#my eyes are barely even open my vision is blurry but I know where the keys are by heart

[precious-little-scoundrel]

The kids aren’t alright

Summary: Ida wakes up and takes stock

October 1943

Requested? ✅ 18+ mature (thematic material)

Warnings: a lot of bodily injuries mentioned, way too much use of vomiting sorry, mentions of an intentional dog bite, past references to sexual abuse, very brief mention of an object being used to rape someone…if you read that sentence? it’s about that bad, I tried to keep it vague

When Ida woke for the first time, well and truly and fully, it was to the feeling of muggy warmth and a comforting snugness pressing to her chest. Her body ached but only in the way that suggested that moving would make it far worse, and so she tried to remain still, clock her surroundings, its smells and noises and the likely extent of her injuries by pain alone. Her cheek hurt the worst, a raw sort of agony that increased with each breath until she switched to inhaling through her mouth to make it stop, her right rib smarted in the way of an open cut, and her mind scrambled to supply a cause for this, quicker than it had for her cheek. Most sluggishly it tried to alert her to the all encompassing throb of her pelvis, a pain too intense and easily provoked by thought alone that she summarily shoved it down for the time being.

She would try to open her eyes, and then move off her cheek, and if that was possible, only then perhaps could she shift her hips. Her lower belly felt as if filled with glass shards, and if she were to jostle them, they might begin slitting her open anew. Take a peak Ida, she told herself, see where you are, see who is near.

With that plan of action barely in place, Ida willed an eyelid open.

Foggy sunlight filtered in, wether the window pane was filthy or the weather overcast she could not discern, but there was a blurry expanse of lumber before her and as things began to slot in place she recognized the camp. Not the horrid one, no, the stalag, the prisoner of war camp -she had made it, they had all made it. Almost all, that poor corporal and her warm brains hadn’t. The nurse either. Forsyth either.

There were bunks and lumber and a fuzzy stack of dishes and someone moving in a chair at a hulking object that was likely a table.

She held her breath, hoping her vision might clear if the smarting of her cheek would stop, and in response the arms that seemed to be bracing her together squeezed all the tighter. She let out a grunt of pain at it and moved her frozen hand to tap at the large paw interlaced over her sternum.

She really shouldn't be able to guess its owner so accurately considering the professional nature of the relationship they shared, yet she could: "I see you decided to join us, Egan." she rasped, throat feeling made of sandpaper.

The iron tight grip spasmed in response before loosening. "Oh hell Ida,” Bucky sighed heavily behind her, “scared me, ya stopped breathin’, -thought you were dead there for a minute."

"So you already took over my bunk?" she was passibly amused by his presumption, it was too relieving that he was even alive.

Whoever was at the table rose and came nearer.

"No,” Bucky countered firmly, “I didn't want them to find you cold and take your body away."

That was touching. And like him. She must’ve been in poor shape. "Bucky, you've got the heart of a child."

The figure from the table stooped over her and the back of a gentle hand she’d know anywhere, ran along her hairline, “Hey.” her brother greeted softly and Ida felt a sudden burn to her eyes at the relief of seeing his cherished face and feeling his doting touch. She knew she had met him, reunited with him here, but it was such a blur and she had no idea how long she’d been out for. It hit her now, Johnny and Bucky had her. She was alright, and so were they.

“Jack.” she croaked to him, trying to kiss his knuckles in sheer gratitude to their creator for allowing them both a little longer together. “Johnny you- you’re ok? And you’ve got legs.” she reaffirmed to herself and he laughed in agreement, watery and happy.

“Yeah,” he got to his knees by her bunk so they might be at eye level, his grin the homiest thing she’d ever seen, “all in one piece. God, it’s good to see you awake, Ida. You ok? Want some water?”

She could manage a nod but was loathe to let go of him, Johnny only managed to laughingly extract himself after he’d kissed her forehead twice over and “-jug is just on the table, I’m not going far-“

“Is everyone alright?” she asked of them both as he went to fetch it, tracing over the broken skin of Egan’s knuckles, the one part of him she could see without shifting. She wondered how he’d gotten here, how long after. “Everyone? My girls are -are my girls ok?”

“All settled, all fine.” Johnny assured her as he kneeled back down, tin cup filled with the brackish camp water they’d taken to filtering through an undershirt. It was the best they had to offer. “Cleven’s got all sorts of measures in place, there’s been no trouble.”

“How long?” She sighed in relief, trying to find the strength to lift her head and take a sip. “How long have I been out?” Her girls had needed her and she’d crashed on them, they’d asked for bunks and remedies and they’d barely managed a shower before she’d abandoned them for her bed.

“Almost two weeks, Eye Eye.” Johnny whispered as if that blunted the news, Ida startled predictably and Bucky Egan made a soothing sound like she were a pet to be calmed. “You need to drink.” Johnny observed practically in reference to the timeframe and she supposed he was right and let him help tilt her jaw and bring the rim to her lips, Bucky’s hand came up from somewhere in back to prop up her heavy head.

As thirsty as she was, the bitter tang of metallic water was not at all what she had dreamed of when it first sloshed against her lips. She forced gulp after gulp of it down, grateful for it and all too reminiscent of recent times without, but it was revolting. No sooner had she pulled away to gain some upper hand on the rising nausea than she felt the surging of bile instead, faster than she could process, much less tamp down.

Something in her face must’ve shown as her observant brother tumbled backward on the floor with a flailing hand that grasped for any receptacle available, right as she wheezed out a warning “bucket!”

Her face felt horrible, and her stomach hated the rough and involuntary movements that puking required. Ida groaned weakly between bouts but it kept coming -the urge that is, after the water came up there was nothing else besides bile. Johnny had managed to grab something, although Ida was too preoccupied vomiting and keening in agony to notice what. She puked in the general direction of his lap and hoped for the best, the grounding feeling of his hand cupping her battered cheek the only thing tethering her in the pain.

For a moment Ida had the displaced thought that her brother was helping hold back her hair. But the feel of his fingertips against the lacerations on her tender scalp reminded her she hadn’t any. And that memory brought another wave of revulsion and she wretched all the harder. She was in this state, in this much plain, out cold for two weeks because of what those men had done to her. Oh god, did everyone know what they had done to her—

“Breathe, you’ve got to breathe.” Egan was gripping her chest again and it made it worse except now she could feel herself shaking and that brief, spiraling moment of numbness began to dissipate and she almost mourned it as the pain returned and she sobbed into her next retch. “That’s it, that’s it, shitty water is all, Johnny’s gonna get you some sparkling, aren’t ya Johnny? Yeah, yeah breathe Ida, breathe.”

She had to stop sobbing. It was pathetic at this point, she was perfectly safe now and all that harmed her was a little brackish water and a sour stomach. She breathed as told and blinked the water out of her eyes. “Johnny, that's a damn plate.” she scolded, now noticing what he’d grabbed, “I said a bucket.”

Johnny smiled back ruefully, “Wasn't one close.”

“Now you've got -I’ve made a mess of you,” she cried, contrite herself, “that’s disgusting.”

Johnny shrugged and set the full plate aside, brave face in place despite the gnarly nature of the incident. “Seen worse.”

Ida just stared at his lap and the odd pattern of criss cross stitches on his trouser seams and the rusty stains all along them. What had they done- “Johnny your pants-“ she didn’t even notice the way she tried to rise in her agitation until Bucky’s firm hand came again from the back like the spectral arm of God and pushed her down once again. “What did they do to you?” she was back to numb at the horror of it and this time she didn’t like it.

John Brady stared at her and then back to his lap before jerking with horrified realization, “No, no these -these are yours.” he rushed, utterly unsure that was actually a comfort, wishing in fact that they were his and he’d have borne their significance for her, “I gave you mine while we mended yours. Now they’ve got vomit on ‘em too.” he tried to grin, to make the joke they were his work pants now, best used for the grittier duties in camp, an eyesore no matter what and rather talked of. He preferred to be the one wearing them, the one talked of instead of her, it was all untrue speculation in that case and the guards’ taunts were empty and without real history while he wore them. “These are yours.”

“You two lanky lil shits.” Bucky mumbled to break the tension. “Not an ounce of butter fat on either of you.”

“Are you done puking?” Johnny asked her conversationally.

“I think.” she muttered.

“Ok, put your head back down. Can’t keep holding your cheek.”

“Don’t have to,” she protested even as she lay back down, face on fire by the lack of incline, “the hell is wrong with it?” she groaned.

“The doc says your cheekbone’s broken.” Egan supplied.

A flash of a table rising up too fast and her cheek slammed down against it, of a hand in her hair and a man, one of many strong and large men, pressing down on her head over and over, the pressure on her face too strong and finally making way with a sickening give just like other places had given way when they— Ida felt like retching again but for Johnny’s sake she was glad nothing more came up, although his hand was back to holding her cheek together.

“The recommendation was not to exert the facial muscles.” Johnny snarked.

Ida willed her mind away, “Noted.” and began to wonder at how this camp worked, “What sorta doctor?” it seemed odd no one had hauled her off for two whole weeks, not to a grave and not to surgery. Maybe not that odd, Egan had been in her bunk. And Cleven would have never let them. But she’d have never allowed so many things and yet -they happened all the same.

“There’s that med student pilot from the 418th,” Egan told her, “everyone calls him doc around here since we haven’t got any medics. Shitty oversight in the air, fatal on the ground. It’s him or camp doctor, and we didn’t want him gettin’ curious over you.”

“Major Cleven wouldn’t let them take you.” Johnny told her what she already suspected and Ida felt like smiling despite the way it hurt her cheek.

“Everyone’s really alright?” she asked once more.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine.” her bother swore, “Except for you, you’re our biggest worry.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t use that tone with me.”

“Then don’t lie.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but you’re not currently fine.”

“You and your distinctions.”

“You and the pants you’ve worn for two weeks.”

Ida gaped, knowing and loving his sharp tongue but having missed it all the same, “Well that’s -that’s low, Jack.”

“I’ll get Smith in.” he decided after sharing a look with Bucky over her shoulder, she wished she could see Egan’s face, something made her suspect foul play beyond boredom for him to be in her bunk. “You haven’t stopped -bleeding.” he winced, wether in sympathy or in discomfort over the topic, she could only guess it was both.

“Well get me up, sit me up.” she asked first, her curiosity regarding her own damage growing and she didn’t need dear Tallulah to see her freshly puked and still lying like a corpse. She could sit up if she was going to remain conscious. “It’ll make the cheek feel better.” She cajoled her brother in the most effective manner -logic- and so he assisted her to sit up against the slats.

“Bucket.” she warned again because her vision was spotting and her stomach rose at the painful change in position but it felt good to be up, and Johnny handed her an actual bucket to dry heave over. The irony was not lost on her.

When the feeling passed she found she was looking down at Egan, that he hadn’t moved with her and he still lay on his side, garish green bruise around his eye and a grimacing smile stretching that still pristine mustache. Well, it needed some trimming at the corners, her fingers itched to straighten them. “Ribs are a little cracked.” he offered in explanation before she could ask.

“Yeah he’s not supposed to move much.” Her Johnny expounded and Ida didn’t doubt this was a source of much argument between them, she could tell by the familiar, bitchy tone and the look Johnny gave his superior, one just short of wry enough to get him court martialed. Ida realized with sudden sobriety that she would be stuck in close proximity with this duo for the foreseeable future.

Mother Mary give her grace.

“Where do you pee?” she asked, it was a decent segue and it was also a pressing issue, mounting over even the horrible ache down there.

“Uh,” Johnny floundered for a minute, “pretty loose around here but -there are latrines.” Ida could picture the sheer amount of pissing against stumps and combines that likely occurred here instead, “You’re not walking there, not today. We’ve got buckets, girls use those mainly.”

Ida stared at the bucket clutched in her arms, still there in case of another upset. Right, alright. Buckets.

“Brady, get Smith.” Egan directed helpfully and her brother roused himself and went out into the hall.

Ida waited until the sound of his footfalls faded thoroughly before bringing her hand down to rest on Bucky’s shining forehead, he felt feverish, or maybe it was only oily. “How is he?” she asked. “Really, Bucky, how is he handling it all?”

“He’s a champ.” Bucky replied levelly, before giving her a gentle look, “A champ who’s cried a few times. I’ve been giving him too much trouble to ask him what he thinks about having a battered sister, if that’s what you mean. But he’s ok, you know him. He’s okey.”

“Alright.” she muttered, staring down at her lap, noticing the stains she’d made on his trousers. Poor Jack, she didn’t know how she could bear it if it were the other way around.

Bucky waited a beat before adding softly, “He asked me what to tell your parents.”

That startled her, the idea of letters, of news, of more than anyone here knowing, “What did you-?”

“I told him to tell them you’re alive.” he answered and she took a great breath, “And that you two were together. The facts of the matter.”

Well that was another kindness. “Thanks.” she managed.

“Hey, you just worry about gettin’ better.” He charged her, hand nudging gently under her chin, mindful of the bruises.

She gave him a grin despite her cheek protesting, “Back at ya, Egan.”

“Race ya?” he suggested.

“Race to what?”

“To the latrines. Whoever can get fit fastest wins. I’m sick to fuckin’ death of pissing in a can he wants to hold like I’m past ninety and should be put out to pasture -now you’re awake it’s gonna be even funner.”

Ida thought about asking if he’d really been relieving himself in bed beside her, to ask who’d been cleaning her in the meantime, but some familiarity was best left mysterious and the stomping sounds of approaching persons made her pause.

“Great, he brought a crowd.” Bucky muttered without heat and sure enough, Smith came skidding in like Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, and behind her Johnny, Cleven and Graham.

“Ta-daa.” Ida vocalized weakly, feeling mildly possessed by the spirit of Kendeigh to make a drama of it all -it was only that they looked so ridiculously hopeful and small crowding the doorway like that.

Gale slapped the doorframe and buried his face in the crook of his arm, something like a rough laugh coming out, “I’ll be damned.”

“Well Graham, you’ve seen her breathing, go, come on go, we asked for Smith.” Bucky good naturedly snapped his fingers dismissively.

“Good to see you Graham.” Ida called to her poor Co-Pilot who was fast not to loiter.

Tallulah Smith gently crept up to her bunk and sank to her knees beside her, sweet face still a little mottled but the old pearl white smile in place. Missing a tooth. A jolt of heartache ran through her— “Ida.”

“Hey old thing.” Ida smiled back, or tried.

“God it’s good to see -to see you.” Smith settled for before dropping her face to kiss Ida’s unwashed hands. Poor kid, Ida was sure Cleven was looking after her but he didn’t know the half of it. All these weeks she was needed and Ida had failed her.

“Hey, hey you guys get me up, I’m getting cramp.” Bucky hollered to Brady and Buck.

“You’re not supposed to move Bucky-“

“Johnny -I’m not going on a goddamn journey. I just wanna walk in the hall and piss on the doorframe like everyone else. C’mon get me up.”

Ida and Smith crouched further into the bed to allow Egan to lumber over them with the help of their friends, a painful, grunting business that suggested his leg was busted along with his ribs. He was leaving to give the girls privacy, Ida knew it, and perhaps her brother had picked up on it as he stopped protesting and shouldered his weight uncomplaining.

“See you dolls later.” he saluted as they dragged him out.

It was bizarre to have the room to themselves when the door shut. The door had a window, and that gave Ida the creeps but it couldn’t be helped.

“They aren’t going out, they’ll stand watch.” Smith whispered assuringly as if she could read Ida’s mind. “We’re all in this combine with just one’s from the 100th. Cleven insisted. I don’t know how he gets half of what he gets done but he’s been so good to us.”

Ida stared at her hands intertwined with Lu’s and nodded gently, never doubting that would be the case. She just worried for him, she hoped it meant their guards were fair, or at least the commandant. But she recalled Cleven saying he’d stayed clear of the fellow, kept his head down, not sought attention -until the girls came, now he no doubt made himself familiar. It made her pulse pound in worry for him. She hoped the commander was fair, that was the whole point of getting to a stalag.

“And you?” Ida asked, knowing that of everyone, Smith was perhaps the only one who’d like to be asked.

She watched the girl perk up, brave cheerfulness fluttering across her features, no less genuine for all that it was forced, “I’m ok. It’s easier here but I can’t sleep much, and I’m so scared it’s going to happen again. There’s dogs everywhere.”

Ida winced at that. “Cleven won’t let that happen.” she insisted gently, “You stick with who he puts you with and if they don’t stick with you then you tell him, he’ll get someone else. Really Smith, speak up.”

“Ok.” she muttered, “It’s been Murph or Crank so far, they’re never away.”

“Good.”

“It’s just-“ Smith’s deep brown eyes grew watery and Ida braced, “-what can they do? If the Germans really wanna? What can they actually do about it? I don’t think -oh Ida I don’t think I could take it, the way they did it in front of you -I couldnt take it, not in front of our boys. I’d wanna die this time, I would. I’d wanna die.”

It hurt, the heavy pressure of Smith’s face buried in Ida’s wounded belly, but the poor girl was suddenly sobbing and Ida impulsively ran her fingers through oily black strands, humming gently and ineffectively. What was there to say about that? What could she say to that? “Everyone here would die before watching that, Lu.” was all she could come up with, but it was true as truth could be. “And they can’t shoot up a whole stalag, they can’t,” she went on, it was soothing to hear herself spout such ephimerally comforting bulshit, “so, if they tried, that’s a dead end. Not gonna happen ever again, Smith, it won’t. We won’t let it.”

Smith turned her head, looking not a day older than her eighteen years and smiled back, soft and sad, “Ok.” she accepted, and Ida knew it was more for her benefit than real belief, “I just worry someone is gonna still have to-“ she quieted down in frustration with herself, “-sorry I’m so glum.”

Ida squeezed her hands strongly, “No, no, you’re right. It’s very uneasy, and it will be for as long as we’re on this side of our lines. What were you saying?”

Smith bit her lip thoughtfully before quietly confessing, “I worry someone else may still have to. The guards aren’t as bad but they seem -I’m paranoid, I know. But I also -oh Ida, I shouldn’t say. He said I shouldn’t say but-“ she was back near to crying.

“Telling your senior officer is like telling a priest.” Ida reasoned softly, teasingly, “There is no harm and there is no record.”

“I’m Baptist.” Smith laughed.

“Unburden yourself, my child.” Ida insisted, mouth wry with sad humor. “That’s an order, Lu.”

