#my hand hurts and I’m going to sleep now

[chelseeebe]

you win, i lose

we’re back with these two pathetic little weirdos, who cheered!! another follow up to gimme a hand, bump n’ grind and truth or dare or can be read as a standalone! i think i’m gonna give these two a break for now and work on some other things including some lovely requests i have<3

18+. mdni! smut with a little bit of plot this time! female!reader x eddie munson. no use of y/n. modern au i guess but it is so not mentioned or relevant

eddie sighs, a long, guttural sigh that on reflection, made him sound like a sad little dog.

“what the hell was that for?” barely looking up from your phone to talk to him.

he debates even saying it, terrified that you’d have his balls chopped off for uttering the words.

“don’t you think we’re boring now?” voice wavering as the words come out.

after six months of officially dating, your relationship had started to slow a little. no more making him cum in his pants or sneaky blowjobs in the bathroom at parties. it was sex or it was sleep.

the transition from best friends who shouldn’t be doing this to same old couple had been jarring, especially over the past week when eddie’s felt his dick was on overdrive.

“boring? huh? i don’t think we’re boring? we literally went to a gig tonight,” baffled by his insulting suggestion.

“not like that,” leering up at you from his side of the bed, “i mean.. when we have sex, it’s kinda boring,” shrugging, as if to lessen the blow of what he’d said.

your face crumples, both offence and perhaps a little hurt flash through your features. “wow, thanks eds. no, i actually didn’t think that at all.”

it’s in that moment that he realises, he’s fucked up. majorly.

“w- i’m- shit, no,” shoulders slumping, “you’re taking it the wrong way,” as if there were any other way for you to take it.

“i don’t think so, you couldn’t have been clearer actually,” sending daggers through his skull, “alright,” you place your hands on your hips, “you don’t get to touch me for a week, no kissing, no cuddling.. definitely no sex,” pouting slightly, “since that’s how you wanna be.”

“what?” eddie sits up, at full attention now, “you know i didn’t mean it like that,” fumbling to turn this around.

“i don’t care, you said it,” standing strong, “now you have to live with the consequences.”

his head rolls back against the headboard, immediate regret for anything he had just said.

god only knows if he’d live to survive the week.

-

that night in bed, eddie turns, huffing his frustrations into the pillow. it hadn’t even been twenty four hours yet and he already felt like he was going crazy.

his hand sprawls out over the mattress, edging to touch you, though he stops just before.

“you wanna give up already?” you taunt, staring though the darkness to throw another jab at him.

“no, i don’t. i just wanna cuddle my girlfriend in bed, is that too much to ask?”

“i told you the rules, no.”

“fuuck,” grumbling to himself, “this is stupid,” pouting to himself, in his self-inflicted drought.

“maybe don’t say stupid shit and this won’t have to happen again,” smug and self-righteous as you turn away, leaving him to yearn for just a brush of skin.

-

the party had been a bad idea from the start. eddie had never been so pent up in his life and it had only been three, long, miserable days.

you’d made sure to wear that tiny black dress, the one he really liked. struggling to even keep his eyes on the road on the drive over.

a few beers and a no-contact order could only mean one thing and he was dreading it.

you were adamant on making eyes at him across the kitchen counter all night, driving him literally insane. any other time, you’d have snuck off to the bathroom or gone home early but he knows there is a slim chance of that happening tonight.

you sidle up to him, mischievous glint in your eye as you slide something into his pocket before slinking off again, faster than he can compute.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the lacy fabric just enough to realise what it was. quickly spinning on his heel so as to not let anyone else see.

your fucking panties. wrapped around his fingers for everyone to see.

there’s no hesitation about it, excusing himself to the bathroom before anyone could ask what he was doing.

holy shit. you’re fucking crazy. on another playing field completely. eddie almost wishes that he’d asked for your panties earlier, far before you’d decided to play these brutal games with him.

he slides them from his pocket, not before making sure the door was locked for the second time, holding them to his nose, like the freak he truly was.

oh god.

he misses you so bad. he’d take the most boring, uneventful missionary for the rest of his life if it meant you’d never deprive him of this ever again.

it takes a moment for him to regain enough consciousness to rejoin the party, keeping his fingers wrapped tight around the lacy material as argyle prattles on about some crazy new strain he’d discovered.

your eyes sparkle, waiting for him to meet your gaze. but he’s not giving you that. not allowing you the satisfaction of ruining him so badly.

-

the second the van is far enough away from the house, eddie wails loudly in despair.

“that wasn’t fair!” he whines, throwing his head back against the seat of his van, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

“it’s totally fair,” you refute, smiling away to yourself.

“no it’s not,” huffing like a petulant child, “i can’t give you my boxers to sniff.. it’s not equal.”

“i’m sorry- you sniffed them?” flabbergasted, “you’re a pervert,” collapsing into a fit of giggles.

“yeah i fucking did,” proud of his perversions, he was the most sexually frustrated he had ever been, sniffing your panties was nothing compared to what he felt like doing.

“weirdo.”

eddie wants so badly to reach over, slide his hand underneath your dress and really take advantage of the no-panties situation. he was getting hard just thinking about it.

it’s crazy how much you insulting him was actually turning him on more.

“please just let me touch you,” he pleads, “i’m sorry for what i said, i need you,” there had been a time where eddie had to make do with getting to feel your touch every couple months, he’s not sure how he ever survived.

three days and he felt like he was about to implode.

not only had he dreamed of your pussy, it had been haunting him in his mundane life too.

stuck under some dusty old car at work, only thinking about how good you felt, ignoring any of the actually important things he had to do.

“nuh-uh, you made your bed, now lie in it,” propping your feet up on the dash, causing your skirt to slide even higher.

eddie couldn’t believe you’d be so evil and cruel, even in his darkest hour you were depriving him of you.

-

at some point in the night, eddie’s brain must have decided that enough was enough. his half-asleep, dream filled mind doesn’t really comprehend what he’s doing, hand snaking around your waist, using your body as leverage to pull himself closer, pressed against your ass.

“eddie.. eddie,” you hush, shaking his arm. “you’re cheating,” voice still hoarse and sleepy.

“i give up,” he grumbles, slowly grinding his hips against your ass, “you win, i lose,” admitting defeat at long last. if only he had sucked up his pride enough to do this four days ago.

“four days.. four fucking days,” you scold, though make no effort to move away from him, “you can’t even last a full week, you loser,” chastising him was music to his ears.

“mhm,” he grumbles into the back of your neck, “keep being mean to me, i love it,” spare hand creeping down to shift your shorts to the side.

you laugh into the pillow, moving your hips backwards against his crotch, “you’re so pathetic,” you goad, only firing him up more.

“oh god,” he groans, still rutting against the soft fabric, “i’m gonna cum right now,” whining into your ear.

“if you cum without fucking touching me, i’m gonna be so pissed off,” your grip tightening on his forearm, almost pinching him.

he huffs into your hair, slowing his rhythm to a complete stop, hastily tugging on your pajama shorts, eager to get them off and his dick wet.

this can’t have been any better on you, really, not only were you punishing him, but yourself too.

your shorts rest somewhere around your ankles as eddie struggles to get his own boxers down, grunting in sheer desperation as his cock aches for you.

his hand slides underneath your tee, pulling it up with his arm, gripping onto your boob for leverage. eddie’s never been one to take control but if he hadn’t, he’s not sure you’d have ever touched him again.

wasting no time in hoisting your leg higher, his already leaking tip nudging your sopping entrance. confirmation that you’d been just as eager for it as he was.

“‘m so hard for you,” pushing himself between your folds, shuddering at the overwhelming feelings jolting through his limbs.

“shit,” you breathe, placing your palm above his as it gropes your fleshy skin.

“need you-oh god.. so bad,” senselessly thrusting his hips, slamming against your ass while the bed begins to rock, thanking his lucky stars that wayne was still at work.

“yeah? tell me, tell me how bad you need it,” gasping for air, your soft, angelic pants fill his tiny bedroom.

eddie groans, aching to please you but also unable to fathom the correct words needed to truly convey his feelings.

“y-you’re all i think about,” tightening his grip on your skin, “at work..” panting his words out between rhythmless thrusts, “at home- fuck oh fuck,” squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to make this last at least a few minutes longer.

nothing had ever felt so euphoric, frying his nerve endings, sending his brain into a hazy state that he just may never recover from.

“fuck,” you grit, clawing at his hand, “missed you so bad,” rolling your head back to rest on his shoulder, showing no mercy to his neighbours with your echoing moans. guaranteed to receive disgusting looks from david across the way for the rest of his life.

at this point, eddie becomes an incoherent babbling mess, eyes pressed shut as his stomach flips and turns in all directions. is now the time to start thinking about having kids?

“let me.. let me cum in you,” driven wild by the thought of filling you up over and over. a rare treat that really only lead to a week of stress for you both, but so incredibly worthwhile.

chanting his name right into his ear, other hand stuck between your thighs, circling your clit with an animalistic ferocity. you’d wanted this just as bad as he did, only you were clearly more strong-willed than he’d ever be.

not a second of this had been boring or anything he ever wanted to miss again. swearing to himself that he’d never be so to open his mouth foolish again.

“y-yeah,” nodding encouragingly, “please,” nearing your own, overdue orgasm.

eddie had been clued on to all the little signs for months now, tightening around him while your moans turned more into whimpers, jaw slack and your eyes rolled back.

“shitshitshit,” he rushes, certain he’d left indentations in your skin, “gonna cum- gonna cum in you,” making sure that you know what you’d signed up for, not that he had much choice.

his orgasm rocks his body, juddering as he paints your walls, howling as the overwhelming feeling washes over again and again. four days of built up energy all coming out in one.

you shriek, “oh god,” your body turning to putty between his arms, trembling as you cum, “mine.. all mine,” cradling his arm in yours, placing half-assed kisses to his neck.

he was, unashamedly so. no one had nor could ever come close to the way you make him feel. dragging him to the lowest levels of his pride just to boost him right back up when you said shit like that.

eddie doesn’t let go, scared that you’ll come out of your haze and get mad about his failed temporary abstinence.

you shuffle round under his grip anyway, face burning and your hair resembling a birds nest, though completely content as his release drips down your leg.

your palm slaps his cheek playfully, “don’t you ever call me boring again,” squishing his flaming hot skin between your fingers, “because you’ll never touch me again,” unsure of whether you were joking or not.

“yes ma’am,” running his fingers down your side, until they reach the curve of your ass, “that’s a promise.”

[brailsthesmolgurl]

LOSING YOU HURTS

Preview: What have the boys done that got you to go MIA? What lengths would they go to get you back?

Warnings: ANGST, teeth-rotting fluff at ending.

P.S: This is a request from one of you lovely readers. I hope what I had written shall suffice your love for angst and fluff. Rafayel's take is always and always will be and shall be the dramatic route imo, Zayne's just radiating care-bear energy in forever, Xavier? I decided to do him a little dirty and make him a salty boi :3

RAFAYEL - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜

The young artist came home to the smell of alcohol reeked across his living room. The mellow balsamic, saccharine scent created a trail for Rafayel to tail towards his room. The wide span of hallways suddenly seemed so narrow due to the lack of lighting. However, the moonlight provided just enough of a shine to prevent Rafayel from kissing the walls as he led himself towards his bedroom. The scent became more pungent as he got closer to the door and he was wondering if someone had managed to break into his mansion just for a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot. Opening the door with a slight creak, he popped his head into the ajar door to take a peek of the thief. Only to find you, sprawled out on his bed. He could not see your face as your legs faced him but he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest. You are asleep.

