#it and its previous friends were hiding behind there and knowing that I just can’t use ANYTHING in the cabinets at this point

[thatonceandfutureprat]

Still trying to trap the last mouse.

I’ve got three traps (live catching) in strategic places, clearly the mouse is getting exhausted bc today I actually s a w it (you generally don’t) AND it keeps trying to get out by returning to the gap in the closet through which it came in.

Buddy. There’s a trap in the kitchen cabinet with seeds, a French fry AND now also a cookie in it.

All you need to do is chew the wire to get to it. There’s a nice home elsewhere for you, I promise.

Please get in. Please?

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

[coralinnii]

Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy feat: Floyd genre: humor, budding romance note: set in the same universe as previous works (Azul’s and Jade’s ver specifically), no pronouns were used, villain/ess!reader is not a merfolk, 1.6k word count, use of non-canon family name (I’ve officially adopted you),

My wifi is on the fritz again so going online hasn’t been easy but hopefully I can get it working again soon. I’ve been hiding in cafes but my wallet isn’t appreciative because I don’t like going into a cafe and not order anything T_T. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy our number 1 crazy eel boi

Series masterlist

You’re contemplating your life choices as you wonder what on Earth you did to deserve this. You can’t remember what happened that brought you into this world you once thought fictional but you were aware of how you’re probably gonna leave this world if the story stays in its original path.

You were a nameless mob character who was caught in the crossfire of your imbecile brother. During a party, your brother started bragging about your father who was a famous knight and started a knight training program after being given the title of baron, which grabbed the attention of the dangerous son of a marquis family, the Floyd Leech. Since then, the merman would suddenly visit your home to curiously watch the training while your brother continues to brag and even starts talking about how close he is to the notorious Leech family son who, while not the heir, was in line to inherit a great bit of land and some “business assets” from his father.

Your younger brother didn’t think that associating yourself with a family of suspicious background was too bad…until a rival of the Leech family invaded their home and proceeded to interrogate your family for information on the Leech household. Obviously knowing nothing, the rival family ended you and your mother’s future in anger. Your father, heartbroken and weakened by the lost of his beloved and one of his children, collapsed and became bedridden.

Still, you couldn’t hate your brother no matter how foolish he was, especially when he begged Floyd in tears to avenge his family, only to be ignored by the eel merman. “How is it my problem?” He cruelly said as he dismissed your brother to deal with his broken family.

You grew cautious, wary of people associated with the Leech household and any other noblemen that aligned themselves with them, which included the Golden Count Ashengrotto with his new partner, and that family that recently arranged an engagement with the Leech family heir with their only child.

You also taught your younger brother to learn when to hold his tongue, your family’s business is your own and avoid excessively bragging to others as it lures unpleasant leeches (he thought you meant metaphorically).

Then you explicitly told him not to interact with anyone from the Leech family, especially Floyd. You were willing to smack him over the head to get that warning across, telling him, “To him, we’re just toys. Not friends”

This was a clear solution, just don’t meet Floyd…or Jade…and have anything to do with that crazy eel family and your future is secured. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Then one day, at a party…

The night was going well. Your younger brother found a clique of his own to interact with so you didn’t have to worry about catching the attention of a certain someone. Although, while you saw Jade mingling with the crowd, you haven’t seen even the shadow of the other Leech which worries you somewhat. However, you chose to let your guard down to enjoy the ambiance of the party. You deserve to have some fun too.

Some time has passed and soon you felt your body growing tired of all the socialising. You wandered around alone to find a secluded room to rest while contemplating whether you should call it a night. Typically you stay behind until your brother was ready to leave together as to keep a watchful eye over him. But since he’s been on his best behaviour, you wondered if you’re really needed. But then, voices then disrupted your train of thought as you heard someone speaking from the other side of the closed doors of the room you were occupying.

“If you need some time to rest, Sir Leech. I suggest one of these rooms my master has prepared” someone whom you assumed to be a servant spoke but that’s not what concerned you. Did he say Leech?!

A mental battle was going in your head as you assess your situation. Which Leech was it? (Does that matter?) Should you stay? (No!) How would you get out?? (!!)

You looked around in panic as you prayed for maybe a door to a conjoining room, maybe a bathroom to hide in until he leaves. You then looked to the balcony and without a second thought, pulled the doors open. You were on the second floor which wasn’t too bad. The balcony faced the back of the house towards the back garden which meant no one should be there to witness you climbing down. You’ve seen enough parkour videos that you figured you could come of this unscathed.

But the logical part of your brain is pulling you back, telling you that this absolutely reckless, stupid really. You can imagine your dumb brother doing this but your parents urge you to be the level-headed one of the two of you (which you like to argue on, why do you have to be the responsible one?).

But before your senses could come to you, you heard the knobs of the room door shaking, and you decided that you only live once.

So jumping, it is.

Without looking down (in fear of your nerves winning), you leapt off the railings of the balcony and braced for impact. Your clothes flutter loudly in the air as you try to push the fabric from your eyes to watch your landing. But instead of the marbled flooring, you were met with a pair of surprised heterocromatic eyes.

Floyd was sighing in irritation as schools of bottom feeders noblemen rushed over to him and his brother (mainly his brother) in hopes to find themselves in good graces with the Leech household. Jade may have a better facade going but Floyd was having a harder time not to snarl and squeeze the living souls out of these suck ups. In this pompous tank, no one was worth his attention. So, Floyd figured he could kill some time away from the mindless minnows and walk towards the backyard of the mansion, maybe chill out in a tree until his brother finds him.

In no imagination he had thought of for today did he expect to see something - or someone - flying down towards him in a mass of fabric fluttering in the wind. With quick reflexes, the ocean-haired man raised his arms and swiftly caught your waist through the mess of your clothing but momentum still won against the two of you as Floyd fell backwards with you, crashing onto the ground rather unceremoniously. His anger building quickly, Floyd raised his head about to take a good look at the crazy human he’s about to squeeze. But like how quickly his anger started, it immediately extinguished when he did take a good look at you.

He saw you, a flushing mess slightly shaking from your reckless decision to literally take a plunge off the second floor. Your hair in a disarray from the wind and likely the landing as well. And your eyes that Floyd found himself watching in intrigue as a swirling range of emotion was evident in your expressive face. Most visually present was your look of fearful realization.

Floyd Leech. Out of the billions of people you could ever meet, you ended up bumping…ah no crashing into the most unpredictably violent man in this world. Granted, you’re glad you survived your frankly dumb behavior but to be saved by the man that would be your future downfall was just proof that the world was messing with you for sh*ts and giggles.

“Hey you” you let out a small shriek as you hear Floyd call out to you slowly, reminding you of a shark slowly swimming its way to you for a meal, though really what difference is there? “What’s your nam-“

In an act of reckless desperation (your second one already), you didn’t let Floyd finish his question as you rolled over to the side, twisting your body out from the merman’s grip. Disregarding your absolute messy appearance, you sprinted your way away from Floyd who was still on the ground, rounding the corner of the manor to dash towards your carriage. You’ll tell a servant to inform your brother of your early departure later. You just needed to disappear from the menace’s sight immediately.

Though there was no real hurry as the menace in question chose not to pursue as he preferred to watch you flee in such a cute manner, entertained by the way you sped off like a prey in chase.

“Floyd, are you alright?” a familiar voice called out to him from above to which he then recognised and looked up to see his brother on the second floor balcony, the same general area you appeared from, immediately understanding where you came from.

Huh, you just got more interesting.

Floyd ignored his brother’s concern and asked a question back, “Hey Jade, you got any idea who that flying fishie was?”

The Marquis heir, who noticed the opened balcony doors, managed to glimpse upon the fascinating human who not only took a chance at jumping off the second floor, but also managed to intrigue his brother enough to escape his grasp…for now.

“I cannot be certain but I believe that was the first born of the Linni family. The youngest child is still here if you would like a chat with him” Jade oh so generously offered his knowledge to his brother, knowing full well that Floyd has started itching to sink into something fun. And what kind of brother would he be to interfere in his brother’s joy?

Floyd grinned, his sharp teeth visually showing. He got back onto his feet and with one more look towards the path you fled to, walked the other way, back into the manor and towards the party area where he was giddy to have a chat with your brother. You can flee for now, Floyd loves a worthwhile chase.

[kit-kat-katie]

Moonlight Sunrise

A/N: I'm trying to aim for a fic a month for the months that I am in school, and I know I am cutting it close to the deadline, but I made it! I hope you enjoy this third part - it doesn't flow as smoothly as other parts since it was written in three disjointed writing sessions, but I like the final product. See you all in October or whenever I can write next. :)

TW: Canon-typical violence, small bit of bodily gore and blood, brief torture mention, reader throws knives

Pairing: Finnick x GN! Reader (romantic)

Summary: The next day of the 75th Hunger Games brings new allies, new feeling, new foes, new adventure, and new tragedy in your life. Contemplation is not an option - one must act with haste and caution if they want to keep their home safe.

(<- Previous Part | Next Part -> | Series Masterlist)

You and Finnick both watch Katniss and Peeta say a final goodbye to the female morphling who has died. The cannon is a bleak reminder of all that you’ve lost, and Finnick gives a quick look back to ensure that the mutts have not followed you on to the beach.

The trident finds its way into Finnick’s grasp as he scouts the perimeter. You walk a step closer to Katniss and Peeta as an airship comes from the sky to retrieve the body.

“She sacrificed herself for me and I don’t even know her name.” Peeta looks down, and you can’t help but feel bad.

You take a few steps back to let them talk for a moment as the sunrise distracts you from what’s going on.

It’s a beautiful day, and it’ll be even more beautiful when I’m out of here. The sunrise always looked beautiful from the beaches in District Four.

Finnick finds himself fishing, a comfort for the both of you, and his trident lands a catch. You weren’t sure if District 12 kids were used to having fish for breakfast, but they would make do.

You all would because that’s the only choice you have.

Adapt or die.

~

Katniss devours the fish in front of her as you and Finnick take small bites of the fish. You finish yours, and Finnick adds another piece of meat to your hands before you can object.

Peeta opens a clam with his knife, and he takes the pearl of the clam to give to Katniss. You nudge Finnick, who rolls his eyes at the gesture, with your elbow. You bite down on your lip to suppress your laugh as Katniss observes the pearl in her hand.

A scream from a forest pulls everyone’s attention to the other side of the arena. You all quickly stand up as you watch the wave crash into one sector of the Cornucopia, and as it crashes over the center, it spreads to the other parts of the Cornucopia in smaller waves. The water comes crashing close to all of you, and your legs are soaked by the waves. It’s refreshing to you, but the dull reminder of a cannon and an airship brings you back to reality.

It all could be gone, just like that.

“Someone’s here.” Katniss grabs an arrow as Peeta ducks. Finnick’s stray hand covers your abdomen as his hand tightly grips his trident. 

Make it more obvious, Finnick.

Finnick peeks from the bushes for a moment as you hide behind them

“Johanna.” He softly says before moving towards the water again.

Your eyes widen as you immediately follow behind Finnick.

“Johanna!” Finnick waves his hand as you look back and gesture for Peeta and Katniss to follow.

“They’re friends,” You say as you navigate the rocky beach, “and I’m friends with Johanna too. You’ll be fine with us.”

They both, reluctantly, follow behind you as you approach the three people in the distance.

~

“We were all the way deep in the jungle, where I thought it was safe,” Johanna, covered in blood, holds her axe to the side, “I thought it was water. Turned out to be blood. Hot, thick blood that was coming down-“

“Tick-tok, tick-tok.” Wiress approaches Johanna, who pushes her away immediately.

“-and it was choking us. We were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind. That’s when Blight hit the forcefield.” Johanna takes a quick moment to compose herself. “He wasn’t much, but he was from home.”

“Tick-tok, tick-tok.” Wiress grabs Johanna’s shoulder, and Johanna shoots you and Finnick a knowing glare.

“What’s wrong with her?” Katniss asks as Wiress continues repeating the same phrase over and over.

“She’s in shock,” Beetee explains as he finishes washing the rest of the blood off of him, “Dehydration isn’t helping. You have fresh water?”

You watch Wiress continue to hang onto Johanna, and you step past Finnick to intervene before Johanna does something she’ll regret.

“We can get some-“

“Tick-tok, tick-tok-“

Wiress clings to Johanna, but you place a hand on Wiress’s shoulder. She immediately places her hands on your shoulders as she continues to talk.

“I know, I know-“ You nod at Wiress, but Johanna’s reached her limit.

“Just- just shut up!” She screams at Wiress, and you lightly push Wiress behind you as Johanna charges at her.

“Hey, lay off her!” Katniss yells before intervening herself.

This can’t possibly end well.

Katniss charges at Johanna and tries to get her hands on her, but Johanna pushes her back. Finnick is quick to push himself between the two of them. You want to help, but Johanna’s stronger than you are, pissed-off or not, and you’re not wanting to test her as is. Finnick pulls Johanna further into the water as Peeta holds Katniss back.

“I got them out for you,” Johanna yells at Katniss before directing her anger to Finnick, “let me go!”

Johanna continues to struggle against Finnick’s grip, but the situation is diffused, for now, so your attention turns back to Wiress.

“I’m sorry, Wiress.” You look at the blood on your hands from Wiress along with the blood on Wiress herself. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You gently lead Wiress into the water as she continues to tell you ‘tick-tok’.

What are you trying to tell me?

You’re too tired and stressed about every little thing to try and figure it out, but you notice that Wiress is focused on Katniss. Katniss’ eyes meet yours, and you happily wave her over to help you clean her off.

It’ll help keep Katniss focused on something besides trying to hurt Johanna.

“I got this.” Katniss says as you gently pour some water onto Wiress’ clothes. 

The murderous intent has left Katniss’ eyes, so you switch spots with her before heading over to Johanna and Finnick.

“Finnick, you’re lucky I didn’t kill her-“

You giggle under your breath after splashing a moderate amount of water onto Johanna and Finnick.

“-Perhaps you could save the murder for after lunch?”

Finnick heartily laughs as Johanna sends you a deadly glare.

“You look like shit. Did you tumble down a mountainside?”

“I did, actually,” A light smirk plays on your face as the next comment flies out of your mouth, “but I think you looked better with blood than without it-“

You choke on the large splash of water that Johanna sends your way. You wipe the water out of your face as you stand there, aghast. Finnick throws his head back and laughs as Johanna manages to crack a smile.

“I missed you too, Johanna,” You roll your eyes before washing the blood off of your hands, “and I wouldn’t laugh, Finnick.”

You lightly flick some water onto Finnick, and his warm smile sends butterflies into your stomach as Johanna carefully observes the both of you. 

The playfulness in his eyes sends you retreating back to the shore, but he manages to grab your arm and pull you under water.

You quickly remerge from the water as Finnick pulls you towards him. You both laugh as you place your hands on his chest.

Finnick takes one of your hands and pulls you towards the shore as you try to shake off any previous shyness or embarrassment. You look back at Johanna, who quirks an eyebrow at you.

Don’t mess that up, she mouths to you as you wink at her.

I wasn’t planning on it.

~

The cool water feels refreshing against your skin. District 4 had taught you to find comfort in water, and your first round of the Hunger Games taught you how much of a luxury water truly was.

Dehydration was a major player in your Hunger Games as the main careers were the only ones with access to water with their strong set of sponsor. You were, in all senses, a fish out of water. Dead bodies by berry bushes taught you how to forge, but you would have been dead without a few sponsors of your own. The first canister of water came from your mentors, and you showed your gratefulness through a warm smile and a small ‘thank you’.

That moment was played over and over across Panem. Hubris flowed and weaved through most of the tributes, but not you, apparently. Finnick would laugh and tell you that you learned that from your favorite mentor. You wanted to tease him back, to say that you didn’t learn anything from him, but you did learn how humble and kind he truly was.

Instead, you told him that Mags was your favorite mentor, and he didn’t talk to you for three whole hours.

Your eyes fall to Finnick’s form next to you. He was attractive, with plenty of golden boy looks and charms to spare. You’d never live it down if you told him that, but you weren’t sure if you’d live at this moment, so maybe another moment to see his smile would be worth the temporary embarrassment.

“Are you watching me?” A sly smile rests on his face as he stands next to you on the shoreline.

“In your dreams, pretty boy.”

His trident sinks into the sand as his head leans toward you.

“I like when you call me those names, sweetheart.”

His hot breath on your neck sends a wave of shivers down your spine, and you raise an eyebrow at him before turning to face him. His lips are inches away from yours, but you want to tease him before he gets what he wants.

“Oh, and what else would you like me to call you? Handsome, perhaps?” A coy smile, matched with wide eyes, causes Finnick to laugh for a moment before responding.

“Anything would be good, as long as it came from your lips.”

“Finnick!” You lightly push him away before nervously looking around you.

“You’re nervous about one of them seeing you after you kissed me in front of the whole Capitol?”

“That was different,” You slightly whine as Finnick looks at you with amusement, “I wanted to make sure that you knew how I felt in case something happened to me.”

His mood darkens for a moment.

“No one’s going to hurt you, not on my watch,” His eyes light up again, “but it’s sweet to know that you think of me from time to time.”

“Of course I do,” Mischief finds a way to lace itself back into your voice, “you’re my dearest mentor.”

“Not your favorite?” His puppy dog eyes don’t convince you one bit.

“Still Mags,” You laugh after he sighs in defeat, “but you’re my favorite person, if that’s any consolation prize.”

“I still want to be your favorite mentor.” He grumbles as you continue to merrily laugh.

I wish we could spend every day like this on the coastline at home. Life has a different plan, it always does.

~

“This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock,” Katniss explains as your group walks toward the Cornucopia, “with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge. It all starts with the lightning, then the blood rain, fog, monkeys… that’s the first four hours. At ten, that big wave hits over there.”

You admire her deducing skills as she points out each sector. You do your best to memorize them - it could help save your life.

“Wiress, you’re a genius.” Finnick softly compliments her as you approach the weapon rack. 

You grab as many throwing knives as possible along with a small satchel to store them in. Being defenseless wasn’t really your style, and you had to prove yourself in some way.

The group discusses the lightning occurrence, and the chatter doesn’t catch your ear as you focus on your surroundings. You’re out in the open, vulnerable on most sides, and someone would get killed if they strayed-

“Relax, you’re tensing up.” Finnick places his hand on your back for a moment before retrieving another small knife from the group.

“I’m just worried,” You say as Finnick offers you the knife, “but thanks-“

He pulls the knife back for a moment with a wicked smile as you dramatically roll your eyes and sigh.

“What do you want me to do, say please?”

“I was going for a kiss, but please will work for me.” He tosses the knife in the air, and you snatch it before he can grab onto it.

“Perhaps you’ll get what you want when there’s less people around,” You tease before you hear the group gathering nearby. “and when there’s less people trying to murder us.”

Wiress sings a childhood lullaby on a rock near the water as Peeta draws a circle on the ground. Finnick moves his hand from your back to his side, but you’re quick grab his hand with yours.

“From twelve to one, there’s lightning, and from one to two, there’s blood,” Peeta divides the circle into even parts as he deciphers the arena, “then fog, then monkeys.”

“Ten to eleven, the wave. What about everything else? Did you guys see anything?”

I think I would remember seeing something bad from this hellhole.

You shake your head as Johanna answers.

“Nothing but blood.”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you stay clear of whichever sectors active, you’ll be safe.” Peeta counters.

“Yeah, relatively speaking-“ Finnick pauses, as do the rest of you, when you hear a soft gasp from the same spot that Wiress was sitting at.

