with your head on his chest and your hand beneath his sweater resting on his waist, holding him tight.

He gave you a tired smile as you lifted your head.

“How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Five more minutes,” you muttered sleepily, burying your face against his neck.

Billy laughed, holding you tight and kissing the top of your head. “I’d stay like this with you forever if I could.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying last night. For trusting me,” you told him, keeping your face hidden. “I know it’s not easy for you and you scare yourself sometimes, but it means a lot that you didn’t walk out.”

He didn’t say anything and, even if he had, you weren’t sure what you would have wanted to hear. Instead, you just closed your eyes again and tried to enjoy your five more minutes.

Eventually, you had to let Billy go so he could go to bed. You weren’t sure how much sleep he’d managed to get but you wanted to make sure he was rested before his return to work that night.

That evening, you met him with his blood, nice and warm in his travel mug and ready for him to take to work. He seemed a little unsettled at the prospect, but you didn’t give him time to linger before ushering him out of the penthouse.

You missed having him around, but you hoped he’d be able to fix things with Frank, and that you’d all be able to move on with your lives. It was a quiet night and you spent it relaxing before heading to bed early, falling asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

A loud crash in the penthouse startled you awake some time before four am. Without even stopping to think you shot out of bed and headed for the door.

You stepped out into the gloom, finding the dining table had been flipped and one of the chairs laid broken and splintered against the wall. And, standing amidst the destruction was Billy.

“Billy, what’s -” 

The question was left unfinished. The moment he turned you had your answer. It was like this first night in the kitchen all over again, only somehow worse. His dark eyes fixed on you, his whole body seeming to tremble and twitch like he was trying to crawl out of his own skin.

A low snarl escaped him and, for a split-second, he flashed his fangs.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any of the usual warnings or tell you to stay back, he just watched you edging closer and closer.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You asked softly, knowing you needed to pull him out of it.

As you got closer, you noticed the state of him; his shirt was torn and drenched in blood, and there were deep scratches on his neck like someone had been clawing at his throat. With the holes in his shirt and the cuts on his neck, you couldn’t tell if all the blood belonged to Billy.

You needed to get a closer look.

He gave another snarl. “Don’t.”

But you didn’t let that stop you. You edged closer, trying to get a look at him in the dim light. The corner of his lip curled again, giving you another glimpse at his fangs. His hand tightened to a fist at his side and he almost seemed to move forward before pulling himself back.

“Billy, what happened?” You tried again.

He took a shuddered breath, almost wincing as you reached for him, tenderly placing a hand on his cheek, hoping you could soothe him.

“Who did this to you?”

He leaned into your touch and his eyes closed, and for the briefest of seconds you allowed yourself to believe you’d fixed whatever this was.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist before you could even think to pull away, yanking your arm awkwardly as he forced you backwards, slamming you back against the wall. You yelped in pain, the impact forcing the air from your lungs. And, when you looked in his eyes, Billy wasn’t there anymore.

“Billy,” you gasped, pushing against him, trying to escape his grasp.

A sob slipped out as he forced you back against the wall again, reminding you that you were nothing more than a weak, pathetic human.

Another snarl tore from his lips and he bared his fangs.

You turned and twisted and pulled, doing everything you could to keep him from biting you, raising your knee and hitting him in the groin as hard as you could. Billy staggered, winded, letting out an angry howl, his grip loosening enough for you to pull away.

Starting to run, you almost made it to your door when he grabbed your wrist again, this time pulling so hard that you screamed.

“Mine,” he growled, pulling you back towards him. 

The pain in your arm was overwhelming and only got worse when you tried to move.

“Billy, please,” you sobbed, “this isn’t you. You don’t want to hurt me. Please, don’t ruin this.”

For a moment he almost looked like your words had gotten through to him, but then he continued to pull you towards him, pressing your body to his. 

You lashed out again, kicking and swinging your fist, managing to catch his face in a way that had his nose exploding and blood spraying everywhere.

This time you ran faster, making it into your rooms and into your bedroom.

Billy followed after, only a couple of steps behind, blood pouring from his broken nose.

You tried to shut the door, only to find his hand blocking it - a hand that he quickly pulled back when it started to sizzle. He couldn’t come inside. He couldn’t get to you in your room.

All he could do was stand and stare at you, his chest heaving, his face bloody, looking more monster than man. You clutched your injured arm to your chest, tears streaming down your face.

“I trusted you,” you sobbed, watching for a reaction and getting nothing but anger from the vampire.

A couple of seconds passed before you slammed the door shut and dropped to your knees. A loud thud in the corridor had you crawling towards the door, pressing your back against it even though you knew he couldn’t get in. There were more sounds out in the penthouse, more thuds and bangs before, eventually, everything went silent.

End Note : As much as I love writing chapters like this one, I kinda hate posting them because I know that it's not exactly what some people want to read. So, I guess, no hard feeling if you don't want to continue reading after this one? IDK posting anything darker always makes me a little nervous but I don't want cute fluff all the time, especially not when I'm writing a vampire fic. But I do promise reasons and resolutions to this. It's not just there for shock value, is what I'm trying to say. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now 😅 Thanks for reading! I hope you have a great weekend and, as ever, thanks for all the love and support you showed on the last chapter!!

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[queenofapeacefuldawn]

Spy × Family Chapter 108: An Analysis

So, after a two month wait, we finally got a new chapter! And we were SO well fed LMAO!!!

Anyway, as always, spoilers for Spy × Family Chapter 108 under the cut!

We start off the chapter with Melinda nervously explaining to Yor her reason for being "Lunaluna Selena" in disguise: it's a fun hobby!

And, obviously, she's in disguise out of worry about the rumours that might spread if the former First Lady of Ostania dabbles in mysticism: as it might cause problems with her husband. (Though it is messed up that she has to hide her hobbies from her own husband, but we know how Donovan is).

In the middle of Melinda's monologue about why she loves this sort of thing, she drops a rather odd line:

(First of all: DANDADAN reference anyone?) Kidding, kidding, it was probably just a throw-off line, but what we're really focusing on is: Melinda's emphases on the word "Telepathy".

Now, side note, I'm not sure if the emphasis was to draw our, the readers' attentions to the fact that Melinda believes in the concept of telepathy existing, or if Melinda herself is putting emphasis on the word "telepathy", implying she knows something about the project that Anya was made for.

It is a fascinating thing to put in, though: if one's talking about the things they believe in, then putting "telepathy" in the top three seems like an odd choice, especially if more general terms like "superpowers" or whatever exist.

It does seem very intentional on Endo-sensei's part to put in, especially since, as of now, we don't know how much Melinda knows about Donovan's current plans, or even about what he's done before.

It could be a reference to Anya's past, or some sort of red herring so the reveal of Anya's past can be more shocking. I'm not sure. Yet, I choose to believe that Melinda knows something about Anya's past--- something maybe she found out on accident? Which is why she's so terrified of Donovan?

In essence, this chapter basically confirms that Melinda is suffering some sort of psychological abuse at the hands of Donovan, leading to her fear of him. What's more interesting is that Donovan is intentionally trying to drive a rift between Melinda and the boys. Possibly he's trying to isolate her by keeping them under his thumb, so that she doesn't try to "betray" him? Or maybe he's already threatened the lives of the boys in return for Melinda staying, all for the sake of keeping the "happy family man" image up to the public (though we know how messed up the family really is).

These panels. They confirm that Melinda has thoughts about standing up for herself and Damian (and Demetrius too, I guess--- I think it's implied), but the sheer terror of what Donovan might do holds her back. Half a step forward, a whole leap back. She even says, "Fortune telling [a hobby that she loves dearly] doesn't matter either. What am I doing here?"

So. yeah.

[NOTE: I skipped over the tarot reading part initially so that I could talk about Donovan and his abuse, and connect it to the first bit of the chapter. The tarot reading part comes now.

NOTE 2: All the information about the tarot cards comes from Google. I have no knowledge about tarot, so please take this with a grain of salt, and if I make any mistakes, please don't hesitate in correcting me :)]

These are the cards we see initially.

She says the card representing Anya's present is the Four of Cups. According to Google, it means:

The Four of Cups tend to appear when you are feeling discouraged and unmotivated. You may feel as if there is no solution or way forward in your situation. Life has become stagnant, and nothing seems to make you happy or passionate.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

Which is kind of true in reference to Anya's life as a student. A student's life is filled with studying (God knows I know it), something Anya is apathetic towards. It's also "Plan A" of Operation Strix: through studying, Anya becomes an Imperial Scholar and Twilight makes contact with Donovan Desmond.

Or, it could be an allusion to Melinda's situation: she's discouraged, and feels trapped in her marriage. Nothing makes her passionate anymore, because everything she experiences is tainted by her husband (see: the panel above where she says 'even fortune-telling doesn't matter).

Melinda says that the Death card represents the factors around Anya. There's the obvious joke about "Oh the Grim Reaper's right next to you!" with Yor next to Anya, but the Death card shouldn't be taken literally.

The Death card signals that one major phase in your life is ending, and a new one is going to start. You just need to close one door, so the new one will open. The past needs to be placed behind you, so you can focus your energy on what is ahead of you.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

This is a reference to Anya's previous life as a test subject, and orphan; and how she's left that past behind and been allowed to actually be a child, and how she's finally being loved as she deserves. How her circumstances, the factors around her are changing. It could also pertain to her physical growth, or maybe it was just there for the joke about Yor being the Grim Reaper (which is still pretty ominous. Who is Yor going to have to kill?)

And, finally, the Star in reverse.

When the Star card is reversed, it means that you are feeling as though everything has turned against you. The challenges that you would normally see as exciting seem instead to make you feel as though you cannot overcome them. You have lost faith in something, whether inside yourself or with something you normally find dear.  Without hope, without faith, we cannot find the motivation to progress forward in the challenges that we face. Where in your life are you feeling hopeless? In what ways do you already feel defeated? And how does that affect your actions? The star reversed asks us to nurture our sense of hope and positive energy to help propel our actions with joy instead of fear.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

Since this represents Anya's future... it doesn't look to good. It feels intentionally grey and murky, with no clear answer as to what's going to happen in Anya's future, but it still seems pretty bleak.

Overall, these readings don't seem to point to a future that seems too good for Anya.

I am very afraid what's going to happen to her (and to find out what's going to happen to her), but I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

We still don't know what exactly Anya means by "This feeling... I think I've felt it before...", especially when it's related to Melinda's fear of returning home and to Donovan. Again, it makes me very nervous for her backstory.

Anya and Yor return to where the rest of the gang is, and---

why is he like this.

After Twilight spends the whole day socializing with the other parents, "pumping them for information", Emile talks about how nice it must be to have a nice mom, which leads to this interaction:

This has a striking similarity to the chapter where Anya confesses about her mind-reading powers to Damian: the reassurance back then that Damian loves his dad, and now, the reassurance that Melinda loves him. Parallels about who he loves and idolizes, and now who loves him.

And, it's also so heartwarming that she specifically takes off her mask: showing her, perhaps, most true self to him, especially due to the fact that she comes from a family of actors, constantly putting on masks.

Speaking of masks... we can see a bit of [REDACTED] bleed through the mask of Loid, and Twilight.

It's the same, pensive expression that we see him wear in Episode 35 (Chapter 56), except it's more... tired. More weary. Less affectionate.

(The panel from Chapter 56)

We see a man imagining What Could Have Been, if the trajectory of his life hadn't changed so drastically: especially at a festival much like the one he's currently at.

We see a man tired of war.

We also see it in Episode 3 (Chapter 3)

This is when he's seeing young boys playing, and thinking of himself and his own friends.

Anya doesn't read his mind, but she does read his expression-

And so, the family man mask comes on, but not quite as properly as he'd like.

We can still see [REDACTED] shine through.

It's the same smile he gives Yor and Anya when Nightfall comes over, the smile with, which Fiona notes, "a tiny hint of real emotion seeping out from beneath it".

We jump to some time later, with Director Gorey asking Loid if he's willing to take on a VIP patient who presents a "challenging" case, which is followed by the inevitable reveal that the patient is Melinda.

I think this implies that Melinda has tried seeing psychiatrists before, but none of them worked out for her, or none of them could figure out what was wrong with her (hence the "challenging").

It's also revealed that Yor suggested Melinda sees Loid, which is greatly boosting his mission.

Gorey says that he suspects she's suffering from an intense case of Persecution Complex, so I searched that up.

People with a persecution complex suffer from the feeling that other people are trying to harm them.

(Cambridge Dictionary)

Given Gorey's diagnosis, I'm wondering if he's implying that Melinda is untrustworthy (which also implies that Melinda might have spoken of her fear of her husband--- perhaps in a roundabout way, which also led to her being classified as "challenging".) Though, for this, we'll need to wait and see next chapter.

FINAL THOUGHTS: I really loved this chapter! It definitely was worth the two month wait (and, I hope Endo-sensei is better, I think he took the break because of poor health). I'm excited for the next chapter! Tell me what your thoughts are!