“It’s Major Cleven.” Smith got right to it, “I’m afraid someone hurt him. The way they hurt us. Before we got here. And I’m worried if that person is here, I’m worried that- I’m worried that it’ll be someone, if not me again, it’ll be someone else.”

“You’re not paranoid.” Ida muttured, cold dread seeping in along with fury, she counted to five before asking as casually as she was capable, “When he told you not to tell, what -what all did he say?”

“Not much, really,” Tallulah admitted with frustration, “it’s just he came to check on me, first night in and we were alone in the hall and I told him a little, since he asked, he’s always so kind and he was kind then. But he told me he understood, and then right away it was like he regretted it. Saying that, you know? And I asked him, if they’d hurt him like that and -h-he was so shaken by it, and he told me I shouldn’t ever talk like that. He didn’t said no, he just kept saying I couldn’t say that. About him.”

Ida felt her stomach plummet and she clutched at the bucket as if there was anything left to puke up.

“Ida I’m sorry- I should've waited.” Tallulah fretted at her agitation.

“No!” Ida’s voice came stronger than even she expected, “No you’re right to tell me. I’m his officer too, you know. You’re right to tell me.” she repeated before trying to straighten herself, make Smith look her in the eyes, “And now, Lieutenant, I need you to let this go, alright? Really, you’ve done the right thing now, give it over, let it go. He might not have meant that, might’ve meant anything, really. Try not to dwell on it. Any of it, if you can.”

Smith rubbed her hand beneath her nose gruffly while murmuring a “yessir.” She was back to smiling when the hand descended. “Now, what can I help with?” she asked, cheered at the chance of lending aid.

“I need to pee.”

“Oh gosh, sorry-“ Smith laughed at herself and her poor timing for a confession.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Ida joined in, “This is going to hurt like hell, I do believe.”

Smith winced in sympathy, “Yeah, still hurts for me.”

“No, truly?” Ida mourned through gritted teeth, depending on Smith’s arms to scootch to the edge of the threadbare mattress.

“Yeah. A little better after a week but not, it’s just -it’s stayed since. You’re still bleeding, though.”

Ida stared down at her bloodied crotch. “Yes.” she hissed, “I’d like to -take a look. Any mirror: in here?”

“No sir. Sorry.”

“Anyone else bleeding like this?”

“No one besides Kendeigh, got her period.” Smiths cheeks turned pink at the mention of normality.

“Ah, small mercies.”

“Yes. Try telling her that, sir.”

“Have you gotten yours, Lu?”

“No sir.” Pinker still under that dusky brown.

“Mm.”

“I could check?”

“What?”

“I could be your mirror.” Smith clarified, sheepishly as she got Ida up, arm around her neck, her officer about crumpling at the pain of standing.

Ida grimaced again at the mere notion. “Bit above your pay grade.”

“I’m a lieutenant.” Smith shook her head proudly before adding, “Besides -nothing I haven’t seen on the farm.”

“Oh thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Joking, Smith, I’m joking.”

“Oh. Ha.”

“I’d not be so concerned,” Ida went on, shuffling towards the bucket in the corner of the room where it sat between two bunks, “if I didn’t suspect a little -tearing.” she muttered, humiliation burning her cheek and adding to the throb. “There was a, uh-“ god, she shouldn’t tell a subordinate this but they hadn’t any mirrors, “there was a knife. And, I-i- think they, it wasn’t the blade but the handle and it -still it felt like…Well, everything got even worse after that.”

“Oh Ida.” Smith whimpered in compassion.

“Oh stop it, you of all people don’t need to feel bad for me.” Ida squeezed her shoulder, the one supporting her weight. “It’s just I really don’t know what to expect. What’s normal. Yes? To bleed is normal, we always hear that but. How long, how much, you know? My brother seems to think it’s too much. How would he know?” she snickered briefly before ceasing at the sight of Smith’s solemn face. Ida was reminded of when she’d first met her as a little recruit, keen eyed and perceptive in training, Tallulah Smith had been so freshly out of the nest she’d delightedly blown up her standard issued rubbers and tossed them around their hut, charmed by the army’s thoughtfulness to provide balloons along with toothbrushes. Not even the worst of the cads had said a thing to dissuade her and Benny DeMarco had followed suit, even going so far as to lie that he’d been additionally given bubbles since he was more senior.

When the day came that Bucky had pinned Smith her single bar on her jacket, he handed her a tube of bubbles, too.

Five weeks before it all went to hell.

Now Smith wore a shy little look, one Ida remembered well from when she’d had to break it to the girl what the damn balloons were really for. Today, if it were anyone else, Ida would have ignored that look.

“What do you want to ask?” She called her out.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Smith helped her fumble with her belt buckle, trousers loose and low on her waist, not even Johnny’s trim figure a match for the weight Ida had lost in her convalescence. “Was this-“ Ida could only see Smith’s eyebrows and the beautiful flat bridge of her proud nose, “-was this your first, too?”

Ida had never once felt shame, inadequacy, anything other than a natural state over her own purity. It was a conscious decision and a matter of habit, she might have disposed of her virginity had she wished but she never had, never saw fit, never felt the lack of knowing. There were handsome men, and if they were worth the loss of her convictions, her standing and self respect, she might have enjoyed hopping on them as her baser first instincts suggested. As is, she had not, and life had felt perfectly fine and full without that knowledge. One day, she had told herself, maybe one day there’d be someone right and worthy and fitting. Suddenly it felt so very embarrassing to have known nothing more than this, to pretend authority and yet not even know this intimate response of her own body. She could still hear the disbelieving glee of the guards at the same realization.

A female colonel. Who was a virgin. What a lark.

Yet if it served to comfort Smith? Provide some solidarity not even Maureen’s brazen bravery could supply? Ida meant to give it her. “Yes, my first. I’ve never done anything of the sort before.” it served to be plain, to be thorough.

She was rewarded with the lifting of Lu’s face, mournful shyness fading into relief before compassion flickered again. “How do you want me to look?”

Ida ended up propping a foot up on an adjacent bunk, slacks around her ankles, face buried in her elbow as Smith crouched with veterinary efficiency and peeled her apart down there. Ida stifled an involuntary whimper into her fist, not so much from pain as the jolting feeling of that area being touched again.

“I honestly can’t tell much.” Smith sighed, standing up again and it took Ida a good long minute to regain enough composure to pull her face out of her elbow and meet her eyes. Smith wasn’t looking at her anyway, “It’s bloody. But not a lot. I can’t tell about tearing, not on the outside at least.”

“Alright.”

“Here, let me help you squat.” Smith was at the ready with strong arms for Ida to squat over the bucket and do her business, as best she could between sobs at the pain of urinating with some much adjacent damage.

“Are Kendeigh’s hands alright?” Ida thought to ask once Smith had helped pull her up. Piss and blood swirled at the bottom of the metal pail, it turned Ida’s stomach, a foreign queasiness having seemingly settled over her.

“I had to set a few fingers,” Smith replied, “Hammy helped me. But the swelling is going down.”

“Good.” Ida muttured, redoing her belt with Lu’s help, “Now,” she stalled the girl, “how’s the bite mark?”

Smith’s bronze face flushed darker. No doubt she hoped Ida had forgotten, no such luck -Ida expected to replay that scene a million times in her nightmares for the rest of her life.

“Your brother got us penicillin.” Lu rushed to assure her.

“Did he?”

“Yes!”

“How nice. Shots?”

“Yes.” Smith smiled brilliantly, “The boys they’ve -they’ve been so wonderful.”

“Excellent.” Ida agreed.

“Major Cleven said we could-“ Smith’s eyes fluttered aside, “-could get sick from the guards. I didn’t know but -he said the shots would help.”

Ida clasped her arm soothingly, squeezing it until the girl’s eyes came back to life, “He’s right. Good to take precautions. What've they said about the bite?

No answer came. Of course the girl hadn’t even told them. Ida could curse herself for falling asleep so long on the job.

“How’s the bite, Lu?” she insisted on being answered.

Smith sighed, defeated, “It’s -a little festered.”

“How much is a little?” Ida quirked a brow. “C’mon, show me.”

Lu begrudgingly undid her buttons and pulled the placard aside, showing the deep imprint of a canine bite to her breast. Partly healed but angry and hot to touch, Ida suspected it strongly. At least it didn’t smell. “Have you been seen for this?” she asked once more.

Smith shook her head. “They say the doctor is not good.”

“How’d Jack get penicillin then?”

“Well -I don’t know. But he told me never to go.”

Ida resigned herself to feeling perpetually on the verge of emptying her guts in this place. “You either need more or some sulfer, I’d say, but then, I’m no doctor.”

“The boys have been wonderful!” Lu reaffirmed as if that changed anything while refastening her shirt. Ida shuffled back to the bed and sat herself down too fast, wanting to let rip a scream at the pain. “Gale looks after us and Jack gets the medicines and Bucky has been so watchful even from bed and Crank and Murph -I told you how they’ve been so good to me.”

Ida summoned a smile for the girl. The things she was concerned about were an officer's concerns, it was right for Smith to be soothed by stuff like this, it was right she be taken good care of. Whatever it cost the men, whatever it cost her brother. She forced her smile to stay in place. “Good.” Ida confirmed assuringly, “I’m glad to hear it. As they should be. You know that, don’t you? They should be good to you, and it’s not too much to expect that they should.” she let that sink in a minute before adding her point, “Some men aren't, and that’s why we're here in the first place. -And, personally, I like to think about how many of those scumbags we’ve turned to crisps, you and I. Job well done, mm?”

Smith grinned back, “Yes sir, job well done.”

“Mm, alright, now you go get Gale Cleven for me.”

“Sir.” Lu seemed torn, half alarmed.

“I’m not going to broach that topic, I need medicines.” Ida gave her a warning look, too much questioning on her sick bed and she’d turn into nothing more impressive than a half starved woman with no rank.

“Yes sir. I’ll get him sir.”

“And when you’ve fetched him,” Ida went on, “Go make certain Bucky is off his ribs. No baseball, no big movements, not even to retell a story. Got it?”

“I got it.”

“Alright, off you go. And Smith,” she added when the girl was near the door, “thank you, for the care. And speak up, alright? When you need something, speak up.”

Smith ducked her head sheepishly, nodding in obedience, “Sir.”

It would seem Ida needed a word with Gale Cleven regarding tough little lieutenants with a tendency for sepsis.

A solitary set of footsteps broke the eerie silence left after Smith's departure. Ida took stock of the room as best she could, who seemed to be bunking with them, what clutter was on the shelves, that the dishes were indeed stacked as she imagined on waking. She heard the rap of his knuckles on the door frame before the lanky line of him sauntered in, hand on the overhead plank, just looking at her pleased and a little mischievous. Gosh he was a sight for sore eyes and a heart aching one all at once. Where he’d once been golden and blooming, he was as gray as his shirt. How would they fare in winter if they started autumn so sallow?

“Major Gale Cleven, reporting for duty.” he teased, somber gray eyes lit up boyishly like they did when he wanted to be taken at the jokes’ value.

Ida grinned back at him as best she could with her broken cheek, “Bucky not follow you?”

“Nah,” Cleven came in, picking a chair up by its slatted back and bringing it to her bedside, straddled it, “he heard I was called for. He’s plagued you enough.” Nothing dimmed that fond smile despite the exasperated words.

“Cannot believe he took over my bunk.” Ida observed.

Gale’s smile fell. “Really didn’t know if you were gonna make it, Ida.” he insisted gently, firmly. “Are ya now?”

Ida wanted to chuckle, feeling more horrible than she knew she could but after all this time she wasn’t going to die on him now. Not now she knew how needed she was. Remained needed. How much he’d endured, possibly, she had to remember it was only possible. “I’m sticking around.” she affirmed, and his smile came back, dimmer but still there. “And you?” she asked, not expecting the truth but she had to try.

The upbeat grin that painted his face was worthy of an Oscar. “Fine. Much better to see you alive, John too. Both of you been out for ages.”

“Sorry about that.” she feared more and more what burdens he had to bear alone, and what precedent that set for the remainder of their time here. Once Gale Cleven had shouldered a responsibility, he wasn’t one to delegate, even if overtaxed. “How is the commandant? Smith has told me what you’ve achieved.”

Cleven’s face wore an expression of pleasant surprise as if he were relaying pleasant findings for the first time, “Most decent German I’ve met.” His tone held such genuine relief that Ida had to believe him. “Supplies are scarce. They've shot enough of us down in short enough order it’s all a bit much for the Red Cross.” he let that dismal statistic hang for a brief moment before rallying, “But he’s fair, shares my low opinion of his subordinates. No real incidents but, they leer and they’re harsh. No girls can go out alone, I’ve laid the order down. Been no harm.”

Ida observed him, familiar chubby cheeked crinkling with what seemed genuine pleasantness, and she had gotten rather genius at deciphering that boyish face after years of training and laconic friendship. “What does he want in return?” she asked.

“Order.” Gale had an answer right away, “He’s got a massive thing going here, he wants order and he wants no complaints about females. So, I want the girls accompanied -he wants them accompanied. It works.”

Maybe there was honor among villains after all. “Good. How’s Maureen?”

Gale bit his lip before shrugging, “Alright, settling in, getting everyone else settled. We got shots for everyone and she’s had us cleaning the place, fussing about wintertime and how all the water to mop will freeze up then. Hands aren’t back fully.” he paused for a brief moment before glancing up, shyly, “You got any explanation for those?”

No more than he had given for his cuts. “She’s told you. As much as she’s told me. I don’t think anyone hasn’t got a story. Or ten.”

“Bucky’s having trouble with that.” It was a comment, not a warning or a complaint.

She might’ve guessed. “And my brother? He proving of any use?”

Gale’s pale skin seemed to color at that and his eyes skittered to the side, briefly, before he recalled himself, “He’s a damn bulldog with a task. Been -been real essential.”

“With the doctor I hear.” Ida ventured, “Smith told me.” and Gale nodded in understanding, “She also told me she’d been warned never to go herself. Which brings up a few issues.”

“Colonel?” Gale frowned at her like something she said was puzzling.

“I’ve got girls who need to see a doctor. Should be in the infirmary -hell I oughta be.”

Cleven just shook his head, “They tolerate the girls here, so long as you’re not anything more than a number. Ida, we can’t attract attention that way. We got shots, Johnny’ll get more. He’ll get -Anything.”

“And how’s Johnny gonna get ‘anything’ for me, mm?”

Cleven didn’t have an answer for that, he just looked terribly tired. “Tell us, we’ll get it but I can’t condone lettin’ a woman go there.”

Ida tried to settle her stomach, a laundry list of worries a mile long had begun to arrange themselves in her mind and by the size of Cleven’s eyebags, he carried them too. She had to prioritize, if only she wasn’t so very tired and practically an invalid. “Then I need your promise to be tenacious in the care of someone who ought’ve been in hospital weeks ago.”

He cocked his head to the side, alarm at the unknown flitting across his face, he looked her up and down as if anticipating she would name herself.

“Smith has what looks like a raging infection.” Ida stated.

Well that got him startled, confused and a little irate. His blue eyes widened, “Looks like.” he repeated. “-where? From what?”

“And she’s not told a soul.” Ida observed with an eyebrow that only slightly accused, it was lethal enough on Gale’s frail morale, “As she’s a stubborn thing and also -shy.”

Gale knew Lu to be both. He had taken pains to ask after her the night she came in with that express suspicion in mind. “I asked her.” He swore.

“She says she asked you the same.” Ida bounced the hypothetical tennis ball right back, quite casually she thought, and Gale gave her a wary, unreadable look. There went that topic for the present, Smith had to come first. “No, this is a dog bite. More like a maul, a gash, it’s horrid.”

“What?” The chair under Gale creaked from his irate posture. “They let loose a dog on her!”

“Set.” Ida corrected, straight mouth going even sourer, “They set a dog on her. Now it’s hot and pink and awful. Since she didn’t tell a soul and no one noticed somehow.”

“I-I-“ Gale wasn’t in a fluster to defend himself, Ida knew him better than to think that, he was merely in some disbelief at the cruelty, “I- gave her a shot, in the hip. Didn’t see-“

“It’s her breast, Gale.” Ida gently interjected, “Reasonable not for her to be eager to show. But it must’ve been stubborn pride or some assumption of a better lot that had her keeping it from Maureen.”

Gale took to pinching the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick Ida knew well, and it served to steady his hand, pinch away a budding migraine and hide the tell-tale windows of his eyes. “They set a dog on her -on her, to- and it tore her?” he couldn’t even get it out and she felt for him.

But he had the right of it. “Yes. And it needs something. Sulfer ointment? I don’t know. It’s why a doctor would be preferred. It could get septic-“

“I know damnit!” Gale still shaded eyes from her as his voice shook. “Why didn’t she-“ it trailed off, weary and rough.

Ida pursed her lips and swallowed back a dozen things she wanted to say: apologies and reassurances, demands that he tell her what he himself had endured. “I’m sorry you’ve got so much to be done.” she offered instead, mildly and with some gentleness she hoped she’d retained. “I’m sure Kendeigh will be a great help with this. I only ask you keep after Smith about it-“

“-I don’t mind the work.” Gale lifted his hand at last and his eyes were red rimmed, “You know I don’t mind the work.”

“No.” she agreed. It was only the sort of work. It was the hapless, thankless, hopeless work of piecing together friends who had been intentionally smashed to bits by a handful of demons. It was never about the work. “And you are to bring as much of it to me as you can. That’s an order, Major.” At least that got her a small smile, a conceding nod, “And I have my spies, you know.”

“Oh I know.”

“I can’t wait to be about. Help with it all.”

“Just try’n live Ida, if you can.” Gale laughed, short and clipped, “Seemed a lot to ask of ya just last night. Don’t wanna push my luck.”

“I’ve ordered you to push your luck.” she reminded. “And now, don’t you think it’s time we stop Bucky from thinking of things to keep everyone outside?”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[miscelliteeous]

I think gnawing on a dilfs rough weathered hands and feeling him rub my gums would help a lot with my wisdom teeth probably.

[sednas]

─ BIRTHDAY GIRL

gojo, geto, nanami, toji x fem!reader (separately)

trigger warning: overstimulation, dirty talk (geto), use of handcuffs (nanami), public s!x, degradation (toji)

༘♡ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

you wake up by the feeling of a soft tongue running against the skin of your inner thigh. opening your eyes slowly, the first thing you see is gojo's face, squishing his cheek against your thigh, lazy blue eyes watching you with a glint of adoration.

"morning beautiful." he whispers just before placing a kiss over your clothed pussy.