Relieved, he walked over to your sleeping figure, studying the situation. A bottle of Merlot emptied out on the nightstand while another half bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon stood still on the floor, next to a wine glass. Someone is clearly in the mood to drink for the night and does not even bother to wait for him. But he did wondered why would you down one and a half bottle of red wine when you have a barely existent alcohol tolerance. Rafayel took a seat next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear and he smiled to himself.

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto your cheek, feeling the warmth of your face from your drunkenness. “Mmm…” You hummed out at the slight pressure on your cheek. “Is that you Rafayel?” Your hushed whispers made him pressed another kiss to your cheek again, and another to your jawline.

“Yes, it’s me my love.” Rafayel pressed yet another kiss to your lips, slightly excited at you waking up. Seeing your eyelids opening to reveal your gaze, he leaned back, holding himself up by his palm, taking in your sleepy state. “You want to tell me why you chose to drink all of these yourself instead of waiting for me to come home and toast with you?”

His question only dissolved from words into gibberish as you were too drunk to handle such a heavy topic for the night. “I’m tired.” With a couple more slow blinks, the room disappeared and you travelled back to your dreamland.

The next day came about with you waking up to an empty bed. You slowly sat up, eyes shutting closed when your head cracked a whir and the world started to spin out of control. “Good morning.” A familiar voice tuned in and you opened your eyes just enough to catch sight of your boyfriend walking in casually, a silver tray well balanced on one of his palms. “My beauty is awake.” Smell of pancakes and something spicy filled the air and your tastebuds started salivating. Nothing like a good hungover meal to get things kickstarted for the day. For the talk the both of you are going to have. “I made some breakfast for you. Based on the amount you had drank, you are to be called a drunkard from now on.” He leaned down close enough, nose tip caressed against your cheek. “You’re most welcomed for my care.”

“We have to talk.” You had sat yourself up, hand rubbing your forehead a couple of times when you tried to calm your throbbing pain in your skull and the itch in the back of your throat, begging you to stop what you are about to say. “I want to break up.”

“Awe, is my beauty still—” Rafayel reached his hand out to touch your cheek, a cheesy smile still hung on his handsome features. He had just woken up, shirt messily buttoned, hair tousled and spiking in different directions and face still slightly oily from the sleep he had enjoyed next to you in bed. Nevertheless, his beauty remains inexorable.

You turned your head to the side, leaving his hand hanging mid air with the phantom touch of your warm cheek, and his smile faded when he denoted that you were being serious. “I want to break up.” Your lack of tone and facial expressions led Rafayel to return to his original posture.

“Why?” Rafayels’ eyes narrowed and he knitted his eyebrows together. He was frustrated. Not telling him the reason and just wanting to break up gave the young man a good enough idea that he is no longer wanted in your space. He could have begged, asked, nagged you to stay but he chooses to respect your boundary. “Why would you want to break up suddenly?”

"Have you not seen the news Rafayel?" You grabbed your phone off of the nightststand and unlocked it, revealing a news titled 'NEW MUSE OR NEW COHORT? RAFAYEL FOUND SHARING LIPS WITH THE MYSTERY WOMAN'.

He looked genuinely shocked, grabbing your phone to continue scanning through the article. Hazy from your hangover, you cannot tell if he was being upset or he was actually shocked that he got caught. "Love, that is a mistake. I did not know she—"

"I'm done." You interrupted, snatching your phone out of his palms and pushing yourself off of the bed. Rafayel mimicked you, getting up off of the bed and holding onto you to prevent you from falling and to stop you from leaving. "I should have known earlier given how you had not been coming home recently. All of the promises that you made, it's all just a lie."

"No, it's not a lie y/n. I did not manage to come home because I was busy curating my artworks for the upcoming exhibition. The kiss with Aiki, it was nothing. We were both drunk and—" He started rambling, eyes darting everywhere except meeting yours and face turning red. The lack of detail present within his explanation only pushed your buttons further.

"It's the fact you kissed her and you did not tell me anything the next day, or the day after, or today! That's what made me disappointed in you Rafayel!" You raised your voice, unable to calm yourself anymore. You recalled the night you caught on to the news. Crying became your last resort and you figured by chugging down alcohol you could pity yourself less, seeing the picture of the mystery woman he calls 'Aiki' being so much more alluring than you.

Possessing long blond hair with big wavy curls, tall stature with right amount of curves on her figure. Any man would dream of a model-like woman like her laying in their bed. Not to mention, she possesses the same interest for art, seemingly the only daughter to a family tree of artists. There is no doubt on why she would be hired by Rafayel and why they would end up having an affair.

You squared up against him, pushing him by his shoulders and he stumbled backwards. "I hate you." Your last sentence jabbed him more than anything, maybe it was the tears that ran down your face like streams, maybe the way you bit your lip after you had finished your sentence realising that you had said the ultimatum, or maybe it was your tone of defeat that made him feel utterly useless.

"I'm sorry y/n." Rafayel held onto your wrist, with just enough amount to beg you to stay and not to force you. "It was a mistake of mine, I should have told you about it. I was scared you were going to leave me."

"But apparently not saying it does not change the ending either." You removed your wrist out of his grip and you walked past him and out of the premises of his abode. Your tears streaked your cheeks immediately when the heavy doors closed behind you. Your feet felt heavy with every step you take, secretly hoping for Rafayel to be dashing out of his house, shouting and begging relentlessly for you to not leave him. Despite with that expectation, it remained eidetic to your imagination and you dragged yourself as far as you could. Away from his mansion, away from his island, but primely, away from Rafayel.

Days followed by weeks and then months. That was how long you had disassociated yourself with the purple haired lad. The memories of him are dissolving just like the news of his has dissipated. The last you had seen his name on the news headline was when he chose to cancel his exhibition. The same exhibition that he spent a lot of time trying to curate his artworks and the same exhibition that got him to commit a mistake with Aiki that costed him his relationship. Although the reason behind his cancellation was unknown to the paparazzi, you knew full well that his 'I am moody hence I do not feel like going through with this exhibition' kinda excuse is pure bullshit. But of course, you did not want to jump to conclusions. More like, you are in no position to possess such an assumptive nature towards his acts anymore.

Here you currently sat, on your kitchen table, with a cup of tea in hand and eyes fixated on the hologram showcased in your living room. The holographic news reporter casually stood at the corner of your living room, reading from his cue cards and occasionally pointing towards the graphics that appeared on his left on demand, providing you details on what is going on in the outside world. You were thinking of going out for a shopping spree today as you had been holed up in your home for the longest time ever. Mostly due to paperwork, partially may contribute to the post breakup blues.

The doorbell rang and you swiftly got up, tearing your eyes off of the man in a suit in your living room and you walked yourself towards the door. You clicked the lock open and pulled your door towards you to open it. Rafayel towered in front of you, still looking as dashing as how you always expected of him. His left eyebrow raised, presumably surprised at you opening the door for him. The tension amongst the both of you started arising, one mostly out of anxiety while the other mostly out of frustration.

"What do you want?" You quipped, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed the young man in front of you. Rafayel clad a suit that puts the reporter's neatly pressed outfit to shame, with the usual combo of black and white, added on with a red tie, there is really not a lot of work required for him to look good. Yet, you could not bring yourself to admire his outfit now.

"I came to apologise." His tone was lighthearted, pressed to crack a joke amidst this tension. You however, caught a whiff of a scent that you do not often smell on him. It smells tangy, fruity even. "I know you do not want me here, but I will not stop like how I had not stopped contacting you for the past months. It took Thomas three months to locate where you are staying and I just had to risk coming here." He pressed one of his palms to his forehead and closed his eyes, body swaying slightly as if there was a gust of wind that blew him. "Can I at least come in? My head is buzzing."

You stood aside to give way to him. His lanky stature nearly manage to fit through your standard door frame and you manage to sneak a whiff off of his cologne of the night. He reeked of alcohol. "Are you drunk Rafayel?"

The man stumbled forward and you lurched towards him, arms secured around his waist to hold him up, not wanting him to kiss the floor just yet and you slowly guided him towards the sofa. Moans and groans and hushed mutters kept tumbling out of his mouth, but you barely focused in on his monologues. The way his rubicund cheeks presented itself, accompanied with his groans; he must not be in a good mood. Although the both of your paths had came to an end, you could not just let him falter to the ground. "Here, lay down." You low-key flopped him onto the couch and hurried off into the kitchen to fetch some water.

It has been a while of silence, with the window opened for maximum ventilation and the curtains that pranced along with the rhythm of the winds. You twisted the handkerchief in your hand, squeezing the water out of the cloth and laying it onto Rafayel's head, repeating the same motion for the next few handkerchiefs that you would use to cover his neck and his chest. He was rather persistent in not wanting you to undress him as the moment is not right and he does not want to be taken advantage of. But again, it seems like you are the one that was getting taken advantage by your ex-boyfriend even after the breakup.

You managed to make him comply by comforting him and telling him that you only want to cool down his body temperature. The permission to remove his blazer was granted with a nod and you unbuttoned three buttons on his button-up shirt, unfoldingthe cotton piece and slowly placing it onto his smooth yet hard chest. Rafayel hissed in response, hands enveloping yours immediately and your cheeks burnt at the touch. "I'm sorry y/n." You looked up to see the man is already looking at you, lids heavy and lips slightly puckered, guilt written all over his features. "I didn't mean to cheat on you at all."

"You should rest." Your dismissive attitude got Rafayel to wrap his arms around your waist in one-go and he pulled you onto him, so you are laying right on top of him. You were frantic, wanting to get out of his arms as soon as possible but his hold was solid. "Rafayel, please. We had gotten over this." "I had never loved anyone like you y/n." His soft voice a total opposite of his iron grip. "Hell, when I kissed her that time when I was drunk, all I could think about was you. I'm sorry I did not tell you about my mistake earlier. I am sorry I let you walked out. I should have tried harder, I should not have gotten drunk that night..." The warm light that hit his face outlined the tears that brimmed around his eyes. He trailed off, words swallowed by the silence. "I'm very sorry my love."

You could not deny it. Seeing him being drunk, standing at the front of your unit that he had searched for relentlessly ever since the parting, apologising being the only thing he could manage to put into a conversation for tonight and the amount of guilt that surrounds him as thick as the smell of alcohol on his body. You could not deny that he melted your heart. "Rafayel, it's okay." You succumbed to your own regret too, revealing the sensations you had felt for the past few months. "I should not have acted so recklessly. I should have listened to you and not let my insecurity consume me. I am sorry too."

"Don't be sorry my love." His finger snaked over to the bottom of your chin and he lifted it up. Your lips only a few inches away from him. "I will always love you, and if you ever plan to leave me again, I will chase you to the ends of the earth even if I have to." Watching him closely, you realised the redness on his cheeks are gone, and the glint of teasing in his nebula-like orbs is back.

Scrunching your face in observation, you asked. "Are you faking yourself to be drunk?" He whined like a toddler and 'fainted' back into his laying position, making you raise your eyebrows in return at his usual mockeries. "Do you even mean anything you said earlier?"

He snapped his head back to you, eyes widened and he pushed himself up with one arm, jaw slackening. "The audacity to assume that I came here just for a show." He pressed a hand to his chest and looked down, the redness creeping onto his ears. "Everything I had said is sincere, I wanted to apologise and wanted to show you just how much you actually matter to me. Because, y/n, losing you really pains me. It affects me greater than what you may think." You did not reply to his laments, but instead just watched this man in front of you conveyed a soliloquy that is so wrapped in sincerity and love for you that it really made you reconsider the word 'break up'.