[updownlately]

if you’re gonna waste my time (let’s waste it right)

| leah williamson x reader | hurt/comfort | 3.3k | disclaimer: mentions of anxiety, self loathing, negative thoughts, and depression -this delves into some slightly heavy topics so please read at your own discretion! | a/n: got this ask a while back and an idea struck to me while driving! first fic in a while that i've written in one sitting so let's see how this goes! honestly started off really strong but then idk where we went. anyways, not proofread as usual, but happy reading! take care amigos! and just know that each of you are loved, cared for, and cherished by those around you, even if you don't know it! 🫶

~~~

Fight, flight, or freeze.

They say that every human has these three survival instincts built in.

Instincts meant to protect, to escape, but most importantly, to survive. 

Responses meant to make sure that one would make it out of harm’s way, preferably unscathed. 

Fight, the mechanism that evoked adrenaline. That helped you battle your way through the toughest of encounters. 

That did its best to make sure you were well equipped to tackle any scuffle, minor or major, to the best of your ability.

Flight, the mechanism that helped you run- escape before you couldn’t anymore. 

The one that ensured that you got out before you could be attacked- before you could be hurt.

And then of course, freeze. 

Rooted to your spot, immobile as harm directed itself towards you, one only praying that you could be so still that harm skipped right past you, practically avoiding you as you let it pass. 

Freeze, that left you with a pounding heart, blood rushing in your ears.

Freeze that meant you couldn’t move, body rigid, feet planted, mind stopped in time.

Freeze that kept you stuck. stuck in an endless loop of agony, of shaky breaths, of paralyzing fear.

Freeze, considered the weakest of the three. 

So as you stood there, eyes wide, muscles tense, body frozen, you cursed your mind and body with all that you could, wondering why of the three instincts, freeze was what you had done in order to try and survive.

~~~

There’s something terrifying about the voices that ring in your head.

How they so scarily sound similar to the people in your life, past and present.

Voices reminding you how you aren’t good enough. How you’ve let them down. How maybe if you weren’t there, the world would be okay. That it would move on without a hitch, without a second thought, because when it came to it, at the end of the day, maybe, just maybe, you didn’t really matter anyways.

Voices that sounded like your mother, reminding you of dark nights of you hidden in your room, the harsh words ringing in the four walls of your bedroom, what was supposed to be your safe haven, now tainted with feelings of regret, of disappointment, of outright disgust.

It’d be better if you didn’t exist.

Voices that sounded like your father, angry yells late into the night, enough smashed dishes that left your hands littered with scars that’d never cease to remind you, enough nights spent under your covers silently wiping tears as you prayed that you were quiet enough.

What a waste of air.

Voices that sounded like past coaches and management that knocked you back with each word spoken, each push forward sending you feet yards back, support that felt like hindrance more than anything.

You’d be lucky if you got to play past the little leagues. It’d be a miracle that’s for sure.

Voices that sounded like fans- people that were meant to support you- but you couldn’t force them to. Hundreds if not thousands of comments left, each asking for you to be traded. Hell, they’d take a sack of potatoes if nothing else. 

I can’t believe that we wasted our money on this. Can’t we just, I don’t know, get rid of her? She’s the reason we suck. Maybe if she was half a decent player we’d actually be somewhere in the league.

Comments that repeated your worth. Ingrained it into your mind. Over and over and over again. 

You weren’t good enough.

Sentences that etched themselves into the forefront of your thoughts, always ready to haunt you at the slightest notice. 

You weren’t good enough.

Not now, not ever. 

Not for your own mother or father, never mind your siblings. 

Not for your teammates, nor the fans.

It was a miracle you were even playing professionally in the first place.

God if they took one good look at you maybe they realized how poorly they fucked up by signing you. 

You weren’t a good footballer, barely even a decent one. How you managed to play for this long was a miracle.

They’d notice soon enough though. They had to. They always did.

They’d notice soon enough that you weren’t good enough.

And then?

Then you’d be left with nothing, as you always were.

~~~

You didn’t know when you were led inside to the locker rooms- when that absolutely terrifying moment of being in front of the opposing team’s stands had gone from you taking a corner to being absolutely pelted by random junk. 

From empty bottles (plastic thankfully), to empty food containers, balled-up programs, signs, merch, all being hurled your way, never mind the onslaught of assaults- the stands only repeating everything your mind ever told you, every, single, day. 

You didn’t hear when the ref blew their whistle, nor when the rest of the girls dressed in red crowded you, some chastising the fans along with the away team, others wrapping around you protectively, quickly leading you towards the benches. 

You weren’t there as you were subbed off, your mind still frozen, much like the rest of your body. 

All you knew right now was that you could smell the familiar scent of your girlfriend’s perfume as the heel of your palms pressed harshly into your eyes in an attempt to cease the uproar in your head. 

Breaths getting heavy, you tried your best to calm yourself down.

You weren’t a stranger to panic attacks, and even in your hazed state, you could very well recognize the oncoming situation.

Bringing your arms to wrap around your own stomach in a futile attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort, you felt your breathing pick up as the sharp lights of the room seemed to get darker. 

Room spinning, the voices in your head louder, you could only bring your knees up to your head, body now practically in fetal position as you rode out the attack.

Even with the hundreds you’d had by now, you hadn’t been able to come up with an effective method to deal with them. 

So you sat there, huddled into a ball, body shaking, mind louder than ever as Leah stood above and watched helplessly.

The blonde had been there in the stands to watch you get abused, immediately making her way down to the pitch because ACL and league rules be damned, that was her girlfriend for fuck’s sake. 

She stood by the sidelines, ready to receive you as the obvious substitution occurred, an arm coming to wrap around you as she led your ghost of a body to the locker rooms.

She watched as you mindlessly sat in front of your locker, not a single word uttered from you, not a single response to the quiet comforting words the blonde had whispered to you gently in an attempt to rouse you from your clearly distressed state. 

She itched to reach out and touch you as she saw you slowly curl into a ball, you getting ever so smaller as she could only helplessly watch, you unknowingly  flinching the second she touched your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you.

It was only when your heavy breathing died down every so slightly, nearly fifteen minutes later if the blonde’s perception was right, that she tried again, slowly coming to sit beside you as she gauged your reaction. 

Seeing your shaking start to slow as well, she slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, her own body tense as she watched you stiffen up before you relaxed slightly, letting her pull you into her side as her other hand came to hold your left one.

And long after you had buried yourself into her side, body defeated with the rollercoaster of emotions you’d just experienced, too tired to think of any of the consequences of your actions, you let Leah led you- helping your pull on a hoodie and your jacket and change out of your cleats as she gathered the rest of your gear.

Helpless except able to nod in agreement as the blonde suggested you leave early from the game, you followed her quietly, not a word said from you, as she led you out of the ground and to her car, where you fell asleep within seconds.

It was only when the car pulled up to her house, a place you’d been to many times, your relationship long past new to the both of you, did you rouse, mind still not present and following the blonde.

Leah was good. You trusted Leah. Leah was safe.

The words repeating in your head, you believing they were true like all the other words that crossed your mind, you let yourself sleepily be led up the stairs and up to the ensuite. 

Standing there awkwardly as you slowly came to the situation, the lights in the washroom waking you up, your shoulders sunk as the embarrassment from earlier set in. 

God you were an embarrassment. First a panic attack in front of the English skipper, and now this- you stood helplessly in her bathroom like you were broken, waiting to be fixed.

You watched in dread as the blonde flitted around the joint closet, quickly gathering a change of clothes for you before she stacked them neatly on the countertop, handing you a towel and starting the shower, not meeting your eyes.

What you didn’t know was that she didn’t want to scare you off, intimidate you as her heart ached at the shameful look in your eyes.

“Take a warm shower, yeah? We’ll get you some food after, and then how about a nap?”

Unable to do anything but nod in response, your fear of upsetting the blonde, of anyone really, making itself known, you followed her instructions, locking the door as she left and starting to remove your sweat covered kit. 

~~~

It’s nearly twenty minutes later when you emerge from the shower, your dirty clothes held precariously in your hands, your eyes wide as you see Leah sprawled across her bed, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. 

A small smile unknowingly escapes you as you watch her nearly throw her phone, very much caught off-guard at your appearance.

Smile tightening quickly as you realized it rested on your face, your eyes met the ground, ears sharp as you noted the footsteps headed towards you.

Before you knew it, the mess of dirty clothes was swiftly taken from your hands, your gaze snapping up as you watched Leah take your dirty kit and toss it into her own hamper before turning to you. 

“Alright. I’d rather you eat, but I’m not going to force you to, yeah? We can take a nap, maybe just reset, or if you wanna sit down and watch a movie or a show we can do that too…how’s that sound?”

Feeling your eyes water at the blonde’s gentle tone, feelings still overwhelming from earlier, your sights met the ground again as you meekly nodded. 

Blood rushing in your ears, you felt the vibrations as Leah stepped towards you again, her hands gently taking yours. 

“Nap?”

Taking her chances at guessing which you preferred, the tender tone in her voice had you easily nodding again, tears you’d been trying to hold back now escaping. 

And as the blonde led you to her bed, you winced as the voices in your head picked up once again, mind baffled at why someone was treating you with this much kindness, this much care.

Choosing to ignore them for now, you smiled shyly at the sight in front of you, Leah having rounded the bed to go on ‘her’ side, the skipper tucked into the sheets, arms wide open as she shot you a soft grin, eyes sparkling with glee as she waited for you to join her. 

Gingerly approaching the bed, you hesitantly pulled back the covers, eyes meeting Leah’s every few seconds to make sure you were okay, before entering, unsure of whether you were allowed to hug the blonde (even if a part of you so desperately wanted to do so). 

Your question was answered for you, however, Leah was unable to see you lying down in such a stiff manner, taking matters into her own hands and hooking an arms around your waist and pulling you into her.

And as you slowly got comfortable, moving millimetres every minute until you finally found yourself resting with your head on her chest, arm wrapped around her midsection as her hand came to wrap around your waist, one running through your hair, you let yourself sink into her hold, brain quietening every so slightly as the familiar presence and scent had you relaxing.

It was only when you were on the verge of sleep, minutes later, did you hear Leah’s voice whisper into the air between you two, her lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as an apology as she realized her mistake of rousing you from your sleepy state.

“There’s a lot that goes on up there,” with a small nod towards the top of your head, she continued, “but it doesn’t have to stay there y’know?”

Holding her breath as she felt you shift slightly, you turning your body to listen better, she spoke again.

“I’d be more than happy to stay here and listen to you when you need it. Really, any of us would. All of the girls love you and care for you, and despite whatever people might say, you add to the team, yeah?”

Feeling you nod hesitantly at the words, Leah waited as she sensed your jaw move, anticipation killing her as you sounded out the words silently before they left your mouth- and even then, you winced slightly.

“I don’t want to be a burden…don’t wanna waste your time…”

There was something in the way the words quietly rolled off your tongue, no doubt said many times before, the sincerity behind them proving you meant them wholeheartedly- that you believed you were an inconvenience, that broke Leah’s heart.

You weren’t a burden. You weren’t.

She wondered if you’d ever seen yourself the way other’s saw you. If that coloured glass that you saw yourself through was tainted any other colour than black. Whether it was ever yellow so you’d see just how much of a ray of sunshine you were on the stormiest of days, often cheering up your shared teammates with just a single smile as you’d skip into the change rooms.

Or if you ever looked at yourself through the rose coloured glass, the same hue that would coat your cheeks as you’d interact with fans post-game, giving each and every one your undivided attention, making them feel special, and loved, and cared for.

Or whether you ever saw yourself through green, breathing life to even the dullest moments, standing tall, unwavering, as players would try to take you down on the pitch over and over again, you getting back up each time, a force to be reckoned with, one that not even the rainiest of days nor Mother nature could defy.

You weren’t a burden, and the blonde needed you to believe it, because it was the truth and nothing but the wholehearted, honest-to-god truth.

It’s why her honest admission just tumbles out, the words spilling before the defender could stop them.

“If I could hold you all night and all day, I would, without a single doubt or any hesitation.”

Her grip tightening on you as the words are spoken clearly and strongly, her placing a gentle kiss to your temple before continuing.

“If you think you’re gonna waste my time by talking to me when you aren’t doing well, then just know, that listening to you as I try and comfort you and get the chance to hold you in my arms? It’s the best waste of time I’ll ever have in my life. It’s one I’ll cherish till the end of time, because it’s never, and I mean never, a waste.”

Taking a deep breath in, the blonde felt you nod at her words, your own grip tightening around the blonde as you pulled yourself closer into her, closing your eyes in an attempt to believe her the best you could.

Leah could sense your struggle though, not ignorant to the way a small, trembling breath escaped you, frustration clear.

“You don’t have to believe me now, or any time soon really, but just know, it’s the wholehearted truth- and I’ll spend as long as you need reminding you, because you’re good enough. You’re more than good enough, and worthy of love, and a good life, and good things. You deserve love, even though your brain tries to tell you otherwise, yeah?”