"w-what time is it?" you ask weakly, your legs already slightly trembling.

"who cares? today's your birthday, we can do whatever you want, we got all day..."

you watch him slowly raise his eyes at you again, smirking mischievously and you can feel his hot breath against you.

"so..." he begins to talk while running his fingertips along the curve of your hips. "what do you want, mmh?"

he's really asking that when his lips are a few centimeters away from your pussy.

"your mouth, I want your mouth..." you whisper to him and he smirks again.

"where? here?" he teases, taking your hand to kiss the back of it. "be more specific baby or else I can't give it to you..." he laughs at your disappointed face and whines a little as you gently tug at his white hair to bring him closer to where you need him most.

"hereeee satoru, need you here." you almost groan in frustration, lifting your hips in the air in a needy way.

"oh here?~" he murmurs just before kissing your hidden pussy, this time using his tongue to wet the soft fabric of your panties.

you feel the tip of his tongue circles around your clit and it makes you shiver, your eyes are already rolling back even though he barely touched you.

gojo loves to tease you, sometimes he makes you beg just for a kiss, but today's your birthday, so he will be nice, at least at first.

bonus:

he brings you gifts in the morning. a lot of gifts. even more than usual. clothes, jewelry, perfumes, flowers, books, nintendo switch, pokemon cards, anything you want, he got it.

༘♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

you know your boyfriend has a thing for edging you. he likes to deny you for hours and hours, makes you cry and beg in frustration until you sound like a broken record, saying "please" over and over again... he just loves it when you're so horny and sensitive that he could make you cum just by blowing air on your pussy. but on special occasions, he likes to do the opposite, it's his way of spoiling you on your special day. he's so nice isn't he?

"su-suguru wait! you're... you're being mean!" you cry out, your trembling body trapped against his chest.

"I don't think your pussy agrees with you sweetheart, look how she's spasming when I remove my hand, she wants more..." he mocks with a wicked grin.

your skin burns with embarrassment at his words, talking about your genitals as if they were a real person. you'd be jealous if you weren't so overstimulated right now.

slowly, he puts two of his fingers inside you again and you moan at how full you feel just with his fingers alone.

he brings his mouth closer to your ear and you get goosebumps through your whole body, his lips almost touching your skin.

"come on lovely, give me one more I know you can." he whispers as he licks your earlobe.

"too much... can't..."

you squirm between his arms, your left hand desperately holding onto his forearm as his muscles flex while he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit. he clicks his tongue in disapproval and lifts your chin up so he can look at your face.

"you can still talk now can't you? mmh... looks like you're still using that brain of yours, let's fix that sweetheart."

while fingering you, he slides the thumb of his other hand in your mouth and you start sucking on it without even thinking, half lidded eyes trying to focus, your vision blurry as you can feel your sixth orgasm of the night coming. he smiles, flicking your clit a bit more harshly.

"cum sweet girl, you deserve to feel really good on your birthday."

bonus:

he takes you to your favorite restaurant <3 and he's smart enough to fuck you AFTER your date unlike toji 💀

༘♡ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

"what is it? already giving up?" he asks and he smiles when you shake your head. "that's my girl."

nanami knows how to listen, it's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. he listens and remembers everything you tell him. so of course he remembered when you confessed that some day you'd like to be tied up to his bed during sex. and tonight, for your birthday, he has decided to indulge that fantasy of yours. at first he thought it was a bit silly, the smile on your face when he handcuffed you to the headboard of the bed made him laugh a little. it's only when he finds himself kneeling between your legs, facing you, watching your eyes darken with lust and the way you're already tugging at your restraints that he realizes his position. he has you under him, completely helpless, at the mercy of his teasing touch and his insatiable mouth as you impatiently wait for him and he suddenly feels like the luckiest man in the world. he caresses your thighs lovingly and starts to kiss your stomach, making his way up to your chest to bury his face in your sweet tits, licking and giving gentle bites to your soft skin. you whimper and squirm, quickly realizing how frustrating your little fantasy is going to be and he seems to notice.

he keeps kissing your body until his lips meet your own, taking your breath away with a sloppy kiss and you gasp in his mouth when you feel his knee against your pussy.

"work for it baby, show me how much you want me." he orders, his voice soft but firm and you can only obey.

swaying your hips, you start grinding against his knee, softly moaning, looking away with embarrassment when you see him looking down at you, hypnotized by the way you're moving your body.

"you're doing such a good job baby, keep going, wanna know how desperate you can get for me."

bonus:

nanami never takes breaks from work, except for your birthday. he takes you on a weekend where you both can relax and have some sweet sweet sex in a jacuzzi 🤤

༘♡ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

you thought he was being weird as soon as you showed up in the outfit you had carefully chosen for your date at your favorite restaurant. he just looked at you from head to toe and nodded. he didn't even squeeze your ass when you walked past him and you ridiculously felt a bit sad about it. you should have known better, really.

now he's grabbing your hips with his big hands and forcing your body down onto his throbbing cock in the driver's seat, in the middle of the restaurant parking lot.

"m'sorry baby, I just can't resist you, you look so fucking good in that outfit." he moans in your ear and you have to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.

he lowers one of his hands to grab your ass and he starts thrusting inside you, his cock rubbing all the right spots, making your thighs tremble and your eyes water.

you feel his other hand threading through your hair, forcing you to look down where both of your bodies are connected.

"look at the mess you've made honey, it's all over me. does getting fucked in a car turn you on that much?" he asks and he smiles when he feels you trying to meet the cruel thrusts of his hips while looking away from the view of your pussy soaking his cock.

you whimper when he pulls at your hair, forcing your head down once again.

"answer me. does my little slut like to get off to the thought of getting caught while I'm fucking her pretty pussy?"

and despite shaking your head you can't lie to him, almost salivating at the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the fabric of his pants while he keeps slamming his hips against your skin.

"fuck yes! yes I like it! I like it so much!" and he laughs at your dumb voice, seeing you so cock drunk never fails to amuse him, especially when you make such shameless noises with the rear windows half open... he'll tell you later.

bonus:

this car sex session leaves you both panting, sweat sticking on your foreheads, your hair all messy and let's not even talk about the cum dripping out of you right now. so you both decide to go back home and toji orders food from the restaurant you were supposed to go to.

[cntloup]

Why not doing reader pregnant but her boyfriend leave her with her child and she has some trust issues or whatever you want and she's poor too :) then someone (you'll decide who you want) see her in a small house or maybe a garage. I don't know if it's a good idea but hope you'll like it :]

i loved this idea thank you babe<333 i might write a series for this lmk what you think :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

You pass the various shops and cafes, filled with life and smiles and laughter, a sheer contrast to the void forming in your heart as you sob in agony while hugging yourself and rubbing your arms to keep somewhat warm, your flimsy dress doing nothing to keep away the freezing cold.  

Your vision is blurry from the endless streams of tears flowing down your eyes and you don’t seem to notice the large figure stepping out of the cafe and appearing right in front of you. 

You bump into the mass of muscles and jolt back in shock. You quickly wipe your tears and lift your head to see him already looking at you in high alertness from the sudden impact. You notice his serious look and the numerous scars littering his face. 

You take a step back, “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you.” you apologize while looking down and his gaze softens, noticing the timidness in your demeaner. 

“ ‘s fine.” he responds, his voice deep and gruff, but maintaining a soft tone in order not to scare you any further. 

He observes the shaking in your much smaller form and how you’re trying so hard to keep warm, and that you have been crying. 

“Do you need any help?” he asks. You shake your head no and of course he knows you’re lying. You're scared, even to ask for a small favor. He knows how that feels. 

He takes off his leather jacket and goes to drape it over your trembling body, but you flinch away, “It’s ok. Here, take it.” he says, holding the jacket in front of you. 

You open your mouth to decline but the brisk icy wind prevents you from it. You take the jacket hesitantly and put if over your shoulders, “Thank you so much, sir.” “Simon.” “Thank you, Simon.” you try your hardest to give a small smile. 

But soon the tears come flowing down as rushing rivers, “Hey, hey. It's ok.” he tries to calm you down and goes to touch your arm only for you to pull away. He takes a step back and slightly raises his hands to show you he’s harmless. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asks and you sigh followed with a bitter chuckle, “Not really.” you silently scold yourself. You barely know the guy and you say you have nowhere to stay. 

He offers to take you inside the cafe and the rumbling in your stomach urges you to say yes. So you sit and talk for a while and he tells you he’s in the military which makes you maybe only slightly trust him and you warm up to him a bit more.

“I’m three months pregnant and my asshole of a boyfriend threw me out when he found out.” you tell him while biting into your sandwich like a starved animal. 

“What a bloody cunt...” he grumbles which makes you chuckle and agree. 

“I’m gonna check you into a hotel for now. Is that ok?” he offers kindly. He was gonna offer you his own place to keep an eye on you, but bit back his tongue since he knows how it would come off. 

Something tells you he’s trouble, but you can’t decline. Where would you stay? In the streets? 

“Yeah. Ok.” you accept, not knowing this is the start of something new. 

[palajae]

my name. | nishimura riki

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader

GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WC ▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead. 

AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...

wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️

a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.

you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate? 

you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his- 

the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open.  you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default. 

it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete. 

you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside. 

it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible. 

you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn. 

not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you. 

you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world. 

that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today. 

you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right? 

though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”

it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you. 

“you okay, y/n?” 

you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that? 

but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”

they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever. 

you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less. 

the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. 

the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen. 

after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train.  although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere. 

you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway. 

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once. 

so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown, 

wait a second-

something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?

you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well. 

you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you. 

you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—

have you met before?

you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform. 

a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings. 

his only response is a blink.  

it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment. 

you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it. 

“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…” 

you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop. 

that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.  

“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes. 

“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”

your mouth drops open. 

“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands. 

the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively. 

“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“

you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-” 

again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away. 

the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”

his next words make your blood run cold. 

“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists. 

“who are you? and why do you look just-?”

“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”  

you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction. 

it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting. 

he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense. 

his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.” 

“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“

“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.” 

before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off. 

you can call me niki, his words echo in your head. 

his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—

you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision. 

all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong. 

you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t. 

to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t. 

and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was. 

things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on. 

following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast. 

It wasn’t physically possible. 

you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died. 

niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.

niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you. 

“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes. 

“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”

he raises his eyebrows. 

“me? explain?” 

you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“

“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes. 

“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples. 

“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”

he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore. 

“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you. 

the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.

his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.” 

you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”

“yeah. are you?” 

“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.  

you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform. 

“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”

his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter?  that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”

he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.

“obviously not, because that’s dumb.” 

you scoff. 

“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“ 

he glances at you and you tense,  

“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters. 

you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”

there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.” 

you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around? 

he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.” 

the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place.   except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in. 

“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces. 

“i know. there were police here for days.” 

you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when? 

you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened? 

“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth. 

soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away. 

“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door. 

you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books. 

you pause, “yearbooks?“

he nods, “yeah, our school’s.” 

strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home. 

but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page. 

“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.

“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...” 

you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name, 

nish—

he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones- 

ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you. 

just like niki. you were actually speechless. 

eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches. 

“no way—” 

“—and there’s you.” 

it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you. 

almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo. 

according to niki, this you is dead? 

you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on? 

the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?” 

you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“

he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.” 

you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer, 

“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”

you don’t know what to say. 

could it actually be?

what other explanation could there be? 

“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—” 

you do air quotations, 

“—switch dimensions to another world?” 

niki shrugs, “no idea.”

he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”

his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”

you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?” 

“what?” 

you glance at him questioningly, “what?”

niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”

you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath. 

“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”

you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.” 

“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.

“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.” 

“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation. 

“well, it actually happened last thursday.”

you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up? 

“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance, 

“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.” 

at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise. 

at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in. 

you? 

a suicide at school? 

what about your family, your friends-

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head.  “i… i would never-“

you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”

his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“ 

unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.  

that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-

was just a stranger to him. 

yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits. 

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression. 

“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.

“are you sure that i-i did it?”

you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs, 

“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got. 

your face hardens. 

“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?” 

his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.

“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?” 

something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.

even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”

despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you. 

you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”

he stiffens, “what?” 

you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.” 

you need to. for yourself. 

niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“

“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”

he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”

you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.” 

he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him. 

“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door 

“wait! you’re being serious?!” 

his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”

“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.

you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”

he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.

“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”

“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.  annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.

“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”

“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.” 

niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe. 

“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand, 

“miss imposter.” 

you take it gladly, harshly.  “don’t call me that-“

“my name is y/n y/l/n.” 

you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.” 

to which you almost punched him. 

but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful. 

“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.” 

“what about clothes and toiletries?”

he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.” 

you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here. 

a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?” 

“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.

“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”

you hold back a laugh at the words. 

clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle. 

“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?” 

“apparently a horrible one,” you snort. 

after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation. 

“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”

“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow. 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay,  smartass. then how do we get in?” 

“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.” 

“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him. 

the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort. 

niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard. 

obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness.  you wondered if they were staying with other family. 

or were they at work? so soon after your death? 

you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.

the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.  

you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall 

you glance down at niki. 

“can you make it?”

he scoffs,  

“easy.” 

it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point. 

you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down. 

you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”

“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”

“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.

niki’s eyes widen. 

“be careful, y/n.” 

“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion. 

without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you. 

your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open. 

“you got it?” 

“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window. 

finally, you can breathe. 

it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation. 

after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room. 

all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you. 

a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. 

at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room.  not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,

“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”

he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”

“oh.”

the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”

he nods and begins to snoop around.  

“wait,” you call out hesitantly. 

niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.

“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.” 

he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.” 

you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.  

you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-

“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face. 

you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?  

niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen- 

wait a second, 

your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things? 

you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t. 

“don’t!” 

his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view. 

“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows. 

“no? am i not supposed-“

“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”

you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.

he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile. 

“you can proceed!” 

he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one. 

you pull out… 

a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room? 

and even more so, why was it hidden? 

niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open. 

“a box of chocolates?“ 

he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”

“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter. 

niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance. 

“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?” 

he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”

you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind. 

after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious— 

like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different. 

just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be. 

“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”

niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.” 

you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one. 

“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.  

“what day and time is it, currently?” 

“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”

“when does the police station close?”

dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?

luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.  

niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“

his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”

you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”

you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“

you grin. “onwards, then.”

“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”

he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”

“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.

he nods. 

“illegally?”

he nods again.

you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?” 

he shrugs, “probably.”

“good thing i’m not from this world.”

perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.

“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft. 

you gulp, “i guess i should.”

you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead. 

you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.

“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice. 

niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.

“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.

“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”

you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.” 

“then what?” 

you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.” 

you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-

it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-

you squint.

the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-

your thoughts are interrupted by niki. 

“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”

he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone. 

but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.

“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.

“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests

you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day. 

“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”

he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”

you nod, “okay.”

it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead. 

were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops? 

more like, if anyone cared? 

while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

yes, you affirm, you’re alive. 

you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts. 

but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink. 

everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-

a knock on the door makes you jump.

“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“

the door swings open.

you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.

“goodnight, niki.” 

you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks, 

“night, y/n.” 

it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore. 

you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights. 

in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.

you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.

“niki?” you say quietly.

another shuffle. 

“yeah?”

“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”

there’s a pause. 

“about you?”

“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”

niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”

you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter. 

“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts. 

you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face. 

the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you. 

especially about what you said.

niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.

he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused. 

why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it. 

meanwhile, you stayed at his home.

thinking. 

thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead. 

you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously. 

you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki. 

you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.

however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”

he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”

you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further. 

“you must’ve been bored without me.” 

that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so).  sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.” 

but you knew he was right and he knew it too. 

“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown. 

“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…” 

“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.” 

you nod, “that’s good.” 

“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”

you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday. 

“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”

you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look. 

“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?” 

niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.” 

instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof. 

“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step. 

“step? as in, my case?

“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”

you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were. 

“okay—shoot.”

what was the worse thing he could suggest?

“we should sneak you into school-“

your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?” 

niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did. 

“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”

“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker? 

“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.” 

you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.

“fine.” 

niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,

“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?

he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“ 

confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about? 

“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket. 

you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.

you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly. 

“you’re actually being smart...” 

his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation. 

you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?” 

he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…

“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.” 

“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly. 

niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?” 

you falter. “huh? it isn’t?” 

he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.” 

you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.

“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”

turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice. 

niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger. 

meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair. 

you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him. 

on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.

he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms. 

instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart. 

after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head. 

“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.” 

please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort. 

you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself.  “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“

you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways. 

“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.

he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.” 

he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect. 

niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.

with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal? 

normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends. 

on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive? 

“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes. 

“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?” 

“am i actually loaded in this world?” 

niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“ 

you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know. 

“how much are you talking?” 

he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“

you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed. 

“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.” 

you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?” 

he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace? 

“what?” 

you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are? 

“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?” 

then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?” 

you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…” 

suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide.  panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—

straight into the locker. 

your own locker. 

you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime? 

in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise. 

no way. park sunghoon was in this world too? 

you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?” 

really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out. 

“sorry. that was me, pres.” 

it was niki’s voice. 

you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon. 

“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily. 

sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.” 

niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.” 

“alright, see you later.” 

you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave. 

but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker. 

your heart rate picks up. did he notice you? 

however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back. 

you frown—what was that? 

after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms. 

“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself. 

“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.

“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”

“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.” 

“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“

“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off. 

you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed. 

everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace. 

you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”

one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace? 

“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.” 

you sigh. next time. 

it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it. 

the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice. 

tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis. 

niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven. 

niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused. 

he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“

all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door. 

“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“

the door handle begins to turn.

you and niki share a look of panic. 

your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath. 

“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume. 

“nope. just me.” 

you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was. 

“it was just probably the video i was playing.” 

“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her. 

you let out an exhale of relief. 

“y/n?” you hear soon after. 

“under here.” 

you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed. 

you meet his curious eyes. cute. 

“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off. 

“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”

“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“

“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it. 

“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 

he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp. 

you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours. 

niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead. 

is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat? 

niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere. 

“so, uh, i had an idea.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”

“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point. 

“you got the charger, right?”

niki nods, taking it out of his pocket. 

it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end. 

when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing. 