A snap of a finger made you jolted awake and you realised how stupid you could have looked, with a wide grin stapled onto your face as you admired your suitor in front of you. Rafayel however, has a pout on his lips and he crossed his arms, unsatisfied with the lack of succor he received from his all-time lover. "You are lucky I love you, or else I am suing you for making me look like a fool when I am the least bit interested in theatrical acts." Then, the both of you burst out into laughters, filling the void of the dead silence.

ZAYNE - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝

You flicked your wrist to stare at your new watch that Zayne had gotten for you. It is almost lunch time but you still did not managed to catch sight of Zayne anywhere. You scanned the crowd, watching staffs and patients zooming across the lobbies in various speeds. Weekdays are not an excuse for this famous hospital to have barren hallways as you have figured.

Heavy footfalls against the marbled flooring made you turned your head and you noticed Zayne standing near one of the pharmacy counters, with a girl right next to him. You knew all of the people your boyfriend is associated with but the absence of a memory for the girl's face suggested that she may be new around here. Your eyes started to study this stranger occupying herself right next to your boyfriend.

She has short, neat brunette hair that sits right below her ear lobes. Certainly well-dressed within the premises of the building; with a lilac blouse on and well-fitted jeans, with a pair of low pumps. Her clipboard in her arm and the blue tag pinned against her lovely blouse gave away her position as an intern. Then, this would explain why she would be around Zayne.

But, it does not explain the scenario when she said something with a grin and your normally emotionless boyfriend smiles back, all the while adjusting his necktie. Arbitrarily, you were not really affected by his reactions. He is human afterall. Although humourless most of the time, but it still does not deny him the opportunity to take in a good joke and react naturally to it. The young man nodded his head and you watched the intern walked off before you looked back to Zayne, noticing he already has his eyes on you and is already strutting over to you.

"Hey Zayne." You greeted him warmly, a smile on your face but not lurching forward to hug him as the both of you had agreed to not display any PDAs when he is still within his work premises. "Who's that just now?"

"An intern I was assigned with two months ago." He spoke, eyeing the watch on your wrist. "I see you are making good use of the Rolex. It's about time an adult like you keep track of your own time." You shot him a look of discontentment at his usage of puns but still laughed either ways. "I've gotten us a table at a nearby restaurant, let's get going."

"How's the steak?" Zayne asked, his hazel orbs glided from your face to your plate and back to your face again, expecting an answer.

The restaurant looked amazing, elegantly decorated in shades of white and gold, mirroring the decors and theme from those mythical stories that hailed from the ancient Greek and Roman mythologies. Gargoyles made of porcelain fitted within the alcoves of the vined halls, recessed within the stilts that holds up the ceiling.

"It is good, as per usual from your choice." You catch his eyes briefly and diverted your gaze back onto the meal in front of you. "What is the name of the intern?"

Zayne paused, taking a moment to sip onto the orange juice he had ordered and dabbing the napkin over his lips. "Azalea."

"It's funny how she was never mentioned to me before." It is your turn to lay down your cutlery this time, repeating the steps as what Zayne had done but the only difference is that you sipped onto lemon tea rather than orange juice. "Despite it has been two months."

The man that sat in front of you eased back into his chair, sighing. "I just figured she is an intern and that what goes on between me and her on a daily basis are not worth to be mentioned about. It seemed unnecessary." Your question was not meant to be an argument starter but with the way how Zayne sounded so dismissive about this intern of his, you could not help but to grow suspicious of things between them. When you are about to say something else, a subtle vibration was heard and you caught sight of Zayne's phone screen lighting up. "I have to take this." He got up and left the table to take the phone call outside, leaving you within your own realm of questions.

The phone call took a while. Much to your surprise, the name that flashed across his screen was none other than Azalea. Furthermore, the other surprise factor is that the phone call is taking such a while that you are beginning to imagine fishes appearing in your cauliflower soup. When Zayne came back to the table, he looked apologetic somehow, picking up his coat in a swift motion. "I have to return to the hospital now. I have an immediate surgery scheduled at 3pm later."

Walking beside him, you could not bring yourself to ask who was it on the phone as the name showcased on the screen was bright as day and it would not stop flashing up in your mind. You intertwined your own fingers, mentally encouraging yourself to not worry much about the issue as Zayne had always been loyal to you. However, this is where the devil starts pulling its strings when you started wondering was it because of the fact he had always been so loyal that he got bored? Maybe Azalea turned up to be a whole new, fresh, brilliant individual that may have managed to tempt Zayne. Your confidence in the relationship is immediately questioned at that moment.

"I'm sorry I can't fetch you back. Once you're home, drop me a text." Zayne rubbed his palm on the small of your back but his warmth seemingly non-existent. "I will see you soon."

After the last time the both of you had lunch, Zayne started getting really busy while you, you just got more and more isolated. No, things did not exactly ended between the both of you but at this rate, prepping yourself for the end of days may not be exaggerative at all. The both of you still do have phone calls everyday, but it was textbook-like. The usual greetings and casual singular-sentenced conversations before either one has to run off to work. Maybe sometimes, you might get the luck of hearing Azalea in the background, chattering and laughing off with that nurse that manages Zayne's schedule for the day.

Slowly but surely, the phone calls slowly turned into texts and eventually, your texts became haphazard, even going as far as you having to weigh your mood to determine your willingness to reply. You just could not bring yourself to ask him the question marks in your head, and yet, breaking up is not an option as this may just be a stupid thing to fight and end things up for. So, you struggled alone allowing yourself to be raptured within the palms of your own worries for the future of your relationship. It is also saddening to see that your thoughts now are only full of Azalea; with the memories of you and Zayne but your face being replaced by that intern's features.

A knock on the door made you jolted and you spilled some water onto your shirt. "Tsk, come on. Really?" Muttering to yourself, you got off of the sofa and made your way towards the doorway. Hands hurriedly dusting off the stain the best you could before you came face to face with the person standing at your door. "Hi, how can I—Zayne?"

“I figured you would be at home.” Zayne welcomed himself into your house and you willingly step aside, palms and forehead dripping with cold sweat. His presence has not been exactly expected, but maybe because it was unexpected, you find yourself flabbergasted at his sudden appearance. “You had been very…” He shrugged off his coat, his movements languid but slow, his words churning at the tip of his tongue as Zayne does not want to sound rude. “Distant lately. I came over to check up on you.”

“I was just busy.” You mumbled, toes wriggled against your wooden flooring to trick yourself int thinking time might speed up with this method. It has been a fair amount of time since the two of you had last met up. It has been a fortnight exactly. You missed him dearly but with your own Azalea dilemma, you could not make the judgement for him. Pessimistic one might say and sadly, you admit that you are a prime example for the term.

“Busy catching up on those reality shows of yours I see. That is one way to define busy.” Zayne stepped up to you, his height providing him an advantage to corner you towards your wall. “What’s the matter? You do not look so well. Do you need me to check—”

The extension of his hand was stopped with your grip before he could feel your forehead's temperature. Your cementing grip causing the doctor to raise one of his thin eyebrows. “I don’t need you here.”

“Why?” Subtle but pushy. His deepened voice hinted curiosity. Zayne has never been the one to bear the trait of being assumptive but with how things had developed between the two of you, Zayne himself started realising the amount of doubts that has been growing on him. He is not fond of his particular messy thoughts and he was ought to get an answer out of you tonight.

You released your grip on his wrist and the doctor did not move back, but stayed stagnant in his spot, still staring down at you, hoping that you would at least look up to meet his concerned gaze. He only got slightly disappointed when you lowered your head even further. “You had been cheating on me with Azalea haven’t you?”

Zayne’s eyebrows tilted upwards again, watching your figure growing smaller and smaller in front of him. You are literally shaking, melting, gnawing at yourself for wanting to confront him when your good conscience is asking every bit of you to not mess up what is left of the relationship. Still, a relationship without clarification via communication is as good as not being in a relationship. “Why would you think so?”

You can hear, no. You can feel your mind pushing your heart out of the way like how rugby players be doing on the field, roughhousing the shit out of every opponent they see. “We barely talked, we barely made plans, you are always at the hospital and I had to result to getting updates from your nurse about your schedule and all I see is that intern’s name on most of it. And usually, you would not even have interns on your surgery schedules. What makes her so special?” You wanted to stop yourself but your mouth was no longer yours.

“Not to mention, the way you smiled at her that day when I came by to visit you. It took me a year to get you to at least crack a smile at my stupid jokes but it only takes her two months. Your one-worded responses about her made it seemed like you are really hiding something from me. But, with how things are recently, I am starting to question the basis of our love for one another.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes after your yapping came to an end. “When I bought that watch for you to get a sense of time, I do not mean you should be wasting your time on having to crack your head and heart at such wringing issues like this y/n.” His sudden defensiveness made you snapped your head up towards him. How dare he! “I am a man of integrity y/n and I am sorry.” Your anger immediately dissolved, watching Zayne getting down onto one of his knees so that you do not have to crane your neck the whole time while having this conversation. He held your hand slowly, the soft and calloused palms of his matching the heat of yours and he pulled you to sit onto his thigh. “Allow me to explain.”

Apparently, the reason why they are both stuck to the hip is because Zayne was pressured by the medical board to provide her an ‘all-access pass’ to his treatments, surgeries and also anything related to his responsibilities. Zayne is not an advocate for someone who rises through the ranks with nepotism but he was also surprised that she is not just a nepo-baby, but she actually has the brains to be a capable doctor in the future. Hence, Zayne was more willing to overlook his moral judgement for a bit and to actually tutor her according to his own will to create a successful doctor for the near future. When he spoke of the incident whereas he was caught smiling at her, his response is straight. “She is a lesbian and she has a girlfriend.”

Slouched on the couch, you leaned in, nestling your face into his collarbone and you felt the pads of his fingers pressed against your chin and he guided you to look at him. The dashing young man that you are more than glad to acknowledge him as your boyfriend looked extremely seductive under the low light conditions. Zayne’s lips tugged up into a subtle smirk and you noticed the way his eyes flicked in between your eyes and your lips. Perhaps, he owns the talent of being a psychic. “Y/n. From now on, I do not wish for you to worry yourself with such ridiculous thoughts anymore. It concerns me that you are holed up only to yourself when my heart is opened for you and only you my darling. I need you to know that you can always rely on me and I will always be here for you.” The man then leaned down to press a deep kiss onto your soft lips.

XAVIER - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

The last thing you expected was to be attending the reunion party held by Captain Jenna on your long-awaited off day. Several other divisions are invited for this reunion as one of the main purpose for this party is to encourage everyone to let off some steam as well. You tugged lightly at the collar of your turtleneck, feeling like the outfit is not only choking you but your lack of motivation to conduct social interaction is having a grip at your trachea too. "It's nice to see you here." A familiar voice rung past your hearing and you watched your boyfriend approached you.

He is rocking his usual hunter outfit but this time it is in white-grey combination rather than the usual white-navy or full-white sets. He took his stand beside you and covered his mouth immediately, a yawn setting into his palms. Even your boyfriend is rhyming to the same mindset of yours of wanting to just have the day to himself or to spend it only with you. "I suppose you did not want to be here either?" You chirped, taking a deep breath and stepping into the hall, with Xavier tailing your shadow.