With a knife in her back from Gloss, Wiress was lifeless in his arms. Your survival instincts kick in as you pull a knife to throw, but Katniss beats you to it with an arrow to his chest. The cannon booms twice in a row as your suspicions are proven right: you’re a target, right where the hunters want you.

Your eyes spot a blob of blonde moving in the distance, so you push Johanna towards it as you look for the other two careers. She can handle herself, along with Katniss. You’re worried about Beetee and Peeta because Finnick cannot protect both of them with an attack on all fronts. You let go of his hand as you prepare yourself to fight like hell for yourself, Finnick, and your friends.

A canon booms as Brutus throws something sharp at the four of you. You duck and pull Beetee down with you as the rest avoid the projectile with ease. You immediately get back up as Brutus charges at Finnick while Enobaria approaches from behind. With a knife in hand, you throw it her way to pull her attention from Finnick. The knife scraps her cheek and leaves a small, bleeding cut where it had once touched her skin.

Enobaria looks at you for a moment, a small bit of fear in her eyes, before baring her teeth at you. With a small glance to Brutus and her fallen allies, she runs to take cover along with Brutus. 

Finnick pushes a charging Peeta back as Katniss and Johanna chase after them. You barely have time to think before the center of the Cornucopia starts to spin rapidly. You fall to your knees but are able to grab onto a rock before you fall into the water. Peeta grabs onto one near you, but you can’t tell if any of the others have fallen in to the spinning death trap or if you all are hanging on by a mere thread. 

Your eyes catch the sight of the shiny weapons above you that rattle rapidly with the movement of the Cornucopia. You curse under your breath as they start to fall off, but you’re able to navigate your body around them with little to no issue. Peeta struggles a bit more, but your focus lands on his hands. He won’t be able to hold on much longer since he’s not used to the waves constantly crashing into his body.

The last of the weapons and crates fly past you as the Cornucopia slows down and eventually stills. You crawl up to level ground before taking a deep breath.

That was… an experience.

Peeta quickly gets off the ground as you hear Katniss coughing in the distance. Johanna and Peeta run to aid her as you simple bask in the warm glow of the sun. The water was cold and unfamiliar against your skin - a feeling that you hated with every iota of your body.

You pull yourself up before Finnick and Beetee approach you.

“You okay?” Finnick asks as Beetee tries to wipe off his glasses.

How did he manage to keep those things on?

“I’ll survive.” You shake off his concern with a light smile.

Concern still rests in Finnick’s irises, but he lets the question rest for now.

“Let’s just get what we need and get off the bloody island.” Johanna convincingly says, and you nod in agreeance.

I knew this wouldn’t be a good idea, and here we are. Another person who is a needless causality.

~

You stare out at the ocean, reflecting on the events that have just occurred. This activity used to bring you comfort, a moment of relief from the ever-chaotic life of a Victor, but waves of sadness crashed against your heart just as the waves of water splashed your feet.

A couple of tears fall from your eyes as you replay the fight at the Cornucopia again and again. If you had been with Wiress, you could’ve saved her. If you had been more aware and less of a romantic idiot, then one less person’s blood would be on your hands. 

You couldn’t listen to the five of them discuss who was alive, and the next plan. Not so soon after Wiress’ death, after someone you cared about was ripped from your life without any hesitation.

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you imagine the Capitol citizens cheering at your display of affection. You had always had a soft heart for the tributes you trained and your fellow victors, so a moment like this was not uncommon.

You remember how you bawled after the first set of tributes from District 4 died under your mentorship and guidance. You had locked yourself in your room, and Mags was the first one to come knocking on the door.

“Mags, I can’t do this!” You cry out from under the sheets.

She gently knocks, twice, against the door.

“They were counting on me…” You mumble under your breath as another wave of tears fell from your eyes.

She stayed out there all night until you came out for breakfast the next day. You had never felt such strong affection from someone until that moment, when she hugged you as she wiped your tears. Mags always knew what to do. 

What would she do now?

She’d smile and stroke your face with a loving look in her eyes before nodding in front of you. With a small hug, she would send you back in to face whatever had been bothering you.

Mags was your favorite mentor because she understood you like no one else would. She knew who you were under the sunshine, and she still accepted you for it. That, however, didn’t stop Finnick from creeping into your heart.

Maybe Finnick wasn’t your favorite mentor, but rather, your favorite person. You’d have to tell him that sometime, if you got the chance.

Unfortunately, your introspective thoughts had to be put aside as someone stood up from behind you.

“Prim!” Katniss screams before running into the forest.

Your eyes widen as you realize what’s pulling her to the forest.

Mockingjays.

~

Mockingjays were your least favorite flying creatures by far. Many other tributes would regard them as an annoyance, but you had watched one tear your District 4 tribute, the one from your first set of Hunger Games, away from you. The birds sung praises of loved ones, and promises of safety and familial love. You knew better, but they didn’t. 

That damned bird was harnessed by the career pack, and they murdered your district partner in cold blood as you watched from the shadows. After they left, you made a small bouquet of flowers and laid it on your ally’s chest. Soon after, you received a parachute from your second sponsor - a set of knives to bring harm to those who had taken your last piece of home away from you.

Here you were, again, watching as your mentor sat silently in the field after being trapped with the mockingjays for an hour. Katniss had Peeta to tell her that everything was okay, but what could you say to Finnick that he didn’t already know? Annie and Mags were safe, for now, and you were here beside him. You were physically here, but your mind kept replaying the image of your fellow tribute bleeding to death on the ground.

The man in front of you started to resemble the kid who was slain in the games, and as soon as a grotesque image of Finnick’s lifeless body entered your mind, you quickly stood up and brushed past a ranting Johanna.

“What are they-“

“Don’t, just don’t.” Johanna quickly defends you from any questioning as you make your way back to the beach, to your safe place.

You sit on the sand, waiting for some answer to rise out of the water. The waves had always calmed your mind, but between Wiress’ death and the Mockingjays, you couldn’t find anything relaxing about the water. Everything felt suffocating, like you were drowning in a tide pool of your thoughts and emotions.

You sit down on the sand and let everything crash over you. There are no more tears, no more sadness… just an empty, horrible feeling at the bottom of your stomach.

“Mind if I join you?” Finnick’s voice floats to your ears, but you can’t find the energy to respond to him.

You’re drained, tired, and ready to go back to District 4, but there was no going back from what was already planned out.

Finnick chooses to take your silence as an answer as he slowly sits next to you. You think about how odd you look, tribute and mentor, side-by-side. You’re not a teenager any more - neither is he - but you feel childish, refusing to talk to him after he went through something as horrible as those Mockingjays.

“I’m sorry.” You bluntly say while cutting out any mental excuses that your brain is making up.

Finnick doesn’t respond, and you don’t have the courage to look at him. You, subconsciously, place your hand to the side in an attempt to ground yourself in the moment. You needed to be here, now, in the moment-

His hand, ever-so-gently, is placed on top of yours.

Everything has felt so fucked-up as of late.

But this? Being close to Finnick - getting all of his touch, his teasing,  his kindness, his everything - it was everything to you.

For the first time since you entered the arena, you felt at home.

~

A familiar tune plays as your group stops to look at those who have been killed today. Familiar faces appear in the sky, both ones you love and hate, but there is no time for any regret to be spared. There is a plan - one that is highly dangerous and highly unlikely to work - but you have no time. The clock ticks in your head, in your heart, in your body, until midnight.

You’ll be dead, a slave to the Capitol, or on your way to an uncertain future.

What great options.

You approach the tree right behind everyone else as Beetee begins to work. You back away and let him do the rest as midnight ticks closer with every waking breath.

~

Beetee hands Katniss the rest of the electrical wire, and instructs you, Katniss, and Johanna on what to do and where to meet. Like any decision made so far, someone has to disagree with the plan that was crafted beyond their awareness.

“I’ll go with them as a guard.” Peeta says, but Beete quickly disagrees.

“No, no, you’re staying here to protect me… and the tree.”

The suspicions quickly clouds around Katniss and Peeta as you exhale deeply.

Why does every decision have to start and end with an argument? 

“No, I need to go with her.” Peeta harshly says.

“There are two careers out there, and I need two guards.” Beetee matches Peeta’s intensity as you glance over at Finnick.

Do something, you mouth at him before he turns back towards everyone else.

“Finnick and Johanna can protect you just fine.” Peeta tries to reason with him, and Katniss, as always, jumps in with her own opinion on the matter.

“Yeah, why can’t Finnick and Johanna stay with you while Peeta, Sunny, and I take the coil?”

Your ears perk at the second mention of your name as you turn to look at Katniss, but she’s staring holes into Beetee.

“You all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?” Beetee approaches Katniss, who stays silent.

“It’s his plan,” Johanna chimes in, “we all agreed to it.”

“Is there a problem?” Finnick, finally, decides to speak up as you cross your arms.

“Excellent question. Is there a problem?” Beetee matches Katniss’ glare, and you watch her back down.

“No, there’s no problem.”

You would’ve stepped in, but the hostility that Katniss has displayed in the current moments has made you question that action. You’d like to walk out of here with as few arrows in your body as possible.

Peeta and Katniss share a parting kiss as you glance over at Finnick again.

Be careful, he mouths to you as you prepare to take your leave.

I always am, you silently say back before you depart with Katniss and Johanna towards the water.

~

Your mind is in a state of complete disarray as you make your way towards the beach. Katniss makes a point to hand you her bow instead of Johanna, but she’s quick to snatch it back as soon as she can.

I don’t blame her for being on edge. I am too.

Regret is the ugly feeling consuming you - regret for not telling Finnick something in that last moment, the last moment you might ever see him again.

Don’t say that, don’t think that. You will find your way back to home, you always do.

Thoughts of home kept you safe, calm, and sane in your first Hunger Game. Home, then, was your family home with all of your loved ones inside. Home was the beach where you and your school friends would play after lessons were through. Home was the smell of freshly cooked fish in the air that mingled with the sea salt smell of the water. Home was everything that District Four was.

Thinking about home, now, lead you back to the same person again and again. His golden locks that you spent far too long admiring, his sugary smile that melted your heart at the mere mention of it, and his sweet gestures and sly words that had you both toeing the line between fellow mentors and something more.

You wondered if you would get another chance to kiss him, to tell him every emotion that he inspired in you. If you didn’t, wherever you ended up, you would tell them about Finnick: the man he was, is, and always will be.

“C’mon, I want to put as much distance between us and this beach as possible,” Johanna sternly tells Katniss as she brings the wire behind the three of you, “frying is not the way I want to go.”

“There’s something…” Katniss trails off as she tugs on the wire behind her.

A few more tugs from Katniss, and the wire comes free. The knife naturally comes to the front of your hand as Brutus approaches from the distance.

A quick look from Johanna causes you to throw said knife at him. He dodges it before stopping, but the sickening smile on his face sends shivers down your spine. You hear Johanna hit Katniss on the back of the head as you grab another knife. 

So it begins.

You throw another knife at Brutus, and his dodging skills worsen as the knife cuts open part of his uniform and stomach. The cut isn’t too deep, not enough to kill, but it gives enough of a distraction for Johanna to cut the tracker out of Katniss’ arm.

Enobaria appears next to him, and your eyes widen as Johanna tells Katniss to stay down. You ready another knife, but Johanna shoves you to her right.

“Go,” She say before preparing to strike with her axe, “and don’t look back. Haymitch isn’t the only person I made a promise to.”

Finnick-

You nod in solemn agreement before taking off back towards the tree. 

After a minute of running, you hide among the bushes for the moment as you hear footsteps approach.

“Johanna, Sunny, where are you?” Finnick calls out before stopping not too far from you.

Every cell inside you is reaching out to say something, to call out to him, but you can’t.

You tear off a small part of your tribute outfit before preparing to plunge your knife into your left arm.

The tracker has to go out one way or another.

Katniss was ready to go, and with a clean knife cut, yours was out too. The pain was immeasurable, but you quickly stop the bleeding with your makeshift bandaid. You throw the tracker towards the beach as you hear Finnick walk away from Katniss and yourself.

You can hear Katniss struggling to stand, so you quietly approach her while cutting off another part of your shirt. Once you emerge from the bushes, an arrow is pointed at your chest, but Katniss doesn’t put her bow down.

“You have to trust me, just for a while longer.” You toss her the strip of clothing, and she puts her bow down to tie up her arm before heading back to the tree. 

You quietly trail behind her, nerves on edge, as you hold your knife in anticipation for an attacker. Katniss holds the wire in her hand as she looks at the tree curiously.

Sparks by the left side of the tree send Beetee flying as you quickly pass Katniss to check on Beetee.

He’s twitching and non-response, but breathing.

“Beetee-“

You pause as Katniss spots a makeshift spear nearby. Your eyes widen as you look at the tree in front of you - a ticking death machine as far as you were concerned.

You pull Beetee as far away from the tree as you can manage before another cannon fires.

“Peeta!” Katniss screams as her anger flares towards you.

The arrow is lined straight at your heart - if she releases it, you’re dead.

But you don’t fear death, not for a moment. If your death saves her and everyone else, then it would be a worthy sacrifice.

A tear falls, but not of fear or sadness, but pity. Pity for the poor girl in front of you who only knows how to solve violence with more violence.

You could only hope that Peeta was alive out there, and that Brutus or Enobaria were the one dead. 

Rummaging through the nearby bushes causes her to misfire, as the arrow makes it mark into your knee. You crumble to the ground in horrendous pain as you only hope that this all will work out. You wonder if you will be able to walk again - your mentors had warned that injuries to the lower-half of your body would wound you for life if it didn’t cause your death in the arena.

You can only be a spectator as Katniss prepares another arrow, one to fire at the person who’s headed this way.

“Katniss, where are you?” Finnick cries out as Katniss prepares to fire her arrow at her.

You can only writhe in pain and be a spectator as Finnick notices Katniss. Pain constricts your throat, so you can’t tell him that you’re out of the way, that you’re safe, but he’s not.

You can’t watch someone else, someone from your home, die right in front of your. You were a helpless kid then as you watched someone die, but now, you were an adult.

Hell will have frozen over if you don’t do something about it.

You try to move your injured leg after a little pain subsides, but a shooting pain in your knee keeps you from moving your legs anymore than you have to.

“Katniss, remember who the real enemy is.” Finnick warns her as she continues to stay on-guard with her arrow pointed at his chest.

You look over at Beetee as guilt washes over you. You won’t let anyone else you care about die, not even the girl who shot you in the damn knee. With one hand in front of the other, you pull yourself out of the shadows and towards the two of them. Pain shoots through your body, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins counteracts it.

You try to stay as far away from the tree as possible as Katniss decides what to do next. She lowers her bow for a moment as thunder starts to collect around the tree of you. A bush blocks your view for a moment as you continue to crawl, but you hear Finnick warn Katniss to stay away from the tree. The last thing you remember was Finnick charging forward and Katniss releasing an arrow towards the lightning strikes before sparks clouded your vision until it faded completely black.

~

White.

The only color you see around you is white. Your arms are restricted by some sort of holding device behind you. You struggle against them, but your effortless are completely and utterly useless.

“We had a deal, Sunny.” 

Shivers run up your spine as a clean set of black boots approach you. You know that voice, you’ve heard it all over speakers and right in front of you, and you hate its smugness. Its owner, however, is objectively the worst part.

Your eyes glance up to meet his as Snow cruelly smiles at you.

“And here I was, thinking that you would be something so much greater than yourself,” He chides you before pulling something out from behind his back, “what a fool I was.”

“I think, Sunny,” He continues as the weapon in his land comes to life with electric sparks, “that you and I need to become reacquainted with one another. Who, truly, is the real Sunny?”

Your screams aren’t heard from the soundproof rooms, and he doesn’t stop after you feel yourself fade away to nothingness.

~

The gently rocking of a carrier ship disturbs your unpeaceful rest. An oxygen mask helps you calm your breath as you open your eyes. The lights blind your vision, and for a moment, you’re scared that your nightmare was about to come true.

“Well, that went about as well as possible.” Haymitch mumbles before setting Katniss down next to you. Your eyes dart to the other side, where Beetee gently rests next to you.

“She needs time to adjust,” Another man, one that you don’t quite recognize, says before his eyes meet yours, “but they look less violent.”

Haymitch turns to you as he lets out a deep sigh.

“Sorry about your knee, and sorry about the shit job I did wrapping it up. Finnick re-wrapped it, by the way-“

You immediately sit up as Haymitch gently grabs your shoulder.

“Yes, yes, your lover boy is okay, calm down. You’re not going anywhere fast for a long time.” You look at your knee with Haymitch as you see the wound bleeding through the bandaging. It’s carefully wrapped, not too tight, just like Finnick did whenever you got cuts on your hands from the rocks back at home.

“Sunny?” 

You push Haymitch away with the strength of a toddler as Finnick approaches this part of the plane.

“Okay, I got it, you two need some alone time.” Haymitch stands up before heading to the front of the plane. “Plutarch-“

“You did good, protecting the Mockingjay. If you feel like fighting again, we could always use someone like you.” Plutarch says before following Haymitch to the front of the carrier ship.

Finnick quickly passes both of them as the door closes behind him. Once he reaches your side, he pulls the oxygen mask off your face and lightly caresses your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You, in response, raise a hand towards the bruises on his face.

“Your cheek-“ You croak out as Finnick shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. How’s your knee?”

“Hurts.” You mumble softly.

His eyes never leave yours, and the adoration in his eyes melts your core. You two stay in a comfortable silence as you place your hand on his chest.

“I won’t let anything else hurt you, I promise. We’ll be safe in District 13, I-“

You cut him off with a sweet kiss to the lips.

“I love you,” You lovingly whisper after your lips leave his, “now and forever.”

“Even with everything we’ve been through?” He quietly says as you reassure him.

“Especially considering everything we’ve been through.”

This time, his lips meet yours as you melt into Finnick’s chest, and, for now, this feels enough like home.

~

tagging -> @yokolesbianism , @avoxrising (send an ask or reply to be added for any future updates!)

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Reborn - Part 25 (final chapter)

Pairing: Billy Russo X Reader (from A Woman Scorned)

Rating: R / 18+ only

A/N: This is a sequel to A Woman Scorned and takes place a few years after the events of AWS.

MasterList (includes links to AWS and previous chapters here)

Summary: You and Billy are happily married when tragedy strikes, jeopardizing your relationship and everything you two have built together. Can the two of you find your way back to each other or is the special bond you once shared broken forever?

Chapter 25

It had been two weeks since you returned home, and there had not been any contact with Billy during that time. Every night you read his letter, and all it did was confuse you and leave you with conflicting feelings. You appreciated his apology for the immense pain he caused, and there were moments when you wished you could get past everything and give into your feelings - but those feelings subsided and you longed for space again.

You scanned your empty apartment, looking so vast now that all of your stuff had been removed. Not that you’d ever been attached to the kitchen, but it made you uneasy every time you remembered that bitch Dumont attacking you in it. This place was home for only a short time, but now it was tainted and you didn’t want to be here any longer. You needed a fresh start, and that’s why leaving the city was important.

You asked for time and space… I’ll give it to you.  

Billy had promised that in the letter, and kept his word. Which made your last two days at the cabin with him even more significant. But then reality had reared its ugly head, and he decided it was safe to return to New York City. Fisk wasn’t after them, Dumont was dead, and Frank didn’t know about Billy’s part in Cerberus - there was no longer any reason to hide from the world.