“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.” 

“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.” 

you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger. 

“okay. now we wait.” 

niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”

he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”

you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id. 

as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth. 

“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”

you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it. 

“oh my god.” 

“don’t even-“

“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”

you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” 

niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”

you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.” 

niki notices the sour expression on your face. 

“oh. you don’t like him?”

you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”

you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him. 

besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words. 

“good to know.” 

“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.

but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace? 

and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind. 

“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully. 

“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”

“well, i’ve got a task for you.” 

niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public. 

he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them. 

and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you. 

danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”

“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”

haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.” 

she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears. 

niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it. 

you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing. 

everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died. 

the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone. 

you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness. 

you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name. 

“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side. 

his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. 

what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion. 

“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind. 

“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace. 

“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice. 

his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world. 

he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again. 

niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep. 

you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before. 

somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table. 

11 am. niki must be at school still, you note. 

you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass? 

niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay. 

when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk. 

went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me. 

niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud. 

he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day. 

he’s scared. 

niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure. 

he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.

tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected. 

you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall. 

you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.

niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged. 

then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.” 

he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.” 

you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

“okay,” niki repeats. 

it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.

suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain. 

the rain doesn’t stop. 

and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly. 

“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly. 

“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.” 

“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically. 

he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self. 

“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”

“but-“

“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.” 

you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“

niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”

a challenge was a challenge. 

you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun. 

“just so you know, i technically won.” 

you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“

you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified. 

niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”

“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout. 

“what do you want to eat?”

“anything. i’m serious.” 

niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food. 

“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”

you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly. 

“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze. 

“how’s this one?”

you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.

“i think this one fits you more.”

as he grumbles, you laugh. 

“fine, but i get to choose yours.” 

he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”

you splutter, “but that means-“

“yes. i’m the princess.”

“obviously,” he adds. 

in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow. 

“i’ve never done this before, so…"

instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes. 

“what now?”

niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”

you’re at a loss for words. 

niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”

“o-okay.”

you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.  

“hey, this photo came out good!”

“but what happened to the first one?”

you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek. 

it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way. 

it was something you had never felt before. 

“..-y/n?”

“huh?” you snap out of your trance.

“i said, you can keep this copy.” 

you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“

“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay. 

you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off. 

on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.

“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”

“whatever you say, mr. responsible.” 

he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.

that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events. 

“niki?”

you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”

“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”

“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”

“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”

“what? what do you mean?” 

even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you. 

“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”

“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.

“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”

niki grimaces. 

“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”

“nope. what are they like?” 

he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”

“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.” 

you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps. 

now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking. 

your specialty. 

niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart. 

as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed. 

and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers. 

that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it. 

you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn. 

“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”

you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”

“what were you doing on my phone?”

you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you. 

“oh, and?” 

you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face. 

that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone. 

you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-

it was so close.

the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night. 

he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”

you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?” 

he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.

and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.

it was time to confront the truth.

you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted. 

this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it. 

you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor. 

you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it. 

and hearts next to sunghoon’s face. 

horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth. 

during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up? 

just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts. 

and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar. 

he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops. 

you sit on the floor next to the lockers  with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care. 

the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket. 

you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been. 

“y/n!” 

great, now you were hearing things as well? 

furious footsteps stomp towards you.

“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”

“n-niki?” your eyes widen. 

before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet. 

“why would you come to school without me?”

for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?” 

he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“

“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“

a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”

you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction. 

he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium? 

“why are we-“

“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”

after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence. 

niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”

you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!” 

“you don’t understand,” his voice raises,  and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him. 

“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”

at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down. 

“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter. 

you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life, 

you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you. 

and this was the first time you felt wanted. 

you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him. 

when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.

without a second thought, niki pushes you. 

he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—

straight into the pool. 

your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later. 

he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago. 

you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air. 

after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air. 

“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”  

you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”

he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”

you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.” 

“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”

after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part. 

growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”

you thank him and he looks around awkwardly. 

“what is it?” you squint at him. 

“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”

you soften, eyes falling to the floor. 

“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.” 

you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can. 

niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”

“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”

“w-what? but how?”

you shake your head. he goes to hug you. 

you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face. 

“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.” 

niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”

he wonders why you say you and not we.

at that, you falter. 

“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.” 

niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”

you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.” 

it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home. 

“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes. 

and he looks back at you with pained ones. 

niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in. 

the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.

it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway. 

you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.” 

the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were. 

you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears. 

“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.” 

he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.” 

if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world. 

“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper. 

“how will you even get back home?”

you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”

niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”

as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky. 

the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket. 

you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.

while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”

your body trembles, “i don’t know.”

“then… will i ever see you again?”

you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry. 

yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”

niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already. 

“this is it,” he says. 

but neither of you move. 

“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces. 

“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.” 

you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.

“i promise i’ll find you again.” 

he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.

crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one. 

you never knew niki’s name.

and then everything fades into nothing. 

that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go. 

then, you’re gone. 

in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together. 

all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting. 

but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore. 

and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers. 

you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform. 

niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second. 

when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there. 

he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing. 

after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time. 

when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved. 

and then he’s free.

epilogue...

you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that. 

there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy. 

ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.

even after graduating, it never left you. 

you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto. 

“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in. 

they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.  

you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”

he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled. 

“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize. 

“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”

you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.  

“me?”

he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile. 

“my name is nishimura riki.”

first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!

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[darkbluekies]

Like a fly in a trap

Rich!female!yandere x reader

Summary: you escape Hedwig, only to be brought back and learn a secret about her family that puts everything into perspective.

Warnings: alcoholic? Yandere, Stockholm syndrome, abuse(?), isolation etc

Word count: 3.5k

A cold breeze finds its way into your bones. You pull the hood closer over your head, heart hammering in your chest. The sun is barely up. You have to catch the bus before her alarm clock rings. When she notices that you’re gone, all hell will break lose. 

You can’t pinpoint the moment things changed, you just know that at some point, Hedwig wasn’t the loving, caring girlfriend you got together with, but a clingy, possessive psychopath. Of course, she never shows that side to anyone … not even you. But you’ve been listening in on the calls she makes when she thinks you’re not listening. Wanting to hire hitmen and demanding for people to get hurt, even if they’ve only done as little as speak to you. You can’t say when she became like that … scared that she’s been that through your entire relationship … only that you’ve just started to notice. 

You’re not even sure where you’re going. You can’t go home. That’s the first place Hedwig would look. You don’t have anything on you that could be traced. There’s no plan, you just have to get away from Hedwig. 

The bus stops in front of you and you get on. You walk through the empty bus, sitting down in the very back and pull the hood of your hoodie closer to you.

Hedwig opens her eyes when the alarm sounds. She can tell right away that something is wrong. The bed is empty … and cold. Quickly, she sits up and looks around, heart stopping. Where are you? She rips the covers off of her body and runs over to the bathroom. Empty. Her pulse is hammering in her head. She can’t hear anything. Hedwig sinks down in the corridor to avoid fainting or throwing up. At this point, she’s unsure what she’s going to do. Her entire body is shutting down. It’s feels like she’s dying. 

With shaking hands she picks up her phone and call you. A signal rings through the room and she grows even colder. Your phone is on the bedside table. 

“Y/N, no … what”, she gasps in pure horror. “Y/N, don’t do this to me. Oh, God. Oh, my God.”

She presses her hands over her heart. 

“Hedwig, dearest, what is wrong?” she hears her father ask. 

She looks up and watches her father through her blurry vision. He’s standing in his pajamas, worried eyes looking down at her. 

“My dear, what happened?” her father asks again. 

“Y/N … Y/N …”, she hyperventilates.

“Has something happened to them?”

“They’re gone! I want them back! I want them back now!” She screams through her sobs. “I want them back this instant!”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart, don’t cry. Daddy will get them back to you.” He hugs her. “Daddy hates seeing his princess so upset. They will be back, I promise you, my little girl.”’

Hedwig wipes her tears and sobs. 

They go down to the kitchen where her mother has woken up, already with a glass of wine in her hand. 

“My little princess, can you please give your mother and me a smile?” her father begs her. “It will be okay, we will find Y/N again. I have called every person I know who works for the police, private detectives … everyone. I have millions of eyes open.”

Hedwig refuses. She holds her arms over her chest while sitting on a chair. Her mother is sitting beside her, sipping on her red wine while her father is walking back and forth in front of her, stressed out of his mind. When he can’t get Hedwig what she wants, he feels absolutely terrible. 

“We will find them, don’t worry”, her father says. “Daddy will do everything to make you happy.”

Hedwig avoids eye contact. If her fathers contacts can’t find you, then she’ll have to contact hers. None in the family knows about the hitmen she knows — and hires often — and neither does she want them to. Worry is eating her up from the inside. She wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms and kiss every part of your soft, wonderful skin. She wants to run her fingers through your hair and make sure that you know that you’re safe with her. She has never been this worried before. 

“This is the last stop.”

You nod and rise from your seat. Your legs have fallen asleep since long ago and you have no idea where you are. By now, you’re hungry and tired, wishing nothing more than to sleep. Carefully, you look around. Where are you? You’re surrounded by fields, forests and small, small cabins. With a sigh, you sit down by the side of the road, to think before you start going somewhere. You should try to find a payphone, perhaps, to call your family. No, they wouldn’t be able to help you. If Hedwig wouldn’t hire someone to kill them, she would either pay them or manipulate her way to get what she wants. After all, you fell for her little girl act for so long. If only you had seen how unstable and obsessive she really was before you had tangled yourself this far deep into the relationship. By now, it is too late to cut things off. She has nestled her way into your every day life. Wherever you look, Hedwig’s there in some way, shape of form. She has infiltrated your life like a virus. 

You hide your face in your hands. Hedwig’s a fucking spider who has intangled you in her web, slowly draining you of life until she can eat you. What should you do? You can’t go home, can’t talk to anyone you know. If you call the police, she will get away with it. Her family is in the elite class, they always get away with things. 

“Hedwig …”, you whisper frustratedly into your hands. “Why have you done this? Why have you given me this much problem? Why me?”

Your stomach growls and you wrap your arms around your body tightly. You have to find food soon. And after that … shelter. 

Hours go by. You’ve curled up by a tree to get some kind of warmth, but there’s none to be found. Your body temperature is dropping every minute go by. You have nothing to keep you company, apart from the moon. And weirdly enough, it feels like it is pitying you. 

You wake up the following morning by someone trying to catch your attention. An old woman. Your vision is blurry, but you can tell that you’ve never seen her before. 

“Hello, are you okay?” she asks worriedly. “What are you doing out here? You’re freezing!”

You can barely hear what you’re saying, you can’t feel your body. 

“Do you know who you are?” the woman asks. 

You can’t move your body, can’t answer. You’re so cold. 

“Do I need to call someone?” she asks. 

No answer. She picks up her phone and calls the police, telling them that she’s found a person who’s been sleeping outside the entire night, that they’re unresponsive and ice cold. She tells the cops a description of your characteristics. You feel like shutting your eyes again, so tired. 

“No, don’t close your eyes!” she says quickly. “You can die!”

You try to force your eyes to stay open. 

The old woman can’t carry you, so she goes to get you blankets and hot tea. While she forces a warm cup in your hands, you can tell that a white car pulls up on the road in the distance. 

That’s not a cop car. 

“Y/N!” 

The familiar, female voice causes you to drop the mug. Hedwig runs all the way over to you and throws herself at your stone cold body. Her warm face hides into your neck. 

“My God, darling, you’re freezing!” she gasps and cups your icy cheeks with her hands. “My sweetheart, I’ve been so worried!”

The men behind her thank the old lady for calling the cops and you suddenly understand what’s going on. Once again, the elite has taken over the cops. One of the men are Hedwig’s father. You gulp. This is bad. 

The old woman leaves. You want to shout out that they’re not going to help you, that it was this girl’s fault that you endured a night out in the snow for, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, not in in front of Hedwig’s father. 

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m here now”, she says and tries to warm you up with her hands. “You could have died! I’ll never let this happen again, I promise. I’ll never let you out of my sight again!” 

She removes her expensive coat and scarf and hangs them over your shoulders, wires the scarf around your neck and blows hot air on your hands. She kisses your forehead. Two of the men, you haven’t seen them before, carry your body to the car and place you in the backseat, right next to Hedwig. She tells the chauffeur to bring up the heat to max.

“I’ve been so worried for you, sweetheart”, she says and holds your icy hands between hers while continuing to blow hot air. “Why did you do that? You scared me to death, Y/N!”

“You have given us some problems, young lady/man”, her father says from the front seat. “You’ve made my daughter very upset.”

You can’t respond. There’s something about her father that terrifies you. 

“I don’t ever want to see my little princess upset”, he continues. “I will do everything to make her happy, which means that you need to stay. Do I have to take measures to make sure that you stay with my daughter?”

You gulp and shake your head. Something’s definitely wrong about him.

“I will never let you leave me again”, Hedwig whispers in your ear. “I need you. If i don’t have you … I don’t want to live. Don’t ever try this again. Please.” She seems to realize how she sounds and shakes her head. “Please don't think I want to scare you, I just … I can’t imagine my life without you. I have to keep you with me like this. I know you understand, you’re just cold and tired.”

“You don’t have to drag in your father in your dirty business, Hedwig”, you whisper. “That’s low.”

She brings your cold hands under her shirt, shivering. While you do enjoy the heat, you keep your hands in fists. 

“You’re my everything, I had to do what was necessary, I’m sorry”, Hedwig whispers and sniffles. “No one likes me the way you do. You’re the only real person in this world. Everyone else … they’re fake. You’re so special to me.”

You don’t say anything more to her during the entire car ride. When you come back to her mansion, you’re immediately tucked into bed. Hedwig closes the door to her bedroom after her, locking it.

“Here”, she says and placed a silver tray on the bed. “Soup. The chef made it for you.” She sits down and sighs sadly. “Why did you leave me, sweetheart? What have I done? PLease tell me so I’ll make sure to never do it again. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Stop pretending”, you hiss. “You know very well. Talk to me instead of acting like a defenseless school girl.”

“What?”

“I know what you’ve done. I’ve heard your phone calls at night.”

Hedwig’s face drops and grows multiple shades lighter. At first, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands tremble as she panickedly thinks. 

“O-Oh, Y/N …”, she starts with an unsteady voice. “I never- … I never-”

“Why me, Hedwig?” you ask, not being able to bring your voice above a terrified whisper.

“Because- … because I love you.” 

“You can have anyone you want, you really can … so why me?” 

It is unbelievable. You can’t understand why you are worth killing for. What does she see in you that is that special? You could never have anticipated that someone would end human lives … for you. But then again, is anyone worth killing for?

As the realization of reality sets in, along with your exhausted form, you grow tired. 

 “I’ll have to take precautions from now on”, Hedwig says. “I love you so much, I can never let this happen again.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask coldly. “Send hitmen on me? On my family?”

“No, not you — never you. But …”

“My family, right?”

Hedwig bites her lip before groaning. “I just- … I wish that you never had tried to leave! I don’t want to do these kinds of things! They make me feel so dirty! Fuck, Y/N, why can’t you just … love me again?”

You don't answer. A single tear runs down your cheek. You can't even look at her, which drives her insane. 

“Y/N, please!” she begs and reaches for your hand, but you quickly pull away. “Don't do this to me. I love you. I really, really do!”

She starts to sniffle, then sob. You're amazed that just a little touch deprivation causes her to break down completely, but she expects you to be completely normal when people are getting murdered behind your back — on your behalf?

“I want to go home.”

“I can’t let you go, Y/N. I need you here. I can’t live without you.”

“Let me go home. Now.”

“No, Y/N. You need to stay here. I will make you stay here. If you think that I'm going to let the only one that loves me leave, you're wrong.”

“I don't … love you anymore.”

It looks like someone has punched Hedwig right in her ribs.

“Yes you do”, she says quietly, wishing.

You turn your head away.

“I'll let you be”, she says and slowly stands up. “I love you, Y/N. Please don't think I don't.”

You're forced to sleep beside her all night. You've curled up into a ball and she doesn't try to reach for you, like you had expected … but you can hear her cry. 

She leaves for school, leaving you all alone, but not before reminding you that she has people in the house that won't let you leave the premises. She tells you that you can go down to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat, but you wait in her room, as a silent protest, for as long as you can manage. When your stomach physically hurts, you sigh in defeat and walk downstairs.

Someone's sitting by the kitchen aisle. A blonde woman who twirls a wine glass slowly. Her eyes are empty, but her appearance is that of a goddess. You recognize her, first as the popular actress you used to watch, and as Hedwig's mother second. You're about to turn around and walk out when her voice stops you.

“Stay.” Her voice is low, almost strained.

You turn back and take a few, slow steps into the marble kitchen. The woman doesn't look up from her twirling, red wine.

“I heard that she found you”, she says and sighs.

You nod carefully. 

“They're very alike, you know”, she says, glancing at you, “her and her father.”

“They are?” you ask.

“Yes. Unfortunately.” She nods at the chair in front of her. “Sit down.”

Just like Hedwig’s father, her mother had something in her voice that you don't dare disobey. You sit down, still not being able to look at her.

“Do you know who I am, Y/N?” she asks, sounding like she doesn't expect much.

“I do, ma'am”, you answer. “I used to watch your movies a lot when I was younger. You were awesome.”

Hedwig’s mother smiles slightly, a genuine, warm smile.

“That makes me happy”, she says softly. “Thank you, Y/N. I was scared to have been forgotten.”

“What? No, never. You're an icon. I wish you still did movies.”

“Me too.”

“Why don't you?”

Her smile thins out. “Hedwig’s father … he's … well, let's just say he rather wants me here.” And she adds on, sour grimace on her face: “Where it is safe.”

“That sounds like what-”

“-Hedwig would say, yes. I told you … they're very alike.”

A light turns on in your head.

“Did he … did he take you, too?” you ask, carefully.

“Take and take, not exactly.” Her mother seems to think and the dull look in her eyes returns. “If only it was that quick and direct. He nestled his way into my life, infiltrating every part. First, he wanted to invite me on a date, then help with auditions, then he wanted to be my manager, then director, then boyfriend. He had control of every work related issue … always making sure I never worked intimate with any men, turning down things I really wanted to do … isolating me from my costars. When we married, he wanted me to quit all together, and wanted me to stay home with the child I was pregnant with.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yes.”