"Nothing ever beats a good nap. But, I guess I have no choice when Captain Jenna told me that you are obligated to join." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. Situating himself right next to you. "And I suppose it would not be a bad idea to accompany you in case you get lonely."

The normally neat, simplistic-looking hall is now decorated with colourful streamers and balloons. Standing cocktail tables are aligned near a temporary bar stand that was themed like a Hawaii beach-side bar while fancier banquet tables were placed at the end of the hall. But you gave the party the benefit of the doubt when you noticed a DJ is placed at the very end of the hall, spinning records on their devices. This party is a fun mess.

"I guess this is Captain's idea of a fun party huh?" Xavier asked, question indirectly directed towards you, but mostly towards himself. Cannot blame either one of you as none of you are known to be the best party goers amongst the division. If you both were to be placed into a category for the type of party-goers, the two of you would definitely fit right into the 'non-existent' type.

"Either ways Xavier, I know at least I got you." You turned to him and flashed him a smile and the blond man did the same, patting you on the head as well for his usual comforting gesture. "I think I will go ahead and look for Tara first. I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay. If you get overwhelmed, you can always find me and we can always make an excuse to ride home alright?" His azure orbs were tinted with a shade of baby blue under the garish fluorescent lights. Your nod rewarded you another pat on your head and you dived into the crowds of people, in search for your best friend Tara.

Honestly, at this moment, you wished you had not been looking for Tara as now you are stuck in this awkward social circle of hers. Conversations consisting mainly of newest fashion trends and celebrity gossips are such new grounds to you, more like never-will-touch grounds of conversation. "Hey, you alright?" Tara's pat on your shoulder snapped you out of your boredom and you blinked a couple of times.

"Y...yeah I am fine." Jeez. You should have asked for an opportunity to leave when you got to but your people pleaser attitude does not really grant you the will to just spit out an excuse and peace out. "I am just not the best at these kind of conversations." At least some parts of the truth managed to be rolled out.

"Girls! Girls! The dance is starting." One of the girls came joining the small circle, her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Let's hit the dance floor!" Then you watched as the freckled girl dragged Tara and another girl --whose name you do not recall-- through the crowd and towards the empty space in the middle of it all. The music suddenly had a drastic warped tune to it and it went from sentimental, lovey-dovey songs straight into songs one would blast in the gym or a nightclub.

You looked around and figured maybe this is the best time for you to plan your escape so you started to squeeze through bodies to get to the exit. As you passed by the dancefloor, a familiar figure reeled your attention and you focused in on the figure only to find Xavier standing in front of a girl, talking in the middle of the dancefloor. With the amount of people occupying the dancefloor, there is no doubt some form of physical contact would occur.

Speaking of which, you watched as a man bumped into Xavier and then he hit against the girl, arms reaching around her shoulder to steady himself. The fluorescent lights suddenly went off and laser-like pointers and stage lights becoming the main source of lighting. It is dimmer for sure, but not dim enough for you to figure out that Xavier and the girl are a little too close in each other's personal bubble.

"Look at that couple there." You overheard someone talking behind your back. "I heard they used to date back in the day but then things did not end well."

"Why? What happened?" Another voice chimed in right when the sentence finished.

"The girl got pregnant or so I heard." Your eyes widened in horror when you heard the story. Why have you not heard of the existence of Xavier's ex-girlfriend? He sure is and always have been a man of mystery but you did not expect that he would refrain to tell you such an important information. Here you thought him telling you about his most embarrassing memories of his younger self is considered intimate enough. You could feel your tears welling up, your gaze blurry as you tore your eyes off of the 'couple' and you stomped off and out of the hall, pushing through the crowd like a loaded bulldozer.

You got out of the crowd by jamming yourself through any visible gaps you can see in the aphotic surroundings. Once you got out of the doors, you took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of fresh air that held hints of sourness. Then, you got onto your bike and zoomed off into the embrace of the darkness.

Panting, you wiped the ichor off of the sides of your face, hissing at the gash on your wounded arm. A parting gift from the golem that you had just managed to defeat all by yourself. You flipped your wrist over and looked at your hunter's watch. "No more missions assigned to Agent y/n at this moment." The watch reported, the stiff robotic voice eliciting a huff of annoyance from you. Well, it is late in the middle of the night and you should really be on your way home.

You looked up into the skies as you navigated your way back to your vehicle. Stars littering all over the deadened skies provided a sense of relevancy to your self-isolation for the past few months. Your breakup with Xavier was done through a phone call, with you calling things off without even providing a explanation and blocking him right after. Following up, you requested to be switched to another branch and got yourself moved to a new location. Just like this, it was as if Xavier was never a part of your life.

But, he has been such a part of your routine for the past one year that it had left you in a state of bereft, seeking solace within the past fond memories that you had once shared with him. Before your trail of memories gained access to your mind, you halted your footsteps, eyes studying the three separate routes in front of you. Which one had you taken previously?

"Lost?" A voice startled you and you immediately drew your guns out of your garter belt, aimed directly at head shot level towards the source of the voice. But, you lowered your gun eventually when you came face to face with your ex-lover. "Or you just got caught up in your own thoughts?"

Your act of abnegation was shown with you not entertaining his question and instead, takes a step past him. Xavier however, held onto your arm to get you to stop and your wince alerted him of the laceration on your arm. "I'm fine, I do not seek for your care. I can handle it myself."

"Just like how you handled our breakup. Which is not the most mature I'd say." Xavier loosened his grip and sighed, turning to face you and his voice came off softer. "I have been searching everywhere for you, do you know that?"

"Like I'd said Xavier, there is nothing I wish to clarify to you. A breakup is a breakup." You stood your ground, eyes digging its way through the soil if that is an eligible euphemism amidst this awkward moment.

"You not having the wish to clarify the reasons for our breakup does not mean that I do not wish to know about it y/n. So, are you going to break it to me or would you wish to be left alone?" Desperation came upon his voice as he spoke. If you have a better sense of hearing, you might just be able to catch the slight change of octave in his voice. Oh, how you wish you could just disappear right now, just evaporating up into the night skies. "Y/n."

"Why did you kept a secret behind my back? Especially when it involves your ex-girlfriend having a pregnancy?" You managed to spit out after a minute of contemplation. Escaping is not an option for you either when your ex-lover has the ability to teleport within a good amount of range.

Xavier's lips opened and closed again, hesitation flashed across his face and his eyebrows knitted together now. "What?" His response to a question with another question got you curious so you looked at him. The poor young man looked shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked. "I do not have an ex-girlfriend."

Your confidence crumbled with a big gaping hole in the middle of your heart as you stared at him with the same expression of his. "That day, at the reunion party. I saw you were chatting with a girl and I overheard the conversation from the people beside me stating that the both of you used to share an intimate connection and you got her knocked up--"

Your voice slowly trailed off when the moonlight peeked through the crevices in between the leaves of the trees, illuminating Xavier's lack of expression in front of you. Although he wears a poker face, you can tell that he was borderline amused and yet in a state of pity for your behalf. "Someone owes me a big apology I suppose." Yes, of course you do. "Just to fill in the gaps for you, the girl I was speaking to used to be my partner till she got married and have to take care of her child hence she got transferred to another division. The story that you heard of, was hers, but the guy part, I am definitely not involved."

"I'm so so sorry Xavier. I just couldn't believe what I was hearing and my emotions got to the best of me. I am so sorry." Your lip trembled as you spoke, voice cracking when you finally admitted that you are the jerk for having to pull such a stunt on him over some petty rumours that you refuse to address to him. "I didn't mean to." Your body was jerked forward and your forehead collided with his warm chest. His arms was quick to pull you in for a hug. "I forgive you y/n. It's okay, don't cry." Yet, you still failed to oblige and started to sob into his chest like a child that received her very first lecture. "I am glad I still managed to find you even after all of these months." His hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back until you regained back your composure. His palms rising up and falling down according to the undulating tempo of your breaths.

"Thank you for coming for me." Your arms tightened around his waist and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto the top of your forehead.

"I will be looking forward to you making up for this mistake of yours." He smiled, the moonlight cascading onto the both of you like a stage light. "Let's start with no more breaking up over stupid rumours okay?"

@elysiel is the lovely reader who came up with this idea hence I decided to put my own twist into things so I hope you are very much pleased my love and @prettytemis wished to be tagged when I post this up so here it goes! <3

[mikedfaist]

can we get more pregnant!reader??? like when she’s actually going into labor and he takes her to the hospital? supportive sweetie mike is my favorite

Mike took the classes. He read the books. He sought insight from his friends who have already ventured down this path before. The hospital bag was ready. The nursery was complete – alongside a crib he did indeed decide to build. He was ready for fatherhood. Frankly, he welcomed it with open arms. He already loved his little girl so much that he couldn’t imagine that love growing anymore than it already is. How is that even possible?

When those first real contractions hit in the middle of the night – much different than the “practice” ones from before – your first instinct isn’t to wake up Mike. No, you let him sleep. You scamper into the kitchen, lay down on the couch and turn on Modern Family. They weren’t far enough apart yet. No point in going to the hospital. No point in waking up your boyfriend. Until your water breaks, you are going to relax as much as you can until the pain permeates to the point of surrender.

You don’t have to wake him up though, because that boy senses your absent presence, and goes looking for you. It wasn’t unusual to find you in the kitchen in the middle of the night; when a craving calls, it calls. This time though, he caught you in the middle of a contraction. Not unbearable – you were even able to talk through it, but he saw it in your eyes. Less than a minute, and it was over.

When you told him you’ve been having contractions for the last hour, you might as well have told him you joined a cult.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He was aghast.

“There’s no point right now! Can’t even go to the hospital. This could last for hours, Michael. Hours. Maybe in the morning something worth telling you about will happen.” You didn’t mean it in a bad way. Obviously, anything that happens in this pregnancy he wants to know about. To you, this was nothing. If the contractions weren’t five minutes apart, then why bother? “Go back to sleep, okay? Get your rest while you can.”

“You really think I can just go back to sleep when you’re in labor?”

“Early labor, it barely counts.”

“It does count.”

“When my water breaks, then I’ll bother you with my problems. But for now, I’m chillin’.”

By morning, seven hours later, things had progressed enough for you to roll over onto your side and shake your boyfriend awake.

“It fucking hurts.”

“It’s just early labor, babe, it barely counts.”

“I will break up with you—do not test me right now.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon when your water broke in the middle of the kitchen as he was making you grilled cheese. (You made him finish the grilled cheese before leaving). Once at the hospital, he fed you ice chips, massaged your back, kissed your forehead, and let you fracture each of his fingers. He did nearly pass out when you got your epidural, and again when you did eventually give birth. His excuse was he had forgotten to eat because he was so focused on you, but you remember how white he got watching a real birth video in preparation for this moment.

Once you begin pushing, he’s beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, letting you squeeze his hand until it’s purple. He’s so gentle with his encouragements, whispering it in your ear and kissing your temple. He can’t put into words how amazed he is with you in this moment. He thought he loved you before, but that love has grown exponentially. You not only grew and protected their child, but you were putting yourself through hell to bring her into this world. It’s something he’ll never know firsthand, and he knows he’ll never be able to look at you the same way from now on. You really were the most incredible woman he has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When they hear that first cry, he nearly breaks into sobs. All those months of waiting, and being very impatient about it, have finally come to an end, and his baby girl is right there. She’s so tiny—how is she so tiny? How is she so tiny but expelling a cry so loud and raucous?