When you didn’t say anything, it clear to the blonde that you were silently taking in her words, contemplating them, doing your best to believe them, she let you be, revelling in the silence as took in the feel of you being in her arms, one of her favourite feelings in the world.

The blonde could almost feel you turning her words over in your head, examining them from top to bottom as you inspected them for any indication of a lie, surprised when there wasn’t one.

Content with the way you hadn’t spoken out yet in disagreement, Leah decided to take her chances and bite the bullet.

Proposing her next idea, the blonde held her breath in anticipation, heartbeat slowing dramatically as she hoped you’d agree to her words.

“I’ll always be here to hold you, but I think it might just help if we see a professional, yeah? You and me, both of us, we’ll go, and just give it a crack?”

Feeling your hesitancy this time, the blonde pulled you closer to her gently, turning onto her side as her eyes met yours. 

One hand now carefully resting on your cheek, she placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose before continuing. 

“Three sessions is all I ask. If you don’t want to go after that, then I won’t ask again, ever. But, just give me three sessions, and I’ll be there for each one if you want, and if nothing changes, then you’re off the hook, deal?”

There was an audible sigh of relief that escaped Leah’s lips as you hesitantly nodded in agreement.

Deciding that that was good enough for the time being, Leah smiled softly to herself, more than happy with any baby steps of progress being made.

“Just want you to love yourself the way the rest of us love you. The way I love you…”

The words were punctuated with another gentle kiss on your head, this time her lips lingering as you both basked in the touch, the blonde well aware that physical touch was your love language. 

Nodding to yourself as your girlfriend’s arms wrapped around you at the end of her sentence, heart feeling just a tad bit lighter as her embrace sucked you in, you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet in your mind and warmth in your chest.

Snuggling further into Leah’s hold, you let out a shaky breath as the emotions of the day filtered out of you, you weren’t going to lie, you were terrified for the future- absolutely scared shitless for what it held. But, with Leah by your side, on your team, cheering you on, a spark of hope nestled quietly inside you, filling you with a refreshing breath, a new goal to work towards.

Not now, not soon, but slowly and surely, you’d work your way through this. You wanted to. for your sake and hers.

After all, with your girlfriend to remind you that you were human, someone that could live and not just survive, maybe you could finally teach yourself it too.

[euosin]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 part 2

part 1

eric draven (2024) x fem!reader

"You pierce my soul. I am half agony. Half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are going for ever." - Jane Austen.

summary: after moving away from your hometown into the city, you hope to settle and live a peaceful life—until a familiar face comes into your cafe.

content: au eric, mutual pining but they're both lowkey annoying and oblivious, family issues, drug abuse, mentions of self harm, shelly doesn't exist in this au, use of y/n, alcoholism, opposites attract plus more cliches, very subtle hints to physical abuse if you squint

a/n: i stopped using italics to indicate flashback scenes so i hope u guys can still tell when its a flashback !! also eeekk im so glad u guys my previous chapter <3

wc: 5.7k

“Do you love him?” 

Four words. One answer. Although at the time, you weren't sure. It felt weird to have your parents ask you such a question at seventeen in the middle of dinner “What?” You mumble, cheeks stuffed with potatoes. “Do you love him?” Your father repeats. You look between your parents, taking a sip of your water. “No… that’s an odd question,” you force a hollow laugh while you scrape around the remaining pieces of dinner on your plate. “It’s not. You seem to always be out with him now, you're barely at home in time to even sit down and eat with us,” Dad says, his voice laced with irritation. Rolling your eyes, you set down your glass a little too loudly, crossing your arms while leaning back in your seat. “Yeah, well, it's not like I wanna be home anyway.” You curse under your breath as the quiet sound of clinking silverware comes to a stop. “Y/N.” Your mother scolds with furrowed brows. Sometimes, you'd wish that your parents loved each other long enough to fuck and just make another child to bitch at instead of you; this was one of those moments.

What was the point of living in such a big house if it was only the three of you here? You turn your head over to your father, poking your steak around with your fork. “Sorry,” you murmur. “Excuse me?” He interrupts. “I’m sorry.” You repeat. “I can’t hear you.” Dropping your fork with a loud clatter, you sit up, feeling your face heat up with aggravation. “I said I’m fucking sorry!” Your mother stares at you blankly. Her face showed no emotion–but you could tell that look in her eye meant you were going to get a rough punishment. Your dad lets out a breathy laugh as if he were amused by your antics. He dabs at the corners of his mouth with the cloth napkin before calmly saying, “Fix your attitude and go to bed.” 

You sit still, twitching slightly. In an instant, you shoot up from your seat, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor loud enough to make you shiver. You stormed up the stairs to your room, slamming the door shut with a vicious echo that rang throughout the house. Luckily, it was a Friday. If you had to get up and go to school tomorrow, you probably would’ve broken down crying in first period. You throw yourself onto your bed, lying there as you stare up at the ceiling in silence while you pick at your wrinkled duvet. For the next fifteen minutes, you listened in to your parents' inaudible conversation downstairs before they finally came upstairs for the night. Turning over, you reach into your pocket and scroll through your call list before landing on Eric’s name. The line rings for a few seconds before he answers. “Hey.” His voice was a gentle whisper. “Hey, Eric. I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” He abruptly cuts in, “No, no, it’s fine. What’s up?”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Uh, my dad is asleep.”

“Ah, sorry.”

Eric chuckles softly on the other end, “It’s fine. Do you need me? You usually don’t call me this late unless you want something.” He teases. You can hear him smiling through the phone, his voice alone makes your heart skip a beat. “Ugh. No, I don't.” You reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to ask if you could come over?” The question tumbles out timidly. Eric hums, “Uh, huh. So you do need something.” You groan, rolling your eyes with a sigh. “Yes, Eric. I’m afraid I need you here.” The banter was normal for you two, but it felt different this time, it felt flirtatious. You could barely stand it. He laughs, the rustling of his bedsheets prevalent in the background. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.” He assures you. You smile, rolling onto your side in bed. “Could you park down the road? Oh, and come up the balcony stairs in my backyard, please.” He sighs sarcastically, agreeing before he hangs up. You sit up, checking yourself out in the vanity mirror, messing with your hair as seconds turned into minutes. Eventually, you get a chime from your phone, a message from Eric saying that he was outside. Slowly, you creak open your door, poking your head out of the crack and peer down the dark corridor to your parent's room. After a long pause, you quietly tiptoe through the hallway to the door of the balcony, carefully unlocking the glass door. You lean over the railing, spotting Eric climbing over the garden fence. As he jumps down from the tall fence, he stumbles on the landing, almost falling into your pool. “Eric!” You yelp, your hand instinctively slapping over your mouth as your voice echoes throughout the neighborhood. He catches himself about three inches away from the pool, looking up slowly with a sheepish grin. He’s still in his sleepwear, dark grey sweatpants, and a black hoodie zipped up halfway, a black tank top underneath, paired with his usual beaten up vans. Eric steadies himself on his feet, jogging over to you and up the stairs. “Hey.” He says, hair slightly messy. “Hello.” You reply. Something was different about his appearance, you examine him further as he slowly leans away from you. With an awkward laugh, he asks, “What’s wrong?” 

“Did you get a haircut?” You reach up to his jaw, gently turning his head. His hair was shorter now, short enough to expose his beautiful bone structure and his sharp eyes. He softly grabs your wrist, letting your hand drop to your side as he shrugs. “I wanted a change,” You nod, crossing your arms. “Hm, it looks good.” Turning around to let him in, you carefully close the door behind you, the cold glow of the moonlight dimly illuminating the space. With a wave, you signal for him to follow you, softening your footsteps while you sneak down the hall. As you turn the corner, a loud thud comes behind you, causing you to whip around, “Shit,” Eric curses under his breath, accidentally bumping into a wall. You bring a finger to your lips with wide eyes. Eric drops his head in embarrassment, sheepishly whispering an apology as he rubs at his head before taking your hand to lead the way. When he finally makes it into your bedroom, he takes off his shoes, watching as you get comfortable under your sheets. Eric stands by the foot of your bed, awkwardly looking around. “What are you doing?” You ask with a soft giggle. He stares down at you, his shoulders rigid with tension. “Why are you acting like this is your first time being here? Get over here, I don’t bite.” Eric tilts his head to the side, a sarcastic smile plastered on his face, “You might.” He quips back before hesitantly sitting down next to you. “Um, you mind if I stay here for the night again?” When you look over at him, he’s fidgeting with his fingers, visibly nervous. “Sure, you can stay as long as you like. I need somebody to distract me from my parents’ constant bitching. Just make sure you hide from my parents in the morning.” You say teasingly in an attempt to ease the tension. Eric laughs, staring down at his lap, tracing an invisible pattern on his pants.

His smile fades before he glances over at you, his eyes dreary from lack of sleep. Cocking your head to the side in concern, you ask, “Is something wrong?” He stays silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on his lap. Sensing his discomfort, you gently nudge him with your foot. “You can talk to me, you know that?” Eric has never been a big talker in your friendship; most of your conversations were usually led by you. Not like he cared, he didn’t have an issue with this. He loved listening to your unhinged rants, finding your stories funny and exhilarating. However, when it came to sharing his thoughts, he had difficulty finding the proper words. A small part of Eric thought that his problems would burden you emotionally. Did you even care? This voice lingered in the back of his mind. He knew that you wouldn’t shame or judge him about anything. Ever. But he couldn’t ignore the pestering feeling that you were only nice to him out of pity. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Was this a sign? Was this a sign that he should come back into your life? No, no, it would hurt you too much, he thought. Yet, you already saw him. Was he supposed to pretend like you didn’t exist anymore? The city was huge, but if he saw you once, it meant he was bound to run into you again. He had been dodging the coffee shop, changing his route to his apartment completely just so he wouldn’t have to see your face in the window. The memory of your face clouded his thoughts. It had been three days since the last time he saw you, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about your hair, the way you looked so effortlessly beautiful despite the dark shadows under your eyes, which led him to wonder if you were sleeping okay. He knew how you got when you didn’t get enough sleep. Did you still think about him like how he thought about you? Despite those seven long years apart, you never once left his mind, plaguing his thoughts like a persistent spirit. He constantly thought about the night he left you. It haunted him, and he hated himself for leaving like that. He hated that he had decided to shut you out of his life. Although he truly had no clue you were texting his number. At the time of his rehabilitation, all of his stuff was taken away from him, and when he finally got out after four months, he had found that his father had thrown out all of his belongings. “A fresh start,” his dad would claim. Eric went without a phone for the next three months before scraping up enough money to get a new one with a new number. Of course, he thought about reaching out to you–several times. But he was terrified, petrified even. To him, it felt safer to stay out rather than risk opening up an old wound. 

Besides, would it be okay? Would you be okay? He would often find himself in bed, typing in your number, writing out a short sentence asking for forgiveness and how he missed you, but just as quickly as the idea came to him, he would delete the message before he could even press send. Then, he’d relapse–falling back into addiction, again, and again, surrendering himself to the familiar euphoric feeling of drugs and alcohol. Each time he thought he’d been able to make it out, committing to his sobriety, something would trip him up, triggering him. When he was twenty, he managed to move out of his father's house, securing a decent apartment a few miles away from your hometown of Blythefield. Things had been going smoothly, things were changing, and Eric was proud of himself. At work, he made friends with the guys there, and for the first time, he genuinely felt a sense of happiness and belonging. Everything fell through when they invited him out on his day off. Somehow, he found himself at a house party, doing lines in the back of the room with a couple of guys he didn’t even know. On top of everything, he was drunk. So drunk that he couldn’t form a single thought. He felt like shit. His friends didn’t bother to help him out either, even after being informed about his issues that Eric openly shared. During those seven years when he was away, he was constantly in and out of rehab. And every time he’d get admitted, it felt less like treatment and more like a way to escape the unfortunate, overwhelming feeling of life–a vacation, sort of. Although when you’re on vacation, you usually don’t have brooding men screaming into your ear while being locked up in a four by four grey room. 

It was only recently, at twenty-five, that Eric was sure of it. He wanted a change; he wanted to stick by that for himself, and in a way, for you. 

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“I’m not saying anything,” Chance replies sharply. Eric stares at him with wide eyes, desperation written all over his face, lips pressed into a thin line. “You fucking with me, man?” He asks. Chance uncomfortably sinks himself further into the worn leather of his couch as he ashes out his cigarette. “Chance, please, I’ll–I’ll take anything,” Eric’s voice cracks as he frantically waves his hands. Chance blinks, shaking his head. “Do you seriously think I’ll just tell you everything she said? I don’t rat out my friends.”

“Rat out? It’s not ratting out, I know her, we’re friends!” Chance shakes his head, correcting Eric. “Were, you were friends.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You come over here, banging on my door like a lunatic this early in the morning? She talks about you as if you did her dirty.”