“When I was pregnant, I was wishing that she wouldn't inherit that side of her father. I hoped and prayed. But she did. I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“I'm sorry that happened to you.”

The woman gives a weak smile. “Don't be. It's happening to you now, be sorry for yourself. I'm hoping in telling you this, that you somehow can get away before it's too late.”

“Can't you … leave?”

She shakes her head. “It's too late for me.”

“No, it's not. You're still beautiful, Hollywood would love to have you back.”

“Thank you, you're very kind, Y/N. But it's not that easy. He controls more than you can ever imagine. He has made sure to be part of the industry so that I can never return.”

You gesticulate with you hands. “Then … do something else! Prove to him that he can't own you.”

“I envy your enthusiasm. But it wouldn't work, he would get into that too and sabotage for me again.”

“Why does he ruin for you? Doesn't he love you?”

“He does. He just wants me for himself.” She sighs. “I don't know how Hedwig would behave with you, if she would let you work-”

“I don't think so. She has talked about letting me stay home with her so that I could spend time on my hobbies and her taking care of our children.”

“I was afraid of that.” She stands up and downs the last of her red wine. “One thing I'm happy about, is that Hedwig has inherited her father's ability to love. They love too much, I think. And that affects the people around them. If you can't leave, Y/N, I'd advise you to play along. Life is not bad here … as long as you don't try to leave. I promise you that.”

Before she can leave the kitchen, you have to ask her one final question.

“Excuse me, ma'am”, you say and watch how she gives you a look. “Did … did he ever kill for you?”

She doesn't answer.

When Hedwig returns that afternoon, she has a big basket in her hands, and a bouquet of roses.

“Please forgive me for everything I've done”, she whispers and places them both in front of you before sinking down on her knees. “I'm so sorry.”

The basket is filled with your favorite snacks, a few boxes of jewelry and a designer scarf.

“I did what I thought would solve the problem”, she whispers, shaking her head regretfully. “I wanted the people that hurt you yo get what they deserved. I don't have a good explanation for the people that … didn't do anything. I just couldn't bare to see you interact with someone that wasn't me.”

“You're a stupid girl, Hedwig”, you say coldly.

“Yes, yes I am”, she sniffles. “I'm an idiot. Please forgive me.”

You thought back on what her mother had said about how life wasn't bad if you actually did what Hedwig wanted. You looked at her. She really did look like an innocent school girl, sitting on her knees in her school uniform with her hands clasped together, begging for forgiveness with tears streaming down her face. You start to feel bad for her. She is an only child to a pair of parents who went through a weird, macabre relationship. Of course she would want someone to love her and stay with her forever. You have feelings for her, you can't kill them, even if you really want to. Maybe this was what her mother felt, that she really loved Hedwig’s father that much, that she couldn't leave him … and because she knew that he would never let her leave. 

If you stay, people won't get hurt. And maybe, just maybe, you can change her. 

“I … I forgive you …”

[certainlynotasimp]

Okay, first of all, how are you? Hope you’re doing well! Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated- Second off, your Sunny fics? *chef’s kiss* so mainly, what if anybody made Sunny cry and Miguel had to find out about it? And Sunny’s trying not to make it seem like a big deal in order to keep Miguel from, you know, absolutely obliterating anyone.

Come on, Baby, Cry.

((Miguel O' Hara X Female! Reader))

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for the compliment. All my readers? *Extra chef's kisses* I am very hydrated and I got so excited to write this for you and to add some angsty content lol. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you are disappointed or if you love it.

A/N: I also wanna address two things before I post this too. 1) thank you so much to the anon who asked me to include translations for the Spanish phrases as I was honestly not thinking about doing that. I will do better to include the translations at the end of the fics. 2) There are gonna be some triggering topics explored in this one-shot so if you don't want to hear about near injuries to children or child loss, then I understand if you don't want to read it. Feel free to enjoy my other fanfics and here's the post where you can stay notified on happier Sunny and Miggy fanfics.

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is just their nickname, not their actual name.)), Female pronouns, PTSD, Mentions of Child Loss, Endangerment of a Child ((No children were actually hurt, just traumatized)), Trauma, Comforting, Fluff, Angry Miguel, and Google Translate Spanish.

The room fills with squeals and giggles as the chase between the chubby toddler and the jumping spider. Mayday swings her little self around the corridor as the young woman follows behind amused by how agile the little tyke was. 

‘Maybe she’ll make a good sidekick in the future.’ The smiling woman muses in her mind before a bloody image flashes in her mind. Shaking her head, she clears the idea out of her mind as Mayday reaches an open window. 

Her quick scream of horror as she accidentally swings herself out of the window causes the woman’s blood to run cold as she flings herself out of the window after her. “MAYDAY!”

The adrenaline coming from her heightened fear causes the whole thing to appear to be trapped in time as the spider woman falls with the screeching infant falling inches away. Tears clouded her vision as she shoots out her webbing to the pillars around them as the images of flames lick at her eyes. 

So many flames, and too many buildings at once. Screams and pleas from below as she tries to be there. They didn’t matter to her, not at that moment. The only one who mattered was him. Did he scream like that too or did he not even feel it?

Using her webbing, she quickly creates a hammock for Mayday to fall on a few feet from the ground, thankfully trapping the wailing infant so she can’t escape. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t set in time for the spider as she slams into the titanium flooring below, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Many spidermen gathered as they heard the commotion, but she could only focus her blurry vision above her as she tries to regain her sight. A familiar blur of bright pink swings up and grabs the ball of ginger hair in a muddled mess of cries. He quickly drops down to where the disoriented woman was splayed out below with the whimpering infant in his arms.

“Hey, Sunny, you alright?” Peter calls his friend. The damage didn’t look bad from the outside, but he was sure she had some nasty concussion with how she was looking at him.

Hobie crouches down beside the crumbled girl and carefully lifts her head up with one hand. “Oi, Sunshine, you there?” He mutters as he looks into her eyes. He holds up his hand and makes three fingers pop up. “How many fingers do you see, love?”

With a cough, the woman croaks out, “Three?” Her eyes begin to focus as her enhanced healing works out the stars in her vision. With the help of Hobie and Peter, she stands up with a whimper at the feeling of her shattered ribs forming back together. “Damn, I forgot that falling several feet actually hurt.” She attempts to joke despite her wheezing breath. The crowd around them laughs as Peter sighs in relief.

“Thank god, you’re alright.” Peter mourns as a glint of regret shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Sunny. I shouldn’t have let her bring the web shooter here. She almost swings herself out of the window all the time and MJ told me that one day I won’t be there to help the next time it happens.” Mayday’s cries end as she sees her favorite play partner up and well as she shows off her gummy smile.

“Well, luckily I was here to save the day.” The disoriented spider muses as she returns the infant’s smile as the men chuckle. The crowd dissipates leaving the injured spider with her two friends.

“I’m still really sorry, P. I got distracted and didn’t see that the window was open.” She winces as she blames herself for being so neglectful.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. This little rascal will probably send me to an early grave with all the mischief she causes.” Peter jokes as he tickles his now roaming daughter, chuckling at her excited squeals.

“Good thing you don’t have a kid, Sunny.” Hobie chuckles. “You would lose them in a heartbeat.”

The bright atmosphere shatters as the woman abruptly pulls away from her friends. The men look at her confused until they saw the look in her eyes. The normal warm and inviting gaze that they all thrived under was gone, only a dark void was staring back at them. Their light now shining in hurt and sadness as memories cloud her mind. Her lip trembles in a tight line as tears begin to roll down her face. 

Hobie looks confused at the sudden shift, but Peter realizes something as he looked at his trembling friend. Her eyes burned with tears as they locked with his. She had a haunted look about her. It's a look only parents can ever understand and fear. The look Peter himself almost experienced. “Hey,(y-” Before Peter can comfort her, she activates her mask and turns invisible before running off, her muffled sobs leaving them speechless.

Hobie groans as he realizes two things. One, he just made the sweetest person in the world cry. And Two,...

Miguel is gonna kill him.

~~~~~~~

The warm glow of the portal illuminates the surveillance room as the blue spider steps out covered in a musty yellow goo. Lyla smirks as she observes the little chucks slipping onto the ground as Miguel attempts to dust off the slime from his large shoulders.

“Was your mission successful, boss?” The assistant snarks as she sends out a little robot to follow the annoyed Spiderman. The little bug-like contraption eagerly swallows up the disgusting mess Miguel left as he walks up to the platform. “The anomaly was captured and disposed of. Next time, warn me if William Baker is made of anything except sand.” He grumbles as the sound of the little robot annoyed him even more. 

“I’ll make a note of that.” The AI giggles as she downloads the mission info from Miguel’s gizmo. “Also ‘Miss Sunshine’ is here and she doesn’t seem too happy.” She says before fading out.

Miguel’s eyes widen upon hearing that his sunny partner was upset. She was never upset. Never. With concern eating away at him, Miguel shoots out a web and swings himself to the platform above. He lands softly as he sees the scene in front of him.

His sunshine sat in his usual seat in front of the monitor. Her costume was dirty with a chest compression brace wrapped around her ribs as her choked sobs wheeze out of her. Her mask was off as her head rested against the ice pack in her hand, her back leaned forward as her attention was focused on the image before her.

He already knew what was on the screen.

He knew that file name by heart just like how he knows Gabriella’s.

File SW-0001425

World 16457-0

Spider-Woman- (Y/N) (L/N)

Age of infection- 23

Occupation- Intern Medical Research Assistant in the Genetics Department of { REDACTED } working under Dr. {REDACTED}

Sacrifice: Ben (L/N), age 4, Son of (Y/N) (L/N), 1 year into being Spiderwoman

Cause of death: Blunt Force trauma and Smoke inhalation caused by a multi-location attack caused by { REDACTED}

Status of Universe: DESTROYED

On the screen, the laughing face of a younger Sunny shines as a chubby cheek of a baby boy with dark curls smooshes into hers. The faint sound of a child mimicking the smooch of a kiss can be heard as the overexaggerated gasp of the woman causes the toddler to squeal. “That was such a sweet kiss, Benny. Can mommy have another one?” The sweet voice soured the air as the sobbing woman mournfully watches her baby boy.

The baby she failed.

Miguel approaches behind her and slowly takes the mouse from her weak grasp. The broken woman sighs as she realizes her miggy is here with her now, but doesn’t turn to look at him as he pauses the video. Her baby’s matching eyes stare right back at her before Miguel turns the chair around to face him as his mask disintegrates. His eyes glow red under the light of the monitors as he searched her sore eyes. Her face was red with a noticeable bruise along the left side of her face. Tears and snot crusted over her soft features as her lips remained turned into a trembling whisper. Her pupil shone in self-loathing and searching for his comfort. He could tell that this episode isn’t just one of her low days, something happened.

Something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.

Miguel closes his eyes as his hand caresses her cheek. The warmth of her flushing face nuzzling into his palm allowed him to ground his rage as he focuses his gaze back onto his beloved.

“Mi luz, ¿qué pasó?” He seethes as he looks deep into her eyes. 

She shakes her head as she tries to avoid looking into his concerned ruby gaze. The glass bridge was already cracked as she internally debated with sobbing everything that happened into his warm embrace or to protect her friend from the wrath she knows Miguel will unleash if he knows what was said. The warmth of his other palm cupping her cheek, guiding her to a wandering eye to look at his frowning face nearly broke her.

“It was nothing, Miggy…”She whispered as her voice trembled again. She tried to control her eyes from unknowingly confessing while she tries to bite the wobbling pout. “It was an accident…”

“What.” Miguel runs his thumb under her abused mouth as a piece of her disheveled hair was swept back. “Happened?” His demand is punctuated as he holds her in his stare. His eyes burned with barely contained fury and protectiveness as he studied her reactions. “Odio verte como la suya, mi amor.” He admits with a sigh.

Leaning forward, Miguel places a firm kiss on her forehead as his beloved’s breath shudders at his touch. The gentle heat under his touch left her trembling as the glass began to crack. “Let me ease your pain…” He whispers as he trails his kisses down to her eyelids. “These eyes are meant to be filled with happiness, not sorrow…” The cracks deepen as he gently kisses her nose. “I can’t undo what has happened…” The corners of her lips were caressed by his as his nose brushed against her cheeks causing her eyes to meet his mirrors. Her sorrow and helplessness are reflected in his ruby eyes as he kneels on the ground between her legs. A silent plea breaks the resolve she built as he mutters into her ear.

“Please, mi sol, at least let me feel your pain too…It's me and you against the universe remember…Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo.” He begs as the tension shatters. 

With her arms snaking around his shoulders, the little spider confesses all that happened hours prior into his ear. Each detail, each scar, burned into his mind as she clung to his neck and hair. His inferno of rage almost imploded until he looked back into her eyes again. The relief of letting go of all of her troubles made her face look years younger as she looked at him with her big vulnerable eyes. 

Hobie will have to wait. His love needed him now.

In a silent nod, Miguel wrapped her weak legs around his waist before he stood up. Feeling her snuggling into his throat, he carries her toward her room down the hallway while the annoying robot follows them to clean up the mess. As he enters the room, he releases some of his anger by smashing the bug with his foot. 

“What was that, Miggy?” She croaks as she weakly tries to look over his shoulder.

“Just a bug,” He sighs as he approaches her dresser and grabs his spare set of clothes from his drawer. “You want your clothes or mine?”

“Yours…” She shyly admits as he feels the heat returning to the cheek on his neck. 

“Muy bien, niña bonita. Lo que quieras.” He whispers as he grabs another set of clothes that he knows will swallow her. With that, he carries them into her personal bathroom and spent the night slowly bringing back his sunshine.

~~~~~~~~

A deep scream rings out through the Lobby as they see a flash of blue fury tackles the residential metal head into the ground. Peter hurries to save his colleague along with a few other Spidermen as Mayday laughs at the anarchist getting thrashed by the clawed man spewing Hispanic curses at him.

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Mi luz, ¿qué pasó? - My light, what happened?