“She has a set of lungs on her, for sure.”

When they set her on your chest, she instantly quietens. She knows that’s her momma. Mike has to cover his mouth to control his cries. None of the books taught him how to handle the moment he meets his baby girl for the first time. He leans over and caresses his finger over her hand—holy fuck it’s so tiny! Instinctively, she grabs his finger, and refuses to let go. There’s nothing quite as strong as a baby’s grip.

He loses count of how many times he tells you he loves you. A million times wouldn’t even be enough.

[scuderiahalf]

brother's prejudice — max fewtrell

pairings. max fewtrell x norris!fem!reader, lando norris x twin!fem!reader

summary. you have always been happy to support lando in any way you can but when he can't give that same support back when your relationship with his best friend is revealed, you're left wondering if your relationship with your twin brother will ever be the same. 4.2k, 18+

playlist. "idfc" by blackbear, "the heart wants what it wants" by selena gomez, "our song" by taylor swift, "it will come back" by hozier, "make me like you" by gwen stefani

warnings. lando's a bit of a dick but he makes up for it, censored oral (male receiving)

. . .

"Do you want me to suck your dick or do you want to watch Markiplier?"

"Do you want an honest answer?"

You huffed, and started to get out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

"No, baby, I'm just kidding."

Max grabbed hold of your hand before you even fully got to your feet. He tugged you back onto the mattress, pushed you down and hovered over you.

"You're too late. The moment is gone," you said.

"I'm sorry."

He tried to kiss you but only got your cheek when you turned your head to the side.

"Baby, don't be like that. C'mon."

He kissed your neck and your breath caught in your throat because you were just a girl. You were just a weak girl when it came to Max.

"I love you," he said into the skin of your neck.

"Hm," you pretended to consider it, "Apology accepted. Lay down, drama queen."

You pushed at Max's shoulder and he let you get on top of him. You grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand to pull your hair back with.

Max let his hands slide under your shirt—which was actually his shirt, which was why he was only in his sleep shorts at the moment. He freely let himself feel you up as you tied your hair up, squeezing your thighs and hips, your ass and up to your boobs.

"You've got to stop groping me if you want me to give you a blowjob."

"But you know how much I love groping you."

You laughed and pulled his hands out of your shirt. You intertwined your fingers with his, leaned down to kiss his nose.

"You're really making it seem like you don't want me to suck you off."

"I never said that."

You kissed the knuckles on each of Max's hands before shimmying further down the bed, pulling the blankets with you. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Max's sighs of pleasure and the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth.

Then, someone with the spare keycard to Max's hotel room unlocked the door and entered without knocking.

"Max, mate, the plane's leaving at ten, not eleven, apparently. I tried texting you in the group chat but—what. The. Fuck."

Thank god Lando was a naturally loud individual, giving just enough time for you to sit up and wipe your mouth, for Max to pull his shorts back up. You both faced Lando with similar caught expressions, still tangled up in bed together but thankfully without your lips currently around Max’s dick.

"Are you actually kidding me? My sister? What the fuck, mate?"

You jumped in to try and defuse the situation before it escalated. "Lando, just wait a second. Let me explain—"

Lando cut you a harsh glare. "I'm not fucking talking to you. We can talk about you acting like a slag later."

You drew back, more than a little hurt at your twin's words and the tone in which he said them.

"Don't talk to her like that," Max stood up for you.

"That's really what you're worried about right now?"

"That you're calling your sister a slag? Yeah, it is."

"What the fuck is going on? You get busy with the one girl that has always been off limits and you think you're some sort of knight in shining armor?"

"Let's just all wait a second. Yeah? Let's just take a breath."

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“Lando, if you think—“

“Please don’t argue, Max—“

“He’s being a fucking dick to you, Y/N—“

“I’m being the dick? You’re shagging my sister—“

“That’s no excuse to talk to her like that—“

“It’s not like that—“

“How long has this been going on?”

“Lando, just listen—“

“Ten months.”

You close your eyes.

“TEN MONTHS!”

The flight back home was going to be a long one.

.

“You really don’t have to come.”

“Do you not want me to come?”

“No, I do but… Lando is going to be there.”

“And you don’t trust him not to cause a scene?”

“I don’t know if I trust either of you not to get into a shouting match in front of our parents.”

You were already dressed and ready to go to your parents for dinner. You sat on the bathroom counter as Max finished getting ready. He was fixing his hair, the last step before he would be done, also.

You watched as the gentle, concentrated furrow in his brow deepened to one of anger. “He called you a slag, Y/N. I don’t care if he’s your brother; that’s not okay.”

“He said I was acting like a slag—“

“Same difference.”

“—and he didn’t mean it. He was just caught off guard. I did go behind his back…”

“Don’t paint him as the victim. Admittedly, we probably should have told him sooner but that doesn’t mean he gets it be a dick about it.”

Max momentarily abandoned his hair to squeeze your knee.

“You have to stop making excuses for him.”

“He’s my brother.”

“And he has always walked all over you. When was the last time he properly apologized to you for anything?"

“Max…”

This wasn’t the first time Max had brought this up and every time, you deflected or excused everything Max tried to shine a light on. Lando was Max’s best friend but he was your brother, your twin brother. You had never not known him.

Lando was integral in who you were as a person. You were made as a pair. You grew up as a pair. You had always had each other. He was your built in best friend. You always had his back, no matter what.

If you were a pushover, if you let Lando tease you and speak to you in ways you’d never let anyone else, if you tolerated things from him you that you shouldn’t, then that was your decision.

Max didn’t understand that. He didn’t seem capable of understanding the complex workings of your relationship with your twin. You would do anything for Lando, regardless of what it would mean for you, and you were fine with that.

That was how it had always been: Lando, the showman, and you, the supportive sister. Even back when you were karting together, Lando was out front and you were playing defense to protect his position.

You celebrated his victories more than you ever celebrated your own but that was fine. He was your brother and you loved him.

“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Max relented on that front. “But this is a step too far. He doesn’t get to act like a petulant little kid because I’m dating you. Calling you names and running away to Monaco when he’s meant to be filming with Quadrant. He’s being ridiculous.”

Some part of you knew the punishment of Lando ignoring you for the past month didn’t fit the crime of not telling him you were dating Max. The bigger, more conscious part of you felt like carving “traitor” into your forearm with a steak knife and hoping the pain would make your brother forgive you.

Your messages to Lando had become a wall of blue, full of apologies, begging to let you explain, attempts at striking up a conversation like normal, asking if he had meant to cancel your plane ticket to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix followed by even more apologies and then congratulations on a race well done.

You played with your fingers the whole car ride. Max reached over at one point after you had started picking at your cuticles to kiss the back of your hand and hold it the rest of the way, making idle talk that did nothing to distract you from what you were headed towards.

After Lando found you two in Max’s hotel room and the ensuing argument got heated on both of the boys’ sides, Max stayed with you for a few days. When he finally went back to his and Lando’s London flat hoping to talk things out before filming for Quadrant, Lando had cleared out.

He posted a rather passive aggressive Instagram story a few days later about “real friends” featuring some other F1 drivers all holding padel rackets. Max had not been happy when he found you torn up over it, shedding tears over the fear that you had lost your brother.

You had always been sensitive. Quick to cry, quick to care, quick to get attached, quick to get hurt. Lando poked fun at you for it your entire lives but he was also the first to jump in and defend you whenever anyone else said anything to you.

Lando’s distance over the last few weeks hurt. Like, physically hurt. You would see something that you thought he would find funny and go to text him about it just to remember he was giving you the silent treatment and your chest would hurt for the next several hours as you waited on a reply that never came.

Despite it all, when you saw Lando stood in the kitchen with your mom, the first time you had seen him in over three weeks, you couldn't help but smile.

He was halfway to returning it, as if on instinct alone. Then, he noticed Max at your back and his face fell devoid of any sort of pleased emotion. Your own smile fell, chest starting to ache again.

“Y/N darling, there you are.” Your mom came over to hug you and kiss your cheek, then did the same to Max. “And Max! Your best be treating my girl right.”

"Of course, Mrs Norris."

"Stop it with that; I've told you to call me Cisca."

"Mum knows?" Lando said. "You already told mum? Did she know before I did?"

You drew a sharp breath. It was difficult to talk to Lando when his tone was both wounded and accusatory.

"She called me not long after you boys had your spat," your mom explained, "Told me all about her and Max and I couldn't be more pleased. I always knew you fancied him, Y/N, even back in your karting days."

"Muuuum," you groaned, embarrassed even if Max already knew how long you had been crushing on him.

Max laughed and kissed your cheek. "The Shield fancied me."

"Shut up."

“The Shield” was the cringe-worthy nickname that karting media outlets had given you back in the day on account of how difficult it was to overtake you. So much of your karting career had been defense for Lando but you always felt a little victorious whenever you made a boy mad about getting beat by you simply because he couldn't get around you.

You could have gone far in racing if you hadn't quit after a single season of F4.

Lando gagged at Max's display of affection.

Max zeroed in on him, eyes sharp and mouth opening to call him out. You caught his shirt between your fingers, silently reminding him that he had promised not to start a fight. He looked mighty unhappy about it, but Max let his chest deflate and followed you into the dining room to help your other siblings set the table.

Ten minutes later, you all sat down to eat.

This was not the first time Max had dinner with your family. It had become such a common occurrence that it didn't cross any of your minds that your typical seating arrangement had your dad at one head of the table, your mom at the other, your older brother and sisters on one side, and you, Lando, and Max on the other, in that order, always with Lando between you.

Even dating Max, you didn’t think to sit next to him because that was Lando’s seat. It didn’t even cross your mind that it might not have been the best decision to sit your twin next to his best friend who had gone behind his back to date you for months without telling him but it was too late for that.

Lando was the last to sit down after going to retrieve the forgotten napkins. You considered swapping seats last minute as he hesitated over the dining room threshold, then thought better of making a scene and resigned yourself to a torturous dinner without being able to hold Max's hand through it all.

After getting caught by Lando, you had told your mom about you and Max. She had obviously clued your father in but you weren't sure which of your siblings knew the full extent of what went down when Lando found out.

Oliver and Cisca seemed oblivious enough, even if they were casting confused glances at you, Lando and, Max, trying to figure out why the three of you weren't speaking to each other. However, Flo was keeping an awfully watchful eye on your twin and boyfriend, as though waiting for the show to begin.

Table talk was casual and nearly pleasant. With Lando uncharacteristically silent beside you, and Max refusing to so much as look at his best friend, you couldn't fully enjoy spending time with your family while they were all together.

Max caught your eye behind Lando. He gave you a smile, one you couldn't quite return. Lando leaned back and got in the way of your eyeline to Max. You turned back to your food, continuing to pick at the delicious pork your mom had cooked but not able to enjoy it.

"Max, what of you?"

"Sorry?" Max was about as clueless to the conversation at hand as you were.

"Do you have plans to visit Monaco any more this year?"

They must have been talking about the trip your parents and youngest sister would be taking to Monaco during Cisca's summer break. You had planned on taking time off work to go with them, as well as with Max later in the year, closer to the end of the F1 season to attend a few races and help film some Quadrant content.

"Are you and Y/N going sometime together, possibly?"

It was a harmless enough suggestion from your mother. She probably only wanted to try and get Lando and Max to say a word to each other.

Then, despite having already agreed to house both of you later in the year, Lando said, "They haven't mentioned anything."

You really were not enjoying this dinner.