Lights flickered on and off at the various apartments in the building across from yours. Taking a sip from your plastic solo cup, you wondered if he was out there watching you right now. He may have promised time and space but all that meant was that he’d keep his distance. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep tabs on you. It’s who Billy was, it was part of his obsessive nature, and a facet of him you loved.

“Are you okay?”

Davina’s voice cut through the haze of uncertainty clouding your mind. “I’m fine.”

“Are you excited about the trip?”

You turned around to face your friend. “Kinda.”

“I think some time away will do you good.”

“I know, me too.”

“If you still have left anything in the office, I can go pick it up.”

“No, it’s fine. I got everything I needed.”

“Can’t have been easy,” Davina remarked.

You bit your cheek, sighing. “It wasn’t, but it was time. Frank and Curtis have a good handle on things.”

“And did you see Billy there?”

Your stomach twisted into knots at the mention of his name. “No. He knew I was coming so he stayed away.”

“He knows you’re leaving the country?”

“I texted him after. Told him to meet me at the airport.”

Davina looked concerned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

You shrugged your shoulders, your gaze wandering over to where your suitcases were packed. “I’m not going to let him change my mind.”

“I kinda wish he would. I hate that you’re leaving, I’m going to miss you so much.”

You sent Davina a grateful smile. “Me too. But I need to get away and just leave-”

“-all this behind,” she finished for you. “I get it, you’ve been through a lot of shit in the past few years. You need a break.”

“I need a new life.”

“Hey, you might end up meeting some hottie on your new adventures that’ll change your life.”

You chuckled. That was Davina, eternal optimist. “Yeah, sure.”

The two of you finished your drinks and started doing a final check of the apartment before returning the keys.

***

You glanced down at your phone. An hour and a half hour before your flight. You were already checked in and your luggage dropped off, but you still had to go through security and it was a madhouse at the airport. Would Billy come? You didn’t know, but it was time to stop stalling. You scanned the area one last time before heading towards the security gate. It was only when you were close to the entrance that you spotted Billy. He was staring at you, watching you intently like he had a habit of doing. Your heart drummed, your stomach quivering. A part of you wanted to run to him, to abandon your plans and just lose yourself in his arms – but you couldn’t.

As you drew closer, you noted his heated glance. The scars on his face should have marred his good looks but instead he looked rugged, his imperfections making him even hotter. Billy was dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a crisp blue shirt underneath, his hands tucked into his pockets. Finally you came to a stop in front of him, ensuring there was enough distance between you two. Jaw clenched, he studied you with a burning intensity.

“So this is it. You’re leaving,” he finally spoke.

“I need to.”

“You want to,” he argued.

To anyone else his current tone would have reeked of contempt and hate, but you saw right through the façade and into the heart of a man who was hurt and afraid, a man desperate to love you. His body was taut with tension, anger screaming in his eyes, demanding your full attention.

“You don’t have to run to the other side of the world to get away from me. I promised you I’d leave you alone. I meant it.”

“Not sure I could stay away,” you confessed.

Hope flashed in his eyes for a fleeting moment. “You don’t have to.”

The lump in your throat hurt, your heart aching. “I do, Billy, I need to put space between us. I need to know that I can live in this world without you, that I can be happy.”

“You want to forget me,” he accused, his voice cracking. “Move on like I mean nothing to you.”

Unable to take the pain in his gaze, you lowered your eyes. “Maybe this could be a good thing for you too. Maybe you can-”

“What? Be the guy I was before I met you? The same guy who used to fuck everything that moved?”

It made you sick to your stomach to think of him with someone else. You gritted your teeth instinctively, glaring up at him.

Suddenly he stepped forward, narrowing the distance between you. His dark, molten eyes swept over your face, inhaling you in and consuming every inch of you with every breath. “You don’t like that, do you? Pisses you off, right? Me fucking other women?”

“Do whatever you want.”

“You’re who I want.” The intensity in his voice was intoxicating, his words tugging you towards him just as much as his hand that wrapped around your waist. “There’s no one else for me. Only you. And it’s fucking selfish of me, I know, but I don’t wanna be who I was before you.”

“You were happy then. Things were easier.”

“Fuck that!” He bent forward to lower himself to your height. “I was numb before you. You made me strong, you made me fucking feel. You’re in my blood and I’m never giving that up!”

“The last few years have been hell, Billy.” Tears stung the back of your eyes, you sniffled. “For both of us.”

“And we’re still here!” he said ferociously. “We still love each other even if you can’t say it. I’d destroy the fucking world for you and you’d do the same.”

“Too much has happened,” you whispered. “I need space-”

“I kept my distance, didn’t I? I fucking hate it but I’ve been staying away.” His other hand cradled your face, thumb swiping over your bottom lip as his gaze bore into you. “Don’t leave. Stay here. We don’t have to be together, but I need to know you’re okay.”

“I can still feel you around me, Billy. You’re always watching me and I can sense it, even though you’re good at hiding yourself.” You exhaled a short breath, your fingers quivering as you traced the scars on his face. “I’m weak when it comes to you. If you’re close by, I’ll run to you.”

Hurt flitted across his face. “And you don’t want that.”

“I’m still getting over everything that happened,” you admitted. “It’s too raw, that pain is still fresh. And ignoring it isn’t gonna help me, I know that. It’ll just make me hate myself more.”

Vibrating with emotion, he leaned closer to rest his forehead on your temple. “I don’t want that for you.”

“I know,” you signed, closing your eyes. You breathed him in, noting the new subtleties of the cologne he was wearing. You were familiar with his favourites but this was something new, not associated with notes that triggered memories of happier times.

There was chaos all around, crowds of people mulling around the airport but it didn’t seem to touch you and Billy. The two of you were in your own world, isolated from others.

“When I was in college I’d hear stories about people travelling through Europe, or going to Thailand and sleeping on the beach. Just getting away and having meaningful experiences, you know? I always wanted to go try something like that but back then I could never afford to travel.”

His fingers glided through your hair before fisting the strands, holding you tightly against him.

“I missed out on so many things because I was always too busy hustling.”

“Me too,” Billy admitted. “Growing up poor does that to you.”

“Now I actually have time to do this, and I want to take advantage of it. I want to do things I’ve never done before.”

“I could go with you,” he offered hesitantly.

“Then this whole trip would be about us, not me. I need this for myself, Billy.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh, hugging you. For a long time the two of you remained in each other’s arms, clinging to each other.

“You’ll come back to me?” he asked after a long while.

You didn’t want to give him false hope, you loved him too much for that. “I don’t know.”

His arms tensed, you felt his internal struggle to let you leave whilst growing desperate to hold on to you. He was in agony, his soul crying out to you.

“I love you. I always will.” His words weren’t tender nor gentle. No, they were immersed in rage and grief and loss and complete despair. He pulled away from you, his eyes red with tears while he reached into his pocket to retrieve something. You stared down at his palm, staring at the familiar jewelry box, one you thought was still locked away in your dresser. He snapped it open. You hadn’t realized it was missing yet there used to be a time when the engagement ring and wedding band were gilded around your finger. He gripped your hand with his own, thrusting the box into your palm, squeezing your joined hands together. “We own each other and that’s never gonna change. Doesn’t matter if you’re here or a million fucking miles away.” Lips pursed into a thin, angry line, he glowered at you. “Do whatever you have to, but next time I see you I’m putting this back on your finger whether you want it or not.” Eyes fixed on you, he shut the lid close and returned the jewelry case back into his pocket.

Without another word he turned around and stormed away, leaving you with your heart lurching and your stomach in coils.

After he disappeared from your line of sight, you took a deep breath and headed for security.

*****

It wasn’t easy at first. You were a woman traveling alone, going to places that weren’t necessarily the safest. But eventually you managed to navigate your way through unfamiliar surroundings, be cautious and blend into crowds so that you didn’t stand out as a tourist. You learned to listen to your instincts but also put your guard down a little so you could enjoy yourself. You were always great at schmoozing so that skill came in handy when you met people from various sectors of life. You hung out with locals and tourists alike, and immersed yourself in the art and culture each country had to offer.

Days went by in a whirl; you were enraptured by the beauty of it all. Despite that, there was a hollow ache in your chest that never seemed to subside. It pricked at you when you were admiring Ophelia at the museum, or surrounded by stunning elegance of the Blue Mosque, or even when you were sitting with a group of people laughing and chatting. You even volunteered in some places, more to keep yourself busy than necessity. You were comfortable with your everyday life, maybe even happy, but your heart yearned for something more.

The days turned to weeks turned to months. In the blink of an eye, six months passed by. Maybe it was the wariness from long days of travel or simple stupidity on your part, but you grew complacent about safety when you were walking back to your hotel one night and were attacked.

The man tried to grab your purse, you put up a fight, and he started kicking you when suddenly a large dog came out of nowhere and jumped up at him. You stumbled onto the ground, dazed, watching after the robber while he fled. You glanced at the dog. Seconds ago he was a growling predator and now he was sniffing your feet. He only had one eye and was ugly as hell but the damn mutt had just saved your life so the least you could do was feed him. As if reading your mind, the beast followed you back to your hotel.

A month after that night, you started the paperwork required to adopt the animal. It was a difficult and expensive process, and for the first time in recent weeks you started worrying about finances. The money you’d allocated for the trip had been carefully budgeted, but spending so much on vet bills and administrative costs wasn’t something you had accounted for.  

A week ago your bank balance was half of where it should have been before the beast came into your life. Tonight, your balance had been restored to its original amount. Someone had deposited a lot of money, and you knew exactly who it was.

Billy. The missing piece of your soul. Yet you hadn’t reached out to him in months, your fear stronger than your desire. But there was no way you could ignore this kind gesture.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you dialed Billy’s number. There was a seven hour difference between your time zone and his. You were disappointed when he didn’t pick up, he was probably at work, you consoled yourself with the idea that this was probably for the best.

Later that night you were in bed with the beast sleeping on the floor when the phone rang. You picked it up haphazardly, half-asleep. “Hmm?” you mumbled.

“You called?”

Billy’s voice was a sudden jolt to your system, knocking you awake. Anxiety surged through you. You felt shy all of a sudden, almost embarrassed to speak to him. “Hi.”

There was a pause on his end. “Hi.”

“You deposited money into my account.”

“I did.”

“Thanks.” You bit down on your bottom lip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“I guess this means you have someone keeping track of my account?”

His tone took on a defensive edge. “I have to, don’t I? Not like you’d call me when you need something.”

The silence was palpable, filled with tension. It saddened you, knowing there was a time the two of you could talk for hours on end and now you could barely exchange a word with civility.

Minutes passed, the stillness grew. Yet you didn’t hang up, neither did he, the sound of your breaths supplementing the static in the call.

Billy was the first to break the silence. “I went on a date.”

It was the last thing you wanted to hear. His words were so rage inducing you wanted to scream, to stomp on your phone over and over again. You reminded yourself there was nothing wrong with what he was doing, he had every right to see other people. You hadn’t even promised to come back to New York. For all intents and purposes the two of you were done, but-

-but there was that potent jealousy rushing through your fucking nerves, ready to destroy Billy and his other bitch. “Fuck you!”

He sounded smug when he spoke next, even happy. “She reminded me of you, so I asked her out.” Billy was needling you on purpose. “Wanna know how it went?”

“You fucked her,” you seethed, gritting your teeth.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise considering he was acting so smug mere seconds ago. “Because I didn’t want her. I wanted to want her, but I fucking didn’t.”

“Because I’ve never been your type.”

“Because she wasn’t you.”

Billy had never been one to wax poetic about love or romance, but it was these rare moments when he was completely earnest that made your heart melt.

“You’re the only fucking woman I want.”

“I miss you.” You hadn’t intended to say it, not to him. Because admitting that meant exposing yourself, opening up your heart again, to him. Having hope when you should have known better. But now those carefully guarded emotions were out there and you couldn’t pretend they weren’t.

His voice was hoarse, ensconced in pain. “Say it again.”

You took a deep breath. “I miss you.”

“You sound fucking terrified.”

“Because I am.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” you confessed.

There was a pregnant pause. “You’ll come back to me?”

There was that question again. The answer he wanted meant trusting him and risk getting your heart broken again, something you were still terrified of a few months ago when he’d asked you at the airport.

The fear was still there, that was undeniable, but there was also something else that was just as intense – hope, and a desire to make things work that hadn’t existed before. “Yes.”

“For good.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Filled with so much joy and relief and pure happiness, the strain gone.  “When?”

“Not yet,” you answered. “But soon.”

“I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But I need something from you, babe.” With no need to restrain himself any longer his voice grew velvety, reverberating with sexual energy. “I need to see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Immediately your body responded to his words, aching to have his mouth between your legs and going down on you. “Billy-”

“I get so hard just thinking of you. And I’ll probably get too excited when I see your sweet wet cunt but I need to, sweetheart, I need to look at you and taste you and smell you.  I want to be inside you so badly… fuck… see you take my cock in, feel you squeeze me so tight…”

You moaned, you couldn’t help it, and so did he – the sound of his guttural groan so hot and sexy it instantly drove you wild.

Oh god. You could hear him, the throaty growls of pleasure from him jerking off to your voice. He was a vocal man during sex, always had been. And you fucking loved it. You missed it. You missed him.

And it was a huge relief to finally give yourself permission to admit that. Yeah he hurt you badly, and you did what you always did and hurt him back. Despite all that there were real feelings there, a true bond that connected the two of you intimately. No doubt you could be content without him but with him you could be happy. There was so much joy and wonder in the world and you wanted to share that with him.

“You have any idea what you fucking do to me?” he rasped.

“No. Tell me.”

There was a slight pause on his end, like your words took him by surprise. “You’re a goddamn tease, sugar.”

You smiled. “But you like that, don’t you? You like it when I’m on top and in full control. When I’m grinding down on your cock, Billy, teasing you with my pussy-”

There was that groan again, a raw sound of pleasure and frustration that hit just right.

“You remember the first time we had sex, Billy?”

“In the alley next to Piatti’s.”

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t our first time.”

“I remember it like it happened yesterday. I crashed your date with Roger and you were pissed at me.”

“It wasn’t a date-” You stopped yourself, refusing to argue with him about this. “It was the night you took me to the ballet.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“It was before the gala.”

“So?”

“I didn’t know the real you then.”

That was the thing with Billy. One minute he would frustrate you so much and the next he would say something so tender that you fell in love all over again. “It still counts,” you murmured.

“It doesn’t.”

“It was like our third or fourth date, I figured it was time we slept together. I was more nervous than excited-”

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered sarcastically.

“We went to the ballet but I couldn’t figure out why you even took me there. You looked so bored during it.”

“I hated that shit, thought you’d be into it.”

“Liar. You took all your dates there, I checked your credit card transactions the next morning.”

“Oh, that’s when you started hacking into my shit?”

You chuckled. “Wasn’t planning to. Just didn’t expect the sex to be so great.”

“Yeah?” You could practically see the arrogant grin on his face. “I got you all cock-crazy, huh?”

“Something like that.” You bit down on your lip, recalling the memories so clearly in your mind. Before then no guy had ever made you come, and Billy had done it multiple times that night. He had blown your mind in every way imaginable, marking the beginning of your obsession with him.

“Is that why you fell for me? ‘cause I fucked you good?”

While a ‘yes’ would’ve been an ego boost, you also saw through the façade of his seemingly casual tone. He wouldn’t like the foundation of your relationship to be a sexual one. Besides, it wasn’t true. “No, it was when I realized how alike you and I were. There was a side you showed to the world, then there was the real you, and they were polar opposites. I used to think I was the only one who acted that way.”

“You saw me for who I really was.”

You nodded your head instinctively. “Yeah.”

“And I saw you. I knew I was fucked from that night of the gala.”

“Bullshit,” you retorted.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“You didn’t like me until way after.”

“Wrong,” he countered dryly. “That night was definitely the first time I caught feelings. And then every day after that I got sucked in more and more. Every time I thought I had you all figured out you surprised me. And I fell harder every time.”

You didn’t speak, simply digesting his words.

“My mother’s funeral, you remember that?” he prodded.

“Yeah.”

“I was all kinds of messed up that day and you were there for me, you didn’t leave. I thought that was it, you know. How I felt that day, that would be the extent of it. I was already head over heels. It couldn’t get more serious than that. Then I found you with Adam Preston.” A soft chuckle escaped him. “I had no fucking idea what I was in for.”

“You had your chance to leave. I told you not to get involved.”

Billy snickered. “Like I was gonna walk away after that.”

You pondered how major milestones in your relationship were built on a path of blood and violence. Adam. Roger. Even fucking Krista. Destroying them was what propelled the two of you closer. Would it always be like that? Or would you both grow out of it?

“What are you thinking about?” he probed.

“A normal life. You think that’s possible for us?”

“Is that what you want?”

You turned to your side. “I want you.”

There was a long bout of silence that followed. “Haven’t heard that from you in a long time,” Billy said.

“I know.”

“You left, Y/N. It’s been months!” His voice took on a harsh edge. “I haven’t seen you, haven’t talked to you. You have any idea what it’s been like without you? You’re out there living your goddamn life and I can’t even fucking breathe without you! Do you give a fuck about that?”

You reminded yourself to be patient. “I get that you’re pissed off-”

“You’re goddamn right I am!”

“But I’m not going to fucking apologize, Billy.”   You stayed calm, refusing to let him rile you up. “I needed space, away from you, away from New York, away from everything that happened in the last few years.” You exhaled a deep sigh. “It’s been peaceful. I’m content. I’ve done things and travelled to places I never thought I’d get a chance to. And you know what doing that made me realize?” Your tone softened. “That I want to be with you. Billy, you make me happy.”

It was impossible to know but you sensed him trembling, as if your confession had expelled a rush of relief over him. He didn’t speak for a long time. Neither did you.

“When you come home to me, it’ll be for good. I’m never letting you go,” he declared.

“I know.”

There was a lull in the conversation again, a comfortable one this time.

“So? What’s been the best thing you’ve seen so far?” Billy asked. “What’s the shittiest?”

You smiled fondly, getting ready to tell him about your adventures.

***

Two Months Later

The elevator doors opened right into Billy’s apartment. You entered his place, greeted by the sleek, sparse aesthetic of the place. His design preferences clashed with yours and that hadn’t changed. The beast was next to you, tugging at his leash as he was eager to discover his new surroundings. You dropped your overnight bag on the ground before undoing his leash.

Sonia had given you the code to Billy’s apartment but had warned you that he wasn’t expected home for a few days. You weren’t supposed to be back in New York for at least a few more weeks, but you were feeling homesick and both you and the beast were exhausted so you decided to return early. Unfortunately your plan to surprise Billy didn’t work out as expected as he was off somewhere doing recon work for a lucrative client along with Frank and some other team members.

You had landed yesterday and gone straight to Davina’s, spending it resting and catching up with your best friend. Still, you were exhausted and the beast was acting up – maybe it was a good thing Billy wasn’t here. But that didn’t stop you from being utterly disappointed at missing him. Over the past few months you and he spoke practically every day despite the time differences, and the connection between you had grown stronger, more intense. The need to see him was overwhelming, the desire to touch him so desperate that you dreamt about him every day.

The beast ran around while you took a tour of the penthouse suite, familiarizing yourself with Billy’s new home. You rummaged through his closet, running your fingers through his clothes, admiring his wardrobe. You always loved how much pride he took in dressing well, and he was just as appreciative about your efforts.