Were you still upset with him? He drowns in his own thoughts, zoning out. Chance notices this, taking the opportunity to get up, grabbing Eric’s jacket from his coat rack, and walking over to him, forcefully shoving the jacket into his chest. “Talk to her yourself, Eric. You said you’re friends. I really don’t wanna be in the middle of this.” Eric looks up, confused as he processes Chance’s words. Before he could respond, Chance quickly pushed him out of his apartment, the door closing with a slam behind him. Eric stands there outside the door for a minute, pondering his next move. I should text her, he thought. It felt like everything in Eric’s brain was overcomplicating every little factor. He didn’t want to mess anything up. Six years was a long time, a vast amount of time to change. He’s changed, have you? He swiftly pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the numbers flashing 10:45 AM. Somehow, with a surge of willpower, he leaves Chance’s apartment, making his way down the street to the cafe. The sight of the flickering open sign was enough to make him shiver. Peering through the window, he sees you. In all your glory, you look fully awake today, radiating as you hand a customer their drink. He felt like a teenager again. The swelling feeling in his chest bloomed as he stared at you. He realizes he probably looks like a total creep right now. Eric exhales, holding his breath as he walks inside. Your gaze flickers toward him, a welcoming smile on your face, expecting a customer. Alas, it’s Eric. You pause when he walks up to the counter, clearing his throat with his arms crossed, looking up at the menu above your head as if he were genuinely considering what to get. The silence is painfully loud against the soft jazz and the surrounding conversation around. “An espresso?” You ask, breaking the silence. He looks back down at you, nodding. On the surface, you held a straight face with a soft smile, but under that facade, you were trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions you were experiencing. “$2.25.” Eric fumbles around in his back pocket for the money, sliding it across the counter. When you reach for it, your fingers briefly brush his, and you swear your heart almost drops to your stomach. While putting his money into the register, Eric breaks the silence, “Can we talk?” 

Nothing. You say nothing at all. You can see in his eyes that he was begging, but you couldn’t speak. He blinks, shoulders dropping as he slowly backs up from the counter. “Eric,” you manage to make out, “text me.” His eyes widen, a small smile on his lips. He nods, “Okay.” He didn’t need to ask for your number again; he already knew it.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Unlocking your apartment door, you toss your bag on your chair and quickly undress into your relaxed clothes with a relieved sigh before lying down on your bed. You shift uncomfortably in the twin bed, thinking about your brief conversation with Eric this morning. You swore you were over it, over everything that had happened in the past, but just seeing his face lured you back in. It would’ve been an asshole move if you refused to speak to him, besides, you desperately wanted to catch up. You couldn’t be mad at him, no matter how hard you tried. Out of curiosity, you opened your phone to Chance’s Instagram following, typing in Eric’s name. There he was, his profile picture was set to a blurry polaroid of a cropped group photo. Hesitantly, you click on his most recent post. It looked like he was at a small gathering, spotting Chance in the background with several other people. He looked so happy, and you noticed the light in his eyes. You missed that. Other than a couple of posts, he didn’t have a lot of photos up, his page was mostly empty. You notice that there was a vast time gap between two of his posts. Eric’s first post was in 2020, he would’ve been around twenty at the time. There were a few photos in the first one, a couple of photographs that looked like they were off an actual camera rather than his phone. He was still into photography. You didn’t know why, but the thought of him going out and taking photos with his camera made you smile, just like how he used to walk around and photograph the simplicities of life when you were teenagers. The next slides were more group photos, but instead of looking cheerful like his recent photos, he looked completely drained. He didn’t have all of his tattoos, just a few of his hand and face tattoos. Eric had that same look that he had the night he left, lost, almost like he wasn’t mentally there. His second post was in late 2024, completely tatted out this time, a cigarette in his mouth with an arm thrown around Chance’s shoulder outside by a nearby club. So he’s been here the whole time. Coincidence. You kind of felt like a creep stalking his page like this, but seeing a few aspects of his life was enough to ease your mind. As you close out his account, you get a message from an unsaved number. Eric, you assume. Perfect timing.

hey

hi

its eric.

you still have my number saved?

no, i just memorized it lol

You lay there, staring up at your phone screen as you wait for his next text, a warm flutter from your heart spreads to your face. This felt strange. It felt familiar. Just then, your phone vibrates as your breath hitches, reading Eric’s message: “can i call you?” You sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows, slowly clicking on the call button while the phone rings. After a few seconds, he picks up. Neither of you says anything for a moment, just expectantly waiting for the other.

“Hey, stranger.” He says.

“Hi, Eric.” You scoff, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you.

“How have you been?” 

“I’ve been better. What about you?”

“I’m great…” Eric trails off, almost as if he were holding something back. You hear him inhaling on the other line, softly clearing his throat. “I’m–uh, I’m clean.” He stammers. You lean your head onto the palm of your hand, a small smile spreading on your face. “That’s amazing, Eric. I’m glad to know you’re doing better.” If only he could see you now, he imagines your pretty face, hair still tied back from work, dark mascara-coated lashes fluttering as you look out your window. “I miss you, Y/N.” He blurts out. Eric runs his hand through his mullet, leg bouncing as he leans back into his sofa. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss your voice. He missed you so much, it was almost unbearable. Staying silent, you chew on your bottom lip anxiously. “I miss you too.” Eric’s grasp on the phone tightens when he hears those words. Sitting up, he bites the inside of his cheek. For the remainder of the evening, you and Eric catch up, sharing a few laughs and giggles as he cracks a few jokes, his humor still the same as you remembered from school. You learn about when he moved from Blythefield, just a year after you had gone off to college. The thought of Eric still being in town, roaming around somewhere at the same time as you while you still lived there made your heart ache. In your head, you wished he would have reached out sooner, but you couldn’t blame him. He was going through so much at the time, it must have been difficult to even be focused on anything. 

“Oh,” Eric says.

You hum out of curiosity.

“We’ve been on the phone for a couple hours,” he says knowingly.

“Oh, yeah. We have.” You sit in silence, waiting for him to say something.

“Uh–yeah, well, I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon?” You repeat, Eric pinches his nose bridge, slightly embarrassed by his words. “Yeah, I hope.” He says sheepishly. You giggle, stretching your arms above your head, “I’m just messing with you. Of course, I’ll see you soon.” Eric sits up, suppressing a smile on his face as he hums in agreement. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Your name rolls off his tongue like velvet, leaving a sweet taste in his mouth. “Goodnight, Eric.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“Do you think Eric will show up tonight?” You ask as you apply your cherry lip gloss in the mirror. Leanna, your friend with the pretty blonde hair and pink highlights, glances up from the magazine, her chin propped up in her palm. “Really?” She replies with a deadpan expression. Turning your head around, you shrug. “What? He’s my friend.” Leanna shares a glance with Nicole and Peyton, who are currently connecting their playlists to the speakers for the party on the floor, half-empty beer cans, and open makeup sprawled over your carpet. With a scoff, Leanna brings her cigarette to her rosy lips. “I’d be surprised if Eric even showed up to school.” Nicole chimes in with a loud laugh. Rolling your eyes, you spin around in the chair, pushing yourself over to Leanna on the bed, taking her cigarette between your fingers. “Eric’s chill, seriously. You guys just don’t wanna get to know him.” You mumble through smoke.

“Or,” Nicole starts, “maybe he just doesn’t wanna get to know us.” Leanna nods in agreement. “Whatever. Just help me clean up after the party, please? My parents will actually fucking kill me if they see this place trashed.” At sixteen, you were impulsive and bored; that’s why you decided it was a good idea to throw a party at your house on a school night, inviting the entire school. After all, you only live once, right? As you ruffle up your hair, a sudden bang on the door makes you jump. “Oh shit,” Peyton mutters. The girls quickly get up, rushing down the stairs to greet whoever was at the door. You follow them after, a bottle of vodka in your hand as they swing open the door, a crowd of people rushing in. Recognizing a few familiar faces, you hug and welcome them in with a wide grin. After a couple of minutes, the house was completely filled with people. You find yourself constantly looking over at the front door, expecting a certain someone to walk in. 

“What are you looking at?” Nicole asks while sipping her beer.

“Uh–” You stutter.

“Probably for her boyfriend,” Peyton cuts in with a singsong tone as she wiggles her eyebrows, twirling her brown around her manicured nails.

The girls laugh, grabbing your arm to pull you closer when you try to walk away. “He’s not my boyfriend, Peyton.” You exclaim defensively. Your friends exchange a certain look between them, a smirk creeping up on all their faces. Leanna giggles, her head tilted slightly as she teases, “Who?” 

“Eric.” You reply, bringing the cold bottle to your lips. Leanna raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes as she asks, “How did you know she was talking about him?” The three girls burst out laughing, playfully nudging your arm. “Speak of the devil,” Nicole mumbles, nodding toward the door. You turn your head as Eric closes the front door behind him, mindlessly looking around like a lost puppy. Clad in a faded black crewneck with loose dark jeans and scuffed vans. His big green eyes scan the area before finally landing on yours, a soft smile forming when he sees you gasp in surprise.

Leanna sighs in annoyance as she glances over at the other girls. Throwing your arms up, you dash over to Eric, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I thought you weren’t going to show up!” You yell over the loud music. “Yeah, maybe I should’ve stayed home.” He replies, gesturing towards the nearly empty vodka bottle in your hands. Blowing a raspberry, you look up at him mischievously before bringing the bottle up to his lips, “C’mon, drink up!” Urging Eric while he shakes his head. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually gives in, taking the bottle and gulping the rest of the liquid down. You laugh, grabbing his arm as you lead him into the kitchen. “Y/N!” Your friends call out from behind you. Eric looks over his shoulder, feeling slightly bad about stealing you away from your friends. 

“What about your friends?”

“Shh, come here.” You interject as you open the cooler, pulling a beer, passing it to him. He stares blankly at you, the corners of his lips twitching. “What?” You ask with a giggle. “You’re totally shit faced right now.” Eric laughs as he cracks open his beer with a loud hiss. You roll your eyes dramatically, scoffing. “I’m not, you’re just too sober.” He tenses, shrugging as he drinks his beer, licking his lips as he watches you open your own. “You haven’t been at school recently.” Eric’s eyes slip away from yours to the ground. He gulps, taking another swig of his drink before clicking his teeth. You raise your brows, expecting him to give you an explanation for his absence. Instead, his green eyes trail back up to yours, exhausted with another shrug. “It’s nothing, really. My dad’s been going batshit, that’s all.” You squint, concern riddled over your face as you step closer to him. “I was serious when I said you could talk to me. About anything.” Despite your drunken state, you make it clear that you understood him. He nods, a tight smile on his lips. You reach for his hand, your pinky brushing against his palm. He looks down, letting his hand open up to interlock fingers, vulnerability washing over his expression. You notice how his eyes flutter, almost as if he were blinking back tears with glossy eyes, the way his lip quivers slightly, just a second away from breaking. “Eric,” you gasp softly as you turn him to face you. You place down your beer, glancing around the full room before quickly dragging him to a nearby bathroom. As soon as you lock the door, Eric instantly sinks to the ground, hiccuping as tears suddenly spill from his eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have come.” You shush him, quickly kneeling next to him against the bathtub as your hand touches his grazes his jaw. “No, it’s okay, let it out, it’s fine.” You reassure him as he drops his head to his knees, arms covering himself as he cries, as if he were shielding himself from you. “I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” He babbles through sobs. Your eyes slightly widen. “Can’t do what?” He picks up his head from his arms, sniffling as he slowly turns to look at you. “Eric?” You repeat gently with furrowed brows, “You can’t do what?” 

Eric shakes his head, wiping away his tears. “I can’t be here, in this world, in–fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

You pull him into your arms, letting him bury himself into your shoulder as he hugs you tightly, his body trembling intensely. Overwhelmed by this whole situation, you sit still, trying to get your thoughts straight from the alcohol. You didn’t know what to do. You had no idea how to comfort him, and the loud bass from the music outside the door was only overstimulating you further. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt washes over you as you ask yourself, how could I have been so oblivious to his issues? “Promise me,” he whimpers as he pulls back enough to meet your worried gaze, “promise me, you’ll never change.” You stare up at him, dazed, nodding slowly. “Okay, I promise.” You reply, a calm facade on your face in an attempt to calm his heavy emotions. Your hand goes up to stroke his head as he lets himself go in your warm embrace. The whole night passed by like a blink of an eye. The loud music and flashing lights had consumed you, yet you had no interest in dancing or drinking anymore. You had spent most of the night next to Eric, your hands intertwined in fear of him breaking again. Later on, you insisted that Eric should go home, get some proper rest, but he only shook his head, claiming that he didn’t want to face his father at this hour. When the party came to an end, he stayed the night, offering help to clean up the trash left behind. He didn’t speak as he picked up the litter, only giving you hums of acknowledgement when you’d ask him to do something. When you awoke in the morning, you realized he had slipped away from you without a text or a note, and when you had reached school later that day with a heavy migraine, he was absent. The day felt completely empty without him. Nicole, Leanna, and Peyton would sit with you at lunch, uncomfortably glancing around while trying to get your attention. All you could think about was what Eric had said last night, how he didn’t want to be here. Then, you’d recall a few moments before where he’d roll up his sleeve, only to instantly pull them back down when you’d point out the scars on his arms and hands, he would brush it off with discomfort over his face as he dismissed your worry, claiming that they were scratches from his cat with a playful smile. With uncertain reassurance, he’d tell you not to worry.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The weather had been shifting rapidly, the cold winter quickly fading away into the soft spring. The warm sun on your skin, the beautiful flowers and trees coming back into bloom. On a whim, you decide to spend your weekend shopping for a more weather-appropriate wardrobe. Unfortunately, you got a little carried away within the shopping districts and ended up emptying your entire wallet in stores. With a satisfied smirk, you look down at the bags around your arms, thinking about all the cute pieces you picked up, but groan when you remember your poor spending habits. Just as you turn the corner to leave the twelfth store of the day, you hear your name being called out from behind you among the bustling crowd.