It was getting harder and harder to have all your siblings in the same place as you all got older. Only Cisca lived at home now and she was going off to uni in Manchester next year.

You missed when being with your family was easy, when you didn't even have to think about it. You missed your childhood bedroom that was now the second guest bedroom, your and Lando's bunk beds long gone.

You missed your brother terribly, even if it had only been about three and a half weeks since contact was cut. You didn't want to lose him to something like this but at the same time, you couldn't imagine letting Max go.

Max made you so happy. Couldn't Lando see that? Couldn't he see how in love you were? Couldn't he accept your and Max's relationship for the sake of not wanting to lose his twin sister and best friend?

You would do anything for Lando. You had given up so much for him. You supported him at every twist and turn of your lives. You just wanted things to be okay again.

"Y/N darling, what’s wrong?"

Your mom’s question was quiet, meant to not attract anyone’s attention. But Lando and Max were both quiet, too, in unsettling amounts from the two of them. They both looked at you just in time to see you wiping at your cheek.

"I'm fine."

Except you weren't fine. You were sad and nostalgic and sick of feeling that way and now you were all teary. You just wanted a nice dinner with your family where the two men you loved most in the world acted normal and you didn't start randomly crying at the dining table.

Lando put his hand on your arm. "Y/N/N, are you alright?"

Like his touch finally shook loose something inside you that you had been holding back since the hotel argument or maybe even longer, you rounded on your twin brother.

"No, I'm not alright! How could I be alright when you're acting like this?"

Lando immediately threw his walls back up, going on defense. "You and Max went behind my back."

"And that means you get to throw a month long hissy fit over it?"

"You've been dating for ten months!"

"It's actually eleven, now, mate."

Lando turned to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. "Shut up, Max."

"Stop being a dick, Lando! Just stop! Yes, we should have told you sooner. Yes, I'm sorry you found out like you did. But that doesn't mean you get to treat me, treat us like this."

"How am I supposed to react?"

"You're supposed to get over the initial shock and be happy that two of the people you care about are happy together."

(On the other side of the table, Cisca leaned closer to Oliver. "When did Y/N and Max start dating?"

"I think he said eleven months ago."

"That long and they haven't told us?"

Flo shushed them both. "Shut up; I'm trying to watch.")

"How am I meant to be happy about you two lying to me for the last year?" Lando demanded.

"I have been trying to apologize and talk to you about that for the last month and you haven't let me! You ran off to Monaco, ditched your Quadrant responsibilities, and left me thinking that I'd ruined things forever. That's such a dick move, Lando! Fuck—"

You were crying again. You wiped angrily at your cheeks, wanting to be taken seriously and get your point across but it was difficult when you had tears running down your face.

"You can't just ditch me like that when things get rough. It's not fair when I've been there with you through everything. I have never not supported you. I have always been there for you. I quit racing so that you wouldn't get passed over. But the second I do something you don't like, you can't give me even an ounce of support in return."

"What do you mean you quit racing so I wouldn't get passed over?"

Your chest went still, blood running cold. Shit. Shit shit shit, Lando was never meant to know about that. You had never planned on telling him. Never ever. Not even when you were old and saggy and there would be no consequences. You were meant to take that secret to the grave.

"That's not what's important. I don't understand—"

"What did you mean, Y/N?"

You gulped. "It's nothing. It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't matter."

"Y/N."

.

"Me? You want to sign me?"

The Josef Kaufmann Racing representative grinned at your bewilderment. "Yes, you."

"No way. Are you serious?"

"Completely. It obviously won't be set in stone today and we'll need to speak with your parent or guardian but Carlin would be lucky to have you on our roster next season."

"Oh my god. No way!"

You had been worried about next season as all the 2015 series were nearing their ends and you had yet to have been scouted by any teams. Your contract with Mücke Motorsport was coming to an end after this season but now you had been offered a seat in the next level of racing, at the same team your brother was in talks with, no less.

"Oh, this is great! Lando and I will still be on the same team. You know, my brother and I have always walked about being on the same F1 team. That would be crazy, obviously, but this is just like that but on a smaller scale."

"We'd not be giving your brother a seat."

Your excitement was gone in an instant. "Sorry?"

"Lando wouldn't have the seat in Formula Renault. It would be yours, instead."

"You're offering me... my brother's seat."

"That is correct."

Just like that, you let your career die. "I don't want it, then."

The rep blinked at you. "What?"

"Give the seat to Lando. He's who you want. He's the better driver. He has always finished before me."

"He would not have if you were not defending his position. Josef Kaufmann would rather have you driving for them next year."

"I don't want the seat. Give it to Lando. I was planning on quitting racing, anyway. Sign Lando for next year. He'll do well for you."

.

"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"

You ducked your head. "Don't blow it out of proportion."

"You gave away you entire racing career at the drop of a hat because you didn't want to take a seat that I hadn't even been signed for yet? You— Why would you do that?"

"Because you're my brother."

Behind Lando, Max was staring at you, wide-eyed. All around the table, your family openly stared at you in shock, not quite able to believe the real reason you had suddenly dropped out of racing.

The reason you had given was that you had gotten bored of it. That you had only ever gotten into it because of Lando. That you didn’t want to constantly be in competition with your brother. That when Lando got famous, you didn’t want to be his lesser racing counterpart.

There may have been some truth in those excuses but the whole truth was this: you had been offered the seat Lando was negotiating for and you would not take it from him. You loved racing; you did not love it more than you loved your brother.

“Y/N, I… I honestly don’t even know what to say.”

“You could start with an apology,” Max offered.

“To both of us,” you added.

Max leaned back in his chair. “I’m good back here. Worry about me later.”

“No, she’s right,” Lando said. “I’ve been a real dick to both of you over the last few weeks. You guys didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve always had Max as my chosen best friend and you, Y/N, as my built in best friend but then you guys started getting closer. Then, I found out you’re together and it’s like, what do you need me for if you have each other?”

Any anger you may have been holding onto melted into sympathy. “Aw, Lando—“

“You are so fucking thick, mate,” Max cut in. “You think I’m going to treat my girlfriend the same way I treat your dumbass? I need a platonic best friend just as much as I need a romantic one.”

You laughed at the face Lando pulled.

“If you start referring to us as your platonic and romantic best friends, I’m fleeing to Monaco again.”

“It’s too late. It’s already started, platonic best friend.”

“Eugh, this is terrible. Go back to being awkward acquaintances, please.”

“I love her, mate. There’s no going back from that.”

You loved Max. Wholly and truly you did. How well he got along with Lando was just the icing on the cake, another thing to add onto the list of reasons you were stupidly in love with him.

Your lovesick expression must have been quite obvious because suddenly Lando was shoving your head to the side with a hand over your face.

“Oh my god, don’t look at him like that—I’m gonna barf.”

(Oliver had gone back to his food.

Cisca was still watching, confused. “Wait, so Y/N and Max have been dating for eleven months and not even Lando knew? Why?”

“Apparently, it was an oversight.”

Flo speared an asparagus. “This is better than any TV show I’ve watched all year.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Oliver said.

“I’m the only one enjoying this the correct amount. I’ve been waiting for Lando to stop cockblocking Y/N and Max since 2014. I am allowed to be entertained by their drama.”)

“Can we circle back to the whole quit racing because of Lando thing?” Max asked, “Because what the fuck, babe?”

“You quit racing, too!”

“Because I was burnt out, not because I would rather throw my entire career away than make my brother momentarily unhappy while other teams jumped at the opportunity to sign him up.”

“It’s fine! I mean, look at where Lando is now. Season number five of Formula One! It all worked out in the end.”

.

“Are you really okay with us being together?”

You stood outside with Lando and Max after dinner had finished up. Your parents were loading the dishwasher, Oliver was driving off down the street, and Flo was finishing up doing something with Cisca inside. The three of you were finally able to talk privately.

Lando was quiet for a while after your question. He still seemed a little hesitant but it wasn’t anywhere near how he had reacted in the hotel. He glanced down at where you were holding Max’s hand, then looked away, still thinking.

“You’re not allowed to have sex while I’m in the flat,” is what Lando eventually decided on saying.

Max, unimpressed, said, “It’s a bit late for that, mate.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.

Lando yelled his displeasure quite loudly. Max just laughed at him, not at all apologetic.

Even if your face was burning, at least you knew things would be okay. You had your brother back. Max had his best friend back. And Lando had both of you back.

The three of you were messy and intertwined but you would be okay.

[mrsrdlw]

don’t worry, sweetheart

summary: you were supposed to be spending the night with your boyfriend, Billy. But suddenly, in the middle of the night, you showed up in front of your best friend’s house.

warnings: physical aggression (reader gets injured); toxic relationship; mentions of injuries; angst;daddy issues? (that’s from billy). please tell if i’m missing anything

Eddie was sleeping when he heard knocking at the door. Who could it be? At this time of the night? Maybe Wayne forgot his keys again…

But when he opened the door, it wasn’t Wayne, it was you. At first he doesn’t realize what it’s happening, but when he gets a closer look, his eyes double in size. He rushes to help you. “Jesus H. Christ! What happened?!” He helps you get inside where is warmer. He kneels beside you. “Y/N.. What happened?…” You’re all cut up and there was bloodstains all over your clothes.

“i can’t eddie i just… i just need your help now” you said tearing up.

“Yeah… I’m here.. I’m here…” Eddie replies. He’s more concerned on how bad you look than being confused. “Hold still, I’m gonna clean your wounds a bit…” He grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom. Then he starts to gently clean your wounds. “Tell me what happened..”

Your eyes were already red and puffy of the many tears you had cried. You looked deeply into his eyes and almost immediately looked down at where his hand were cleaning the injured wrist. “I… Eds i can’t, what if…”. I couldn’t even finish my sentence without sobbing.

Eddie was being so gentle with you, cleaning you up, his hand placed on your knee, his thumb gently rubbing against the skin there. He can’t help but feel his heart ache when he sees you sobbing. “Hey.. It’s okay, Y/N.. Your safe here.. It’s alright.” He tries to soothe you. “I’m not going anywhere, just try and relax…”

You stayed quiet for a while but you felt like you needed to explain the whole situation to him.

“We were just watching a movie in the living room when we heard a knock at the door. Before, we thought it was only Max coming back home, but then his father opened the door, completely drunk carrying a bottle of whiskey on his hand…”

Eddie could see in your eyes that you were living everything all over again.

“He started to mumble things, cursing and aggressively waving his hands, giving Billy no space to move. Until then, he didn’t realize i was there. But, he started beating the shit out of Billy and he just laid there, on the floor. He was not even reacting! I had to do something Eddie, so i tried to pull him out of Billy and he pushed me hard with his elbow, making me fall over the center table.”

Eddie’s expression was very difficult to read. He was listening every word you were saying.

“So, when he heard the table fall, he turned around and dropped the bottle right next to me. I could swear that he was going to hit me, but then Billy got to take his arms and pushed him in the bathroom, locking him in there. When Billy got back to the living room, i asked him if he was ok and he yelled at me. I got scared and that made me fall right on the broken glass. He didn’t helped me, he just turned around and asked me to go away, leave him alone so he could take care of his dad, who was almost braking the door.”

You took a deep breath and Eddie’s hand kept caressing carefully the skin where wasn’t injured.

“i didn’t know where to go Eddie, i couldn’t go home, you were the first person that i could think of.”