Your attention was drawn to the watches laid out in a bougie cabinet that was new to you. The vintage Rolex you’d gifted him for your second anniversary was prominently displayed, a centerpiece amongst his collection. A part of you had worried that Billy had sold the piece after the divorce but that didn’t appear to be the case. You opened the bottom drawer and found a familiar velvet jewelry box in there.

“Next time I see you I’m putting this back on your finger whether you want it or not.”

Billy’s words echoed in your mind like it was yesterday. Your stomach fluttered when you opened the box to find your engagement ring and wedding band in there. Smiling, you slid them onto your finger. The fit was a little snug, you had gained a few pounds during the trip, but the rings still looked beautiful on your hand.  

You noted the empty side of the walk-in closet, along with a large built-in cabinet designed specifically for shoes. This was meant for you, no doubt, and it made you feel soft and warm inside.

Home. That was what Billy was to you, and it felt right.

***

Billy dried himself with a towel before getting dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. All the while the mutt simply watched him, idly chewing on a recent pair of shoes Billy had bought. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he could get another pair. When he’d come home sooner than expected, the last thing he’d expected to find was you sleeping on the couch and a giant monster snoring on the floor beside you. The dog eventually woke up while he took a shower and now there they were, playing a game of who could stare at each other the longest.

Billy knelt down to meet the mutt at eye-level. “You know she’s mine, right? You can’t have her.”

The dumb dog stared back with its one eye, wearing an insolent expression, and then it yawned, completely unfazed by the warning. Billy pet the dog’s head before standing up and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.

You were still sleeping soundly on the couch. Dressed in one of his t-shirts, the hem twisted around your hips, your gorgeous legs were naked and begging to be touched. And then there was the flash of your black lace panties. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and downed the whole thing before taking a seat next to you.  

It was almost eight months since he saw you last, since he touched you. His fingers wrapped around your bare calf and squeezed lightly. You moaned a little, the sound turning him on even more. Billy told himself to be patient but all rational thoughts left his head when you shifted and the t-shirt rose even higher. Mesmerized, his hand travelled up your thigh, dancing along your soft, supple skin, sneaking higher and higher until his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your panties and he pulled the fabric down the length of your legs. Yeah he wanted to fuck you senseless, but more than that he just wanted to hold you and revere you.  

And so he did, with his gaze, inhaling you in.

Your beautiful body, your pretty pussy, your glorious tits.

He committed every inch of your sweet cunt to his brain, inhaling you in. He didn’t even have to touch you for you to get wet, you were turned on already when he bent down to kiss your delicate skin. You trembled against him, your body quivered. You weren’t fully awake yet, your eyes still closed, but your breathed out a moan when he swiped his tongue along your folds.

God, he missed you. Your scent, your taste.

Pushing your t-shirt up above your chest, he sunk his face into the soft curves of your stomach, his tongue delving into your belly button. Your hip arched up, causing his face to smash against your skin. He chuckled, continuing to lick his way up your body until he came to your breasts.

Fuck.

The sheer hotness of your breasts stole his breath. They were bigger than he remembered, softer, as he cupped them together. Your puffy nipples stared back at him defiantly, daring him to fuck them, and he couldn’t stop himself anymore. His mouth dragged over the hardened nubs, going back and forth between, sucking on them like a man dying for water.

You were awake now, your moans growing louder, your body writhing under him while your legs tightened around his waist.

“Billy…”

Your voice. It was the only thing that could draw him back from the brink of madness he was in. Pulling his mouth away from your right nipple, he finally met your gaze. And the expression on your face melted his heart.

Overwhelmed with feelings that rushed through him, he stared at you blankly. He couldn’t think.

You were here. You came back to him.

You were his.

The emotions on your face, the way your eyes lit up so brightly - it made his insides ache.

For months he was a dead man walking, going through life without any hope or excitement. He’d always known losing you would ruin him but even he couldn’t have predicted how alone and hopeless it would feel without you. The ambitious drive in him dissipated, because what was the fucking point of money if he couldn’t spend it with you. The first month after you left all he did was get wasted. Alcohol was supposed to numb the pain but it didn’t. After weeks of fucking around Frank and Curtis had enough and ordered him back to work. Sick of the fights and waking up with hangovers, he decided work would be a better distraction. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with Frank bitching at him.

Shortly after that you guys started talking, and the world came alive for him. Life was beautiful again, and he had a reason to wake up every morning. His drive to make Anvil an industry leader returned with a vengeance along with the desire to destroy anyone who stood in his way. All because of you.

Your index finger traced the scars on his face, your every touch a thorough reminder of how much you meant to him.

And then he saw the rings around your finger.

The engagement ring he’d scoured for months before he finally found the right one. The wedding bands you guys exchanged. His own was destroyed when his fucking world fell apart, but he’d held onto yours, resolute in his determination to put them on you again.

And now you were wearing them, on your own, without any kind of cajoling from him.

Because you were ready to be his finally.

Every night he pondered what he’d say when he saw you again. In his imagination he was a fucking poet, ready to impress with heartfelt declarations about how much you meant to him. Except now when you were actually in front of him, he was speechless. The only thing running through his head was fear. Fear that this was just a fucking dream. And instead of coming at you from a place of love, it was his fucking insecurity that drove his words.

“You’re never leaving me again.”

He expected you to be irritated or angry by his threat, instead you sent him an affectionate smile. Your hand brushed through his hair strands in a placating gesture. “Don’t be an asshole again.”

Heart full, he fisted the back of your head and pulled you close.

A heartbeat, that’s all it fucking took for the both of you to lose control. Your mouth closed over his, and he gave into the fucking whirlwind of craziness only you made him feel.

***

You felt Billy slide onto the couch behind you, scooting closer so he could resume touching you. As his hand trailed down your back, your body tingled again with excitement. He’d fucked you multiple times yet the two of you couldn’t get enough, your body wasn’t sated despite being utterly exhausted. Even now when you were in the brink of sleep, his close proximity was playing havoc with your thoughts, especially when you felt him caressing your ass. The weight you had gained during your vacation seemed to have gone to your butt, and apparently Billy loved it.

He dropped playful kisses on both cheeks, squeezing one and then the other with his palm.

“You were never an ass man before,” you remarked lazily, yawning.

“Yeah, but this ass is fucking piece of art.” The playful tap he gave your cheeks made you giggle. “And so is the rest of this gorgeous body.” His tongue trailed a path up. “Like the small of your back.” His beard scratched your skin as his mouth followed up the length of your spine. “And your spine.”

You chuckled. “Spine too?”

More kisses peppered the back of your neck before he turned you around. “And these shoulders… this neck…” His face sunk into your chest as he cupped your breasts together.

“Nothing to say about my boobs?” you teased.

“Hmm…”

Already mesmerized, his fingers danced across your nipples.

As he stared at your breasts, you stared at him, studying him. He was on his side, balanced on his elbow, and looked so deliriously happy that it made your heart explode. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long time, years actually. Before you left he was always agitated and in a constant state of turmoil, but now there was a look of contentment on his face, a calmness in him that was only present before the accident.

“Checking me out?” he teased, winking at you.                    

“Always.” You smiled, reaching up to palm his face. “You look happy.”

He placed a tender kiss on the flesh of your palm. “Cause you’re here.” He kissed your wedding band. “Back with me, where you belong.” Closing his eyes, he stilled for a few seconds. “I can breathe again.”

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, like it always did when he regarded you with so much love and tenderness. “I didn’t think we’d ever be like this again. I was ready to walk away forever.”

His gaze darkened, like the thought of you even verbalizing those words angered him. “You’re mine. And if you think I’m gonna let you--”

You placed your palm over his mouth to shut him up. “I’m here for good.”

Billy didn’t respond, his piercing eyes holding you hostage. Sensing his anxiety, you pulled him close to your chest so his head was pressed in the crook of your neck. With his body settled atop, the two of you clung to each other in a tight embrace for a long while. “I have a gift for you. It’s in the other room.”

“Yeah,” he replied in a wry tone. “I met the gift. It was eating my shoes.”

You chuckled. “He has good taste.”

“It can’t live with us, babe.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m moving in.”

“Bold of you to think you have a choice.”

You smiled, languidly playing with his hair. “I’m not moving in without the beast. He goes where I go.”

“Beast? That’s what you named him?”

“No, he has an actual name. He just won’t respond to it.”

“What is it?”

“Ludacris.”

“Like the rapper?”

“Yeah, I like his music.”

Billy snickered. “No wonder he likes beast better.” He pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You’re not allowed to love that mutt more than me,” he drawled, his tone unconcerned and lazy.

“Even though he saved my life?” you teased.

“Even then.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I need to go walk him.”

“No,” Billy groaned, burrowing his head into your chest so his facial hair tickled you.

“Stop!” you giggled.

“Can’t go,” he insisted, ticking you harder. “Not gonna let you.”

Your squealing must have woken up the beast because he came running into the room. Except instead of attacking Billy, he started licking him, especially when Billy started scratching his sweet spot. You watched the two of them bond, and your heart swelled with happiness. Dogs weren’t exactly Billy’s thing and you expected him to protest against keeping him, but there he was, playing with him.

“I need to get food for this one,” you said, sitting up.

Billy turned back to look at you. “I bought some a few weeks ago. Wasn’t sure what he’d like so I got a few different kinds.”

Your smile grew soft. Some of your conversations with Billy in the past month did involve the beast but you’d never mentioned you were planning to bring him home. Obviously he recognized you wouldn’t be leaving the dog behind.

You pushed yourself off the couch when he grabbed your hand.

“I’ll take Beast for a walk,” Billy offered. “You get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Good. ‘cause I’m not done with that ass yet.”

You laughed, reaching down to give him a kiss.

***

A while after you took a shower and put a slip on, you sifted through your overnight bag to retrieve your gift for him. When you sauntered into the kitchen, you found Beast on the floor, wolfing down his food, while Billy made grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove. It smelled delicious and your stomach growled in hunger. Smiling, you crept up and hugged him from behind. “Have something for you.”

His free hand snaked around your waist to grab your ass. “Besides this?” He turned off the stove before turning around in your arms. “Why the fuck are you dressed?”

“Because I’m hungry.” Retreating until your back hit the cabinet, you jumped up to sit on the counter. You set his gift behind your back, smiling at him.

He plated the sandwich and handed it to you before making a quick stop at the fridge to grab himself and you a beer. Your cooking skills had somehow grown worse, but his seemed to have excelled, especially his version of a grilled-cheese sandwich. Pleased that he remembered this was one of your favourite late-night snacks, you happily bit into the sandwich while he drank his beer and watched you eat. There were many a nights like this during your marriage, where you’d be sharing a bottle of wine or drinks in the kitchen, Billy cooking, you perched up on the counter and keeping him company. It felt like home, being here, even though it was a new place, and everything was so different, and Beast was making a ruckus in one corner of the kitchen.

Billy’s eyes were fixated on you as he took a sip of the beer, his gaze trailing from your lips to your breasts, down the length of your body before drifting up to your face again. “You don’t need clothes to eat,” he finally responded, eyes darkening again.

“So you want me to sit here, naked, just ready to do your bidding?” you taunted. You straightened your leg to reach across and touch Billy’s groin, teasing your foot along the fabric of his jeans.

Molten eyes burned with intensity, his gaze bore into you.  

He was hard, you felt it, could see it, wet heat pooling between your legs at the sexual magnetism vibrating off of him right now.

“Take off your goddamn clothes, sweetheart.”

You smirked, setting the empty plate aside. A few months ago, you would have hesitated to get naked in front of him. The deterioration of your relationship had left you emotionally scarred, broken, and too insecure to let yourself be vulnerable with him. But now, you felt strong and healthy. Like yourself, though even more powerful.  And so, despite the additional pounds you gained that once would have made you shirk and cringe, you took off your top and threw it aside. No bra, no intentional maneuvering to highlight your assets and minimize your flaws. None of that. You were simply naked and exposed in front of the only man who could break you. Except he was admiring you in all your glory, sheer desire on his face, his eyes glazing over at your full breasts.

“Come here, Billy.”

That seemed to snap him out of his daze. He closed the distance instantly, pulling your legs forward to wrap them around his thighs. All thoughts of provoking him left your brain as his mouth closed over yours, ravaging you, while you pulled at his clothes to undress him.  

And soon he was thrusting inside of you, pounding you on the counter as your moans filled the room.

You forgot how utterly emotional and transfixing it was to have Billy inside of you. Your walls clenched around his cock while he thrust hard, every part of your body inhabited by him so that there was no you or him, just one body linked together while the two of you fucked each other into oblivion.

Your nails clawed his back, his teeth sunk into your shoulder, wounds marking each other’s bodies with reminders of what the two of you meant to each other. Pain and pleasure, forever entwined.

The harder he fucked you, the more vocal you became. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew Beast was barking loudly but you were too entrenched in Billy to pay any attention to reality. It was only after you reached your frenzied climax that Beast’s howls finally registered.

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed at Beast, breathless and panting, still perched on the counter, your body limber and fluid in Billy’s grip.

“No, absolutely fucking not,” Billy muttered, his head buried in your neck. “You only call me baby. No one else.”

“You can’t be jealous over a dog.”

“Can’t I?”

You chuckled, amused, and then murmured sweet terms of affections to cajole him.

It took a while for your hearts to return to normal pace, both of you spent, his body weight pressed onto you while you clung to him. Still a bit dazed, you dropped a kiss on his temple. “We can’t fuck in front of Beast.”

Billy shifted slightly to look at the dog, who was staring back with a hungry expression even though he just ate. “He needs to get used to this.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” you mused. “Having sex in front of a dog?”

“We fucked at a sex club in front of an audience. This is fine.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was different.”

“Yeah, the dog can’t talk.”

Smiling, you pulled on his earlobe. “Jerk.”

“Still waiting for my gift, babe.”

You twisted around to see where it had shifted to. Snuggled behind the bottle of olive oil, you retrieved the sachet.

“What is it?” Billy asked, eyeing the small bag.

You loosened the opening and dropped the ring on your palm.

Billy’s wedding band, a brilliant silver band that matched your own, had to be cut from his fingers before the life-saving operation he received. Since the two of you reconnected over the phone he’d mentioned how much the loss of it troubled him. While the two of you were certainly not ready for marriage, you still wanted to give him something that showed how far you’d come. It took you a while to find the perfect ring, in the end it was a two-toned black titanium ring in a jewelry shop in Turkey that captured your attention. The design was a black ring, contrasted with a silver bevelled edge, representing the history you shared and the future that was to come. Although it certainly wasn’t as expensive as the original, you liked its sleek, sexy design and you hoped Billy would too.

“You like it?” you asked hesitantly, feeling suddenly nervous. You reminded yourself the ring didn’t have to symbolize anything. It could just be a gift, if that’s what Billy wanted, and not mean anything. “If you don’t, it’s okay.”

He picked it up, his face devoid of emotion. “You proposing?”

“No, it’s just a gift.”

His gaze shifted to focus on you. “I want a fucking proposal, sugar.”

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “It’s too soon. We’re not even fully back together.”

Eyebrow quirked up, he leveled you with a heated stare. “You’re not getting out of this.” He removed your wedding band and handed back the ring you gifted him. “We’re gonna put these on each other.” And he did just that, sliding the wedding band back onto your finger. “Your turn.” He splayed his hand in front of you.

Smiling, you took his hand and caressed his palm. His fingers trembled, surprising you, and you looked up to meet his eyes. The gravity of emotions in them made your heart flutter. Swallowing the unexpected lump in your throat, you slid the band onto his left ring finger.

Interlacing his fingers through yours, he pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Nothing ever comes between us.”

Just then Beast barked, as if offended by the words, and you burst into laughter. “Think he feels left out?”

“That’s his problem.”

You chuckled, turning your attention back to Billy. “You love him already. Admit it.”

He shook his head ‘no’. “I’ll tolerate him for you.” His lips grazed your forehead. “Because I love you.”

For the first time since the accident, those words didn’t incite anger or disbelief or any insecurity in you. Instead, you believed him wholeheartedly and felt it with every fiber in your being. “I love you too, Billy.”

“You haven’t said that in a long time.”

“I couldn’t. Not until now.”

His eyes glimmered with hope, with love, with all kinds of emotions that made your heart want to explode. “I’m never letting you go, babe.”

Overwhelmed with feelings, your eyes watered. This was the man you loved - insanely jealous and madly possessive, invading your entire life and crushing through every walls you’d built around your heart. The same man who bought groceries because you hated doing it, took space out of his beloved closet so it could hold your precious shoes, and was now even willing to take care of your dog even though he didn’t like animals.

Billy loved you, protected you. Killed for you. And you did the same for him.

What the two of you shared wasn’t normal or healthy. Loving each other didn’t make you better people, but it gave you both purpose, a reason to fight for something more substantial than simply survival. You filled each other’s lives with hope and happiness, a rarity for the both of you.

Cradling his face, you kissed him gently. Even after everything, you found your way back to each other.

That was never going to change, and you had no regrets.

He was yours. You were his.

Forever.

The End.

*

*

*

A/N - Thank you to all those who stuck around and to those who recently discovered the fic. I can’t believe I finished them both - lol - but I was so genuinely attached to Billy/Reader that I couldn’t let them go. But it’s time now, I think.

Billy and Reader will always have a complicated relationship, but they have each other’s back and will never feel as strongly about anyone else as they do each other. I sincerely believe that and I hope the writing showed that as well.

There are some scenes deliberately vague or I’ve glossed over, mostly because it allows me to delve into them in the future if I choose :)

Anyway, thank you again. I really appreciate and am grateful to every one of you.

If you’d be so inclined, I’d love to read any comments you want to share :)

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Jealousy, Jealousy || D. Targaryen x oc

GIF by @anyataylorjoy DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: Rhaenyra Targaryen was known as the Realm’s delight, but her best friend Elys? She was given the name as the Realm’s desire. A story full of jealousy and envy; what happens when Elys takes the one thing away from Rhaenyra?

a/n: im so sorry this took so long to be updated but here it is! also a scene is inspired by euphoria and the whole nate cassie and maddy thing!

P.t 1 P.t 2 P.t 3 P.t 4 P.t 5

previous

Rhaenyra furrowed her eyebrows as she stares at her best friend who just entered the room. Flinching, Elys places her hand on her chest as she steadies her breathing, she had not been expecting her in her room.

In a slightly disheveled state, Elys awkwardly smiles at her as she lets her hair loose from its previous hairstyle. “What are you doing here Rhae? You should have mentioned you were going to visit me” She announced, getting rid of her jewelry.

“Did you forget? it’s Friday” Rhaenyra replies, emphasising the word Friday. It was a tradition for the two of them to sneak to Fleabottom and wonder around. Elys pauses her actions, looking at her through the mirror. Taking in her silence, Rhaenyra stands up and walks towards Elys.

Placing her hands on her shoulders she sighs, “Have you been okay recently Elys? You’re always disappearing and you’ve barely spoken to me, god knows what you’ve been up to” She points out. Fucking your uncle, Elys thought.

Ever since Daemon asked her to meet him in his bed chambers, the two were well acquaintances. Fucking each other at any chance they could, even if Rhaenyra was close by. Elys found it thrilling.

“I’m fine, Rhaenyra, I promise” Elys smiled at her before turning around to face her, “Now, it’s never to late to go to Fleabottom is it?” She cheekily grinned as Rhaenyra reciprocates it.

~

“I think I need to tell her,” Elys sighed, her cheek flushed on Daemon’s naked chest. “Tell who what, pretty girl?” His voice was soft as his hands toyed with her brunette locks. “Rhaenyra. My best friend. Your niece. About what we’ve done” Elys confesses, tilting her head up to look at him.