“Y/N!” Chance waves from afar, a wide grin on his face, as he walks over to you with a cheerful energy. You smile back, greeting him with a quick side hug. Glancing up over his shoulder, you nearly jump when your gaze lands on Eric awkwardly standing behind him, hands in his sweater pockets as he looks at shoppers passing by anxiously. “Eric,” you mumble in surprise. When he finally meets your eyes, he nods with a gentle smile as he waves from his pocket. “Hey.” You pull away from Chance, eyes darting between the two guys as you struggle to hold up the multiple bags hanging from your arms. “What are…you guys up to?” You ask. Chance looks over at Eric, swinging his arm around his shoulder, pulling him down to meet his height. “Just–hanging out with my best friend.” Chance replies, although his words were strung out, almost like he was hesitating to find the right words in your circumstance. You assume he’s aware of your connection with Eric. You slowly nod, eyes narrowing with suspicion as you let out a quiet laugh before quickly catching a bag slipping from your arms. Right as you were about to shuffle it back onto your shoulder, Eric shifts away from Chance’s grasp, tending to you with a careful urgency. “Here,” he mutters while easing a few bags off your arms, looking down at you with sincere eyes. You hold eye contact for a few seconds before letting him slowly take your shopping bags, thanking him under your breath as you instinctively smooth out your top, feeling slightly flustered by his hands grazing your skin. Chance nervously laughs, staring at Eric as the two of you awkwardly stand in silence, a thick tension forming in the air. “So,” Chance cuts in, “Eric and I are going on a little road trip with our friends next week.” As he continues, Eric slowly turns his head around with wide eyes, a silent plea for Chance to stop talking. Regardless of his intense stare, Chance continues with a grin, “You should come. It’ll be cool, invite the girls too!” You notice how Eric closes his eyes, rolling his head back slightly while his brows draw closer. You clear your throat, pursing your lips. “Uh, yeah. I’m not sure if that’s a good idea–”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N. Why not? You rarely leave your apartment on the weekends anyway.” Chance tilts his head to the side while raising his brows, a persuasive expression on his face as he nods toward the much tenser man in front of you. You glance back over at Eric, currently uneasily shifting on his feet. With an exasperated sigh, you reluctantly shrug your shoulders.

“Fuck it, sure. Why not?”

taglist: @a-differentbrandof-beans @spideysimpossiblegirl @bloodykisserr @mskiabbs

⋆˙⟡♡

[magicalprofessorsludgedeputy]

Super-style part six

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part seven

A maelstron of sparks crackled around him as he paced the sidewalk, sporadically checking his phone as the bolts grew more violent with every passing minute.

Where were they? The show was about to start and there wasn't a single sign of them.

If they decided to skip bulkhead atleast would have texted him, but he hadn't gotten a word from anyone in hours. There was no chatter on the hero line or word of activity in the vigilante group chats, no explanation for the radio silence at all.

It didn't make sense they wouldn't just forget about him.

Unless... What if they'd been captured?

It wouldn't be the first time someone tried it. Ratchet had designed sensors to go off if any of them went uncouncious for that very reason but they were far from full proof. They were easy enough to disable with the right knowledge or power.

"if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a cat instead of a bee mein kleiner kafer."

Blitzing- no ed, or bumper when random was in control, called playfully.Ben turned to stare at the group sparks settling slightly.

They were dressed nice, in an old fashioned mobster esc way. Dress shirts and pants with various ties and vests all silk or satin in their signature colors. Strangely enough they all sported some style of stripes here and there. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing here.

The only question was why.

"What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly.

"I didn't invite you and I told you about it in passing."

"Maybe, but you said it was important so I figured the group could use some culture." Corey answered smoothly, a casual smile on his handsome face.

"Tickets are 150 dollars a piece."Ben informed.

"Pocket change in our line of work my dear."

Corey dismissed.

"I mentioned this to you like twice."Ben argued

"And you said it was important so I put it on the calendar."

Corey rebutted.

"You don't even like fashion."

Ben pressed insistently to no avail.

"But we like you, So here we are. Now, tell me, where's your team?"

Ben didn't know what to say, only able to stare at the group in complete bafflement until he finally managed to choke out a "follow me." And numbly lead them inside.

He could find why they really came later on, for now he had a show to attend.

"Here's to one hell of a show and a year of labor brought to fruition." Starscream crowed as they toasted and drank.

"And the absence of annoying heroes." Lugnut added.

"Hey I'm right here." Bumblebee protested playfully.

"I said annoying heroes. Your not annoying." The cyclops explained as is if it were simple fact making bee blush a bit.

"Technically speaking your a vigilante not a hero." Starscream commented, earning a half hearted glare.

"Just cause I'm not registered doesn't mean I'm not a hero, I do the same work as the rest of em don't i." He argued only partially serious. Star had a habit of both complimenting and insulting him at once and Ben had long learned to roll with it.

"Of course not, it just means your more like us then them and significantly better company as a result." Star teased.

"Now now let's not let semantics distract us from what tonight's about. This is about bens civilian life after all." Megatron cut in, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder that filled his chest with disgusting flutters.

"Actually, for once I agree with starscream." Ed spoke up cooly.

"Wait what?"

"Like he said, your like us. It doesn't a genius to figure out the connecting thread between us. So that prompts a question, what if instead of simply like us you were one of us."

For a few agonizingly long seconds the question hung in the air until Corey's voice cut through the tension.

"Well I think it's safe to say he'd do better then starscream atleast." He joked pulling a startled cackle from Ben.

"Hey!" The T.I.C shrieked as the rest of the group laughed.

"Agreed." Shockwave chuckled.

"All we need is a proper uniform and he can replace him." The cyclops mused.

"Ooh sounds like fun, what kind of uniform do you think would work for him? Honestly I think he could use a cape, ooh it can be shaped like bee wings!" Bumper agreed eagerly.

"Ooh I like that I could lean into the bug thing a bit more with clawed gloves and boots and ooh they could be steal tipped like shockwaves so I could channel electricity through them." Ben chipped in excitedly the mention of a potential villain costume swiftly kicking his brain into action.

"Ooh and maybe like antenna that work like shockwaves antlers or maybe help you tune into electric signals?" Bumper added.

"That would be incredibly useful given your habit of drawing energy from electronics around you." Shockwave hummed.

"Ooh and maybe i can have like a crown esc thing like starscream used to have to give it a queen bee sorta vibe you know?"

At the word crown starscream eagerly but in.

"Well I know quite a bit about royal styles so if your going with a queenly look a recommend lots of gold accents to really sell the look."

"Oh yeah especially since it's a great conductor of electricity it could help." Bee agreed.

"Ooh ooh and how about like a fur trim but with that metal thread stuff?"

"Yes that's brilliant!"

A warm buzzy feeling filled Ben's chest as he talked. It made him feel oddly light, almost like a weight he didn't know he was carrying had dissapeared. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... unwound.

It was nice, strange, but nice.

[ask-outside-stars]

I have so many questions!

1. William, what are your favorite movies and/or TV shows to watch with Ford?

2. Have you considered checking out Epic: The Musical?

3. What is your favorite thing to do in bed with Ford? (Ford can answer this too of he wants)

4. When was the moment you realized you had caught feeling for Ford? (Again, Ford can answer too if he wants)

5. What is your favorite food?

6. What is your favorite book?

7. What are some things you look forward to doing once your able to move around again?

8. What do you think about when you look at the moon and stars?

9. Have you ever considered becoming a therapist, or was Bill Cipher more than enough?

10. Do you think you’ll return to Dipper & Mabel’s house for Thanksgiving, or will you skip this year and opt for a Friends-giving with Soos’ family and Stanley (or some other friends that I’m forgetting)?

Ford sets down the paper filled with questions in front of Will, who rubs his hands excitedly like he's about to dig into a rich chocolate cake.

Will: "Oh boy! These are all great questions! Let's see here..."

Will: "Fordsy and I really like watching documentaries and sci-fi movies together. When we watch sci-fi, I always ask him to point out the inaccuracies and we both take turns telling stories about our times through the multiverse."

Ford chuckles.

Ford: "Half the time we don't even remember what the movie was about."

Will: "Question two... oh! I've heard of it! Mabel introduced me to a few of the songs, and I've been guilty of belting out quite a few of them in the shower. Or while cleaning. Or when I think I'm alone. Or when I'm working."

Ford: "He's saying he likes it."

Ford: "Let's see, question three..."

Will: "Other than the obvious, does sleeping count?"

Ford hides a laugh in his hand as Will grins cheekily at him. Will's face then falls a little at question four and he takes on a thoughtful appearance.

Will: "Hm. First life or second? In my first life, when I was Bill, I realized I loved him after he tried to shut the portal down. I didn't know that's what I felt for him at the time and I handled it... poorly. In my second and current life, I realized that what I felt for Ford went beyond just simple attraction after a few dates. He just felt so familiar to me."

Ford takes his hand.

Ford: "For me, I fell for you at first sight when you were Bill. And, well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the same case again with you as Will. Although, I suppose 'love' is a generous word, but I certainly felt intrigued by you immediately. Love came naturally afterwards."

Will: "You sap~"

Will pulls Ford into a kiss, who laughs against Will's mouth and reminds him that he still has some questions to answer.

Will: "Favorite food, huh? Easy! Spaghetti! Or any kind of Mexican food. Abuelita's been teaching me some of her recipes, and Soos has been a great taste-tester."

Will: "And my favorite book? The one I wrote, duh! Where is it anyway?"

Ford: "I... well, I can't quite recall. I think first I tried throwing it into the bottomless pit, then setting it on fire..."

Will gasps dramatically and looks offended.

Will: "You bastard! I worked hard on that!"

Ford: "O- oh look! Another question for you!"

Will glares at Ford then answers the next one.

Will: "My mobility gets stronger every day. I'm especially looking forward to our wedding dance."

Ford: "Just please don't push yourself too hard. You know how I worry."

Will: "To address number eight, I feel a sort of melancholy, if I'm being honest. I used to be able to hold the stars in my hand, and explore the vast reaches of the endless sky. I once saw beyond the furthest star and flew to the greatest heights... but not anymore. I miss it sometimes."

Ford takes his hand in a comforting gesture and reads question nine for Will.

Will: "You know, that's actually a great idea! I'd have to go back to school for that though, wouldn't I? To become a licensed therapist and all."

Ford shrugs.

Ford: "I'm sure Stanley could whip up a fake license. But if you do want to go through official channels, you'd have my support."

Will sighs dreamily and Ford decides to answer the next question for him.

Ford: "Will isn't strong enough to make the journey all the way to California, so we'll be hosting Thanksgiving here in Gravity Falls. Sherman's already agreed to attend, so I'm sure he'll be able to drag Lexi and Herschel out here as well. It would be nice for them to meet our Gravity Falls family, after all."

[helianskies]

they've been on my mind recently, soooo...

Honey

Tolys twirls a pen around his fingers with absent-minded skill, leaning back in his chair and staring blankly at the screen in front of him.

It’s the last day of work before the holidays begin, and he hasn’t quite woken up enough to be here. He didn’t sleep that well and ended up leaving home in a hurry, so skipped the morning coffee (but not the traffic, Christ alive!), and his mind is still trying to catch up with him.

Granted, he’s only been on the clock for three minutes. He thinks that’s forgivable. Actually, management should consider themselves lucky he’s in, unlike about a third of the rest of his team, supposedly ill! From that alone, Tolys knows he's in for extra fun today.

A hefty sigh slips through parted lips. The pen stops spinning and is set down. Tolys sits up a little and seizes his mouse.

Time to get a grip, and get to work.

Or at least it is, until the door to his small team's office swings open and a familiar face—the only other face that'll appear today, in fact, while two other colleagues work from home—swans on in. 

Tolys bites back another sigh and returns to his monitor.

“Morgen!” greets the ever-beaming, ever-loud, ever-chatty Gilbert.

“You're late,” a far less enthusiastic Tolys points out.

“By four minutes,” Gilbert replies indifferently, “and technically, I'm not late at all. In fact, I'm early today; I arrived over half an hour ago and spent some time clearing emails before the day began,” he rattles on, a persistent creature, “but then I decided I would go out and get some coffee, knowing that we're a little understaffed. Speaking of which—”

Footsteps pad towards him and a takeaway cup is placed down on his desk. He stares at it, puzzled, and then looks back at Gilbert with a question in his eyes.