mi sol - my sun

Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo. -Please don't leave me alone...I don't want to lose you again

~~~~~~~

taglist:

@ameliadraws 

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

@chims-kookies

@himesuedi

@22carolina08

@chaoticevilbakugo

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@hoshhoshh

@isaidoop

@pheroineux

@rosiepetalss

@aniya7

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 1

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 800 | masterlist

Bloody and broken your body slumps to the ground, his hands, the strong grip he had on you, still lingering like a phantom touch.

Ragged breath whoosh in and out of your lungs, the crisp air burning down your throat, your chest aching, like sharp claws are digging right into the flesh. You want to scream, but your mouth is too dry, your throat hurting too much. There is nothing but an endless void inside your heart and mind, and yet a whirlwind of fury starts to boil within.

The creaking of the door hinges is what makes you tip your head back, eyes burning, vision blurry due to the dust in them. But you see him. It’s not too late. You see his face once last time. The face you will remember forever - loathe forever.

"Azriel," you seethe, but your voice is hoarse and breaks before it can reach him. Or that’s what you think.

The young male‘s head whips towards you. He heard you. Or the swirling shadows always dancing around him heard you. They calm down, almost like they are waiting for what you are about to say. 

You brace your bloody fists on the ground, knuckles white from how hard you curl your fingers towards your palms. Your gaze drops for a split second, landing on his scarred hands, gripping the bloody hunting knife tightly. That damn knife that caused you the flesh deep wound on your belly, now dripping with blood and soon puss.

"Yes," you breathe, trying to summon every little ounce of energy you have left. You force ypur eyes to meet his. "That’s right, Azriel." Your eyes lock with his. "And I’ll remember your damn name forever…" You push up, getting on your knees. "Until I do my last breathe. I will personally carve it into your grave stone. And you will remember my name. Forever."

Your teeth are bared, blood and drool running down your chin. "You will remember my name when I rip open your throat with my claws. You will remember my name when—"

"Let’s go, Az. Our job here is done. The High Lord expects us to be back by now."

Azriel is not alone. Someone is with him. Cassian, one of the best Illyrian warriors there are. Right now…his usual confidence is gone. He looks haunted, scared, impatient. He wants Azriel to come with him. Right in this moment.

But Azriel’s lingers. The male doesn’t move. Not even when Cassian clasps his shoulder - tightly. 

Azriel's gaze is trained on you, eyes wide open.

"Az," Cassian warns, curling his gloved fingers around Azriel's biceps. "We need to leave."

Azriel snaps out of his trance and finally averts his gaze, without a look back, they leave, wind blowing through the prison, thrashing against the walls, howling. 

You are alone. Cold. Bloody. Broken. 

A cry parts your lips - full of fury and pain. You thrash your fists against the cool ground, moist with mould and grimy water. 

You are trapped in a cell that seems to be suffocating you, its walls seeming to press inwards, the space getting narrower and narrower by the second. 

You are locked in. Forever. Until the last day of your immortal life. Or until you go insane and forget even your own name. 

Another scream leaves you. Your body is shaking, trembling with cold and hurt. Eventually, you lift your gaze to look around. There is just a small cot draped in a thin blanket and a weathered stool and nothing else. The walls are made of dark stone. Moss and lichen crawl up on them, making decay even more apparent in this place. They bear scars—scratches of beings who have been in this cell before you. 

The air is heavy, thick with desperation. And it is cold. So damn cold, making you see your own breath.

You know this a place where spirits are broken, where the very essence of a person is eroded when you go insane. But your spirit won't be broken. You will get out. 

Shadows dance across the walls and make you remember him. 

Azriel. The shadowsinger. You will remember him forever. Until the day you die. Until the day you personally carve out his heart. 

He left you in pieces and the shards for you to pick up with your already wounded hands.

He is going to pay for this. They all are. 

Nothing is visible through the narrow, slit-like window that seems more like a mockery than a source of light. But you can hear a storm raging outside, branches and the wind hitting the walls of the Prison and it matches the storm brewing inside of you. You won't die here. You will get out of here. And you will get your payback. This is a promise. 

A promise to Azriel. A promise to your mate.

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

tags wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesssav @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb

[paleroze]

Blade Imagines

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

How unfortunate of you.. here you tried your best to parry his attacks, although it became futile as the impact of both of your weapon makes you stumble yet remains on your feet, putting all your weight and grip on your hands and feet.

Blade had a sinister smile on his face, his look makes it clear that he wants to kill, only spill blood with the use of his sword.

The mara..

"Blade!" You called for his name, as much as possible trying to avoid wounding him, yet what difference does it make? He heals, the wound heals. You groan when he kicks you on your side, barely blocking it with your other hand when you notice in the peripheral vision of yours, still you went flying due to the force he puts to kick you.

You groan, and a shadow looms over you just when you open your eyes Blade was in the air with the sword ready to strike you down. Rolling over to avoid him, all you did was parry, avoid his attacks, never once you inflicted a wound, your weapon never makes contact with his immortal body.

Standing up, you look around for a mere moment before you block his sword again, stupid enough to use your arms which causes you to bleed.

Fuck..

You kick him on his stomach as you try to form a plan to calm his mara down.

Blade was quick to get up, he fight and fights like he was made for it. You're getting tired, and beginning to be reckless, your moves faltering as your body began to hurt from the wound and slashes he inflicted.

All you did was avoid and block, yet with his brute force it even took an energy out of you.

"Why would you say that?"

"The mara... In my case, it is different from others. I can't trust myself to be with you if it strikes once more." He spoke in almost a whisper. Blade remains to lay his head on your lap as you play with his hair.

It has been a while since he showed this much affection, you know of his lack of showing and touch. Thus this moment, you always cherish it whenever he lets himself be vulnerable to you, only you.

Blade has his hand on your thighs, his thumb caressing the flesh as he stares from the distance, but your eyes remain on him, not on the stunning view you were staring at just a few moments ago before he came.

"Is it why you are always hiding from me?" You chuckle, braiding his hair messily. Blade didn't answer.

"It does not matter, as long as you return to me, it is enough." You kissed his hair, and Blade turns to look at you. He palms your cheek which you lean on to.

"I want you to run away from me when the mara strikes."

"Is there nothing I can help you to calm it down?" You worry, because you know there will be a day you have to face him with the intent to kill anything that he deems killable.

"I don't know. Kafka is the only one that can control it."

Then you have hope, you smile, "I'll make sure to call her when you are not yourself."

In a secluded place, with your phone being broken by Blade, there was no hope of calling the only person that can calm him. You are alone with Blade, he made sure you would be so that no one can interrupt your one sided battle.

"Blade, it's me." You tried to call him, summoning your weapon when he strikes again and you fall on your feet from the force. He grabbed your arm tightly which causes you to drop your weapon and he kicks it away from you, from his grip you are sure he broke your hand, making you scream in pain.

Had there been many times you've been wounded while protecting your home, you are familiar with the pain, still.. it hurts.

Your back meets the wall when Blade kicks you, and you feel your ribs being broken from the impact.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

You know of the pain, but not this pain where the love of your life inflicts the pain.

You try to sit up with the remaining strength you have, leaning on the wall. With the blurry sight, you see Blade making his way towards you, the sword on his hand glows faintly. You look at his face, there is nothing you can read, whether there will be a hurt look on his face, or regret, anything. But there was none. Perhaps the task on his mind was to kill you, maybe that you can formulate as he stands in front of you.

Your chest hurts, it was only then you had realized that his sword plunged on your chest.

Ah, this must be it for me.

You both look at each other, one that shows no emotion, the other with a pained expression. You lift your hand to hold the bandaged hand that impaled you.

"My love... Are you satisfied?" You mumbled, each time you opened your mouth the pain in your chest worsened, but you continued.

You tried to pull out the sword, but he pushed deeper, causing you to groan in pain, he kept you pinned on the wall with his sword.

He won't even let himself be touched by you.

With the strength you have left, you still tried to reach for him, your hand meeting his face and you pull him closer and gentle, eager to at least kiss him before you go.

"Blade.."

You never knew if your lips met his.

[biggestxsimps]

Last Embrace

A/N: I am so sorry for not posting the last couple of months, I've had the worst bloody writers block. I know how much y'all like the Ghost fics so I hope you guys enjoy this! This one's a bit sad, even though angst isn't my strong suit, I really liked writing this and I think it turned out okay.

Just a disclaimer, I know nothing about the military and even less about dying so just let me know of any inaccuracies and I'll fix em.

WARNINGS: blood, mentions of guns and bullet wounds, normal war shenanigans, death (Let me know if I'm missing anything.)

During a mission, everything took a turn for the worse. Ghost urgently gave the order for everyone to evacuate, swiftly conducting a head count, only to realize that Y/N was missing. Filled with concern, he called out for him over the radio. "C/S? C/S, how copy?" Ghost's grip tightened on the radio at the lack of a response. "C/S?! Y/N, what's your position?"

Worry builds deep in Ghost's stomach, an almost nausea-like feeling coursing through him as he speaks through the radio once more. "Y/N. Y/N! I need your location!"

Y/N groans as he hears a loud ringing in his ears, one that fills his mind and brings an ache to his head. His eyes remain shut as he tries to ground himself, though the sound of a familiar voice in his left ear makes his lids slowly blink open.

Though his vision is blurry and everything feels fuzzy, Y/N places a hand on his shoulder and clicks the button on the radio. "Ghost? That you?" Y/N's strained and weak voice makes Ghost sigh in relief. "Ah fuck. Thank god, Y/N." Ghost's voice calms down as he speaks again, his voice stern as he tries to get an answer out of the other man.

"Where are you, Y/N?"

Y/N groans as he tries to look around, his vision still blurred enough to not be able to see anything in detail, he had little to no memory of what he'd been doing before, and the visible bright white walls and floor made him want to close his eyes again. Y/N speaks up once more, his voice holding a slight amusement. "Don't know.. I can't see properly. I'm inside a building, though."

Ghost seems to feel slightly more at ease once he hears Y/N speak, he was glad the man was okay enough to be able to smile through his pain. "Can you see anything? Anything at all?" Ghost looks around at the buildings in the area, Y/N could be anywhere.

"White walls and floors.. I can't make out anything else, though... That help at all?"

Y/N lets his body press against the cold wall behind him, relishing in the relaxing chill shooting through his body. He starts to take a few deep breaths as he tries to keep himself stable, slowly looking around the bare walls, the paint cracked and peeling. His vision gets torn away though, the bright lights starting to flicker, the hall flashing from eerily dark to painfully bright.

An annoying buzz was audible as the light stopped blinking, remaining on. Y/N could see debris on the ground, he wasn't surprised, this was a warzone after all. Y/N slowly closes his eyes, letting himself relax.

Though the feeling of a sharp pain makes his eyes shoot open, a pained noise escapes the man as he looks down at his body. His eyes widened as his gaze trailed down; the only thing he could make out was blood–blood covering his abdomen, blood covering his hands, and blood covering the floor.

Shit.

"Yeah, that helps, Y/N. I'll be there soon, you stay there, alright?" Ghost's voice was gentle, like he was trying to keep the man at ease. But Y/N wasn't listening, his eyes were too focused on the bloody mess in front of him. Y/N's throat starts to close up, the intense smell of the blood making him feel sick.

He brings his hands to the wound, pulling his warm, sticky, blood-soaked shirt up as he tries his best to judge the severity of it. His heart drops as he sees multiple bullet holes piercing his skin, cringing at the amount of blood still escaping him. He was hit with a sudden realization.

"Y/N, you still with me? I'm not far, just stay alive f'me, okay?"

"Ghost.. I don't think I'm gonna make it.."

Ghost's body fills with dread, his heart aching at the sound of Y/N's discouraged and afraid voice. Ghost shakes his head, trying to sprint even faster, his breathing ragged as he speaks through the radio. "Shut it. You're gonna be alright. I'm gonna make it to you, and then we're gonna get you out of here. Alive."

Ghost tries to keep his tone confident, but the shake in his voice shows just how worried he was. He knew that he had to make it there quickly if he wanted the best chance at saving Y/N. His words were rushed as he repeated himself, wanting to hear that Y/N believed him. "Do I make myself clear? I'm getting you out of here alive."

Y/N can't help but slowly shake his head to himself, he could see his wound, he could see how quickly he was losing blood, he could feel the way his body was slowly going numb. His breaths escape him at an uneven pace, his heart racing as he comes to terms with the situation. "Ghost.. I'm losing too much blood. I can't.."

"Yes, yes, you can. You will survive Y/N, I know you will. You have to.."

Ghost ran, ran like he's never done before. He couldn't lose Y/N, not now, not like this. The building was in sight, he was so close to being with Y/N, being able to help him, save him. Ghost could feel the burn in his legs and his lungs and the hard thumping of his pulsing heart. The dry feeling in his throat makes him want to take a breath, but he doesn't stop running, not for a second.

As Ghost ran into the building, Y/N could hear him, his loud footsteps echoing against the bare halls. "I'm here, can you tell me exactly where you are?" Y/N could hear Ghost's urgent yet puffed out voice from both the radio and from the right side of the building, the sound not too far away.

"I can hear you, Ghost.. You're to my right." Y/N's voice was the opposite of Ghost's, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, and the strain already being put on his body by the wound, made it impossible to speak any louder without putting himself in even more pain.

"Okay, just.. Just stay there. I'm nearly there, you're gonna be okay."

Y/N's eyes drift to the right side of the building, hearing Ghost's heavy footsteps hitting against the ground. A small and pained smile forms on Y/N's face as he sees the masked man come into sight, watching as he quickly rushes towards him.

A feeling of relief swarms through Ghost's body as he sees Y/N sitting against one of the walls, though the condition the other man was in made his worry come right back. He quickly makes it to Y/N, dropping to his knees as he brings his hands to Y/N's body. "Y/N.. Fuck..." He can't help but take a second to look into Y/N's eyes, his own brown ones showing extreme vulnerability, a look of pure fear.

Y/N lets out a dry and painful sounding chuckle, trying to ease Ghost a little. "Mhm.. it's me." Y/N brings one of his shaky and bloodied hands up, letting it just hover over Ghost's covered cheek, not wanting to get his blood all over Ghost's mask. Ghost doesn't seem to care though, letting his face gently push into Y/N's hand.

Ghost lets out a shaky breath as he feels Y/N's hand against his face. "You're.. You're gonna be okay.. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright? I promise." Y/N gently shakes his head, his small smile faltering as he pulls his other arm away from his wound.

Ghost's eyebrows furrow as he sees Y/N's reaction to his words, but before he can speak, his eyes move down to where Y/N had moved his arm from. Ghost feels his heart shatter as the sight, multiple bullet wounds scattered across his abdomen, blood slowly seeping from each one.

Ghost shakes his head, almost frantically as he brings both hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding with his gloved palms. All he manages to achieve though is flooding Y/N's body in pain, evident by the startled cries leaving the injured man.

"Fuck.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just let me stop the bleeding, let me.."

Ghost's panicky voice trails off as he sees Y/N's wounds only bleeding more aggressively at his touch. He shakes his head, looking down at the other man's body as he keeps his hands on the wound. The blood soaks through Ghost's gloves, the warm and gory liquid uncomfortably sticking to his skin.

Y/N's hands instinctively reach Ghost's wrists, pulling the other man's hands away. "Fuck! Stop.. stop, Ghost." Y/N's grip was weak and his body had little to no strength now. Ghost slowly pulls his own shaky hands away. "I'm sorry.. I just.. you're gonna be okay, I'm gonna find some way to stop the bleeding, and then we'll.. we'll go back home. We're gonna-".

"Simon."

Ghost's mouth shuts at the use of his real name, an audible gulp being heard. His eyes trail back up to look into Y/N's, the look the other man gave him only made his heart sink, he felt like his world was falling apart. "Please.. we both know I'm not making it out of here.. just-"

"You are. You're going to make it out of here. Shut up with that nonsense." Ghost doesn't want to hear it, he refuses to hear it, to acknowledge it.. to accept it. He tried to keep his voice stern but the tremble that grew with each word made it obvious he wasn't all too hopeful either.

He slowly pulls his hands out of Y/N's grasp, bringing them back down to the surrounding area of the wound, his quivering fingers gently trailed over the scarred skin. He pulled off his gloves, using his bare hands to touch Y/N.

"You.. you can't... You're all I have left.."

Ghost's voice softened, his words paining him as they left his mouth. Y/N rests his hand back onto Ghost's mask, sliding it slightly down as he slips a couple fingers underneath the mask. The injured man remains silent, afraid of the emotion that'll leave him if he dared to speak up.

Ghost feels Y/N's fingers slide underneath the mask, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach. He brings one of his bare palms to Y/N's hand, holding it in place before slowly, cautiously, pulling his mask over and off his head.

The sight of the rugged man made Y/N meekly smile, his heart fluttering at the long-awaited reveal of the subject of his attraction. He had been into Ghost for quite a while, and he always had a suspicion that Ghost felt the same. It was almost a silent understanding between both men, never outwardly speaking of their true feelings yet knowing they felt them.

Ghost looks down, his eyes falling shut as his grip on the other man's hand tightens, holding him closer against his now bare face. He didn't care for the blood the other man's hand was rubbing onto his skin, he needed this, he needed the Y/N's gentle touch.

"Thank you.." Ghost slowly opened his eyes at the other man's pained voice, watching as Y/N slumps further down the wall, groaning at the pressure it relieved from his wounds.

Y/N lets out a small hum at the feeling of the cold floor pressing against his back, a stark contrast to the warm liquid pouring out the front of him.

Ghost slightly shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he questions the other man. "What are you doing?" The other man signals for Ghost to come closer, his voice strained but trying to keep it sounding as optimistic as he could despite the situation.

"Getting comfortable.. Come here."

Ghost does just that, shuffling closer to the man that was now laying flat on the ground, looking down at him, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the man's appearance. One of Y/N's weak hands moves to Ghost's arm, gently pulling him even closer.

"Sit down, relax." Y/N was oddly calm despite the situation, despite knowing his undeniable fate. "Relax? How am I supposed to-" Y/N tugs at Ghost's arm, interrupting him. "Please." The desperation in Y/N's voice made Ghost's stomach wrench, he silently sat beside him, bringing his hands to hold onto Y/N's.

Y/N gratefully hums, his eyes looking over the other man before making a request, pleading evident in his tone. "Think you could hold me..? Jus' for a bit?" Ghost nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around Y/N's shoulders, gently pulling him into his arms.

His senses were heightened, he could feel everything, the warm blood starting to soak through his own shirt and the shake in Y/N's body. The rough and cold hands of the other man, weakly wrapped over whatever part of Ghost he could reach. Y/N lays in his arms, weak and helpless, his skin losing colour and his body shaking more rapidly...

For the first time that evening, Ghost came to terms with what was going to happen, he couldn't deny it any longer, not when it was so obvious. His eyes tear up, his heart thumping louder as all he can do is pull Y/N closer, hold the injured man in his arms as he wishes for this to just be some twisted nightmare.

He couldn't keep himself calm anymore, waves of emotions crashing onto him, flooding his mind and filling his body with unease. His grip tightened, the fabric of Y/N's clothes balling up in his fists, he just pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go, not now, not ever.

"Hey.. Simon."

Y/N looks up at the man holding him, watching as he struggles to hold in the tears his body so desperately wants to let fall. Y/N's cold fingers trace along Ghost's cheek, pulling his face a little closer, his voice quieter and more strained than before. "It's gonna be okay.."

Though the injured man was smiling in a way to comfort Ghost, his true feelings were obvious. His eyes held fear, a fear Ghost had never seen on the usually optimistic man before.

He knew he had to be strong, he knew that whatever fear he felt right now, Y/N was feeling tenfold. He took deep breaths, trying to gather himself. He felt his throat close up, he couldn't speak, not without breaking down completely, he could only nod in reply. He brought a trembling hand down to Y/N's face, his rough fingers caressing the skin with a softness Ghost didn't know he was capable of.

Y/N closed his eyes, humming at the gentle touch, and the contrasting feeling of Ghost's warm hand pressing against his chilled cheek. His presence was comforting, it almost felt like he was cuddled up against a cosy fireplace, like the flames were crackling in front of him and leaving warm kisses on his cheek.