He doesn’t answer for awhile. “Don’t tell her” his voice cuts the silence, Elys slowly sat up, now straddling Daemon. “Why not? She will find out eventually” She fiddled with her fingers before he takes her hands in his.

“Exactly. Eventually. Not now, I enjoy being with you, you know? I want to spend as much time with you as I can before she finds out eventually” His words made Elys soft. She shyly smiles before leaning down and placing gentle kissed along his jawline making him squeeze her thighs.

“God I can’t get enough you” He moans, grabbing her waist and manhandling Elys on her back so that he was hovering over her. The two look deeply into each other’s eyes, “Neither can I” Elys whispers before Daemon returns his assault on her lips.

~

“I wish I could run away with him,” Rhaenyra said, breaking the comfortable silence as the two watch Daemon patting Caraxes. “Why? And leave me here with boring lords and ladies?” Elys joked, nudging her best friend.

Rhaenyra scoffs, “Well those boring lords and ladies adore you Elys. Besides, It would be nice if it was just Daemon and I in Dragonstone” She smiled to herself.

Elys felt her heart drop, the guilt of what she was doing behind Rhaenyra’s back was slowly sinking in. “Do you like him that much?” She asked as the Princess looks to her.

“Very much so. With Daemon, it feels like- you know what it’s probably silly to say it” Elys furrows her eyebrows shaking her head, “It wouldn’t be silly Rhaenyra” “As wrong as it would be, I wish to run away with him and marry him. We understand each other and he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. It’s refreshing really” She grins.

Elys takes in her words. “You love him don’t you?” She questions, hiding her guilt. Rhaenyra only smiles and looks away, she had her answer.

~

The rest of the afternoon Elys spent in her bedchambers, sulking in guilt. It was her own fault for doing something like this behind Rhaenyra’s back. She decided that tonight she would end whatever the fuck was between Daemon and her and tell Rhaenyra. There was a celebration being held that night, it was the perfect chance to confront Rhaenyra.

“This will be a good night, I can feel it” Rhaenyra squeezes Elys’ hand as they walk into The Great Hall. Elys tightly smiles at her before the two sit down at the royal table. Being Rhaenyra’s close friend had its’ perks.

As King Viserys’ was doing his speech, he was interrupted by Daemon walking in. Elys practically held her breath as sauntered his way to the table, a small but noticeable smirk on his face.

He sat at the edge of the table, his eyes never leaving Elys as she didn’t dare to look at him. Rhaenyra looks between the two and doesn’t think much of it.

As the night progressed and people were dancing and had one too many drinks, Elys took the opportunity to whisper discreetly to Daemon to meet him in his room.

The second Elys shut the door behind her, Daemon pulls her towards him to press kisses along her exposed collarbone. “Daemon-“ She started, “Shhh” He hushed her as a moan escaped her lips. This was not going as planned she thought.

The pleasure he was giving her was too great to end it now so she thought this would be the final time before she was going to break it off. Elys wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him even more close.

“You smell so good” He groaned in her neck as his hands made their way to her back to undo the laces. He barely got her dress off before he took her leg and wrapped it around his waist.

Aggressively pushing her up against the door, he started sucking her tits making Elys throw her head back, moaning at the sensation. He slid into her making them let out moans, as soon as she adjusted to his size, he started pumping into her at an inhumane speed.

“Oh my- fuck!” She screamed, not caring if someone heard her if they were to walk past. “You feel so good” He grunts into her ear as a smiled makes it to her lips. A sudden knock at the door made Elys gasp, Daemon immediately shutting her up by placing his hand on her mouth.

Elys stared wide eyed at him as Daemon shouted, “Who is it!” “It’s me uncle,” The sound of Rhaenyra voice made Elys panic. “Shit” Daemon mutters, “Just a second!” He shouts again as Elys tries to tidy herself but her dress was tangled.

“Daemon help me!” She urged silently as tears were brimming her eye, he quickly helped her and took her face in his hands. “Don’t cry” He hushed, wiping her tears as she covered her mouth, sobbing. “She’s my best friend, she’ll kill me!” Elys continued as Daemon pulls her to his chest.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra knocked again making Elys flinch, He looked around the room to look for places to hide her. He quickly pulled her behind the panel divider, “Everything’s going to be okay, just wait here” He says as Elys nods, hot tears still streaming down her face.

She felt like the worse person in the entire world. Daemon’s eyes soften as he kisses her wet cheeks and walks to the door. “Uncle-“ Rhaenyra paused as she studied his appearance, a frown on her lips. “Was I interrupting something?” She awkwardly says as Daemon glances behind him, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

As soon as Elys heard the door close and their voice’s becoming faint, she slowly walks to the bed and lays there for quite some time. This was definitely not how she imagined things would go.

next

~

taglist

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[vivakitkt]

I love you, why can’t you love me?

Synopsis: You love Xiao. But how will it take for him to notice you? Then a chance to end your feelings for him. To relieve yourself from the pain. Do you take it?

Warnings: angst/ maybe comfort, !hanahaki reader, reader is implied as adepti(immortal, etc), not proofread

A/N So I wrote this at 11pm on new years eve yes i dont sleep but yea finally finished this :') first time writing a piece with a specific character in it. One of my longer pieces as well. Might write pt. 2 👀 Hope you enjoy it!!<3333

Part 1(this story is pt 1) Part 2 Part 3

Loving Xiao was hard

He was closed off, only becoming "close" to the few who he could feel as ease with. Although you tried your best, cooking his favorite dish, almond tofu, being nice to him, taking care of his injures even with his stern protests. But it never was supposed to be you was it.

You were waiting for him at Wangshu inn. Trembling from the frigid cold, clenching onto the thin blanket you were keeping around yourself from the breeze.

Dont want to catch a cold, you told yourself. Not to mention already that you were feeling a little sick in your throat, coughing up more frequently than usual.

It was getting pretty late, you wondered, where could he be?

His food would be getting cold soon and plus it wasn't like him to stay this late without sending you a message. You couldn't even feel his presence around the area.

Should you go and try to find him? Yea. Maybe you should. You know, just to make sure he was okay. As you quickly turned into a puff of smoke, leaving your previous spot into the sky. Soaring through the clouds, you finally spotted the green flash of his teleportation.

As you started to drift down onto solid ground, a few feet away from Xiao, you noticed another person with him.

Huh? Was that the traveler? What was Xiao doing with them? You questioned while staying behind a tree to hide yourself. Xiao was probably just helping them out! Of course he was, the travelers was a nice person anyways. Its not like Xiao had feelings for them or something. Right?

But why was he blushing like that? And smiling like that? You've never seen him like that before despite knowing him for centuries. Did he actually have feelings for the traveler?

I mean, of course who wouldn't? With their courageous personality, outgoing self, and impressive battles. And to top it off, they were good looking. Who wouldn't like the traveler?

It made no sense at all to hate them. You were just being dramatic. All of sudden you started to cough, hard. So you quickly took a step back and disappeared again into a cloud of smoke.

The very next day, you were feeling uneasy. Maybe it was because of the events that took place but also because of that cough that almost gave you away. So you decide to have some tea with Zhongli, to ask him some questions and to chat of course!

Heading over to Liyue Habor to meet with him, you couldn't help but notice the lack of flowers around the area. Although Liyue had beautiful mountains and incredible sunset views, there wasnt a lot of flowers around. A few in the habor but none except for the sweet flowers you saw. Maybe you should talk about it to Xiao or Zhongli.

Finally you arrived and quickly saw the ex-archon with the funeral director Hu Tao.

Ah y/n, what a pleasure, Zhongli spoke, what brings you here?

Oh is this a friend of yours Mr. Zhongli? Hu tao teased, I guess I'll see you later then! She waved goodbye, leaving you and Zhongli both alone

Shall we go for tea? You asked the calm man

As you two made it to a table, you set out the tea and poured some of the rich tea into the porcelain cups.

For you and Zhongli, it was easy for you two to start a conversation. After all you had been with him very early on since he started his archon days. Even being with him when he took Xiao in as his own. However, your peaceful conversation suddenly took a turn as you started to cough hard once again like last night. But this time blood and...flowers dropped out of your mouth.

Y/n! Zhongli shouted, Someone send a doctor! As you closed eyes from the unbearable pain.

You woke up in a bed as you started wrinkle the sheet and proped yourself up with your elbows. What happened? Huh? A sheet of paper writtern, hanahaki disease. As soon as you read that, a doctor entered the room along with Zhongli. The doctor then slowly told you of your disease. A disease where a person who feels unrequited love, will cough up flowers. The only two end results of this disease would either be that the other person returns the feeling or......death. One other possible cure was a surgical removal but the victim will forget the feelings held for their beloved.

Forget their feelings? So you would forget about Xiao. All of the years spent with him, the memories, and all of the small moments when he let his wall down. Would be gone at the expense of you living. Should you get the surgery to forget your feelings about him? Or love him till the day you die?

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (16)

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest.If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: feelings? slight timeskip at start of chapter. someone remembers a sex dream. A/N: if you're still reading, thanks for waiting so patiently!!

Word Count: 2k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Gwen stays, and goes. You stay in your own dimension more often, going into the city as Spider and writing for the paper. You find yourself spending even more time with your new friends, Karen, Foggy, and Matt. They don’t say anything about your odd hours or frequent bouts of ‘illness’ when you get a bruise or scrape you can’t easily hide and won’t heal in time for you to make an appearance. You begin to notice that you’re not the only one with odd hours or mysterious injuries—Matt has more and more frequently been appearing with mysterious bruises, stiff movements, and the rare split lip. You’ve caught Karen and Foggy whispering quiet concerned words to him once or twice, hushed voices silenced when they notice you.

Despite these odd occurrences, life continues pleasantly on its way.

“Do you want to go out for breakfast tomorrow,” you whisper quietly one night, raking your fingers through Miguel’s hair and back away from his forehead.

“Tired of my cooking already?” he whispers back, all sleepy half lidded eyes and the corner of his mouth tilted in a smile.

You huff a quiet breath through your nose, amused. “Don’t be dramatic. I just thought you might like to see some of my neighborhood, since I’ve seen some of yours.”

His brows furrow, his mouth opening slightly.

“The headquarters,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t look so concerned. Everyone knows you practically live there.”

He sighs, body relaxing back into the mattress, eyes closing as you continue on with his hair.

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“I have an apartment on the upper floors,” he explains.

You frown slightly. “So you really spend all your time there?”

He smiles again, cracking his eyes open to look at you. The cherry amber red hue of his eyes takes on the rich depth of red velvet cake in the dark, and you smile back.

“What?”

“I’d say I spend plenty of time here too,” he says, and you chuckle. He closes his eyes again. “Breakfast out sounds great.”

“Great,” you repeat, your smile softening.

The next morning when you leave the apartment the air has that liminal just-before-fall and just-after-summer feeling to it. The shade would be just barely too cold if you were any sort of normal human, the sunlight just a bit too warm, and when you look you see that the green leaves on the city trees have just barely started to change.

“We’re a bit behind here,” you say, hands in your pockets to resist the urge to hold Miguel’s hand in your own. You nudge him playfully with your elbow when he looks at you, the furrow of his brow asking you to explain. “Y’know. Our cars still have wheels,” you grin.

Miguel chuffs at that, amused. “Flying cars are overrated. Sure, it creates a whole lot more lanes, but it also creates a whole extra spatial plane to have accidents on–”

You happily listen to him criticize his home dimension, walking along to your favorite nearby spot for breakfast. Happily enough, anyway, given the odd sensation of a far too empty palm.

You struggle to swallow the fluttering down again when you’re sitting across from Miguel at a little table away from the windows, watching him curiously read the menu and then later carefully using the too small silverware that feels just right in your own hands.

You’re out on a rooftop in the late hours of the night, chill air blowing across your suit. It's quiet, the city surprisingly sleepy for one that supposedly never sleeps, and so you’re left with a muddy whirl of thoughts and feelings and no distractions.

You’d be lying if you said you—

“You seem deep in thought.”

The voice pulls your attention away from the hypnotizing whirlpool you’d been staring down into the center of, and back onto dry land. 

“Daredevil,” you greet, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t realize I was back in your kitchen.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “You’re not. It's just over there,” he says and points at the stretch of buildings across the street with his thumb and a little smile. “Noticed you over here and thought I’d say hello, make sure there’s no trouble bringing you this way.” This last part is polite with a hint of concern: he wants to know if he needs to keep an eye out for something suspicious entering his little neighborhood.

You shake your head. “No, just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he nods, and walks closer, all straight lines and friendly air. “Mask, or personal?”

You pause, watching him approach to stand a respectful arm’s length away. You turn away and exhale, crossing your arms loosely, leaning your weight on one leg. “Both.”

Daredevil nods in your periphery, a quiet “Ah” of understanding leaving his mouth. “Someone who knows?”

You nod. “He knows.”

Daredevil pauses, tilts his head to the side in that way he does. “Must be complicated.”

“You have no idea.”

He doesn’t pry, but instead keeps you silent company for the next long moments of night. It's pleasant, really, the quiet company of someone presumably living nearly as strange of a life as yourself.

“I should head home,” you murmur after some time has passed, and he nods.

“You know where to find me, if… well. If you need a hand. Or an ear.” He seems slightly unsure about offering the latter, but there's no doubt in your mind about his commitment to offering the former.

You smile. “Thanks. I’ll swing by again sometime, just in case you need a hand sometime.”

He smiles, gives a short nod, and you swing off into the night.

Peter B. Parker watches Miguel with narrowed eyes across the table. MJ suggested they invite him for dinner again, sans you, for one of the casual nights together they used to have more frequently. But something is off.

Miguel is distracted.

Normally present, somewhat conversational, and at the very least engaged with May, today his mind is somewhere else. He asks MJ to repeat herself not just once but twice, and seems only three-quarters aware of May’s babbling and reaching hands. Peter shares a look with MJ and they separate off into different rooms; her upstairs with the baby, and Peter in the kitchen with Miguel on cleanup.

“So,” he begins, putting away tupperware while Miguel helpfully rinses plates in the sink.

Miguel spares him a glance, eyebrow lifted.

“What’s new?” Peter asks with exaggerated nonchalance.

Miguel’s second glance is bemused. “With what?”

Peter shrugs, crossing his arms and letting his eyes wander around the room lazily. “With, I dunno, whatever.” His eyes snap to Miguel, who is finally focused and slightly suspicious.

“I feel like you are trying to imply something, Peter, and I’m not sure I follow.”

Peter purses his lips slightly, holding back a smile. “You just seem distracted, is all. Something on your mind?”

Miguel shakes his head, turning back to the sink.

Peter sorts through his own thoughts, through the roulette wheel of ways he can needle his friend about his life.

“Someone on your mind?”

Miguel’s shoulders tense, but he continues on with his small helpful task. “Don’t be ridiculous, Peter.”

He’s hit the nail on the head.

“There’s nothing wrong with being happy. With having a life.”

Miguel is silent for just a heartbeat too long. “Whatever you think is going on—”

“Come on, Miguel–”

“Leave it. There’s nothing.”

Peter leaves it. For now.

“How did you meet?” you ask the other Miguel. You know you shouldn’t, but… curiosity is crawling everywhere your mind turns. You try to rationalize it away — you’re just getting to know a friend, you’re curious about your alternate reality self. Everyone else here has gotten to compare lives, so why shouldn’t you?

He smiles, eyes taking on that faraway look of reminiscence. “I was getting my master’s degree. I wasn’t… I wasn’t Spider-Man, yet,” he shrugs, a small smile creeping over his lips. “We had a conversation on campus, in a library. I was looking for a paper referenced in my reading on the genetics of pain tolerance, and y– well, the other you,” he gives an apologetic, rueful smile before continuing: “You were in the last year of your bachelor’s, and totally lost. The student librarian gave you the wrong directions, so I helped you figure out where you really needed to be.”

You smile softly. “How nice of you.”

“Well, not really,” he laughs. “I was trying to be friendly, but I had this… this sarcastic know-it-all thing going on. We didn’t see each other for a year after that, and then suddenly you were a paid intern where I had just gotten a job.”

“Alchemax?”

“Alchemax,” he confirms.

As he tells the story of how he met the other you, the way the two of them slowly became friends and then more at the end of the internship when the dimension-209 version of yourself left for a different job, the way they fell in love, and he became Spider-Man but you figured it out together and still got married, the way he loved the living version of your aunt and….

You listen, and can’t help but picture yourself in this life. One where you finished school and never got bit by that spider, where your aunt never died, where you live a normal life with—

Shit. You might not be able to ignore this for much longer, after all.

“It sounds like you had a good life together,” you offer, when 209 falls quiet.

He nods, smiling sadly. “We did.”

It’s after dinner and you’re watching Miguel clean up the dishes from your seat on the couch. He’s long since relinquished total control of the kitchen and now includes you in the process of cooking, even if the space is a little cramped. But he refuses to budge on cleanup, insisting on doing it on his own.

“Are you sure I can’t–”

“Don’t even think about it,” he says firmly, shooting a stern look over the counter before he loads the dishwasher.

The dishwasher. The–

Whatever noise you let out would embarrass you beyond belief, if it weren’t for the hand now snaking down your front.

“Dishes,” you say, breathless. That’s right—you had been loading the dishwasher before this.

Your face heats, stomach flipping, as the memory of a dream from much too long ago comes rushing back. You swallow, averting your eyes from the kitchen, unable to stop the careening train in your head that’s rebuilding the dream from scratch, the roles reversed.

Miguel, standing in the kitchen. You, this time behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your hands wander–

“Alright, sheesh,” you finally say. “My apologies, Kitchen Lord.”

You don’t have to look to know that Miguel is rolling his eyes.

As he finishes up you escape down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door behind yourself with a hard click. You don’t know why you’re so… whatever the hell this is. It’s not like you’ve never had other dreams about him, it’s not like you’re completely unaware of the steadily growing feelings you secretly harbor. It’s just… it’s just…

It’s just what?

You flush the toilet, wash your hands. Miguel’s toothbrush—how long has he had a toothbrush here?—sits innocently in the cup beside your own, staring back at you.

It’s just that now it doesn’t feel like harmless attraction to a friend. It’s just that now, when these moments happen they send you fleeing into the bathroom. It’s just that now it’s—

Shit.

You dry your hands on the hand towel, open the door, turn off the light. You stand in the darkness of the hallway, though it really isn’t all that dark with your slightly enhanced vision, heart pounding.

And then Miguel steps into view at the other end of the hall, the light behind him casting a soft glow on the hard angles of his face and the soft curve of one side of his mouth.

He opens his mouth, and you can see the gentle frown in his brow before you cut him off. It comes out before you can stop it, before you can think through what it is you’re asking and what might follow.

“Can we talk about something?”

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

[the-dawn-star]

hey omg loved your drunk!dabi x teen reader, and I totally agreed with your headcanon of him having terrible hangovers, and I was wondering if you could write a part 2 of that fic but the morning afterwards when he's hungover and teen!reader takes care of him?? (platonic ofcc) Tyy

A/N: This is a bit more of a crack fic than intended but I hope you like it!

-S

+400ish words.

Dabi sleeping late was the most normal thing about Dabi. But when he had a hangover, it became ten times worse.  

It was two in the afternoon, and you still hadn’t seen Dabi walk out of his bedroom. You had the briefest idea of him dead in the room, but you decided against this idea.  