Eddie’s eyes glowed with intense anger and frustration directed towards Billy's dad. The way he treated Billy, and the part about almost hitting you with the broken bottle enraged Eddie. Not to mention Billie himself, why didn’t he do anything? He should have helped you! He felt the strong urge to go and confront Billy and his dad himself, but he knew you needed him more in that moment. He kept his voice steady, trying to maintain control of his emotions. “You’re safe here, Y/N. I’m glad you came here… Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I don’t know… besides from the cuts we can see, my back is hurting a little.” you said worried.

Eddie nods and gently runs his hand across your back, feeling for any obvious injuries. “Take your shirt off, let me see.” He says softly.

You hesitated for a second and then, turning around, you took your shirt off. His silence was concerning so you ask him. “Is it too bad?” Your voice was soft and quiet.

Eddie checks your back, his touch remaining gentle. He notices some red marks, probably bruises forming already, and some superficial scratches, but overall the injuries don’t seem severe. “You’ll be okay, just some bruising. You just need a nice hot shower to relax and you’ll feel better." You give him a fake smile.

He looks at you with sympathy and worry in his eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to go back to Billy’s anytime soon… You know you can stay as long as you need, right?"

“That’d be great. If my mom sees me like this i don’t even know what she would say… I could really use the shower you were talking about.” you said with a weak voice, taking his hands in yours. “Would you help me? I really need it but i don’t think i can do it by myself.”

In the reality, you didn’t want to be alone. You’ve already walked the whole way here. It was enough.

Eddie nods. “Of course i’ll help you.” He says softly, his voice full of compassion. He stands up and holds out his hand to you, offering assistance as you get up from the couch. He leads you to the bathroom, turning on the hot water. The room starts to fill with steam.

“I might have to help you wash your hair and the rest of your body.” He was hesitant, not even looking at your face. “Is that okay or does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, of course it doesn’t!” he just nods his head turning around to get a towel. “I just… i don’t want to be alone.”

Eddie nods understandingly again. He turns around to give you at least a little bit of privacy so you can take you clothes off and carefully help you get into the bathtub, managing not to look directly to your naked body until you get under the water. He's gentle with every touch, making sure not to hurt you further.

The warm water was still cascading over your head. When the bathtub was filled with hot water, he turned off the water and started to apply shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp carefully. The feeling of his touch is both soothing and intimate, his care and affection apparent with each movement.

“Hey… can i share something with you.” You say under your breath

Eddie smiles softly, pausing his task of washing your hair. "Of course you can." He says softly. "You can share anything with me Y/N, you know it." His eyes are full of understanding and support.

“Before everything, Billy took me out for dinner right, and he mentioned of wanting to be with me like for real, for life and everything.” you sighted.

Eddie's heart skips a beat. He didn't expect you to bring this up, but he listens intently, his eyes meeting yours, you look at him over your shoulder. A mix of emotions played on his face, but he kept a neutral expression. Eddie had a crush on you since he became friends with you. Way before you meeting Billy. But he thought you didn’t felt the same way about him. So he never said anything, realizing he was happy to have you as his best friend.

He continued to lather your hair gently, his fingers massaging your scalp. He chose his next words carefully. "And how do you feel about that, Y/N?"

“I didn’t know if i should believe him or not. He’s always so extreme about everything. Just like tonight. We were talking nonsense and, when his father showed up, he snapped. I mean, i know about his relationship with his dad but that doesn’t mean he has to be such an asshole with me when he’s around.” you instantly feel bad for talking badly about you boyfriend like that. “But that’s just how he is, right? He probably didn’t meant any of that and…”

Eddie continued to wash your hair listening your words towards your boyfriend. Maybe, after today, he didn’t possessed this position anymore.

“Sorry, i always do this. I keep trying to find a fucking excuse for everything. That’s how toxic this is! But, especially after this night, i don’t want to spend my life with him, Eddie. To be honest, i don’t even know how we got to extend this relationship for longer then two weeks, it was supposed to be just a kiss….” Eddie was looking at you with pitiful eyes. You just hugged your knees and came back looking at your hand under water. “I guess the walk to here was helpful, wasn’t it….”

Eddie listens quietly. His expression softens as he sees the turmoil in you, the uncertainty and fear. "You don't have to apologize for anything,” He replies softly. "I understand that relationships are messy and complicated.. And they don't always turn out the way we hope." He pauses for a moment, gently rinsing the shampoo out of your hair. "It's okay to feel conflicted. And sometimes, a walk can offer more clarity than we realize."

“You always know the right thing to say, don’t you?”

Eddie smiles softly, shaking his head a little. "Nah, I just kinda speak my mind sometimes..” He chuckles a little, his tone light. You get to finish the rest of your bath in silence.

He reaches over you and grabs your towel, holding it open. “C’mere, lemme dry you up,” he gestures for you to come out of the shower, still fully naked. He’s still being careful of your injuries as he begins drying your body off. Of course Eddie always treated you differently than others, with more affection. But this felt different. A good different for sure.

When he wrap you around the towel you can’t help but lean into his chest, needing to feel his gentle touch and warm skin. “Thank you… for everything. I’d be lost without you” i say greatfully

Eddie holds you close, embracing you securely. He rests his chin on your head. "You’ve been through a lot, Y/N.. I’m glad I can be here for you," he whispers softly. He runs a hand through your wet hair, offering comfort. "I promise you’re safe here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ve got you."

“I hope you don’t really mean it, i’ll get super spoiled like that.” You tease him looking up but not stepping back.

Eddie laughs softly, his arms still wrapped around you. “Spoiled?” he replies, a teasing tone in his voice. “Oh, I mean it, alright. You deserve all the spoiling.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek gently.

You get a little nervous when you realized how close you were and, in a snap of a finger, the bathroom felt too small. You clear up your throat and pretend that non of the tension was there. “So, can i borrow something to wear? I’m pretty sure you have a drawer full of cute pj’s” You tease again so things don’t get wired.

Eddie’s eyes sparkle with excitement at the idea of getting to dress you in his clothes. He nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, I have plenty of options. You’re gonna look so damn cute,” he grins confidently, his voice full of eagerness. You can’t help but giggle.

He carefully helps you step out of the bathroom, keeping a gentle hold on you to make sure you’re steady on your feet. You get inside of his room and you’ve been there thousands of times but today, his room felt so comforting. You wait patiently sat on his bed as he searches for something you could wear. Eddie rummages through his drawers, pushing aside piles of t-shirts and jeans until he finds a few items that catch his eye. He holds up a thin, oversized black band t-shirt and a pair of comfy gray sweatpants.

“How about these?” He says, showing them to you with a grin. “Cozy and comfy, guaranteed to make you feel nice, snuggled up and very metal.”

You’re smiling at him and that makes him feel better, knowing that you’re safe and comfortable around him. “That’s just what i need, thanks.”

Eddie smiles proudly and hands you the clothes he picked, the t-shirt and sweatpants laying neatly in your hands. "There you go. They might be a little bit big on you, but comfy is the ultimate goal right now." He waits by the door, giving you privacy. "Take your time and get dressed. Don't rush," he adds softly.

You try to put the clothes by yourself but when you lifted your arms, it hurt badly. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but your attempts of putting his shirt weren’t working. “Eds, can you…..help me?”

Eddie looks back, noticing your struggle and clearly sensing your discomfort. A look of concern crosses his face and he walks over to you, gently taking the shirt from your hands.

"Yeah, it’s okay," he says softly, understanding your struggle. He carefully helps you slide the shirt over your head, being mindful of your injuries. When your head finally pops out through the neck of the shirt, he can’t help but smile a little at how adorable you look in his clothes. You managed to put the rest of the clothes on your own and sat on the bed again. “Oh they really are very comfy” you say feeling the fabric on your skin

Eddie sits down beside you on the bed, a warm smile on his face. "Told you," he says, putting a lock of damp hair behind your ear. "Nothing beats the comfort of a good pair of sweatpants." His eyes shine with contentment and he takes a moment to study your face. “How are you feeling now?" He places a gentle hand on your back, his thumb softly rubbing circles against your skin.

“Much better. Thank to you.” You look into his big brown doe eyes and feel very exposed under his sight. “i’m sorry again. i feel bad for ruining your night.”

Eddie shakes his head, his expression softening. "You’ve got nothing to apologize for, don’t say that," he reassures you. "You’re not ruining anything." He gently pulls you into a comforting cuddle against his chest, wrapping his arms around you, careful not to apply too much pressure on your injured back. "Besides, this is much better than any plan I had anyway." he adds softly, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

Your head was once again laying on his chest. You think for a while listening to his heartbeat and you couldn’t help but say “I love you eddie” and you meant it.

Hearing your words, Eddie's heart skips a beat. He freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. It’s as if time stands still for a second.

His heart flutters as a warmth spreads through him, not just from your words but also from the feeling of your body against his own. His grip around you tightens a little as he fully absorbs the magnitude of what you’ve just said.

He’s taken aback by the emotional force of your confession, but his heart responds immediately with an overwhelming sense of love and affection for you.

You could hear his heartbeats getting faster and smiled at that. A couple weeks ago, Robin accidentally told you that Eddie liked you way more than just friends. At first you thought she was joking but now you see it.

Your eyes were closed enjoying the moment but when you opened them, you looked at the clock and saw how late it was “Oh my god, it’s 3 in the morning!”

Eddie glances over at his alarm clock, taking notice of the late hour. He blinks in surprise before turning his attention back to you, a warm smile on his face. "You’re right, it is super late," he says softly, his voice filled with exhaustion but also contentment. "We should probably get some rest, huh?" he suggests, though he's reluctant to break this cozy, intimate moment.

“Yeah, we should…”

Eddie nods. "Yeah, you need to rest and heal. How about you take the bed? I’ll bunk on the couch." He knows you must be tired and in need of a comfortable and restful night’s sleep. Besides, after everything you've been through, he wants to ensure you're taken care of in every way.

“No way. You’ve done enough for me tonight. I’m not taking your bed! “ You couldn’t just take his bed like that and let him sleep on the couch.

Eddie shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “I insist. I want you to be comfortable,” he says, his tone firm but gentle. “I can handle the couch just fine. You need a good night’s sleep and a comfy bed.” He stands up from the bed, extending his hand towards you. “C’mon, get under the blankets. I’ll get you something to drink, okay?” He said giving you no choice

“Are you sure?”

Eddie smiles softly, nodding. "I'm sure. You need rest more than I do." He squeezes your hand affectionately before letting go. "Trust me, I've slept in worse places than the couch. Now, get comfy and I'll bring you something nice to drink. Hot cocoa? Water?"

He wasn’t joking when he said you deserve all the spoiling you could have “Hmm…. how good is your hot cocoa? cause if it sucks, i’ll just take the water.”

Eddie acts offended, faking a gasp and clutching his chest in mock horror. "How good is my hot cocoa?" he repeats, feigning shock. "My cocoa's legendary, okay? It's gonna melt in your mouth and heal all your woes. But hey, have the water if you wanna miss out on that," You laughed at his reaction and he joined you.

“Alright then, bring me this legendary hot cocoa of yours.” Still giggling, you say in a mocking tone

Eddie smirks confidently and shoots you a wink. “Coming right up,” he says with a playful salute.”I’ll bring a hairbrush too. It looks like you headbanged in the shower… believe me, that’s exactly how it looks like.” He said having a memory before he leaves the room again. Heading to the kitchen, he start preparing the hot cocoa. You can hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, as well as the clinking of mugs and spoons.