It was a nice thought, a nice feeling, but it seemed like the pain in his abdomen did anything it could to bring Y/N out of his calming mindset. It felt like his body was on fire, but also like he had been out in the cold for days. His feet were numb now and he could feel the way his legs and fingertips also started to lose their senses.

He looked up at Ghost, tears had started to form in his own eyes, ones that were impossible to hide. "I'm scared.. you'll be here.. right? Please.. don't let me go, not yet.." His voice was faint, filled with an uneasy panic. Ghost started to nod, bringing his face closer down, letting his lips press against Y/N's cold forehead.

"..yes, yes.. I'll be r-right here. I'm not moving.. I'm not letting you go..."

Y/N closes his eyes, his head falling to the side slightly as he sighs. "Y'know.. I always looked up to you, Simon.." He leans his head deep into Ghost's chest, his tears slowly falling as he feels his body go numb. He had lost all feeling in his arms and legs, even the ache in his abdomen had started to ease. Ghost shakes his head slowly, biting his lower lip in an attempt to hold in the sobs he so desperately wanted to let go.

"I love you, Simon."

Ghost pulled Y/N closer, letting out quiet, choked sounds. He felt Y/N's body start to go limp in his arms, his hands desperately pulling at the other man's body to hold him in a comforting embrace. "I.. I love you too... Fuck.. don't do this to me.."

"I'm sorry.." Y/N moves his head, digging his face further into the other man's chest. All he could smell and hear was Ghost, the man he had grown so attached to. It brought him some comfort, knowing he would be dying in Ghost's arms, not alone. "Forgive me.."

"Always, Y/N.. always.."

Y/N lets out a weak hum, slightly nodding his head as his body relaxes in Ghost's arms, his head now starting to fall limp, being too heavy for Y/N to move. "..thank you..." Y/N's voice was barely audible, his mumble causing Ghost's heart to shatter.

"Always.. a-always... I-I'm here.. always..."

Ghost cradled the dying man in his arms, soothingly whispering as he slowly swayed his body side to side. "It's okay.. It's okay... You're safe.. you're safe with me.." Y/N's voice was practically inaudible as he tried to mumble back to the other man, his incoherent slurs trailing off into silence.

Ghost felt as if his whole world was crashing down right before his eyes. He could only pull Y/N closer, continuing to cradle the fallen soldier. His movements became a little more frantic as he rocked their bodies, his fingers clawing at Y/N's cold skin.

"Shit- I'm so sorry... I-It's okay.. It's gonna be okay.. It's gonna be okay..."

He whispered into the other man's ear, his voice broken as he felt the tears he had been suppressing, finally fall freely. His words started as a means to comfort his dying partner, but it seemed like he was only trying to convince himself now. He mumbled a mantra of 'It's okay' and 'I love you', the words just tumbling out without his control.

His body trembled, his throat letting out more choked sobs now than it had in the last 10 years, his eyes were screwed shut, his head dug into Y/N's frozen neck. His hands tried their best to pull Y/N's limp head up, his tears pouring down his bloody cheeks as the other man's head just dropped back down.

If only he made it there sooner, if only he was there to protect him; none of this would've happened. He wouldn't be here, holding the corpse of the man that showed him what it was like to be alive, how to feel, how to love. The one person that had been able to break down his walls and make him feel human again.

It felt like hours, hours of cradling his deceased lover in his arms like a child, hours of sobbing and mourning the one person that brought light into this cruel world.

"Ghost? Do you copy?"

Ghost heard the static of his radio before the familiar voice of his Captain rung through his ears. "Ghost?" Ghost's teeth grit as he hesitantly brought his hand to the radio on his shoulder, forcefully composing himself before clicking the button. "I'm here." He looked down at the deceased man in his arms, hugging him close as his body threatened to break down once more.

"Evac's here, did you reach C/S?"

Ghost lets out a shaky breath, his fingers shaking as he grips the radio. "C/S's.. C/S's been KIA." His hand falls from the radio, his blood-stained fingers gently caressing Y/N's cold cheek, gently pulling his face closer. Ghost couldn't help but admire the other man, his eyes closed and his eyebrows relaxed. His lips were tugged into a small smile, his skin devoid of its usual colour. He looked.. peaceful.

There was a few seconds of silence from the other line before it was cut by Price's voice once more. "I'm sorry, Ghost." Ghost placed a soft kiss on Y/N's bloody forehead, speaking through the radio one last time, leaving no room for argument. "I'll be there in a few, I'm takin' him with me."

Ghost snatched his mask from the floor beside him, pulling it on before scooping Y/N into his arms. He lifted him up, holding his limp body against his chest as he whispered. "It's gonna be okay.. I've got you.." He held the man tightly, his eyes glancing down at Y/N's motionless figure every few steps he took.

"I've got you..."

A/N: Could you tell I struggled ending this? I won't lie, I teared up a couple times while writing this, I think this might be the saddest thing I've written. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated, especially since I'm still not too familiar with Ghost's personality. This is also my longest fic ever, about 3.4k words!

Also a big thank you for over 400 followers, we're so appreciative of all your support!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

[the-guilty-writer]

I second the ask about Hotch's daughter with endometriosis!!! I'd like to see that

I just finished it ♡

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

You truly wondered how women with endometriosis survived periods before thermotherapy products were invented. Hot water bottles and heating pads were a necessity for you during this time of the month. It wasn’t that they made the pain go away - they just made it bearable enough to allow you small bits of time where you could do something more than laying down.

At the moment, a hot water bottle and a maxed out dose of Ibuprofen were holding you together - barely. After twenty minutes at school, you were sent home by your English teacher, who was concerned about your nauseous complexion. Somehow, you'd managed to do some make-up work before taking a long (and much-needed) nap.

With your dad away on a case, the list of chores was longer than normal, but the pain made moving nearly impossible, much less cleaning. Dishes needed to be put away, the kitchen table needed to be cleared, and he laundry hamper was flooded with clothes, but there was no way you could do any of it while your insides felt like they were going to fall out. The only thing you absolutely had to do was pick Jack up from school. Everything else could wait.

All the energy you’d gathered went into the ten minute drive to and from picking up your brother. He requested a snack as soon as you got home, which you somehow managed to make him food without screaming in pain. It took every ounce of energy you had left to sit at the table with your brother as he did his homework.

The pain and fatigue clouded your brain, so much so that you hardly noticed the door to the apartment open.

“Dad!” Jack jumped up his seat and down the hall toward him.

“Hey buddy,” Hotch said. The tone of his voice was a testament to his exhaustion, but a happiness to be home.

“Dad, I made this painting in art class and I really want to show you. It's in my bedroom. Come look!” Jack didn’t give your dad a moment of rest.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Jack’s feet pounded against the floor, running to his room in anticipation. Your dad’s longer, slower footsteps followed behind. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, you could tell the case has been a hard one. He looked beyond exhausted, horrors still haunting his eyes and crushing his spirit. Not even your little brother's innocent greeting could extinguish what your dad had endured over the past few days.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster up.

“Hi sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss atop your head before moving to the kitchen. “Where are all the plates?”

A displeasement crossed your dad’s face. You'd meant to empty the dishwasher earlier that day, but the pain body had stopped you.

“Still in the dishwasher,” you said, holding back a wince as your stomach cramped.

“I thought we talked about this.”

“We did, but-”

“You’re almost an adult. I expect you to start showing up like one.” He was calm but stern. Unblinking eyes bore into you. It made you want to cry.

Hotch turned and left the kitchen, his calm footsteps indicating he was going to Jack's room.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you stood up and carefully made your way to the dishwasher to unload it. As soon as you leaned over to lower the door, a stabbing sensation penetrated your gut. Dizziness washed over your head and blackened your vision. In an instant, you had crumbled to the floor.

You weren't even aware that you'd let out a cry of pain until your dad was kneeling next to you, a gentle hand caressing your face. Through teary, blurry vision, you could just make out the worry in his fearures.

“It hurts,” you choked out.

“I know,” he said gently. “I'm here. I've got you.”

Strong arms lifted you off the kitchen floor, carrying you to the couch. A heating pad was laid across your stomach and a straw was brought up to your lips with the gentle encouragement to drink.

When you managed to open your eyes, Hotch was next to you, a look of concern on his normally serious face.

"Hi, sweetheart." The words were the same as before, but his tone was different.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Here," Hotch brought a hand behind your back and used the other to hand you a bottle of water, "have some water."

You took gentle sips. Your father’s hand still rested on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't make me get up." It was true.

"No, but I jumped to conclusions about what you were able to do and it made you feel like you had to do something that caused you pain." Sometimes having a profiler for a dad was a good thing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said.

Hotch helped you lay down again, covering you with a warm blanket. "Can I get you anything?"

You snuggled into the blanket and adjusted the heating pad to sit in the best place for easing pain. "Just the TV remote."

Your dad smiled - his small but rare smile - before handing you the remote. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with watching bad TV and chick flicks, but he didn't mind. If it made you just a little more comfortable, then it was worth it.

[staarlight-snow]

Murky Waters (part 2) - Island of the Slaughtered

TW: Gorey descriptions, Strong/Foul language

[Inspired by "last thoughts" by muridaecorps]

My take/interpretation of Noah's death

Part 1

"You know what? Fuck you." Noah blurted out. He gripped unto his book – quickly turning around. Storming off, heading towards the forest. "Noah! You can't just leave it's not safe!" Someone called out. "Tsk.. Let him be." Duncan crossed his arms, "He'll come running back in seconds." After all what kind of idiot would actually run off just like that.

Stupid island, stupid Duncan, stupid fucking Chris. He hated being stuck in a small island with a killer on a loose, who wouldn't? But he hated putting his safety in the hands of a jerky deliquent who does nothing but boss everyone around. Who does Duncan even think he is? Just because he's been in juvenile detention and he's punk doesn't mean he's right for a leadership role.

He continued to angrily make his way deeper into the forest. Stopping at his tracks. Fuck. He was lost. Shit. He was far away from the others. He quickly turned around, retracing his steps.

Noah you fucking idiot, he cursed himself. He quickened his pace, realizing the situation he was at. The sun was setting, the forest was getting darker and all the trees started to look the same.

Then there it was. His body froze up. Shit. He swear his heart dropped right down to his stomach. His breathing became frantic and his mind became hazy. The bushes started to rustle as the figure got closer. So he ran.

He ran, fast. He ran, for his life. No, no, no, no. It can't end like this. He promised Cody they'd get out of there. Not like this please. He still had plans for his future, aspirations and dreams. Of course! Everyone did.

He felt a stream of tears roll down his cheeks as he ran faster. He hated this so much. He hated himself for not participating in any kinds of sports. He ran as quick as he could.

He stopped by a tree to catch his breath. Bad idea right? He just needed a breather, even for a few seconds. His nails dug deep into the novel in his hands. His heart beated faster than he could possibly have ever felt. He looked behind him. Nothing.

He tried to steady his breathing. Just for a second. He started to regret everything, signing that stupid contract, arguing with Duncan, storming off. He regret it all. He closed his eyes. He just wants to go home. He just to leave. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to get back to camp. He wanted to see Cody again, he seemed to forget every little thing he hated about Cody – cause right now, all he wanted was his friend.

He opened his eyes to a burning feeling around his neck. His eyes widened. Fuck. He dropped the book and desperately tried to get the rope off him. He caught a glimpse of the sickened man behind him, he grinned at the poor teen.

"P-please..." He choked out, "I.. I don't wanna die-" He cried. There was no point. Did he really think a cold-hearted murderer would spare his life?

The rope stung against his neck and it hurt more from the scratches he made attempting to get rid of it. He mind felt hazy and he was light-headed. He fell over, too weak to move from where he was. Fuck.

He was still breathing. Barely. But it gave him a slight taste of hope. He was in terrible shape but maybe he could survive this. If he pretended to be dead and out cold maybe the murderer would leave him there. Or so he thought.

He cried out, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder. His vision was blurry but he saw it. The knife, deep into him. No. He felt light, he was being carried. Next thing he knew everything was cold, dark and wet. Fuck.

His blood pooled around the pond. He wanted to get out, swim. He knew he could swim but his body was too weak. Slowly, he gave up and succumbed to his death.

It's unfair.

--

Sequel ish

[starrystevie]

based on this post because i couldn't read it and not picture it as anything but steddie

the house is quiet. it's steve's favorite time of the day when everything feels still, comfortable and warm, like a cozy cocoon that his family has built around themselves. daisy is curled up at his side like a personal heater, her head resting peacefully on steve's stomach as they snuggle in bed. he knows eddie will come in after finishing up the kids' bedtime story and yell at him for letting the dog on the bed, but steve knows he'll get away with it once they both turn puppy dog eyes on him. he always does.

steve's just about to put his bookmark in between the pages of his book and turn off the bedside light for the night when there is what can only be explained as a commotion on the other side of the house. it startles both steve and daisy, her big head perking up immediately, cocked to the side as she tries to place the sound before jumping off onto to the floor. steve follows quickly and is standing fast enough that his vision goes a bit blurry.

he hasn't had this fear in a long time. he hasn't felt the need to reach for the bat under his bed in years. his heart starts to beat a tick faster, but then he hears it.

they're laughing.

both he and daisy make their way down the hallway to the kids room where streams of multicolored light spills out over the hardwood from the mini disco ball josephine just had to have. he doesn't even make it halfway to their room when he hears just what they're all laughing about.

"dad, do the voices! you always do the voices!"

by the time steve is leaning against the open doorway, he sees it: his home. it's his kids, josephine and winnie, sitting up excitedly in their beds. winnie's damn near falling out of her bed as she tries to sneak peeks at the pages of their bedtime story. and it's eddie, salt and pepper hair piled on top of his head with glasses almost falling off his nose as he reaches his hands up to imitate some sort of soldier or king or something steve can't figure out.

eddie's yelling some speech with a big boisterous voice, the girls are shrieking with smiles wide enough to split their faces, and steve can't do anything other than take it all in. daisy pushes past him and goes to jump on joey's bed, kissing her into another laughing fit.

"my king!" eddie says once he's spotted steve, bending to one knee with a closed fist over his heart. josephine pulls herself up to her knees on her bed to copy her dad and winnie, who will do anything her big sister does, follows suit. "to what do we owe this most wonderful pleasure?"

eddie's smiling this mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling like the stars the girls stuck to the walls, and steve feels that familiar tug in his heart that always seems to come around when he thinks about how damn lucky he is. he playfully rolls his eyes in opposition of how much love he feels and hurries across the room to press a quick kiss to the top of his head.

"at ease," steve murmurs, his voice a little flat. he's not as good at the fantasy voices as eddie is. "just had to come see what all the ruckus was about."

eddie scrunches his nose, standing back up and pressing a kiss of his own to steve's cheek. he can hear the girls behind them faking a gag, winnie's tiny elongated 'ewwwww' barely audible over how loud joey's acting is. when he gets a good look at them, josephine has found a way to lay across her bed to play dead and it forces a giggle out of winnie.

"why do you guys have to be so gross all the time?" josephine says, picking her head up only to drop it back down, eyes closed and tongue sticking out.

"to annoy you, obviously." steve's response it dry enough to have eddie chuckling at his side. "how much longer do you have?"

steve nods to the book and eddie looks down at where his finger is holding place. he scans over the pages, eyes growing larger when he realizes just how far away the end of the chapter is. he pulls the hand painted bookmark off of the girls' bedside table and sets the book down despite the groans it gets him in return.

"looks like we're done for the night, fair maidens."

"do we really have to be done, dad?" winnie's trying her hardest to get eddie to pick the book back up. her lip is pouted and her big brown eyes are wide enough that even steve almost caves to the 4 year old, but eddie's shaking his head and tucking her in instead.

"just for tonight, nugget," he whispers against the side of her head as he presses a kiss to her temple.

"but daaaaad-" josephine starts, fighting against steve as he tries to pull the blanket up to her chin.

"nope, no buts, joey girl. it's a school night anyway. you guys can read more tomorrow night."

with the girls grumbling, the two dads trade off kissing them each good night and steve flicks off the bedside lamp to leave only the disco ball flickering rainbow colors over the room. daisy curls up next to josephine who promptly picks up her covers to settle over them both.

when the door clicks shut, eddie lets an arm loop around steve's waist, bringing him in for a soft kiss. they pull away with a smile, crow-footed eyes crinkling in the low hallway light.

"sorry that we got too loud." eddie looks sheepish in that endearing way that he knows will get him of the hook, but steve just shakes his head before reaching his hand up to pick the reading glasses off his husband's face.

"no need to be sorry. you know i love seeing them that happy."

when they turn off the light for the night, tangled around each other before flopping onto their sides of the bed, steve breathes in deep. he gives his husband a kiss goodnight and doesn't think about the bat under his bed. instead, he thinks about his family, winnie's big brown eyes and josephine's toothy grin and eddie's hand forever in his own, comfortable and warm in the home they built around each other.

[vhagarlovebot]

Thinking about modern!aemond at a in his sweater and chain just wanting to go home with his so

aemond was dragged to a party by his two brothers. he would have preferred to stay at home with you but you were too busy studying for finals to care. that is how’s been for the past two weeks and he feels neglected. so right now getting drunk with cheap beer and shots of tequila sounds like the perfect idea.

“woah, slow down!” daeron pats his brother’s shoulder, making him spill the liquid onto the table “why are you doing this?” he asks, laughing.

“i don’t know what you mean.” aemond shrugs, taking his red cup filled with beer. “you wanted me here, now that i’m having fun you don’t like it?”

“he’s mad because his girlfriend,” aegon hides his smile behind his own cup of alcohol. “doesn’t want him anymore.”

aemond punches him in the ribs which only makes his brother laugh. taking one last shot of tequila, he shoves his younger brother aside.

“i’m out of here.” neither of them stop him, too drunk to care and too smart to know not to fight aemond.

his uber takes him to the only place he wants to be at that moment: between your arms.

aemond has all the symptoms of a person who’s drunk, vision blurry and little balance. when you open the door you find him struggling to keep standing. you don’t know how he made it up the stairs and all the way to your apartment.

“you stink of alcohol.” helping him to your bedroom is something you don’t want to experience again. he’s one big man and doesn’t help you at all, which only makes you feel even angrier with him. “what were you thinking? you’re not like this.”

he climbs onto bed and you’re quick to help him with his shoes—leaving only with his boxers and his grey sweater—but he doesn’t say anything. you stop to look at him and find him already looking at you with a sad face.

“don’t you want me anymore?” you frown, confused by his choice of words. “you’ve barely paid attention to me all week.”

it shouldn’t make you laugh but his state is enough to amuse you. of course aemond doesn’t like your reaction, it makes him feel stupid, so he does the only thing that crosses his mind… he pouts.

“i am so, so sorry,” you climb onto bed with him and his face lights up. you stroke his silver hair, big blue eyes looking up at you. “it won’t happen again, i promise. i wouldn’t want to neglect my favorite boy.”

it looks like your words are enough to make him feel better, though he probably will forget all about it in the morning. but it doesn’t matter, not at this moment, not when he’s just where he wanted to be; between your arms.

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, 18+ NSFW (Minors DNI), smut, regret of sexual acts, alcohol consumption, age difference, jealousy, general angst, secrecy, not edited

Word Count: 4.6k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: We had some drama in the last part, but things are going to start getting a little unhinged, buckle up! The next part probably won't be up until the beginning of next week. Try to ignore the fact that I can not and never have been able to keep the same tense through a whole story and I am a fan of run on sentences, its simply how my brain works lol. I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Thank you for all of the love thus far! Enjoy!

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One

---

You jolt awake to the feeling of a hand brushing over your forehead. You have absolutely no idea how long you’ve been asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. It could have been 10 minutes or five hours.

“Sorry, sorry, shhh it’s okay.” A familiar British accent soothes you, his hand still stroking your hair in a comforting manner.