You were cooking tonight's dinner while watching once again some stupid game show that your friends in school had gotten obsessed with. You didn’t mind spending the afternoon doing housework and periodically checking into Dabi's room to see him still sleeping.  

The show went on commercial break and right at the same time Dabi’s door was flung open and Dabi ran to the bathroom.  

You tried to ignore the sounds of Dabi emptying his stomach while getting him a glass of water and taking a piece of bread out of its package.  

After Dabi came out of the bathroom with a toothpaste mark on his shirt and hair wildly unkept.  

He sat down around the dining table, hiding his face behind his hands. You didn’t say anything and put Dabi’s breakfast and lunch in front of him.  

The game show started again.  

“Can you please shut that thing down...” Dabi sounded awful and took a sip of the water.  

You lowered the volume and continued your previous task of cooking.  

“How are you feeling?” You asked.  

“Why do you ask such stupid questions? Can’t you see how I am feeling.”  

“Oh, I know how you feel. I was just trying to be polite, like people often do.” 

“Shut up.”  

You knew that he wasn’t really mad, he was just trying to be an asshole.  

You went to your medicine cabinet and took out a pain killer for Dabi.  

Dabi took the painkiller for once without a fuss and you sat opposite to him.  

“I thought of keeping this a secret, but you know how it is...” Dabi looked at you like you were insane while eating the piece of bread.  

“Twice filmed a lot of it... Like so much of it...” The terror seeped deeper and deeper into Dabi's core with every word you said.  

“You are terrible at karaoke, and dancing and at pool and,” Dabi interrupted you: “Okay I get it!” 

You took your phone from your pocket and pulled up the video. Dabi was, in fact horrible at karaoke, trying to sing with Toga and Twice while he had to hold on to Twice to stay on his feet.  

Dabi lasted about five seconds through the video before he was back on his feet, running at full speed to the bathroom to get rid of the bread and water that he had just eaten.  

You hummed to the music in the video before yelling: “Hey what’s the name of this song, it’s really good!”  

Dabi said something that sounded a lot like “fuck you” but there was no way to be sure of that.  

[peaky-shelby]

Define Me | Neymar x OC [6]

Summary: Famous Singer and Actress, Gabriella Hamill, travels to Qatar after being invited on live television by her favorite player, Lionel Messi. Despite the invitation, Ella tries to avoid the cameras and hide in plain side, wanting to enjoy the games without the chaos that comes with being in Public places and it all seems to be going well until she meets Neymar Jr. in this bad boy meets good girl story, the definition of good and bad is lost between the lines and redefined by the past and future.

« Previous chapter

Chapter 6: regretful by definition

Chapter summary: I'll let this one be a surprise 👀

Writer's note: as always please reblog and most importantly comment so i know y'all are still reading and i can write most chapters. There are probably only four left in the series btw.

Taglist: @xngelsau @sirensanction @reneyahh @thegrinch101 @geekwritersworld @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @blondedjoys @maneaterss @inthemoonlightblue @iluvneyney @woozarts @missamericana69 @bjoriis @marialikescherries @measimp @morganadpl @neymarloverxxx

Ask anyone in the business and they’d tell you that Peter Evans and Gabriella Hamill were the IT Couple of Hollywood. Long time friends before they were actually a thing and when they became a thing the internet went wild. Both at their high of their careers, with Peter taking over Marvel Studios and Lily with her own TV show and a fresh Oscar win. America’s sweetheart was dating Captain America himself and they seemed more in love than anyone and It was true they were. Paradise lasted for a year before it turned to the typical one-sided relationship in which both partners go on and on about their wants and their needs but neither of them seems to listen meanwhile the pressure of the media was always there, pressuring them to get married, to start a family to become a Hollywood royalty. Peter wanted that, she didn’t.

“Peter, I’ve told you before- I can’t do this!” she yelled, while making her way to the kitchen, trying to avoid him but he followed behind her like an angry dog.

“There’s difference between can’t and wont Ella!”

She turned aggressively back at him, pointing with her finger “I was honest with you from the start! I told you I didn’t want kids, not for a long time-“

“That was two fucking years ago, relationships evolve!”

“There has not been a day in this fucking relationship that you haven’t pressured me about it!” she said louder. “All your fucking jokes on interviews, talking about how much you want to be a dad, throwing shots at me whenever- it is in fact exhausting-“

Their fights would usually end nowhere good but at least most of them were at home, where no one else could hear them or record, meanwhile they’d play the happy couple on the carpet. Until it exploded in their face.

January 7, 2020 – One Day Before A Concert, Greece

“I’m tired of you pretending that we are fine, we are not fine Peter!” she screamed in between her sobs.

“Maybe it’s because you were fucking your fucking guitarist a moment ago-“ he mumbled, standing in front of the wide window from were he could see Acropolis. The hotel room was small, so small that it could easily turn into a war zone in just a few seconds. Gabriella watched him with her eyes wide open.

“You think I’d do that to you?” she asked, her voice cracking. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “no” she shook her head “You’re just looking for a reason to blame this on me, so you won’t blame yourself- its what you’ve always done!”

He turned to face her, his expression blank, his t shirt wrinkled. “It’s not my fault you can’t have any kids, it’s yours, isn’t it?”

To that she didn’t respond but if there was a sound to describe her heart breaking it would be the cold sigh that escaped her lips. She had never felt this pain in her chest before, the man she loved most in the world stabbing her with words she had only ever trusted him with. A part of her wanted to find an excuse, to blame it on the drinks he had before he came to her hotel room but another was sick of the gas lighting and the manipulation and being distracted like that.

“How dare you?” she whispered. He avoided her eyes, looked anywhere but her. He rubbed his face while she got closer. She hit him on the chest, slapped him repeatedly until he grabbed both of her hands and dropped them. He walked away from her, grabbed his jacket from the bed and put it on. Gabriella watched him leave and when he opened the door, she grabbed the nearest glass she could find and threw it at him on the hall, yelling every curse word she could think of. Everything else from that night was a blur, she knew people had seen her in the hallway in the hotel. She locked herself in her room, drank every bottle of alcohol she could find and woke up in the shower, while Maggie was throwing water in her face. Broken glasses and broken bottles covered the floors, which she must have stepped on and fallen on repeatedly because she had was bleeding from multiple scars. Next time she opened her eyes, she was in a hospital room, everyone wondering what the hell had happened to America’s sweetheart.

It wasn’t long before she fell back in her old habits, painkillers and sometimes heavy drugs. That addiction had started when she was 20. Only Maggie and Chris knew why, only Maggie kept the secret because on November 1st, just a few days before the election the whole world found out about the “Abortion of the America’s sweetheart”. She never thought she could be used as a political weapon, until she watched republicans yelling on TV about how the “democratic” actress and rolemodel would ruin their daughter’s future. She didn’t think she could ever love anyone after that until now.

But he didn’t kiss him. Although his lips hovered over hers for what felt like hours, she didn’t kiss him. She walked out of the car and walked back home, keeping her head down as she thought about kissing him and what it would mean. Ask her why she didn’t and she wouldn’t give you a straight answer because the truth is she didn’t know. She didn’t even wait for him to come after her like they did in movies and grab her in the most romantic way before putting his lips on hers. She was a lonely, scared, defensive idiot that couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with anyone and she really thought she had succeeded for the last 2 years in doing that. She really hadn’t fallen in love with anyone, anyone she’d kiss would be a fling, burnt out by noon and yet Neymar was a fire, and she hadn’t even kissed him yet.

She laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. At some point she fell asleep and her mind started wandering in her darkest memories, reminding her of all the reasons she didn’t kiss him, all the reasons of her disappearance. When she woke up in the morning she had her coffee alone on the balcony, she didn’t even open her phone to see how the game with France ended. Maggie didn’t even try to begin a conversation; she knew better than that. And the whole day seemed to be going as silent and as that until she heard the doorbell and it was weird because every inch of her body wanted to be Neymar. She opened the door hopeful and was met by the kind smile of Antonella. Holding a bowl of Ice Cream on her hands. “Mama said it can freeze away any worry.” Gabriella couldn’t help but smile and let her in, leading her outside on the balcony where they both sat, eating from the same bowl.

“Did you see the game?” asked Antonella, taking a full bite of ice cream.

“No, I was too busy regretting all my life choices” she said, swallowing the ice cream.

“It’s fine the English seemed to be doing the same thing-“

Gabriella left down her spoon, surprised “England lost?”

“Hmm” nodded Antonella “France is on the semi finals.”

“France against Portugal then?”

“Oh no!” Antonella said quickly raising her finger “Morocco”

Now she was in real shock, she laughed, covering her mouth “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.” She smiled “Hakimi showed Ronaldo how it’s done.”

Gabriella shook her hand and reached for the phone on her pocket, finally opening it. All the texts that had been sent overnight while she had it shut down, reached her, beep after beep and she ignored them all until he name popped on her screen. Her expression fell, her eyes closing.

“Estas Bien?” Asked Antonella. Gabriella left her phone on the table and leaned back on her chair, letting out a deep huff “No, no I am not.” She said quickly “Think I’ll spent today regretting all my life choices as well.”

“You could do that.” Antonella reached for bowl, digging in her spoon until she was satisfied “or you could make some new choices.” She added, eating from her spoon.

Gabriella glanced up, raising her eyebrows “What is that a Spanish saying or something?”

“I mean I could say it in Spanish if it makes you feel better.”

Gabriella sat better on her chair, looking at Antonella like a kid. She hesitated but then- “Can you please?” she asked. She wanted to hear the language, she wanted to pretend it was her mother across from her for a while. Gabriella smiled and pulled the chair closer to Gabriella, reaching for her cheek. “puedes pensar en las elecciones pasadas o puedes ir y hacer nuevas y buenas elecciones.” She leaned closer as she said it and perhaps it was an automatic response but Gabriella threw herself on her and hugged her as tight as she could, hiding her face in her hair. “está bien chiquitín! ¡no te preocupes” whispered Antonella, rubbing her back while she sobbed in her arms. “Hey- hey, ¡Oye! Mírame.” She asked, and Gabriella obeyed, looking up to her. Antonella wiped her tears away quickly “Fue él quien me dijo que viniera a verte. Estaba muy preocupado.” Gabriella knew she was referring to Neymar. He's the one that called her to come, something along those lines. Antonella was quick to translate it to English “He called me and told me he was worried because you weren’t answering” Gabriella felt immediately bad, she sniffed back her sobs. “Leo had an advice too.”

“Leo knows about this?” she asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Of course, he does. He wanted to come but he had training.”

“What’s his advice then?”

“cuando tienes el balón, marcas. Sólo pasan unos segundos antes de que llegue alguien, te lo robe y te placen mientras lo haces.”

Gabriella smiled. She got a few words, something about scoring when you have the ball otherwise you will get tackled and broken before you even know it. “It’s always about football with him, isn’t?” she laughed in between her sobs. Antonella nodded, smiling.

“You learn to get used to it.” She said and hugged her again, holding her close to her chest.

NEYMAR’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Outside it was raining. Inside Kylian Mbappe was making most of the noise, yelling at the screen whenever he’d miss a chance while playing fifa. “Hey! Wake up!” he yelled looking at Neymar, who was barely playing. Kylian paused the game, throwing the control on the couch and then grabbing a pillow and throwing it on his friend’s face.

“HEY!” Neymar yelled back at him “what the fuck?” he asked, holding on the pillow.

“You wanna focus on the game?”

“What does it matter, it’s just a game isn’t it?” he mumbled, throwing his controller on the table.

“Is this about brazil loosing?”

“What else would it be about?”

“I don’t know mystery girl aka Gabriella Hamill possibly.”

“No.” Neymar answered quickly, leaning back at the couch. He could feel Kylian staring and it was in fact getting annoying “Maybe it’s both.”

“Maybe.” Kylian mocked, laughing. Neymar got up and headed straight for the table with the drinks.

“I think I’ll leave tomorrow. Head back to brazil-“he said while pouring a drink for himself. Kylian watched him from over the couch, shifting his body to look at him.

“You just rented this apartment.”

“They’ll get their money. It’s fine. I wanna go back home…”

“Or get away” mumbled Kylian under his breath, sifting his body to look back at the screen.

“What does that mean?”

“Come on Ney. You always run away when things are hard, it’s your thing, either that or you get it out on the referees.” He laughed, Neymar got an ice cube from the bowl and threw it at him.

“HEY!” He yelled rubbing his head and looking back at Neymar who sat back to where he was sitting before, taking a sip from his fresh drink. “Didn’t even make me one?”

“Shut up.” Mumbled Neymar as a thunder sounded from outside the house. Just a few seconds later, the door bell rang, startling both of them. If someone had recorded their reaction it would have gone viral, Neymar jumped so abruptly he spilled his drink on the floor and Kylian cuddled himself on the corner of the couch. Kylian kicked Neymar.

“Don’t open the goddamn door. I’ve seen horror movies starting like that-“

Neymar took a few breaths to relax and completely ignored his friend. He got up and walked to the door. Looking at the camera screen, first. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He opened the door quickly, her small figure standing in front of him. Covered just by her hoodie which was completely wet by now, he stared down at her, now knowing how to act or what to do.

“hey.” She whispered, coughing.

“Hi.” He responded. The tension between them raising until-

“Bonjour!” jumped in Kylian, getting Gabriella’s attention who let out a small laugh when she saw him. She covered her mouth quickly.

“Bonjour Kylian.” She said from behind her hand. Neymar smiled at the way she was blushing.

“Are you going to invite her in dude?” he asked, reminding Neymar his manners. Neymar motioned for Ella to get in and closed the door. “Ms. Hamill, enchante” he said sitting up on the couch.

“Comment ca va Kylian?” she asked, while Neymar unzipped and took of her wet hoodie leaving her with just her t-shirt.

“Tu parle francais?” he asked surpised and got up to walk closer to her.

“I’ll get you another one.” Said Neymar quickly, running to his bedroom to get another hoodie. Meanwhile Kylian seemed to be enjoying the awkwardness.

“En peu.” She answered his question, narrowing her eyes “felicitations pour la victoire!” she added, smiling up at him. Neymar sprinted back to her with one of his hoodies, helping her wear it. After that he just kept staring at her and she at him, while Kylian was staring at both of them.

“Kylian.” Neymar addressed him without even looking at him.

“Hm?”

“Get the fuck out.”

“it’s raining.” He smiled, looking at Gabriella now.

“thankfully you’re not made out of sugar.” He answered quickly.

“What if I get hit by a thunder.”

“Kylian.” Repeated Neymar, this time more as a warning.

“Yes of course.” He nodded and ran to get his shoes, putting them on quickly and returning to where his was before. He took hold of Gabriella’s hand and kissed it, smirking at her. “You be good kids.” He added before leaving them alone.

When he shut the door both of them seemed to relax.

“You want a drink?” asked Neymar, moving to the table with the drinks.

“Yes please.” She asnwered, following behind him, slowly. All while he was pouring the drinks, she was staring at his hands, tracing the tattoos on his skin, the ones she could see, with her eyes. She was still staring when he turned back to her to hand her drink and she made sure to touch skin as he took the glass in her own hands. Her gaze slowly lifted to land on him. There was something about her eyes, he hadn’t noticed before, lust. The way she looked at him like she was promising a future, like she was begging for one. She got closer and Neymar actually felt his heard beating faster, he was anxious. He was never anxious. She let her glass down on the table, there was so much silence he heard the glass settling on the silver, like a warning. He took another sip while he watched her and he would have taken another one if she hadn’t reached for his glass, taking it away from him, leaving it next to hers while her eyes remained on his. Then she held on his shit, pulling him down to her.

“I stopped you last night.” She said in a whisper. He was stepped closer, his confidence returning, he gently rubbed his nose against hers. “Would you accept my apology?” she asked, their lips inches apart. He smirked.

“Depends. What do I get in return?”

She looked back and forth between his eyes and his lips, her face serious, sexy, her expression hypnotizing. “Me.”

He crashed his lips on hers without sparing even a second. Taking in her taste, her smell, everything she could give him in that moment and if you asked her, she’d tell you that she would give him anything, anything he wanted as long as he asked her for it. He lifted her up in his arms, almost like he wanted to make sure she was real and not just a fantasy. His kisses trailed down to her chin and then her neck as she leaned her head back, she he’d have better access, a soft moan escaping along with her breath. That was enough to give him all the confidence he needed for the whole night. “me” she said to him and he would take all of her as if her life depended on it. He carried her to his room, laid her on his bed as he took of his shirt, showing her every single tattoo all over his body. He hovered above her, balancing his arms on the bed. He started from her neck, leaving a mark on her skin as a reminder in the morning and then her ear, biting it slightly.

She grabbed his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss her lips instead because that’s what she wanted most, to taste him, to keep kissing him until her lips were dry and she had no air left in her lungs. He pulled of his hoodie from her and just a second later, he took off her t-shirt, kissed her breast while she let fingers get lost in his curls. She reached under his chin, to make him look up at her. He smirked again, leaning his head down to her ear.

“Apology accepted.” He whispered and made sure that night he’d take exactly what she promised him… her.

dw the steamy part is not over, just wanted to let you look forward for the next chapter. As always please please comment, it's very important to keep my going. I love you all xx comment what you like so far. How do you think this will end? Will they just be happy for the next 4 chapters? Or is there another storm coming 👀👀

[dejwrites]

DEBT, CHAPTER EIGHT

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, naoya being naoya, ➣ chapter summary: y/n learns more about nanami and bonds with her favorite fushiguro's.

➣ tags: @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @thicksimpx @hellavile @ihateliyah @galaxness @ceeriusly-dumb @stephanythedramaqueen @littlemochi @babe-im-bi @todo7roki @whatdidhesayyyy @imperatorkhaleesi @caribbeanwifey19 @etaerealboy

[ masterlist + previous + you can aslo read it on ao3 ]

YOU STARED INTO THE MIRROR APPLYING ANOTHER COAT OF LIP GLOSS. You rubbed your plump lips together, mixing the combo of your clear gloss and brown liner. The pastel blue top that has your boobs sitting perfectly and pretty. You were so nervous. It was your first time working a shift at such a provocative club and you could feel the nervous knot in your stomach twisting and turning constantly. You heard someone place something next to you on your personalized vanity that was for you. “Take a shot of this, the first night is always the roughest.” A girl said.

You turned to look at the girl. She had on a cropped tank top and you could see her black push-up bra that pushed her boobs up. She also was wearing a pair of black shorts with a Fanny pack that you assumed was for her to collect tips. Her head was filled with curls that fell in her face perfectly. “It’ll go by as quickly as possible.” She adds while she would grab some lotion from the vanity next to yours.

After you down the alcohol, letting the harsh brown liquor burn your throat, you watched as the girl would put lotion on her legs. Her light brown skin glistened with each stroke on her legs. You now were taking in her features as you noticed that she could have been mixed with black. She smiled at you before extending her hand, the scent of vanilla lingered up your nostrils as she waited for you to introduce yourself. 

“I’m Hana.”

“Y/N.” You shook her hand. 

“You’re the new dancer? I’ve heard some little things about you.” Hana picked up the bottle to put the cap back on it.

“Hopefully good things?” You asked. 

“Something like that, but you know a club where a lot of the employees are women can get messy,” Hana says. She glances at the clock, “Ah, it’s been thirty minutes since we opened. I should get back to my station behind the bar,” She extends her hand for you to grab. “Let’s go. You can’t hide in here away from the money for long. Plus, I’m positive it’s some gangstas in here that like to spend their money on pretty women like you.” Hana explains as she nudges you. 