“Thought you might want some caffeine,” the other offers up by way of an explanation.

“Thanks…?”

In an instant, Gilbert's face drops, as does the confident act reserved for those who know him less.

“Don't sound too excited, eh? You might make someone jealous.”

Tolys tuts. Oh good, he's back. “Just didn't expect it,” he responds. “You're not usually the type for heart-warming gestures.”

“Is that a back-handed compliment I hear?”

“Why? Gone deaf all of a sudden?”

A soft snort of laughter escapes Gilbert, who is used to the banter that only they share. It's their kind of working relationship if… that's what you want to call it.

Gilbert and Tolys joined the company at the same time. They've learned the ropes and climb the rungs virtually hand-in-hand, and over the past two years, have gained a friendship that Tolys, at least, can't compare to any other he has. Gilbert rolls with the punches, he gets Tolys’ humour, he's not bad company when he wants to be.

Sure, he can be a pain in the neck. But he's a million miles better than Christoph, that's for sure!

His coffee, he discovers when he pops off the lid, appears just the way he likes it: dark as the night, no milk, no sugar. 

Well, no sugar, until Gilbert’s hand reappears on his desk and leaves behind a small tub of—

“Honey. Nice.”

Tolys is impressed. Maybe even a little surprised.

“Just for you, old man,” Gilbert says, flashing him a smile before he wombles around to his desk and sets down his own drink. “Begged and pleaded for that.”

“On your knees, I hope.”

“You wish.”

All the while he takes the pot in hand and begins to carefully peel away the film on top. Little does Gilbert know (or perhaps he does—perhaps he sensed it) how much he needs this drink. The honey is the icing on the cake!

As he pours the sweet gloop into his cup, Tolys masks a smile that might boost the other’s ego too much too early in the day, and peers over his computer at him.

“You pay attention to some funny details, you know.”

“Glad you called them ‘funny’ and spared me the trouble,” the other returned, trite. “Honey in coffee is as bizarre as it gets. But I suppose you are going senile, so…”

Old man jokes aside, the coffee is good. Like, it is actual, decent coffee. It makes up for his rushed morning, and makes Tolys feel like this final day before the holidays might be okay. It might just be an okay day.

Yet, just as he prepares himself to settle down and get back on track with work, feeling revitalised and more enthused, something else appears on his desk. A hat trick! But, this time, it’s not coffee nor a small tub of honey. Rather, what is pushed from Gilbert’s desk under monitors and past cables over to Tolys’ desk is a… present. A present wrapped up in festive holly-adorned paper.

Tolys stares as Gilbert’s hand slowly, not-very-slyly retreats. Then he stares at the alien object on his desk.

“What’s this for?” he asks after a long pause. 

“Easter,” Gilbert replies from behind his computer. 

“No, seriously,” Tolys says slowly. This is not something he wants to joke about, so he leans around his own monitor to seek the other out. “Why have you put this on my desk?”

Gilbert’s face emerges. It bears a quizzical look. “Because it’s for you,” he responds as though it’s a stupid question. “Merry Christmas…?”

A pit opens up in Tolys’ stomach.

“But… But I didn’t get you anything…”

“Do you need to?” Gilbert queries, just as curiously. 

“It’s rude not to.”

“‘Tis the season of giving, not receiving. Don’t worry about it—really.”

Normally, quick wit would have him respond with a snappy ‘didn’t take you for a giver in the first place’, but Tolys can’t bring himself to speak. He stares at the holly-wrapped item and wonders, first and foremost, what has possessed Gilbert to buy him a present (on top of the coffee!)?

No, no, no. This won’t do. He can’t just not buy Gilbert something. He would have to get Gilbert a gift, too—but it’s also the last day of work, and he isn’t sure when he’s next going to see him, so now he’s really in a pickle! Dammit, Gilbert! Christoph suddenly seems like a saint!

“You gonna get that, or…?”

A huff escapes him, and Tolys realises that the phone on his desk is ringing. Blood pumping and mind racing, he curses under his breath and picks it up.

Little attention is really paid to what the person on the other end of the line begins to say. All he can think about is what may be hiding beneath the wrapping paper, and whether or not he ought to try and get something during his lunch break for Gilbert in return. Some beer, some chocolate… Maybe a book…? 

Regardless of the pressure he’s feeling, Tolys has to remind himself of an obvious, simple thing: Gilbert got him a gift.That feels big. That feels like something important. That feels like a change in their relationship—and a change he wants to get to the bottom of. Just as soon as this call is over!

[ winter prompts here! ] [ ficlet collection on ao3! ]

[rosecoloredmac]

the house don't fall (when the bones are good)

Rating: E (18+) Summary: Agatha and Rio have been married for a decade and have built a life together with their son Nicky. With Rio set to go on tour with her band and Agatha staying behind with Nicky, how will the couple cope with the distance between them? The magic of modern technology of course. Even though the road may get bumpy, theirs is a love that's built to last. A/N: Hello, I'm so excited to share this fic with you all! I got the idea for this a few weeks ago and decided to see where it went and now here we are. I hope you all enjoy :D Smut warning for this chapter. If that's not your thing, skip to the first line break. Title and chapter titles are for the song The Bones by Maren Morris.

Also on AO3

X

Part I: we built this right

Agatha groaned as she was unwillingly dragged into consciousness by a persistent tickling at the back of her neck. She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the annoyance she quickly realized was her wife, but Rio wasn’t deterred. 

Rio had the audacity to giggle. “Good morning, my love,” she said softly and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. 

“Let me sleep,” Agatha grumbled and buried her face further into her pillow. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew it was too early to for either one of them to be awake yet after the night they’d had. 

“I wish I could,” Rio said, pressing a kiss to the back of Agatha’s neck. “But I’d like to spend the few hours I have left before I have to get on a plane for the next three months, with my wife fully conscious.” 

Agatha swallowed around the lump in her throat that formed at Rio’s words. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, momentarily cringing against the bright light streaming in through their bedroom windows. She turned her head and met Rio’s eyes. Though she wore a small smile, Agatha wasn’t fooled. She could see her own mounting dread reflected in her wife’s dark eyes. 

Rio was going on tour with her band for the first time in years, the first time since their son was born over four years ago. Rio had been apprehensive about leaving them behind, even going as far as suggesting calling the whole thing off a few times. Agatha had talked her down everytime. Her band had just released an album, one that Agatha herself had helped write a few songs for and she and Alice and Jen had been chomping at the bit to get back on stage together after their hiatus. 

“You should have thought of that before you kept me up all night,” she said with a huff, choosing not to acknowledge the dark clouds looming over them for the time being. 

She felt Rio lean over her and her lips brushed against the shell of her ear as she said, “I didn’t hear any complaints.” 

Agatha shivered and hummed when Rio kissed the spot behind her ear that never failed to turn her the putty in her hands. 

“Careful,” Agatha warned, already feeling arousal simmering low in her stomach. 

She felt Rio’s smile against her skin before she kissed her way down her jaw. Her tongue darted out when she reached the point of Agatha’s chin, swiping once at her bottom lip. 

“Why?” Rio questioned. 

Agatha opened her eyes in time to see the smirk on Rio’s lips. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

Rio cocked an eyebrow. 

“Who says I won’t?” she challenged. 

“You and I both know it’s only a matter of time before your son is going to come running in here,” Agatha half heartedly attempted to reason with her. 

Rio chuckled and dropped another line of kisses over Agatha’s shoulder. “I can be quick,” she murmured against her skin. “As long as you can be quiet.” 

Agatha chuckled and rolled her eyes fondly. “You my dear, are insatiable.” 

“Can you blame me?” Rio asked softly, giving Agatha’s shoulder a gentle shove. 

Agatha went willingly, letting Rio coax her onto her back. Rio was quick to duck her head and capture her lips in a tender kiss. Agatha brought her hand up to run her fingers through Rio’s hair. She parted her lips to her wife’s probing tongue, moaning into her mouth as she dragged it along the roof of her mouth. Rio’s hand found her hip, her hold loose as she stroked her thumb softly over the bone. 

Rio was the one to break the kiss and when she leaned away slightly, Agatha chased her lips. She tried to roll onto her side, but the hand on her hip held her firmly in place. With a huff, Agatha fell back against her pillow and looked up at her wife. She was momentarily struck by how radiant she looked, her messy hair haloed by the bright morning sunlight. Her appreciation came to a screeching halt as the realization that it would be months before they would have another morning like this began to truly sink in. 

Rio didn’t resist when she used the hold she still had on her hair to drag her back down. The press of their lips was more insistent now, but not nearly as intense, bordering on frantic, as a few hours ago. Rio’s hand drifted from her hip run her fingers along the top of Agatha’s thigh in a feather light dance. Her fingers skimmed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and heat pooled in her belly as those fingers ghosted around the raised edge of what was surely an impressive bruise she’d left last night. One of the many scattering the expanse of her thighs and torso. She moaned into Rio’s mouth as her hand climbed higher and tilted her hips to try and entice Rio to slide her hand where she needed her. But it seemed that Rio had her own plans. 

Rio broke the kiss and nipped at Agatha’s bottom lip before dipping her head lower. She trailed open mouthed kisses down her throat and shifted down the bed as she went. She continued down Agatha’s chest, nipping and licking at the valley between her breasts. 

“What happened to quick?” Agatha tried, but her breath caught in her throat as Rio’s lips closed around her nipple. 

Rio’s teeth sank into the underside of her breast in response pulled a sharp gasp from Agatha’s lips. She lifted her head to glare down at her wife, but was only met with Rio’s toothy grin as she swiped her tongue along her straining nipple. Agatha’s head fell back against her pillow with a low moan. Rio moved to her other breast to give it the same attention before continuing her descent down Agatha’s body. She took her time brushing her lips each and every mark she’d left on her body, leaving behind a few new ones as she went. 

Agatha squirmed under Rio’s attentive mouth and by the time she pushed her thighs apart and settled between them, Agatha’s breath was coming in short pants. Rio kept up her teasing with the softest kisses placed on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She made the slow trek up the inside of her thigh, but veered off when she reached the apex and switched to the other side. 

Agatha let out a frustrated groan and threw her head back against her pillow. She felt Rio’s lips curl up into a smile before she nipped at her skin again. 

“Rio,” she panted, looking down again to meet her eyes again. “Please.”

“Please what, my love?” Rio whispered, her eyes sparkling as they met Agatha’s. 

Agatha pressed her lips into a thin line and glared. Oh how she hated to beg, but at the moment she was feeling desperate for Rio to touch her, to put her mouth on her. 

Rio raised her eyebrows in question, inching closer and closer to where she knew Agatha wanted, needed her most. She lifted her head from her thigh and blew a slow breath over Agatha’s aching core. 

Agatha’s hips canted toward Rio’s mouth and she broke. 

“Please,” she breathed out. “Fuck me.” 

Rio grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Agatha wasn’t prepared for the shock of pleasure that shot up her spine at the first swipe of Rio’s tongue. She let out a throaty moan, her hands flying to Rio’s hair with a firm grip as she began to lap at her with long strokes of her tongue. She circled her clit once then twice before her lips suctioned around the bundle of nerves and sucked. Agatha’s mouth fell open with a sharp gasp as her hips shot off the bed. Rio pressed her back down with the hand still resting on her hip and used the other one to nudge her leg out further and hold it there. Her blunt nails dug deliciously into the top of her thigh, adding to the pleasure setting fire to every nerve ending in her body. 

Embarrassingly fast, Agatha knew she was getting close. Rio sensed it and released her clit to slide her tongue between her folds. Agatha’s breath hitched when she felt Rio’s tongue push inside her before slowly thrusting in and out. Agatha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to try and stifle the sounds threatening to bubble out of her throat. She bit down so hard that the taste of copper erupted in her mouth, but she didn’t spare it a second thought as Rio’s mouth returned to her clit. 

Tension began to creep into Agatha’s muscles Rio drove her closer and closer to the edge. Her grip on Rio’s hair tightened to the point that she knew that it had to be painful, but Rio didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she moaned against Agatha, sending another shot of pleasure through her entire body. She moved the hand on her hip down and tucked it under her chin to push two fingers inside her with no resistance. She thrust her fingers in time with the strokes of her tongue and Agatha released her lip from her teeth, unable to contain her moans. Without Rio’s hand holding her down, she rocked her hips up to meet each thrust of Rio’s fingers. 

When Rio started curling those fingers with each thrust, Agatha’s back arched off of the bed for a moment before she crashed head first into a powerful orgasm. Her vision blurred and her mouth fell open in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure surged through her. Rio fucked her through her orgasm until Agatha used the hold she had on her hair to push her head away when it became too much. 

While Agatha caught her breath, Rio kissed her way back up her body and hovered over her, holding herself up with an arm on either side of her head. Agatha slid her arms around her middle to pull Rio flush against her, reveling in the feeling of her warm skin pressed against her own as she settled into the cradle of her hips. Rio shifted down to her elbows so that more of her weight rested on top of Agatha. Her eyes bore into Agatha’s with an intensity that rivaled the sun and Agatha was caught in her gravitational pull. 