“Lew?” You croak out, your voice much more hoarse than you had expected it to be.

“It’s me sweetie.” His voice stays low and comforting, “Why are you on the couch?”

It takes you a second to blink your eyes open, blurriness clouding your vision. When you finally see him, he looks exhausted, and maybe a little drunk.

“I was worried about you, tried to stay up” You mumble drearily, still not really awake.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay, no need to worry about me.” His large hand comes to rest on your cheek as you start to wake up a bit more.

“Where did you go?” You ask, trying to elbow yourself up on the couch slightly.

He frowns, looking away from you, “Don’t worry about it. How about you get to bed? I’m home now, no need for concern.”

You nod, getting up from the couch and heading towards the hallway where everyone is asleep. You pause for a moment, remembering that Talia has taken over your room. You glance at the clock over the bar, seeing that it’s past three in the morning. You know Charlotte offered for you to sleep with her but you feel bad possibly waking her after she's already been asleep for nearly four hours. You let out a deep sigh, turning back toward Lewis. He’s sitting on the couch where you left him, his legs wide with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, he looks distressed. He doesn’t seem to even realize that you're still in the room as you make your way over to the bar. You grab two fresh glasses, pouring the both of you a drink. His head snaps up as he hears the liquid pouring. You carefully make your way over to him, wordlessly offering him one of the glasses before you take a seat next to him.

“You should really go to bed Y/N.” He says without much meaning, taking a sip of the fresh Gin and Tonic, leaning back into the couch.

“Talk to me.” You say, ignoring his comment, curling yourself up into the couch. Your knees are to your chest as you face him, his arm coming up over the back of the couch, just barely above you.

“What do you even want me to say?” He laughs almost cynically.

“Where did you go tonight?” You ask against your better judgment. You’ve known Lewis long enough to know that when he says he doesn't want to talk about something, he truly doesn't, but your curiosity is getting the best of you.

He lets out a long sigh, leaning forward to set his drink down on the coffee table before looking toward you.

“I really don’t think you want to know Y/N.” He says, quickly lowering his eyes so he doesn't have to meet your eye contact.

“What do you mean?” You pry, placing your own glass on the table.

“I’ve been to this island quite a few times, I’ve gotten to know the good spots.” He starts, leaning forward to take a big sip out of his glass like he needs it to carry on with the story, “There’s this bar, maybe a mile away, it’s almost always open. I went there, just wanted a drink, alone, to cool down a bit. But… in all honesty, I just came from the hostesses apartment.”

“Oh.” You’re not quite sure how to respond.

“I know, it’s stupid, but I just needed to blow off some steam I guess.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary, however the look on his face is one of pure shame, he still won’t look at you.

“I mean, you’re a single adult, it doesn’t really matter I guess.” You try to sound confident however your voice wavers, unsure of how to properly navigate the situation.

“No Y/N, I might be but… the situation I left behind, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to anyone.” He lets out another deep sigh before continuing, “I really fucked up, and I think I fucked up with someone I really care about.”

This takes you by complete surprise, never would you have pegged Talia as someone Lewis would truly care about. You’ve always thought he was a decent judge of character when it comes to everyone but his play things. You really couldn’t imagine them as a true couple, they barely seemed to have anything in common. You felt a small pit form in your stomach, realizing that if he wanted to make things work with her, she would be around a whole lot more often. You couldn’t help but feel like that would be the demise of your friendship with Lewis, you doubt she would want you around after she made her feelings on you very clear.

You take a large swig of your drink, downing half of it in one sip, hoping to push away the ache that is starting to form in your chest. You don’t want to imagine a world without your friends, without Lewis, in your life. Despite having a million questions for him, you don’t push, not really in the mood to hear him confess his feelings for the woman you despise. He seems to be in a similar boat, acting to change the subject quickly.

“Where did you learn to make such a good drink, huh?” His voice is lighter now, almost teasing. You can tell he’s attempting to diffuse the conversation.

“I’m almost positive I’ve told you this before, but I used to be a bartender. It was my job in college.” You tell him, settling into the couch, just enjoying your uninterrupted time with him, “Besides, its a gin and tonic, it would be pretty sad if someone fucked that up.”

His laugh was tired but still held the boyish charm it always does, “Oh trust me, Miles can fuck up a gin and tonic. I’ve experienced it.” He looks at you with a smirk before continuing, “And no you’ve never told me that, because I’m certain if you had, that I would have told you that I too used to be a bartender.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him, wanting to hear more. You’ve only ever known of him as a racer, never even thinking of the possibility he did other things while getting to where he is now.

“Yup, back when I was like eighteen,” He nods, taking another sip of his drink, “my last day I got absolutely hammered though. I made myself try everything I’d been serving.”

You giggle, picturing a hammered teenage Lewis, “I should have thought of that on my last day. All I did was throw my apron at my manager and tell him to ‘go to hell’.”

“Ah, yes, a fantastic way to leave a job. I’m sure you got lot’s of good references from that one.” He teases you.

“Hey, he was a sexist pig, I don’t need references from someone like that.” You defend yourself.

“I’m sure you had plenty of good reasons, you always do.” He assures.

“Tell me more about you as a youngster. I only know grown adult Lew, I don’t know much about teenage Lew.” You prompt him, settling further into the couch, ready for a story.

He does the same, relaxing himself so his arm hangs just around your shoulders, pulling you into him slightly, “You know plenty about me as a kid.” He furrows his brow.

“Well I know the stuff that everybody else knows, I know the karting career, the underdog story, but I also thought I knew plenty about adult you before we met. I was very wrong about that though.” You laugh a little.

“Okay, fair. Well I was a royal pain in the ass when I first got to f1, my ego was sky high. It didn’t take long for me to settle down, thankfully, but I’ve definitely grown a lot since then.” He starts, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

You hum, urging him to continue. He tells you about his old partying habits, random fights he’d been in during his school days, how rivalries played out off track. He tells you about the Lewis you watched on the television for so many years, and you find it quite fascinating. You try so hard to keep listening, humming every once in a while to let him know that you're still there. You could listen to him talk for hours, his voice so soothing and peaceful. You try to fight your sleep, but it's useless, his voice lulls you into a peaceful slumber. You cuddle further into his arm as he tightens his hold on you, your head lands on his shoulder and you feel him rest his cheek against you, his own exhaustion taking over. The warmth of his body is so grounding and you can’t help but wish you could stay there, tucked against him, forever.

. . .

“Well it’s nice to see you’re alive.” You’re woken to the sound of Charlotte's voice in the kitchen. You’re alone on the couch, a blanket draped over you.

“It’s not like I disappeared for a week or something, I was gone for a couple hours. I’m fine Char.” You hear Lewis, you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice down, hoping not to wake anyone.

“No, not this time, but you’ve done that before and it scared the shit out of me.” Her voice sounds emotional. You feel bad eavesdropping but you perk up at that, intrigued as to what she’s talking about.

“That was different, you know that.” The tone in his voice tells you he’s trying to shut the topic down, not wanting to speak about it any further.

“Of course I know that, but it’s not like you to go awol on us like that. The only times you do are never good for you.” Charlotte says, her voice getting slightly louder.

“Keep it down, Y/N is still asleep, right there.” Lewis hushes her.

“Sorry,” Her voice is quiet again, “where did you even go last night?”

“I went and saw Marina.” His voice is much quieter now, like they’re exchanging secrets.

“Holy crap, how is she?” Charlotte sounds shocked, and almost a little concerned.

Now you’re incredibly confused. Lewis had told you he spent the night with some hostess from a bar, he hadn’t mentioned a name of any sort and you have no idea why Charlotte would know who she was.

“She’s definitely been better but she’s hanging in there. She wasn’t too impressed that I didn’t tell her I was gonna be in town.” He keeps his voice low.

“And how’s Leon?” Charlotte sounds almost giddy as she asks.

You know you should make your conscious presence known but it feels almost too late, they’ve gotten too far into what seems to be a very private conversation. You don’t want either of them to be mad at you, although they would have every right, you’re violating their privacy majorly.

“He’s good,” You can almost hear the smile on Lewis’s face as he speaks, “he’s getting freaking big. He comes up to my hip already.”

You can’t hear Charlotte's next comment as dishes clank around, one of them cleaning up the kitchen from the abandoned dinner the night before.

“Yeah, I just wish I could help them out more. I send them money but that doesn’t really make up for her being a single mom.” Lewis says.

“You do more than enough for them Lewis.” You hear Charlotte reassure him, “Why didn’t you tell her you were going to be in town?”

“I knew if I tried to go see her, Talia would want to come, and there’s no sense in introducing Leon to someone that he’s never gonna see again. It wouldn’t be fair.” Lewis sighs.

You stay so still on the couch, you’re not sure you’re even breathing, desperate to hear where the conversation goes. You have so many questions. Why would Lewis have told you he hooked up with someone instead of telling you the truth? Why does he feel so responsible for this kid? Is it his?

“Wassup bruv, good to see you’re in one piece.” You hear Miles' voice burst through the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation between Lewis and Charlotte.

You let out a small sigh, knowing you won’t learn anymore, at least for now. You stay on the couch for a few more minutes, listening to Miles harass Lewis about his insane guest, before you deem it long enough to safely make your presence known. You make your way off the couch, taking the blanket and wrapping it around yourself. You’re still in your swimsuit from yesterday and you feel disgusting, you desperately want a shower and some fresh clothing.

“Morning.” You greet the three of them quietly. Feeling the guilt of listening to them gnaw at your core.

“How’d you sleep?” Lewis asks, “Apologies if my shoulder isn’t the most comfortable pillow in the world.”

You laugh before responding, “Honestly, not bad, I think I could have fallen asleep on any surface last night.”

“I was waiting for my cuddles last night, I’m offended that I got beat out.” Charlotte sends a scowl in Lewis’s direction.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up, it was really late.” You give her a sympathetic smile, knowing she’s only really half joking.

“Yeah that brings up a problem that we currently have, the wicked witch is still here.” Miles points out, gesturing his thumb down the hall where she must still be sleeping.

“Yeah, I know, I’ll deal with it.” Lewis sighs, rolling his eyes. His response surprises you a bit, you wonder if he doesn’t want to make his feelings known to his other friends, that maybe it was a moment of weakness when he revealed it to you.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and placing a kiss to the top of your head before speaking quietly in your ear, “Your stuff is still in my room. How about you go take a shower and get dressed while I make you something to eat, sound good?”

You nod, whispering a quiet thank you before making your way down the hall and toward his bedroom. You had yet to actually step foot in his room but when you did you were in awe. He was staying in the suite, seeing as he had rented the house. His bed looked even more comfortable than the one in your room and his view was unmatched. There was a large terrace off the side of the room that you had only seen from outside. The room was big enough to hold a seating area that rivaled your living room at home. You found your bag, neatly placed on a chair, obviously picked up from wherever it had been chucked the night before. You rummaged through it hoping to find your bag of toiletries to go take a shower, huffing when you realized she hadn’t been that thorough while evicting you. You grab a clean change of clothes and make your way to the bathroom, hoping you can at least rinse off. The bathroom is just as impressive as the bedroom, an impressive combination of marble and teak that shouldn’t work as well as it does. The shower is massive with two large rainfall shower heads. You almost moan when you see it, eager to enjoy the hot water on your incredibly tense muscles. As you wait for the water to heat up you try to locate the towels, as you do, you see both Talia’s and Lewis’ body washes sitting on the counter. You contemplate stealing hers for a moment, but you don’t even want to smell like her. You opt to steal Lewis’s figuring he won’t mind.

The shower is just as therapeutic as you had hoped it would be and the clean clothes make you feel like a whole new person. As you walk past what used to be your bedroom you hear her moving around, you can only hope she’s finally packing and getting ready to leave. You end up finding Lewis, Charlotte, and Miles on the back deck, a large spread of food in front of them. You take the seat next to Lewis and he smirks at you as you sit down.

“What?” You ask, confused by the look he’s giving you.

“You smell familiar.” He teases you.

You blush, feeling immediately embarrassed that he noticed, “I’m sorry, I borrowed your soap but when Talia kicked me out of my room she didn’t-” Your rambled apology is quickly cut off.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it, s’not a problem. I kinda like it.” He offers you a comforting smile, placing his hand on your knee. “Now what do you want to eat? We’ve got plenty of options.”

The atmosphere throughout breakfast finally feels normal, like the vacation that you were all supposed to be able to enjoy. Charlotte makes mimosas and Lewis keeps your plate full, despite your constant pleas for him to stop, you’re pretty sure you’re going to burst at the seams pretty soon.

“So I was thinking maybe we could head back down to the beach today, Volleyball has been calling my name since I saw the net.” Miles pipes up.

“Sounds good to me, get ready to get your ass whooped though.” Lewis says through a mouthful of pancake.

“Last time I played Volleyball I sprained my ankle and got a concussion, but I’m happy to be a cheerleader.” You said, laughing.

All three of them looked at you with very amused expressions.

“Please elaborate on how the hell you managed that?” Lewis urges you, you can tell he’s ready to taunt.

“Well clumsiness and hard balls don’t really go well together.” You shrug taking a sip of your mimosa.

They all burst out laughing, agreeing that maybe you should stick to the sidelines. The lighthearted air is cut short as Steph walks out to the back deck, her eyebrows almost to her hairline and clearly unamused. The reason is made clear quickly as Talia gets to the door, her hands on her hips and a scowl across her face.

“So playboy, you get me a flight out of here or what?” She throws her hands to her sides, staring hard at Lewis.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He wipes his mouth as he stands up from the table.

“You know its pretty classy of you, eye fuck her all day and then go spend the night somewhere else while I’m tossed to the side like dirty laundry.” You hear her start to berate him as they walk into the house.

“Well she’s a joy.” Steph mumbles, taking a seat and loading up a plate.

The conversation turns easy again, Miles filling Steph in on what has now turned into a Volleyball tournament apparently. He’s given you the job of ref, despite you trying to explain to him that you have no clue what the rules of the game even are. Lewis still hasn’t returned to the table as you all finish up and head off to go get ready for a beach day again. You walk into his room to grab your stuff, finding him sprawled back on the bed, an arm over his face.

“You good?” You ask quietly, hoping not to startle him.

He lets his arm flop to the side, glancing over at you, “Soonest flight out of here isn’t until five, so we’re stuck with her for the rest of the day.”

“Why doesn’t she just go do something while she waits?” You point out the obvious option while you rummage for a fresh swimsuit.

“Because she’s not a reasonable person, I think we’ve established that.” He gives you a look that makes you chuckle.

“Fair point,” you nod, “I’m just gonna go change and then we’re gonna head down.”

He nods, getting up off the bed as you head into the bathroom to change. The swim suit you chose for the day is one of your nicer ones. It's a one piece with bright colors and more cutouts than it really needs. The hips come up high and put most of you on display but it makes you feel confident. When you make your way out of the bathroom Lewis has already changed into a new set of swim trunks, you know he’s watching you intently as you step in front of the mirror, trying to adjust the tie behind your neck. He comes up behind you, brushing your hands away and redoing the tie himself. When he’s done he doesn’t step away, instead he steps closer to you. His bare torso pressed to your back, you can feel his bulge on your ass and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself. You watch him carefully in the mirror as he leans down, placing a kiss to your neck making you gasp, then another, and another, each one going higher toward your ear. When he gets to just below your earlobe he nibbles, making your knees go weak. His strong arm comes around your torso, holding you up and keeping you pressed to him.

“I like this one.” He mumbles against your skin, continuing with his assault of wet kisses on your neck, finding every perfect spot as if by magic.

You feel his tongue trace over your skin, his head moving so he’s closer to your throat, placing a kiss to your clavicle before moving back up your neck. His hand that is placed on your stomach moves down slowly, almost seeking permission first, he reaches the crease between your hip and your thigh, that movement alone making you whimper. His other hand turns your face toward his, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth before properly kissing you. You melt into the kiss, his tongue so skillfully dancing with yours. You feel him move the small material of your swimsuit to the side, his thumb brushing over your clit ever so slightly, making you moan softly into his mouth. He takes that as a good sign, moving his thumb up and down in a gentle pattern with the perfect amount of pressure as his middle finger makes his way down to your embarrassingly wet opening. He applies the slightest pressure and you take notice of how thick just the tip of his finger feels. He groans into your mouth, feeling how wet you are, how easy it would be to take you right now, up against this mirror. You moan again as his finger slips past your walls, entering you at the perfect angle. He pulses his finger against the spot in the most intoxicating way, leaving you a panting mess. You can already feel your high creeping up on you as he inserts another finger, stretching you further. He groans again, a deep satisfied sound from his chest, thinking about just how snug you would feel around his cock.

“Good girl, such a good girl f’me,” His breath is just as ragged as yours and you can feel just how hard he is, pressed up against your ass, “you like that don’t you, like how I touch you. You’re gonna come so quick, I can feel it. Let it go for me Y/N, come all over my hand.” His kisses move back down your jaw as he talks you to your high but something about him saying your name slapped you back down to earth.

It hits you like a ton of bricks, your best friend who is nearly ten years your senior, is fingering you in his room while your friends wait for you at the beach. Not only that but the woman he had brought simply to fuck is still in your old room, two doors down the hall. You're still not sure where he was last night or what he was talking about with Charlotte this morning. It hasn’t even been twenty four hours since the explosion where Talia accused him of wanting to fuck you and here you are, proving her right. Immediately your orgasm vanishes and you start to push him away.

“Lewis, no, stop.” You say, pushing him away.

He lets you go easily but is incredibly confused. He shakes his head, his brow furrowed, trying to make sense of where your rejection suddenly came from.

“Y/N, what's wrong, are you okay?” He tried to step toward you, not to resume but in hopes of offering some sort of comfort.

“No,” You back away from him, you can see the pain flash over his face at your movement, “we can’t-, that can’t-, I’m, I’m not her, I-.” You can’t string together a full sentence, feeling like you might cry at a moment's notice.

“I know, Y/N, hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry I thought-” He starts, trying his best to calm you down somehow

“No Lewis, it hasn’t even been twenty four hours, shes still here,” You hiss at him, finally finding your words, “my god, she was right. Fuck. Is that why I’m here? Just so you can get your dick wet?”

“God no Y/N, fuck, yes I know, shitty timing on my part. But-” He tries to speak again but you cut him off once more.

“Yeah no shit, ‘shitty timing’.” You mock his accent, “I am not a fucking rebound or some play thing for you, especially after what you said last night. That, whatever that was, it can’t happen.” You shake your head.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what it was, I promise, I thought that-” Once again you cut him off.

“Yeah, I can tell what you fucking thought Lewis.” You keep your voice down but it still comes out harsh.

“Jesus Christ, would you please let me speak?” He sounds desperate, it’s written all over his face.

“I can’t do this Lewis, I have to go.” You put your hands up, stopping any further conversation from him before turning and walking out of the room.

“Y/N.” You hear him call your name behind you.

“Y/N.” It comes again, this time louder, but you can tell he’s not getting any closer. He’s not following you, and you’re thankful.

You feel so ashamed and so angry. You hate him right now, you hate that he chose that moment, this situation. You hate her for being right, he was trying to sleep with you. But you hate yourself too, you hate that you melted into him so easily, you hate that you didn’t stop him sooner. More importantly though, you hate that you loved it, you hate that you wish you didn’t stop him at all, you hate that you now want more, that you want to know exactly what he feels like, what he tastes like, everything about him. He made you  putty in his hands with just his lips alone, you can only imagine what else he is capable of. You hate that you know exactly what he offers, that he's willing to offer it, and you can’t accept it. You felt exactly what he possesses, pressed against your ass and now you will never be able to get the thought of it out of your head. You hate this.

But most important of all, you hate that you may have just lost Lewis.