You couldn’t help but smile at her as you took her hand. The once nervous pit that sat heavy in your stomach washed away as you made a new friend at work. You two walked into the main space where music blared through speakers and the scent of expensive cigars swirled around the air, you took note of your surroundings. Some women were giving some men lap dances and others were swirling around the pole. You remembered your manager mentioned that they rotate who dances on the main stage, but due to you being new it would take some time for you to get your time to shine. Tonight your role was to just do some lap dances to be able to cover the percentage you gave to your manager and then some for you to take home. 

Hana would give your hand a comforting squeeze as she was searching the room for a free man. She finally spotted a man in the corner in one of the private sections. All of his friends were chatting it up with a woman on their lap, except for him. She dragged you to the bar like a lost puppy searching for its owner, she went behind the bar and grabbed a bucket with ice and placed a bottle of whiskey in it. “Take this over there.” She motions her head to the section. “He looks rich.” She adds.

“I don’t know Hana, he doesn’t look like he wants to be bothered.” You said as she shoved the bucket in your hand. 

“Y/N, he’s staring at your ass,” Hana says as she would give you a look. “Go let him grab on it for an expensive price. Now go!” She gave you a light shove in the direction of the man.

With your head held high, you walked with so much sex appeal that many men you walked by heads turned to cop a look. You approached the security guard that was blocking anyone from coming into the section. You batted your eyelashes up at him and smiled at him, “I have a bottle on the house.” You held up the bucket. 

“Let her in.” 

You glanced behind the huge bodyguard and saw that the man who was staring at you had finally spoken. The guy moved with quickness letting you walk into the section. You smiled at him before you placed the bucket on the table. You were completely speechless, expecting the mysterious man to shun you away. However, here he sat with his thighs spread apart and drinking in your looks with his alluring hazel-colored eyes. Some of the buttons on his button-down shirt were undone and you could see the noticeable scar that was imprinted across his neck.  “You want to make yourself comfortable or you’re just going to let me keep staring?” He questioned as his lips curved into the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen. 

You searched around and saw the majority of the seats were taken before catching the flow of his words. His lap, you thought to yourself. You forced a chuckle before taking comfort in his lap. Even though he was the one to suggest taking a place on his lap, you could tell that you had him quite riled up to the point where he didn’t even know where to put his hands. As you shifted yourself on his lap, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it right on your lower back. His fingertips were able to trace the line of the g-string you were wearing. 

“I can pull you a drink if you want,” You leaned over to do just that but stopped you. 

His fingers snapped after he stopped you from pouring the liquor into one of the glasses. The bodyguard that once was guarding the entrance of the section hurried to pour the alcohol you brought over into the glasses. You sat in complete shock before your eyes met with his and you leaned over closer to his ear so he could hear you. While also letting him get a complete view of your cleavage and for him to be entrapped with the expensive scent of you, “You seem like a quite important man,” You said before leaning back. 

You watch as he chuckles, feeling his fingertips tapping at your lower back before he’s leaning towards your ear. 

“That’s because I am.” He said with confidence.

“Hello, earth to Y/N. You can’t zone out like that if you’re going to have to fight someone.” You heard Nanami say behind the punching bag he was holding in place. 

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind with this charity ball coming up.” You sighed as you brought your forearm up to your forehead to wipe away some sweat.

You’ve been training all morning from seven to now. Nanami taught you basic methods like getting out of chokeholds and defense methods. Then he ended the session by just letting you punch away at the punching bag that hung from the ceiling. Just to see how hard you punch, which according to him he thought you punched pretty good considering this was the first session. 

“I told you the first time when we met, don’t think too deeply into the tasks you’re assigned. You should be used to it now,” Nanami would walk to the mini fridge that was in the corner of his at-home gym. He grabbed two bottles of water and handed you one. 

“But come on, you’re telling me it doesn’t sit heavy in your mind when Toji assigns you a task?” You questioned as you took a sip from your water. 

“Of course it does. All the time considering that I’m the only engaged one in the damn gang.” Nanami admitted as he would prompt himself onto the floor. 

You joined him on the floor, stretching your tired limbs. “Engaged? I didn’t know you were freakin’ engaged Kento!” You shriek in excitement with a smile. “Congratulations, oh my god. We should throw you an engagement dinner or something,” You clapped your hands.

Nanami's lips parted to argue, considering that he and his fiancé have been engaged for six months now. It was a little too late to congratulate him with dinner parties. They had already set up meetings with planners and such. “Thank you.” He smiles. “She went to go visit her parents, I would love for you to meet her.” He said.

“Aww, look at you all in love and shit,” You say with a smile. “So, you think about her when you do illegal shit?” 

“Of course, all the damn time. I fear that maybe one day it’ll come back to bite me in the ass. The money I earn by doing what I do is what got us this house and anything she asks for, which she makes it clear she doesn’t care for. But to me, it’s what she deserves.” Nanami explains. “So of course, all of this shit sits heavy in my mind especially when she’s pregnant.”

“Nanami! She’s pregnant too! Oh my god, we need to plan a baby shower too!” You said in excitement. 

“She doesn’t know that I know,” Nanami says as he watches you give him a confused look. “I know her so well that I can tell when something is up. She was eating a fucking banana one morning, she hates them things. Then I found the test in the trash.” 

“And you haven’t talked to her about it?” You questioned.

“No, she has me reading this book she likes and I’m pretty sure by the time I get to the very last page of the book, it’s going to have a sticky note on a page stating she’s pregnant,” Nanami explained. “Books are kinda our thing.” 

Nanami looked at you and he let out a sigh. “Please don’t cry, what I said wasn’t even that sad.” 

You didn’t even notice that your eyes began to water at the way Nanami described his relationship with his fiancé. You went up to wipe your eyes before speaking, “Please let me at least throw you two an engagement dinner. It can be a surprise for her, I’ll even let you take the credit for it.” 

“Toji was right. You never let anything go. Fine.” Nanami threw his hands up in defeat. “We’re all done here, I’m sure Toji is on his way to come to pick you up.” Nanami stood up extending his hand for you to take which you did letting him help you up with grace.

“Thanks for this. I feel like a Charlie’s Angel now.” You giggled before following him up the stairs. You took note of how Nanami’s and his fiancé's house was decorated. It felt so homey and welcoming. You knew that the two of them would be wonderful parents. 

Nanami heard a horn honk outside his house. He would look at you, “You ever shot a gun before?” 

“Of course not. I’m a stripper,” You responded bluntly.

“Well, you’re gonna have to learn. I may have to talk to Toji about it first, but I think it’s for the best and your safety,” Nanami explained as he was walking towards the front door. 

“Do your fiancé know how to?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“She’s a military brat, of course, she does,” Nanami says as he opens the door. The two of you saw Toji waiting outside in his freshly cleaned jet-black Benz truck. The sun was out and he had the tinted windows down so you two were able to see him. 

He sat on the driver’s side with a pair of Ray Bans on with a white t-shirt. You could even see his muscles flex with just the littlest movement while he was waiting. Sometimes you found yourself staring at him due to his attractive looks. He always had you feeling all hot when you weren’t supposed to. Having to remember that getting attached wasn’t the best thing considering the things that were going on. However, you couldn’t just let the way he stared at you on some occasions just get brushed under the rug. Sooner or later, you had a feeling that either he was going to make a move or you were going to get too impatient with him and make the move yourself. 

“Wow, she gets even cooler the more I hear about her. Remember, let me do the planning for this dinner and you take the credit. I’ll keep you posted. Thank you for today Kento,” You would smile at him as you walked down the pathway towards Toji’s car. 

As you got closer, you would smile at Toji. “The training session went well,” You spoke as you got into the passenger side of the car. You could hear the baby babbles in the back of the car. 

Toji begins driving towards his house. “I have been doing some thinking,” He says. His hand grasped at the steering wheel before he’s tugging the shades off his eyes to get a better look at the road.

“It better not be another little Zenin-Fushiguro favor. You and Naoya are driving me insane,” You folded your arms over your chest. “For now on little Megumi is the only one I will do favors for.” You joked causing Toji to chuckle.

“Oh, so you’re in debt with Megumi now?” He asked.

“Maybe,” You laughed. “But seriously, what were you thinking about? It better not be to talk me out of this charity ball. I can’t pass up the opportunity to get more information about my father’s whereabouts and wear that gorgeous dress.” You admitted.

And you wanted to see him. You haven’t seen that man that Naoya suspected of being the head of the Endo yakuza gang in months. The last time you saw him, he paid you so much money before just disappearing and it frustrated you that you didn’t even know his name. Just knew he was handsome, pretty powerful, and had a thick wallet. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the charity ball. I have to trust Naoya to keep you safe during the ball since I’m not invited to it,” Toji explained. “He knows clearly that if something happens to you, I would kill him,” Toji said with a grin.

The grin he had on his face showed you that he was extremely serious about what he said. 

“Well, what were you thinking about?” You asked as you looked at him. 

“Let me cook for you tonight.” Toji firmly said as he stopped at a red light. His eyes glanced over at you waiting for a response.

“You cooking?” You asked as you met his gaze.

“I know how to cook a few things,” Toji pointed out. “I was going to suggest going out for dinner, but I thought this was better to get to know each other some more.” 

“I would love that Toji,” You said with a smile that he returned. 

“Great!” Toji says. “But if it’s gross, you have to be honest with me and tell me.” He sighs.

“Oh believe me, I will!” You said out loud. “But I’m sure it can’t be that bad, just make it with love,” You said. “That’s what my mom used to tell me when she cooked for me.” 

“And if I do and it’s still nasty?” Toji asked as he stopped at a red light.

“Then we order carry out,” You said with a laugh. “You can’t go wrong with that, right?” You flashed him a grin that he would slyly return before continuing down the street in his nice car.

When you returned to Toji’s house, evening settled the Fushiguro household quickly. While the moon shined down on the luxury mansion, you found yourself showering and changing into something more comfortable. You followed the savory scent of food back downstairs, you could even hear Megumi’s babbling as he was in the playpen playing with his toys. The loud sound of his baby drum set attempted to overpower the sound of Toji cooking in the kitchen. When you stepped into the kitchen, you washed your hands glancing at Toji who was reading from a cookbook (that you didn’t even know he had).  “Do you need me to help?” You asked and you watch as Toji’s eyes averted from the pages of the book to you. 

“I think, I have it handled.” 

“You think?” You asked and he gave you a blank look before closing the book he was reading through.

“Please cut those onions over there for me, I’ll greatly appreciate it.” He flashed you a kind smile that made you chuckle. 

“You got it, chef,” You jokingly say before you’re doing the task he asked you to do. 

The two of you basking in each other silence. The only sounds that occupied the first level of Toji’s home were Megumi’s chaotic noise of him drumming on his toys and the sound of something boiling. “So, I think we should throw Kento and his fiance an engagement dinner,” You said out loud.

“It’s a little late for that, they’ve been engaged for a while now.” Toji stirred what was in the pot he was boiling. 

“I know, but I’m just learning of the engagement. I think it’ll be a nice gesture even though I told him, I’ll say it was all his idea.” You explained. “Plus, it’ll be fun for everyone to whine down once in a while. Which I understand, you guys have dangerous things to handle—” 

Your rambling was interrupted by Toji. “If that’s what you want to do for him and his fiance, do it. I kinda took you away from your job to help me and I understand you’re probably bored as hell. So, if planning a dinner party for the lovebirds would cure your boredom, go for it. Just please let me know when you want to go out and look at venues and such, just so I can make sure someone takes you.” Toji explained. 

“It’s what Kento deserves. I’m happy that he’s happy, so it’s on me. You know where to find me if you need the card,” Toji told you before he went back to stirring the substance in the pot. 

“Urgh, I’m never going to get out of debt with you.” You said jokingly while cutting up the onions.

“You are, we just need to figure out this situation with the Endo gang,” He says. “But no debt talk tonight, this is supposed to be me cooking for you,” Toji says as he lowered the flame on what was on the stove. He took a couple of steps forward to collect the knife from your hand, his hand lightly brushing against yours while he took it. “I got it from here, just relax, and please see if it’s another toy Megumi can play with. The little rockstar is giving me a headache with the banging,” He lightly nudged you towards the exit of the kitchen, eventually going back to his Gyudon recipe he was trying to cook. 

You did what you were told, letting your feet be met with the grey-colored rug in the living room that contrasted the living room sofas very well. You walked towards the playpen where Megumi was continuing to bang on his toy drum set. You wanted to assume either Gojo or Geto brought him that toy, you felt like those two were the type to buy the nosiest toy for the baby just to spite Toji. You leaned over to collect the toy, but you watched as Megumi's green hues stared up at you before he’s extending his arms for you to pick him up. His baby hands sprouting outward and his fingers wiggling with an innocent doe-eyed look just so you can embrace him. 

“Do not pick him up! He does that look when he’s ready to get out of the playpen!” You heard Toji say, but his statement was too late since you already scooped Megumi up in your arms. 

You held him closely while the scent of baby powder and Toji linger up your nose. It was a pleasant scent that you had grown accustomed to within your time of living here. Your hand caressed his head feeling his soft dark hair as she was waltzing around the living room with him in your arms. He was laying perfectly on your chest with his pacifier in his mouth before you walked into the kitchen with him. 

“You picked him up?” Toji said as he tugged out dishes from the cabinet. 

The smell of nicely seasoned beef now swirled around the kitchen as you were holding Megumi. “He gave me a look and I couldn’t resist.” Your lips form a cute pout. “Look at the green eyes, you can’t say no to that Toji.” You said.

“Was it this look?” Toji mimics the same look Megumi gave you for you to pick him up. It took you by shock to see the striking resemblance between the two. Obviously, they were going to look alike, but their shared green-colored eyes were what caused your heart to feel heavy. 

“Yes.” You answered as you sat Megumi on the kitchen island. 

“Where’d you think he learned it from?” Toji chuckled as he exit the kitchen to go set the table. 

As you stood in the kitchen with Megumi who was toying with the diamond pendant from the necklace Toji gave you, you felt a sense of home. The soft feeling of being comfortable around Toji and Megumi was a feeling you never experienced before. It was like finally being able to unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders after having your guide up your whole day. You felt safe here. 

Even though once your tasks were over with and your debt was cleared up, you would have to unravel yourself from them. And the thought of that hurt. 

“So much for getting attached, huh?” You asked yourself lowly and Megumi only glanced up at you leaning his head to the side like a confused puppy. 

[why-am-i-here-someone-save-me]

Hi sweetheart, how are you doing? I hope we’ll, I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner, but you know, life exist😂

Today for me is extremely joyful! My father is not only healing from his previous relationship (it was a toxic one where he sacrificed his blood ties(?) with his daughters) but he’s trying to rebuild his bond with us! The other thing is, after some convincing, my mother bought me antidepressants.

A part from the fact that I have a request in mind, for me it’s more important to know how you doing sweetie.

Talking about the request, can I please have a Sagau reaction to their God!Reader started to prefer Sumeru to the other nations? I love Mondstadt and Venti, but Nahida and Sumeru just took my heart away! Obv you can choose which characters to do!

You don’t have to neither do my request nor respond to this message(?) if you don’t want to!

Have a good day/afternoon/night honey.❤️

First of all, I’m so glad to hear that luv! I wish you the very best and most pure sincerity with reconnecting with your dad! And as someone who’s been on antidepressants pretty much her whole life; I can’t imagine how strong you must be to have gone without them; I know I certainly wouldn’t be able to lol. Anyways, it’s a bit short, but I hope this is satisfactory for you my dear Chiara! 🥰

Green With Envy

The traveler’s journey had continued yet again, much to many’s dismay. Another nation now got to bask in your presence, much to the disappointment of the other three. Up until lately, you had always tried to spend time in each nation equally, something that their citizens appreciated deeply. But now?

Well, Liyue hadn’t seen your gaze since the chasms’ depths were unsealed.

Inazuma had not felt yet presence since the conclusion of the Iridori festival.

And Mondstadt? Well, you’d been there for the recent festival, only to disappear again shortly afterwards.

So where had you been?

Well. Sumeru of course.

You’d been exploring vast forests, seeing new creatures, fighting new opponents, meeting new people, uncovering new mysteries, and so much more! Surely it hadn’t been that long since you last visited Liyue, right? And you just visited Inazuma a few days ago, didn’t you? Mondstadt was just as lively as always when you visited earlier, wasn’t it?

Sumeru thrived in your presence, it’s wildlife flourishing and its people blessed with plentiful harvests and abundant wealth.

But what of the others? Had you cast them aside so quickly? Had they done something to anger you?

Mondstadt’s winds turned colder without your presence, the once temperate air turning chilly, driving many of the animals into hiding.

Inazuma’s weather grew rainy and gloomy, though it was not the doing of the shogun this time. Even the sacred sakura’s petals seemed to be duller without the lingering feeling that you left behind.

Liyue had not been fairing much better. The crops and fish seemed to dwindle without the effects of your guidance. The harbor seemed just a bit less lively, and smiles were just a bit harder to find.

The archons yearned for you to visit their lands again, but they knew it was not their place to ask anything from you after all you’d done for their nations. So they watched.

They watched as you met new friends, took on new companions, befriended new creatures, and spent time with the new Dendro archon. They wish they could hold it against Nahdiah, but they couldn’t find it within themselves to do so. Jealous as they may be, they will wait for you.

Surely you’d come back for them…

…right?

[naradivision]

“Merry Christmas,

I wasn’t sure of the things you’d like, but I do know your division’s famous for its deer parks, I thought this might be something you can get behind. Have fun with this little guy.

— Makina Setsukura from Akihabara Division (did you know that? I dunno, maybe you do, maybe you don’t)”

Yuuya Kanata chuckled, shaking his head as he set the little notecard down. He lifted the lid to the present that was delivered to him.

Inside was a somewhat firm stuffed animal in the shape of a deer that was almost half the size of his upper body.

At long last when the reddish haired boy had returned to his home after relaying his Christmas presents to another division due to the ‘Secret Santa’ campaign, it seemed like his turn had come to receive some gift from his secret ‘Santa’ too.

Looking at the big deer plushie while softly chuckling, Yuuya picked up the fluffy stuffed animal from the box he found at his doorstep and took it inside his room.

“Here we go, newcomer. Why not befriend Mr. Greenie over there?”

The boy gently placed his stuffed animal gift beside the dinosaur plushie he received from his graduated senior last year, then he recalled his secret Santa’s name.

Makina Setsukura? Oh, that’s the gamer girl whom he and Hi-chan had sent some birthday presents to previous September. Nice to know that she still remembered him even if he didn’t really interact much with her in person. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she was one of those numerous streamers Takane had befriended online.

Takane was the name of his classmate who, in fact, had an alter online-sona known under the name ‘Aozora’ and was actually Makina’s upperclassman at the academy —Only if she knew his true identity. This low-energy friend of his was also happened to be the regular client of Kiyozaki-san as well since he still had some problems with his insomnia and excessive daytime sleepiness ongoing from past two years. 

But Yuuya was sure his friend didn’t know that one of his online fellows did turn out to be a resident at his therapist’s place too

—Pfft, internet and coincidence were definitely curious things, weren’t them? 

Suddenly, he felt the intense glare from somewhere behind his back.

“Phew. Is it just you, Ojou-chan?” 

Facing off his intensely staring kitten who was now hiding herself in the empty present box, Yuuya gave out a sigh of relief. He was never good with the spooky kind of stuff and that made him wonder how those two streamers could have fun playing some hair-raising horror games even in the middle of night.