Agatha slid her hands up Rio’s back and pressed her palms into her shoulder blades until she took the hint and ducked her head to capture her lips in a soft kiss. She hummed at the taste of herself on Rio’s lips and pulled her tighter against her. Rio broke the kiss, but she didn’t go far. She kissed the tip of Agatha’s nose and chuckled when she wrinkled her nose in response. 

“Do you think we have enough time to shower before the little prince demands our attention?” Rio questioned as she ducked her head again to trail more kisses down Agatha’s jaw. 

Agatha ignored the renewed arousal that stirred within her as Rio nibbled at her earlobe and turned her head to peek at the clock on Rio’s nightstand. It was still about an hour until they would normally wake Nicky up for school, so with any luck they had plenty of time for an uninterrupted shower. 

“Most likely,” she breathed out, biting back a moan when Rio started sucking at the skin beneath her ear. “And if you’re lucky, I might return the favor.” 

Rio’s head snapped up and she grinned down at Agatha. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as her eyes pierced Agatha’s with that same heat as earlier. Unconsciously, or intentionally, Rio ground her hips down against Agatha’s. Agatha pulled her he knees up and locked her thighs around Rio’s hips to halt her movement. 

“We won’t have time for anything if you keep that up,” she warned huskily. 

Rio smirked and leaned in for a quick peck before she rolled off of her. 

“Vamanos, mi amor,” she said as she bound out of bed. 

She swatted Agatha’s thigh as she walked around the bed and sauntered toward their bathroom, putting a little extra sway in her hips as she went. Agatha rolled her eyes and pushed herself up. Her sore muscles protested as she pushed herself out of bed and followed Rio into the bathroom on wobbly legs. 

Rio was already in shower when Agatha stepped into the bathroom. When she pushed open the glass door of the shower, Agatha took a moment to admire her wife’s naked body under the spray of hot water. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her handy work littering Rio’s body. She was especially proud of the deep purple bruise she’d left on her collarbone. 

“Are you just going to stand there and stare or were you planning on joining me?” Rio asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Without a word, Agatha stepped into the shower and slid the door closed behind her. She quickly crossed the small distance between them and grabbed Rio by the hips and used that grip to press her against the tiled wall. Rio let out a soft ‘oompf’ before she smiled and brought a hand up to smooth Agatha’s wet hair out of her face. 

“Is this you returning the favor?” 

Agatha shrugged a shoulder with a devilish smile before she sank to her knees in front of her. She heard Rio’s short intake of breath and looked up to see Rio looking down at her, her pupils swallowing the brown of her eyes as she widened her stance slightly. Agatha’s grin widened and she winked before leaning in to do just that. 

X

It wasn’t long after they stopped out of the shower, where Agatha made Rio come once with her mouth and a second time with her fingers just because she couldn’t resist the sight of her wife coming undone, that Nicky ran into their bedroom. He threw the door open with so much force it bounced off the wall. 

“Woah,” Rio said as he ran toward where she was standing in the doorway of their closet while Agatha quickly pulled her shirt over her head. “Where’s the fire, buddy?” 

“You’re leaving today,” he said, out of breath from his sprint down the hallway. 

“I am,” Rio said, bending down to lift him into her arms. “But you know I’d never leave without saying goodbye, right?” 

From her spot in the closet, Agatha watched Nicky nod his head and wrapped his arms around her neck. Rio’s bottom lip poked out for a moment before she leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“I know,” he agreed softly, before his entire face lit up and his hands flew up to squish her cheeks together. “You’re making french toast for breakfast.” 

It wasn’t a question or a demand, but a fact that had been repeated all week leading up to today. The promise of french toast for breakfast could never overshadow the fact that Rio was going to be gone for three months, but it gave him something to look forward to anyways. 

“Mhmm,” Rio affirmed with a nod, unable to speak with the way Nicky was holding her face.  

“I get to help.” 

“Yes,” she managed though the word came out garbled. 

From her spot in the closet, Agatha brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter and not disturb the moment. 

“Okay,” Nicky said and released Rio’s cheeks. 

She set him back on his feet and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t we go brush our teeth then we can start breakfast,” she suggested. 

“I did,” he said, but by the way he immediately averted his eyes they knew he was lying. 

Rio planted her hands on her hips and craned her neck so that he was forced to meet her eyes again. 

“Are you telling the truth, Nicholas?” she asked. 

Nicky let out a sigh and shook his head. 

“That’s what I thought,” Rio said and took him by the shoulders and spun him around toward the bedroom door. “Go, I’m right behind you.” 

He went without argument, but not without stomping his little feet the whole way out of the room. The second he was out of earshot, Rio whipped her head around to pin Agatha with the same look she’d just used on their son, hands still firmly placed on her hips. 

“What?” she questioned, finally emerging from the closet. 

“My son?” she questioned, casting her eyes toward the spot Nicky just left before meeting Agatha’s again. 

“I’d say it’s fifty fifty,” Agatha said with a shrug. 

“Oh no, those theatrics are all you, my love,” Rio teased. 

Agatha narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were supervising teeth brushing?” she asked, pointing toward the door. 

On cue, Nicky’s voice floated down the hall. “Mami, I need help.” 

“Here I come,” she called back and turned to wink at Agatha before she padded out of the room. 

Agatha watched her go with a shake of her head, swallowing down the swell of emotion that threatened to bubble out of her. 

X

Agatha was given the task of cutting up fruit to go with their breakfast of french toast and bacon while Rio handled the rest with Nicky’s eager assistance. She’d let him crack the eggs into a container and picked the shells out while Agatha helped him wash his hands. He’d whisked the milk and cinnamon into the eggs as well. Rio drew the line at letting him put the dipped pieces of bread onto the hot griddle and planted him on his step stool at the other end of the counter. 

Agatha just watched them with a soft smile on her lips. She loved seeing them like this. Rio was in her element in the kitchen, casually flipping the pieces of toast as she fielded all of Nicky’s curious questions while keeping an eye on the bacon sizzling away in a pan on the back burner. 

A tug on her shirt drew her out of her thoughts and she looked down to see Nicky pointing to the small pile of strawberry slices she’d accumulated. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his stool, so lost in her own thoughts.

“Can I have a strawberry, Mama?” 

“Of course,” she answered hand handed him the half she’d just cut. 

He popped the whole thing in his mouth and skipped back over to his stool peer at the stove.

“Is it almost done, Mami?” he asked. 

“Almost,” she assured him. “Why don’t you go sit down and Mama and I will bring everything to the table when it’s ready.”  

Nicky looked between the almost finished french toast and Rio for a moment, torn before he nodded and hopped down from the stool. Agatha watched him hurry toward the table and scramble into his chair. She abandoned her fruit cutting to step around the island to slip her arms around Rio’s middle and rest her chin on her shoulder. 

“It should be criminal how attractive you are right now,” she whispered into her ear. 

Rio chuckled and leaned back into her embrace. Agatha turned her head to press a kiss to her neck and grinned into her skin when she felt Rio shiver against her. 

“Who’s insatiable now?” she asked in a throaty whisper. 

Agatha chuckled and kissed Rio’s neck again. “What was it you said earlier?” she posed thoughtfully. “Can you blame me?” 

Rio turned her head and pressed her lips to Agatha’s forehead. “You’re going to make me burn breakfast,” she said, though from her tone it was said reluctantly. 

With a dramatic groan, Agatha relinquished her hold on Rio and returned to the island to finish cutting up the fruit. She glanced back over to the stove and found Rio looking at her over her shoulder. Agatha winked and it earned her a soft smile before Rio turned her attention back to the griddle. 

X

After breakfast, the rest of the morning passed by like any other Saturday, Rio’s impeding departure momentarily forgotten. Agatha cleaned up the kitchen while Rio took Nicky outside to run off some energy. Agatha watched through the window as they kicked around a soccer ball for a little while before it turned into Rio chasing him around the yard, wiggling her fingers threateningly. She caught him around the waist easily and heaved him over her shoulder, his little limbs flailing. 

Nicky’s laughter was loud enough to hear from her spot inside the house and Agatha couldn’t help but join in as she watched Rio bring them both to the ground to launch a full tickle attack on their son. He tried valiantly to fight her off but he was no match for the tickle monster. 

“Mama!” He squealed through a fit of giggles. “Mama save me!” 

Agatha immediately abandoned the dishes and turned off the faucet to head straight for the back door. She slid it open and Rio’s assault momentarily paused as she looked up at Agatha. Her lips turned up into a challenging smirk before she descended on Nicky again. 

“Mama won’t save you,” she taunted as Nicky squirmed and giggled. 

“Yeah she will,” he shot back through gasps of breath. “Get her, Mama!” 

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Agatha quickly crossed the yard and hooked an arm around Rio’s waist. Before Rio had a chance to shake her off, Agatha yanked her back and tackled her to the grass and pin her there by straddling her hips. Nicky took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and sit on her chest. 

Rio laid there, looking stunned that she’d been bested so quickly. Agatha smirked and flicked her hair over her shoulder. 

“You were saying?” she asked, injecting as much sweetness into her tone as she could muster. 

Rio snapped her mouth shut and Agatha took that as her surrender. She leaned over to bring her face level with Nicky’s and brought a hand up to tap her chin thoughtfully. 

“I think Mami should get a taste of her own medicine, don’t you Nicky?” 

From the corner of her eye, Agatha saw Nicky’s cheeks push up into what could only be a wicked grin. He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers in Rio’s face, just as she’d done for him. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s Mami’s turn to get tickled.” 

Rio’s eyes widened and she started shaking her head when she realized what they had planned. But she’d already sealed her fate. 

“Now!” Nicky yelled and immediately went for Rio’s armpits. 

Rio let out a squawk as soon as he wedged his little fingers under her arms and mercilessly tickled her. She tried to wiggle away, but it was useless with both him and Agatha sitting on top of her. Agatha chose a different route and shifted to reach for Rio’s leg. The under side of knees were particularly sensitive and Agatha used that knowledge to go in for the kill. 

“Agatha, no,” Rio begged, kicking her leg out in an attempt to dislodge Agatha’s hold on her, but Agatha was stronger. 

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, my love,” Agatha told her regretfully. “Any last words?” 

She looked over Nicky’s head to see Rio glaring up at her, her lips set in a thin line. 

“Do your worst,” she said. 

Agatha held her stare for several moments to build the anticipation before she tickled the back of Rio’s knee with no mercy. Rio howled and kicked out her legs to no effect. She only lasted a few minutes before she was able to lift her arms up in a show of surrender. 

“Okay, okay, you win,” she said breathlessly, her face beat red and tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. 

“Yay!” Nicky cheered and hopped up from his perch on her chest. 

Agatha chuckled but remained where she sat, leaning over to plant a hand on either side of Rio’s head. 

“Don’t mess with Mama,” she whispered before ducking her head to steal a quick peck from her wife’s lips. 

“Lesson learned,” Rio said with a smile as Agatha climbed off of her. 

“Mami, can we watch Bluey now?” Nicky asked. 

“Absolutely,” Rio agreed easily as she sat up. “Mami needs a breather.” 

Agatha laughed at that and Rio snapped her head around to narrow her eyes at her. 

“Something funny?” 

“Starting to feel our age, are we?” 

Rio opened her mouth to say something but Nicky called out to her from the back door. 

“Mami, come on!” 

“I’m coming,” she assured him and grumbled while she pushed herself to her feet. 

“Careful now,” Agatha couldn’t help but push her buttons even further. “I’d hate for you to strain yourself.” 

Rio huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. She took a swat at Agatha’s ass but Agatha saw it coming and dodged her hand. 

“Don’t,” she said in warning when Agatha opened her mouth to continue to taunt her. 

Agatha, deciding to show her wife a little mercy, threw her hands up in surrender. But being who she was, she could help one last jab. 

“I’m just looking out for my dear old wife,” she said quietly. 

“I’ll get you back for that,” Rio warned, pointing a finger at Agatha. 

Agatha scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “When? In three months?” 

At her words, Rio’s expression immediately fell. She looked like someone had trampled through her prized flower bed. Agatha dropped her arms and stepped into Rio’s personal space to cup Rio’s cheeks in both of her hands. 

“Think of it this way,” she said softly. “It’ll give you plenty time to think of a creative way to punish me.” 

Rio’s lips quirked slightly and she brought her hands up to curl her fingers around Agatha’s wrists. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” she warned. 

Agatha grinned and leaned in to lightly peck Rio’s lips before she released her face. She turned to follow Nicky back into the house, Rio hot on her heels. 

X

All too soon the time came for Rio to drag the suitcases she’d packed to the front door to wait for the car that would take her to the airport. Agatha stood back as Rio kneeled in front of Nicky as they said their goodbyes. 

“Do you hafta go?” he asked in a quiet little voice, twirling a strand of Rio’s hair around his fingers. 

“I do,” she confirmed with a nod. “But it won’t be forever.” 

“How come me and Mama can’t come with you?” Nicky questioned. 

Agatha could see Rio’s eyes glistening with unshed tears as she gave him the same answer every time he’d asked that question in the weeks leading up to today. 

“Because you have school and Mama has to work. This is just Mami going to work, only a little longer than you’re used to.” 

Nicky huffed out a dramatic breath and twisted Rio’s hair around his fingers for a moment. 

“Can I come see your show?” 

Rio’s eyes lifted from Nicky’s to meet Agatha’s over his head. The plan was for Agatha and Nicky to fly out for Rio’s last show on the tour. But Nicky didn’t know that just yet. 

“I think we can make that happen,” Rio answered, looking back at Nicky. 

Nicky perked up at that. “When?” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Rio promised and tapped the tip of his nose. 

Nicky giggled and scrunched up his nose. His expression fell a moment later and his fingers resumed the mindless twirling in Rio’s hair. 

“What if I miss you too much?” he whispered. 

Rio took a deep breath and quickly swiped a hand under her eye to wipe away the tear that managed to escape before Nicky noticed. But Agatha hadn’t missed it. 

“You can call me any time, day or night,” she promised him. “I might not always be able to answer right away, but I will do my very best to call you back. How does that sound?” 

Nicky didn’t answer right away, thinking it over while he continued to play with Rio’s hair. Finally, he met her eyes and nodded his head. 

“I guess that’s okay.” 

Rio chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And you can even video call and text me too, whenever you want.” 

Nicky’s brow furrowed and he tipped his head to one side as he said. “I don’t know how to text Mami,” he pointed out. 

“I’m sure Mama can help you figure it out,” she said, looking up at Agatha for confirmation. 

Nicky followed her gaze and Agatha nodded her head in agreement. That seemed to appease him and he turned back to Rio. 

“I still don’t like it,” he admitted. 

Rio reached up and gently untangled his fingers from her hair to pull him against her chest. He snaked his arms around her neck and held her so tightly that Agatha was surprised that Rio was still able to breathe. 

“Me neither, baby boy,” she whispered into his hair. 

They stayed like for that for a long time, until the sound of tires in the driveway caught all of their attention. Agatha’s heart dropped into her stomach and the emotion that she’d been shoving down all day surged to the surface. Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook her head and cleared her throat. She wasn’t going to break down in front of Nicky. 

“Let’s help Mami bring her bags outside,” she suggested. 

Nicky pulled away from Rio and took a step back to allow her to stand. He reached for her hand and she immediately took it in her own. With the other she grabbed the handle of her suitcase. Agatha grabbed her smaller duffle bag from the floor and slung the strap over her shoulder before doing the same with her backpack. She stepped around Rio and Nicky to open the front door and lead the way to the black SUV parked in the driveway. The driver was waiting for them with the back hatch lifted and reached out for the bags Agatha carried as she approached. He did the same with Rio’s suitcase and closed the hatch. He moved to open the door for Rio, but Rio held up a hand to stop him. 

“Give me a minute?” she asked. 

The driver nodded and walked around to climb into the driver’s seat and wait. 

She turned back to Agatha, tears shining in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but Agatha stepped closer and wound her arms around her waist, cutting her off with a kiss. 

“It’s okay,” she breathed, quiet enough that Nicky wouldn’t hear. 

Rio took a shaky breath and used the hand that wasn’t still clutched in Nicky’s to cup Agatha’s jaw, her thumb gently stroking her cheek. 

“This is a lot harder than I thought it’d be,” she whispered back. 

“Yeah,” Agatha agreed. 

This was the Rio’s first tour since they’d gotten together that Agatha wasn’t going with her. She hadn’t missed a show in over a decade, but with Nicky, they’d decided not to disrupt his routine so dramatically just so Agatha could go with her. This tour marked the longest stretch of time they would be apart in the almost fifteen years that they’d been together. 

“But,” she continued, firmly. “We’ll be just fine.” 

Rio nodded her agreement, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a ghost of a smile. She leaned and planted a firm kiss on Agatha’s lips. 

“I love you,” said when she pulled back. 

Agatha smiled and squeezed Rio’s waist before she let her go. “And I love you.” 

“I love you too, Mami,” Nicky piped up from Rio’s side. 

Rio smiled and bent down to hoist him up to rest on her hip. 

“I love you most,” she told him and peppered his face with kisses until he giggled and pushed her head away. 

“Okay,” Rio said after a moment. She kissed Nicky’s forehead one last time before she handed him off to Agatha. “I should go before I miss my flight.” 

She hesitated for a moment longer before she turned and opened the back door of the SUV. She stopped before she climbed in and looked at Agatha. 

“I’ll call you when I land.” 

Agatha nodded and offered a soft smile. She watched Rio climb into the car roll the window down to poke her head out of it. She blew a kiss in their direction and smiled when Nicky reached out to catch it. 

“I’ll see you later, my loves,” she called out as the driver began to back out of the driveway. 

“Bye, Mami,” Nicky called out and waved. 

Agatha did the same and blew a kiss of her own. She stood there in the grass with Nicky in her arm waving until the SUV was entirely out of sight. She let her hand drop with a soft sigh and turned to head back inside. 

Nicky blew out a long breath and leaned his head against her shoulder. 

“I miss her already,” he said as she stepped back into the house. 

Agatha let the door close behind her with a soft click. 

“Me too, baby,” she admitted, a single tear escaping before she could stop it. She kissed the top of his head. “Me too.”

[brandstifter-sys]

Arrow to the...

Word Count: 899

Rating: T+

Characters: Remus, Virgil, Roman

Warnings: Sex mention, mild violence, partial nudity

Remus wants to surprise his boyfriend by wearing a Cupid costume and preparing a mildly romantic day for him. Virgil has other plans that win in the end.

---

It was the perfect plan!

Remus was absolutely certain that it wouldn't fail! He checked himself out in the mirror once more, admiring how his scarred, hairy body looked in nothing but an off-white diaper and his sash. He turned to the side to ogle his own butt and make sure his black angel wings were in place.

He was such a sexy little Cupid, how could his darling Scare Bear ever resist his wiles! It would lead to a beautiful day of cuddling, dancing, and love making! All he needed was his silly prop bow and suction cup arrows and he would win his lover over!

With all his supplies ready, Remus sank out and appeared in Virgil’s room.

It was dark and empty, but Remus expected that. He simply snapped his fingers and made black rose petals fall on and around the bed. Then he summoned some candles to set the mood, without lighting them—that would come later.

Not even the aromantic arachnid could deny the dedication and lust this scene brought. It was Valentine's Day and Remus was going to woo Virgil in any way he could!

But a tug in his gut pulled him away from his plan. Whoever decided to summon him would probably get a morningstar to the skull.

He appeared in the Imagination, in Roman’s castle. Something terrible must have happened if Roman wanted his help! The prince in question was standing in front of him, looking more and more disappointed and stressed with each passing second.

“Aw, you wanted to see your stinky bro!” Remus cooed and clasped his hands together against his chest in a vain attempt to look innocent.

“I'm seeing too much of him,” Roman scoffed, “And your hellhound is wreaking havoc in my garden! Since she already tried to bite my hands off, I need you to take her home.”

Remus shrugged and rolled his neck. His sweet three-headed puppy was just playing! But she managed to escape, and she had to go home. It would be a quick side quest that he could handle easily.

“I'll take her home, but don't expect me to fix your flowers—unless you want some Venus flytraps and corpse flowers!” he giggled and wiggled his shoulders impishly.

Roman rolled his eyes and waved him off before he could do something crazy.

Remus skipped through the grandiose hallways to the rear exit, fully expecting to find a muddy field of vegetative destruction on the other side.

He was confused when he found the garden in pristine condition. The hedges were neatly trimmed, the gaudy fountain was working, and the pathways were completely clear.

He wandered further into the garden, away from the castle, wondering if Roman expanded the place.

“Winifred! Sarah! Mary!” he shouted, hoping his puppo would come running. She was a good dog like that.

Thwang

Remus felt the breeze pass his face before he saw the arrow sticking out of a rosebush.

That bastard! Roman knew he was planning a whole day with his Scare Bear—this was not the time to play hunt the duke!

Thwang

Another arrow whizzed by his head. But this time he was ready to calculate the trajectory.

The shooter was on the second floor!

Th—

He turned to face his attacker and give the jackass a piece of his mind!

—wang

He only managed to turn half way before the third arrow hit him. It dug into his diaper and nicked his flesh.

But he saw exactly who decided to turn him into a pretty pin cushion. There just below the balcony, a man with four extra appendages was sticking to the wall, smirking down at him.

Remus fell to his knees and wailed like a beast caught in a trap.

“Why!? Why!?” he cried out, “Why did you aim for my beautiful bouncy booty!?”

Virgil leapt from the building and scurried over to his fallen prey, tossing his bow aside. He didn't take Remus' lamenting seriously, and simply threw the duke over his shoulder.

“You're so mean!” Remus whined as Virgil pulled the arrow out and discarded it. So it tore the stupid diaper a little, Remus would be more upset that he didn't tear it off.

“Who said I was nice?” Virgil scoffed.

“No one! Because you're so mean!” Remus pouted, “I just wanted to surprise you with my sexy costume and then be your personal slave for the day! But you just had to shoot arrows at me!”

“You know you loved the surprise,” Virgil jeered, “Besides, you like when I aim for your butt.”

Remus giggled as they sank out and rose up in Virgil's room.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” Virgil said and dropped him on the bed, “Don't expect any romantic stuff, even if you didn't like the surprise.”

Remus dragged him down and planted a smooch on his nose.

“It was fun! And I don't need you to do anything romantic—as long as I can call you my Valentine—or Daddy, or Master—I’m happy.”

Virgil curled up around him and kissed his cheek.

“You can call me that first one, and you can pick the movies today.”

“Human Centipede here we come!” Remus cheered and hugged Virgil. He had his Scare Bear who loved him in his own way, and it was just the way he liked it. What could be a more perfect way to fail at his plan?

[pikapitou]

murk!!! TRICK or TREAT!!!!! 🙀😈🤡💀

happy halloweennnnn!!! here's MY 600 words of presumed deaddie I won't finish

While Eddie is missing, Buck makes breakfast. Lunch. Dinner, too. Three meals a day, with occasional baking before he ran through the bag of flour and the freezer couldn't hold any more cookies. Between tasks his thoughts skip. Work, laundry, dinner, work. He doesn't remember anything from the gaps. Sometimes he considers, distant like it's coming from another room—is this normal? Then he has to go wash the dishes by hand, because loading the dishwasher doesn't take long enough.

The only time his thoughts run continuously is when he's with Chris. Driving him to school or having dinner or watching something before bed. Those times Buck holds onto every detail. He sits fully inside of his aching body with wet eyes and tries to—he just tries really hard. People keep telling him without telling him—you're not doing this right. You have to prepare him. Buck—can't do that, so he made Chris therapy appointments. When they drove to the first one Chris crossed his arms and refused to leave the passenger seat. They sat in the parking lot for ten minutes before Buck gave in or gave up and took them to In & Out instead.

This isn't like after the shooting, where Eddie was in a real physical room that you could visit, have face-times in, imagine in clear, crisp detail. Half of Buck had been in that hospital room. Buck could say: your dad is sleeping. Your dad is okay. Eddie's okay right now, because of course he's okay, they just... don't know where he is. So half of Buck is—floating, un-anchored. Somewhere. And all Buck can say is, we have to be patient and trust him, okay? while Chris stares at him like he's thinking something Buck really doesn't want him to say.

Bobby's in Eddie's kitchen. Buck doesn't remember letting him in, but he's here. Last time he was here was after Buck called him, vaguely explaining that Eddie was struggling, that his friends from the army were dead. There was a reason for Bobby to be there, then. There's not a reason for him to be here now, because Eddie is okay.

"How are you holding up?" Bobby asks, carefully neutral expression on his face.

"It's hard," Buck says, because people react better to that than I'm fine. They react a whole lot better than they do to Why are you asking me that? Why aren't you looking for Eddie? Why aren't you letting me look for Eddie?

"Have you..." Bobby lifts his mug of tea then puts it back down. Did he get that himself? Did Buck make it for him? Buck blinks at it until he hears his name, "Buck. Have you called Eddie's parents?"

Buck stares at him.

"They haven't found him," Buck says. "They haven't found him yet, so why do I have to call them?"

"They deserve to know, Buck."

"Why? They don't care about him. They just want Chris."

An expression crosses over Bobby's face—pained and uncomfortable and very, very sorry. Everyone looks at him like that lately. "Having family around could be good for Chris."

Buck doesn't understand. Abuela is here. Pepa is here. Buck is—it dawns on him: Bobby doesn't know. Nobody knows. Buck isn't even sure if Chris knows. And that's fine, because nobody was supposed to know, because the only time it matters is if Eddie were—which he's not.

So it doesn't matter what Bobby thinks.

A knock on the door again. Buck doesn't know how much time has passed. He did a shift, so it has to be at least twenty-four hours. A flight from El Paso to LA takes two. Eddie's parents are standing on the doorstep.