“I’m afraid this unfortunately isn’t your new toy. I just got this from one of my friends out there. Uh, so, no scratch on this one please?”

“Meowwrrr.”

“Okay, okay. Aren’t you satisfied with the new toy I got for you last week? Fine, want me to add some more scratching posts to your house?”

“Meowwwrrrrr.”

“This isn’t it? Eh... Then what else can I do…”

Slightly tilting his head as if using his thought, he soon followed the direction of her stare and finally understood why his petite kitten was glared daggers at him.

“—Wait, are you looking at this thing? Hi-chan had made it for me and everyone in the team, so don’t worry, it can neither hurt you nor me.” 

He picked up one end of the weird-looking cat scarf on his neck and hurled it around in the air to show his petite roommate that this lifeless piece of cloth can’t be harmful to anyone.

The Siamese kitten looked at him in disbelief as she gave her final hiss while jumping out of the box. She cautiously stepped back, still eyeing his scarf like some kind of paranoid predator until she thought herself was far enough and ran away.

Even though she was always behaving like a little kid with him, somehow Yuuya felt like his Ojou-chan was a tad bit more understanding than normal cats. 

But, oh well, this funny thought might be nothing but his imagination anyway.

—Thank you for the gifts and Merry Christmas! 🎄

[stray-kaz]

On Blind Faith : a Matt Murdock x reader FF : THREE

Matt walked into the office with Foggy the next morning, half wondering if the previous night had been something he’d dreamed.

“Did you know that your friend has a baby?” he asked suddenly.

Foggy glanced at him, a little surprised.

“Yes...” he answered warily. “Does that bother you? Because if it does, you know I’m gonna have to kick your ass into next year.”

Matt shook his head, hiding a smile.

“No, it doesn’t bother me” he said. “What does bother me is the fact she’s trailing history with the largest crime family in Chicago.”

Foggy stared at him incredulously.

“What?” he demanded. “She wasn’t kidding about the mafia thing?”

Matt shook his head.

“Her son is Leo Ricci’s.”

Foggy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Damn it” he muttered, exasperated. “She told you all of this?”

He sounded perplexed. Matt nodded.

“Yes, she did.”

“Did you put the moves on her, too?”

Matt rolled his eyes.

“No, I did not” he retorted. “I’d only just met her.”

“And since when has that stopped you?”

Matt ignored this.

“I offered us to her as lawyers, in case things with Leo or his family go south.”

“I bet you’d like to go south” Foggy muttered grouchily.

Even with Matt’s glasses firmly in place, Foggy could feel his glare. He ducked his head, mumbling an apology as they arrived at their office building.

Foggy came to an abrupt stop before he reached the door marked with a cardboard sign, as you were standing right in front of it, Luca in your arms. Matt stopped, too, and turned his head in Foggy’s direction, feigning ignorance.

“She’s here” Foggy said, nudging him with his elbow.

Matt smiled at you, already having been able to scent you, talcum powder and all.

“Good morning” he said politely. “Hello, Luca.”

The boy lifted his head from your shoulder and smiled around the thumb tucked inside his mouth.

“He’s smiling at you” you pointed out for Matt’s benefit.

The grin he gave you could have melted you into a puddle on the floor; you briefly wished that Leo had ever looked at you like that.

“Are you okay? Do you need something?” he asked.

Just you.

A tiny twitch of his lips made you wonder foolishly if he could read your mind.

“I brought muffins and pretzels” you answered, holding up the large brown paper bag in your left hand.

“I love you” Foggy declared, snatching it from your grip and sailing past you into the offices.

You laughed and switched arms with Luca. Matt nodded at you and gestured for you to go ahead.

“Ladies first” he said.

You went on in front of him and he closed the door behind you both.

“You’ll have to describe those tattoos for me sometime” he murmured in your ear as he passed you to reach, unnervingly on target, for the double chocolate muffin already on its way to Foggy’s open mouth.

“Hey!” he exclaimed.

Matt grinned and bit into the muffin, all the while listening to the sped up patter of your heart at his words. You looked down at the dark ink swirling down your bare arms, another sweltering summer day in the Kitchen sending you running for little to no sleeves.

You reached for a pretzel and bit into it, slipping a small piece into Luca’s mouth, kissing his forehead. He nuzzled into you and chewed contentedly.

“So is this a social visit?” Matt asked you, raising his eyebrows.

“Consider this a retainer” you replied, biting your lip.

Foggy’s gaze snapped to yours, eyes narrowing, and Matt sat up straighter on the corner of his desk, cane clicking harshly against the hard floor.

“What happened?” he asked quickly.

His voice was low, urgent, and it sent an unexpected arrow of heat through you. You stuck your free hand into your back pocket and withdrew a folded slip of paper. Matt cocked his head to the side and you stepped forward to press the page to his chest; you felt the shift of his heart beneath his shirt briefly before he freed it from your fingers and your hand fell away, Foggy’s eyes following it with exaggerated attention.

“Why did you give it to Matt?” he asked curiously. “He can’t see.”

You waited for Matt to unfold the paper; he did so and sucked in his breath as he ran his fingers over it in rapid uniform lines.

“It’s in Braille” he announced quietly, glancing up in your general direction. “Who is this from?”

“Three guesses, but you’ll only need one to win the prize.”

He nodded.

“Did it have your name on it?” Foggy interjected.

You nodded.

“Yes, and Luca’s. Mom and Dad didn’t see it, thank goodness. I don’t want them to freak out.”

“Maybe they should” Foggy said sombrely. “Maybe you should run.”

“No” Matt said firmly.

They both stared at him, you watchful and waiting for a reason.

“No?” Foggy demanded incredulously. “What’s your better idea, Matt? Surrender and give Luca up? Die?”

“No” Matt said again, shaking his head. “You stand and fight back.”

He knew as he said it he was acting selfishly, but he didn’t want to let you go just yet; he didn’t want to give you up when he had only just discovered you.

“But you can’t stay with your parents until this is resolved. They will be in danger as long as you’re there.”

“Then where?” Foggy asked. “Where are they going to go? Protective custody? WITSEC?”

Matt shrugged lightly.

“Of a sort” he said. “They’ll stay with me. Whether you believe me or not, I can keep them safe.”

You gazed at him steadily.

“I believe you” you said softly.

You hesitated, then asked what you were dying to know.

“What does the note say?”

Matt sighed, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the wire wastepaper bin next to the desk.

“I want my family back, you blind bastard” he recalled calmly.

You shuddered and held Luca tighter; he protested a little and you relented.

“When do we move?” you asked, burying your nose in your son’s dark hair and breathing him in.

“Now” Matt answered decisively, standing up; he handed the remains of his muffin to Foggy. “Just follow me.”

You nodded, smiled weakly at Foggy and followed Matt out into the corridor.

Tagging: @succsessions​

[earthrealsvn]

candy [m.i]

a small fic based on “Candy” by H.O.T/NCT DREAM | aka in which Midoriya Izuku wants to break up with you

category: angst, fluff

warning(s): Midoriya is a bit ooc, the portrayed relationship is a little toxic

w.c: 1.4k

a/n: ever since my boys covered this song, i’ve wanted to write a piece about it. so out of my cave i crawl to offer this before hiding away again. i’m trying to get back into writing but there’s just some stuff i gotta sort out before i can get fully into it. i hope you all enjoy this though! i recommend listening to the song or looking at the lyrics before/while reading, but you don’t have to in order to understand this piece. also, merry late Christmas! i hope everyone enjoyed their holidays!

groaning, Izuku cracks his back as he sits up from his hunched position, pushing his final piece of paperwork away. after a night of restless sleep, he had come in early, remembering that he hadn’t finished a report of his from the previous day. the work, however, failed to keep him from thinking back to the thought that had kept him awake all night. unfortunately for Izuku, he wasn’t sure why said thought kept him up. it wasn’t like he had anything bothering him or causing any distress. in fact, his life was at a pretty good place at the moment.

rubbing his temples, he glanced tiredly at the clock and realized it was almost sunrise. remembering you saying how much you liked watching the sun peak over the city buildings, he spun in his chair to look out the window. the sky turned golden and he found himself agreeing with you — it really was a pretty sight.

and just like the sun washed over Mustafu, realization washed over Izuku. today was the day he was going to break up with you.

[0][0][0][0][0]

his lunch break had just hit as your nickname finally popped up on his phone screen. he accepted the call and lifted his phone to his ear.

“yeah, just set them over there— oh! ah, Izu, hey! you said you needed to call, what’s up?” your voice floated through the speaker and a small smile found its way onto his lips.

“hey, love,” he held back a sigh, “i was just wondering if you wanted to meet for lunch?”

“oh, uh, yeah, sure but… doesn’t your break start now? i have, like, another hour left to go,” he can hear the confusion in your voice and he curses himself for forgetting that you do, in fact, have your lunch break an hour after he does.

“i’ll just take mine in an hour, too, then,” he murmurs. “it’s, um, something important i need to talk to you about.”

there’s shuffling on your end and he can hear you shut the door to your office — something you only do when on important calls. “what’s going on? is everything okay?”

“yeah… yeah everything’s fine,” that’s a lie, “i just— it can’t really wait until later.”

“well, if you’re sure. uh, yeah, i can meet for lunch. where were you thinking?”

“the usual, if that works for you.”

“sounds good to me. see you around 1:30 then?” he hums in approval. “okay! i love you, Izu!”

“i love you too,” the click signals to him that you’ve hung up and he sets down his phone, dropping his head into his hands. it’s not like he completely lied — he does, in fact, still love you. but somehow a big part of him knows that he can’t be with you anymore.

now that it’s finally dawned on him, Izuku realizes that it’s been a long time coming. for the past few weeks, he’s been comparing you to other girls in text messages with his high school friends. whenever he questioned his brain why, it would always murmur back that it’s to help the heart grow cold. but if that’s the case, then why did he feel like an asshole? though he supposes he is for doing such a thing. all you’ve ever done was give him love and affection, and he’s returning it with taking your insecurities and highlighting them behind your back.

tears spring into his eyes and spill down his cheeks. it’s pathetic of him, really, to sit here crying over the situation, crying over you when he’s the one about to break your heart. he doesn’t deserve to be crying right now. but the crybaby in him can’t help himself and the tears make their way down his cheeks and splash onto the wooden surface of his desk. if only he’d broken it off when the behavior first started — dodging your kisses and walking behind you on outings — but he was selfish and kept you with him.

maybe he’d just say that the two of you should have some space… but even that seemed like a lie. shutting his eyes, Izuku shrank back into his chair with an exhale. how was he supposed to tell you that he couldn’t be with you anymore? after all, he still loves you. although that’s a part of the problem, he thinks. still loving you meant it’d be harder for him to end things.

he swallows dryly and spares a glance at the clock. there’s enough time, maybe about twenty minutes, for him to assemble some form of speech to give. nodding to himself, he stands and stretches his sore limbs before he begins pacing in front of the window.

[0][0][0][0][0]

the restaurant is quieter than usual, Izuku notes as he enters. he counts it as a good thing for today, however, and slips into the usual booth. he fiddles with his menu as he waits for you and nearly jumps when you take your place across from him.

“hey, Zuku. did i startle you?” a small bout of laughter accompanies your words and he finds himself blushing.

“ah, yeah, you got me.” slowly, he meets your eyes and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of your smile. he can’t deny himself — even if this meeting is so he can break your heart into pieces, your smile will forever be dear to him.

“what did you need to talk about?” ah yes, another thing he loves about you: your ability to get right to the issue without delay. it’s a good quality to have considering you’re both heroes, but in times like these, Izuku has grown to hate that about you.

“oh! um… well… it can wait until we’re done eating!”

your eyebrows quirk at him but he forces a smile onto his face and avoids your gaze. he knows you want to pester him about it, but he’s saved as the waiter approaches. food and drinks are ordered and Izuku doesn’t give the chance for more questions from you as he launches right into small talk. it’s not hard to feel the annoyed look you’re giving him, but you indulge anyway.

while the two of you eat, it feels like a regular lunch to Izuku, and he forgets why he was so nervous to talk to you… until the meal is done and he’s paying. once more his throat tightens up and he feels his mouth go dry. of course… this wasn’t something he could just ignore forever. so he takes your hand and leads you out of the establishment, refusing to meet your eyes as you walk.

his feet carry him to what you’ve claimed to be your favorite bridge in the city. it’s settled in a peaceful park that stems into a Japanese garden. you lean against the railing and stare out at the pond, stance relaxing. exhaling quietly, Izuku slumps against the railing and tries to busy himself with the sights of the park.

“so, again, what did you want to talk about Izuku?” oh shit, the full name. you hardly ever use his full first name, the only exceptions being whenever you’re angry at him.

“um… well…” squeezing his eyes shut briefly, he opens them before turning to face you. he’s mentally preparing for what’s about to happen, but the second your eyes lock… it’s gone. the words that had been carefully crafted suddenly fled his mind and he’s stuck blankly looking at you. as he grasps at straws, tries to find something, anything, to say to you, another realization crashes against the back of his mind. all he’s doing is standing under the same sky as you.

smiling, he takes a breath before speaking, “i just love you, that’s all.”

confusion first settles upon your countenance, then disbelief. “you mean you stressed me out just to say i love you?” an exasperated sigh follows. “i mean, i love you too but… Izu… it’s not that impor—”

“yes it is!”

and before you can say anything else, his hands grasp your waist and he pulls you in for a kiss. your confusion melts away and you return it, arms looping around his neck.

when he finally pulls away, he gives you a sincere smile.

“i’ll always be there for you, Y/N.”

and he knows you believe him.

[jaskwritesthings]

I have a Dream x Hob prompt. I would love a fic where Hob talks about being in or having had a relationship with a man, dude's hundreds of years old and I refuse to believe he never tried this, and Dream is just lowkey being jealous. Maybe he knows why, maybe he doesn't either way he's just mad someone else got to know Hob in ways he hasn't. Would love it even more if Hob just gushes on without realizing that Dream isn't just being all regular dark and broody, he's in Advanced Darkness and wants a name and that name's worst nightmares. Thank you. I would just love to see our emo boy being all jealous.

tags: none

(ao3)

“You appear to have a fondness for this magazine?” Dream said as he admired the framed covers hung up on Hob’s walls. The style was new to him, more sketch-like than the art he’d seen before his imprisonment. The mixture of men, women and children looked like dolls in some ways, almost all of the individuals had ruby red cheeks and the faces were familiar enough to suggest a single artist behind all of the pieces. A faded handwritten tag named the artist as ‘J. C. Leyendecker’ below each print. 

“Hm? Oh, that. No, no interest in it, but the man who made the covers, old flame of mine. Damn good artist, couldn’t help but collect his pieces. Got a few originals tucked away,” Hob offered up just as easily as he did every aspect of his life for Dream.

Dream felt a flicker of something dark in his chest, it lashed out like the thump of a cat’s tail, a warning of its ire, “He drew for you?”

“Anything and everything, not just me. But he did paint me once or twice, can’t really loan those ones out to a museum though. People might catch on a bit, you should see what they say about Keanu Reeves,” Hob chuckled as he handed Dream a cup of steaming tea he’d been preparing as Dream snoped around his flat. 

“You remember this artist fondly?” Dream questioned softly, no longer admiring the work.

“Joseph? Very, I always try to remember the ones I love. Gets difficult over time, wish I’d never pawned Eleanor’s portrait, can’t really remember what she looked like anymore,” he sighed sadly, an old grief that Dream recognised in himself.

“I’m sorry,” Dream offered though he knew from experience the words were never quite enough.

Hob smiled, it wasn’t as bright as some of his previous ones, tinged as it was by an old ache that had never fully healed, “Not your fault, learned from my mistakes anyway. I try to keep some things from old loves.”

Dream turned his attention from his friend to the artwork proudly displayed in his living room. There was little else of note in the room that Dream could guess at having belonged to someone other than Hob. To hold such value in Hob’s heart, the relationship must have meant a great deal to the immortal. The dark thing in Dream’s chest thrashed its tail more, a growl growing deep within it. It unsettled him how the fact of this relationship could upset him so.

“You loved him dearly, to keep his works in your home,” Dream pointed out.

“I did. We parted well, not always the case. Plus his work is beautiful, not really a hardship to hang it up,” Hob admitted with ease, why wouldn’t he. Why was Dream expecting him to hide his love affairs as though they were something to be ashamed of? He never had. Nor should he have to hide them. But it still set him on edge, a strange anger bubbling under the surface.

“You do not keep the trinkets of others here, just his,” Dream said and even he could hear the coldness of his tone, the accusation he had no right to lay out.

Hob appeared oblivious to this new mood as he sipped his own tea, “I try to keep with the fashion of the times. Minimalism is a hard one to shake, glad we’ve moved on from the white interiors, right pain to keep those clean. Clutter’s coming back in so I’ll probably bring some more stuff out of storage, not everything mind you, some of it’s too fragile. These are prints, good way to have him here without wrecking his originals.”

“How long were you together?”

“Only a few years, I didn’t stay in America long, England’s home for me,” Hob smiled fondly, though for the memories of his former lover or of his homeland Dream couldn’t guess. A voice within him that sounded too close to his siblings whispered spiteful things he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Such a short time, yet a lasting impact,” Dream said, aiming for an aloof air and knowing he fell short by quite a distance.

“I seem to have a fondness for the quiet brooding ones,” Hob teased a touch tentatively as though worried he had a right to tease Dream anymore. 

“You found him not long after our parting,” Dream surmised and he wished he could take back the words as Hob’s face dropped into something colder at the reminder.

“You mean after you threw a tantrum and ran out on me making me think I’d never see you again?” Hob reiterated as he left Dream’s side to flop down on the overstuffed sofa. His absence left a cold bitter wind in its wake and Dream shrunk just a little into the folds of his coat.

“I have apologised -“

“And I have accepted that, as I hope you will accept the fact that I needed more than one friend that I only saw every hundred years,” Hob pointed out and the truth of his words irked Dream. He was right as he had been in the White Horse Inn all those decades ago. It didn’t appear it was getting easier to accept that he wasn’t always right. 

“I do not begrudge you your friendships,” Dream said, settling down into one of the armchairs, it hugged him and pulled him in. He shouldn’t be surprised by such comforts. Hob was a hedonistic creature, greedy for life and all it offered. His home reflected that in a way, comfort and warmth in equal measure. A sanctuary against the ever changing world that he could retreat too.

“But my lovers?”

Dream paused too long before offering a begrudging, “…nor them.”

Hob appeared unconvinced, rightly so, “Joseph was a good man, we loved each other.”

“I am glad,” Dream said, a pale offering that landed as heavy and as welcome as a brick.

“You hate him,” Hob said, lips twitching in amusement.

“I do not -“

“Calliope isn’t my favourite muse,” Hob interrupted and it was such a sudden change of subject that it took Dream a moment to process the absurdity of the statement.

“You dislike Calliope?” Dream asked slowly as though ensuring he had heard Hob correctly. Hob nodded.

“For the same reason you want to burn my art prints,” he explained and clarity snapped into place like a missing jigsaw piece.

“I do not wish to burn them,” Dream attempted to defend but it was a weak attempt.

“No?” Hob asked, almost laughing.

“…Perhaps replace them,” Dream admitted in a whisper he wouldn’t repeat if asked.

Hob heard him though, he seemed keenly aware of Dream in a way few were. He leant forward, elbows on his knees, as he fixed Dream with a warm, hopeful look. Dream suspected they had moved on from discussing art prints, “You can’t replace them. Any of them really. But you can join them if you’d like.”