A few minutes later, he returns with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, each topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream and a hairbrush.

"There you go miss! Your legendary cocoa, as promised," he grins, handing you one of the mugs. “Now you appreciate my drink while i brush your hair. Turn around.”

“That’s seems really good! i wasn’t expecting it to look nice” You tease him again and take a sip. Your eyes widened. “Damn, it is fucking good” you say shocked.

Eddie grins widely, a proud glint in his eyes as he watches you take a sip. "Told you it's legendary," he chuckles. "Nothing beats a well-made hot cocoa. It's all about the balance of sweetness, creaminess, and just the right amount of cocoa flavor," he says with a satisfied nod. He takes a sip from his own mug and closes his eyes for a moment to savor the taste. "Damn, I'm good." he mumbles, smirking playfully.

Once again you giggled at his words and he does so with you. Letting him finish with your hair, you finish your cocoa in silence.

Eddie carefully tucks you under the blankets after you finish your drink, making sure you're cozy and comfortable. He sits down on the edge of the bed, his gaze filled with affection and concern. "Comfy?" he asks quietly, gently stroking your hair with his fingers.

“I think i’ve never been comfier”

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle, his heart warming at your words. "Good," he replies, his voice filled with contentment. He continues to stroke your hair, the gesture gentle and soothing. "Now try to get some rest. I'm right next door if you need anything."

“Good night Eds. Thank you again”

Eddie gives you a soft smile, his eyes shining with warmth. "Good night, Y/N," he whispers, gently rubbing your arm affectionately. "You don't need to thank me. Just rest and recover. Sweet dreams." With that, he leans down and presses a light, tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer.

After he left his room, you could still feel his lips on your forehead. Maybe, tonight would change more things than you expected.

[fanfoolishness]

Growing Pains

This one came to me as a combination of prompts from @thecoffeelorian (who sent Tech and Crosshair + Cadet as a prompt!) and @summer-of-bad-batch, whose week 1 prompt was water gun fight. Somehow my brain mashed them together and here we are!

Crosshair has trouble sleeping, but Tech has an idea for a distraction. Cadet Batch, brothers being brothers, pure fluff. ~1700 words.

-

Tap tap tap.

Tap.

Tap tap.

Crosshair growled, rolling over in his bunk and kicking his legs out from under his blanket.  “Tech,” he warned.

There was no answer. Crosshair lay on his back, scowling up at the ceiling.  He reached down and rubbed his shins, wincing.  They throbbed and ached. 

More growing pains. He was so sick of them.  Nala Se said they were normal, that pain medication wouldn’t help. Crosshair wished he could just grow up already and be done with them.

He lifted his hand, nibbling at the dry skin around his fingernails, biting at it until he tasted blood.  He frowned, balling his hand into a fist and jerking it away.

Tap tap.

“Will you stop tinkering and go to sleep?” Crosshair hissed.  

“Hm?” Tech asked from across the room, where he was working on a half-scuttled battle droid under the light of a single glow lamp.

What he was doing with it, Crosshair had no idea, but the nagging tapping wasn’t helping him get to sleep any faster.  Especially not with the way his shins pulsed and ached.

“Put that thing away and go to sleep,” Crosshair snapped. “Haven’t you noticed it’s been lights out for hours?”

“You can usually sleep through my projects,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles. He got up, padding over to Crosshair and peering closely at him. Despite the late hour Tech looked as alert as ever, though his brownish hair was rumpled and dark grease smudged his cheeks.  “Why are you still awake?”

Crosshair sat up with a scowl.  “Because you’re annoying.”

Tech raised his eyebrows at him, unperturbed. “I’m no more annoying than I usually am.”

Crosshair sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.  “My legs hurt,” he confessed.  

“Oh. Growing pains.  They’re no fun.”  Tech paused, looking closely at him.  He reached out and grabbed Crosshair’s hand, examining his fingers.  “You should stop biting those, you know.”

“Shut up.”  He yanked his hand away.  “I know.  I just -- I start and it’s hard to stop sometimes.  Especially if something else is bugging me.”

Tech sat down beside him, sitting with him back to back.  Crosshair felt some of his tension fade, and he leaned into his brother, closing his eyes.  He was so tired.

But his legs twinged, as painful as ever.

“So why aren’t you asleep yet?” he asked Tech, trying to keep his mind off his legs.

“I’m trying to figure out how to reprogram this droid,” Tech said.  “Make it fight for us instead.  I know it’s a training droid, so it won’t really be fighting at all, but it’s good practice.  Maybe it’s something I could do on the battlefield, once we get our shot.”  

“Huh,” said Crosshair, impressed.  “That would be good.”  He was quiet for a minute, thinking.  “Don’t you get tired staying up, though?  You could do this stuff during the day.”

Tech fiddled with his goggles.  “I could.  But we have other training then.  I want to learn as much as I possibly can, but since we grow so quickly, that translates into less time.”  He shrugged.  “And I don’t really get tired when I’m focused.  It’s as if I go into my own little world.”

Crosshair stifled a snort.  That was an understatement.  “I’ve noticed,” he said, but considered.  He thought he knew what Tech meant.  “Like when I’m planning a really hard shot?  Everything else goes away.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Crosshair wished he had that kind of focus now.  His legs ached with another horrible set of pulses, and he rubbed at them with both hands, swearing under his breath.

“It’s particularly bad tonight, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Crosshair admitted.

“You know what helps me?” Tech asked.  “Distraction.  I may have just the thing.”  He trotted back to his tangles of wires and tools.  Crosshair watched him, wondering if they’d wake up Wrecker and Hunter.  But Hunter had buried his head under his pillow, and Wrecker could sleep through anything.

“If you want me to tear apart droids with you, thanks but no thanks,” said Crosshair. He was okay with basic datapad work, but hopeless at the intricate stuff Tech managed to do without breaking a sweat.  “They don’t make any sense to me.”

“You could learn if you wanted. You’re very bright.  Not at my level, but still —“

“Tech.”

Tech finished rummaging in his pile of projects and came back to Crosshair, pressing something into his hands.  “Here.”

Crosshair looked down at what appeared to be a small white blaster, but with a curious tank attached to it.  He lifted it and heard it slosh.  “What is it?”

“A water blaster,” said Tech. “They won’t let us have real blasters to practice with in here, of course, but I thought I’d try making something like this for practice.”  He held up a little board of shiny white material with a black target drawn on it.  “Where do you want this?”

Crosshair grinned.  “Across the room. Give me a challenge.”

“You might find it’s more of one that you think,” said Tech. “You’ll have to account for gravity, and the minimal propulsive capabilities of this water blaster compared to the real thing.”

“Hm. I’ll be the judge of that,” said Crosshair, experimentally squirting Tech with the blaster between the eyes.  Water dripped down his nose and splattered on his goggles.

“Very funny,” Tech said, mopping his forehead and lenses with his sleeve.  He flashed Crosshair one of his little half-smiles.  “All right, let me find a spot to stick this.”

“Try over here,” Hunter groaned. “Since you two are keeping me awake anyway.”  He tapped the top of his bunk.  “I think… it’ll take Crosshair four tries before he gets a bullseye.”

“Four?” Crosshair asked, offended, as Tech affixed the target above Hunter’s bunk, across the room.  He took aim with the blaster, lining up his shot, figuring that the water would take a parabolic motion at that distance.  He fired slightly higher than the target —

And the water splashed harmlessly onto the floor a good meter away.  

Crosshair stared at the dry target, infuriated.  “You didn’t tell me this thing had no power!”

“Well, look at it,” Tech chuckled. “Do you see a power source? I just put it together with some spare casing material and a simple plunger. It’s significantly limited.  That’s why I had it set aside, I’m sure I could design something much more effective if I had the time.”  Tech sat down again amongst his wires, resuming his fiddling.

Hunter yawned, sitting up and running a hand through his shaggy hair.  “Maybe four was too generous. Maybe I should make it five tries.”

Crosshair glowered.

“What are you all blabbering about?” Wrecker mumbled. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Crosshair’s trying out a new weapon,” Hunter said.  Which was the wrong thing to say around Wrecker.

“What!” Wrecker cried in excitement.  He tried to get out of his bunk, but was so tangled in his blankets that he rolled onto the floor with a thump.  From there he propped himself up on his elbows, all hint of sleepiness forgotten.  “New weapon? Where’d you get it? How’d you sneak it in? What’s it do? Can’t believe you were holding out on me —“

“It’s Tech’s. It’s just a water blaster, and not a very good one,” Crosshair said, taking aim, adjusting based on the disappointing performance of his last shot.  He experimented by slightly covering the barrel of the pistol with his fingernail, narrowing the opening, and shot a jet of water out the end. It sailed across the room, falling short of the target again but hitting Hunter square in the face.

He grinned.  That would do nicely.

“Oh that does it, Crosshair,” Hunter grumbled, wiping his face off.  “Tech! You got any more of these things?”

“Yes, I made enough for all of us,” Tech said mildly.  “Though as I said before, the design could be better…” He searched through his piles of debris and pulled out three more blasters, tossing one each to Hunter and Wrecker before whirling and squirting them both in the face with his own.

“Oh, it’s on!” Wrecker roared, rolling out of his blankets and squirting Tech three times, then training his blaster on Crosshair.

“Oh no you don’t —“

The battle was pitched and bloody.  Crosshair leapt from his bunk to take cover behind the crate that held their dirty laundry, sending out jets of water that spritzed his brothers dead in the face every time.  Wrecker charged him, wearing a blanket as armor, water from his blaster flying everywhere.  Hunter circled around on the outskirts of the fray, catching Tech from behind, but Tech pulled out a secret fifth water blaster and squirted both Hunter and Crosshair at once. 

They howled with battle cries, erupting into a mad scuffle in the center of the room, water splashing into the air, limbs a tangled frenzy.  

“I’m gonna get you!”

“I’d like to see you try!”

“You’re all dead!”

“We’ll see who has the upper hand now!”

At last the battle came to a close.  By the time they flopped onto their backs panting with exhaustion, Wrecker had a (self-inflicted) bloody nose, Hunter’s head was drenched, Tech’s goggles were halfway across the room and Crosshair had stolen all five of the blasters for himself.  

“We should do this every night,” Wrecker snorted, pinching his nose shut.

Hunter laughed, elbowing him.  “Well, it was pretty fun.”

“It was certainly a good distraction.”

Crosshair took aim with one of his blasters at the target over Hunter’s bunk.  The spray drenched the bullseye perfectly.  “There.  Three,” he said in triumph, sticking his tongue out at Hunter.

“Haha, nice one, Cross!”

“Ahhh, I knew you had it in you.  I only said four to piss you off.”

“Not that that is difficult.”

“Hey, that’s -- okay, that’s true.”

Crosshair lay on his back near his brothers, still catching his breath, his eyelids getting heavy.  He put his hands under his head and stretched out on the floor.  With the blankets Wrecker had managed to hurl around the room beneath him, he was pretty comfortable.  

Comfortable enough to stay here, just a little longer.  He yawned and his eyes fell closed.  

He drifted off to sleep, and his legs didn’t hurt at all.

[madi-writes-things]

Making The Bed (Johnie Guilbert X Reader)

Summary:

Pushing away all the people that know me the best…

Word Count: 1,415

TW: Passing Out, ED, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Self Deprecation, Self Destructive Thoughts and Actions, Avoiding Foods, Parties, Drinking, Johnnie Being a Supportive and Good Boyfriend, platonic!Jake Webber

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like three months. Sorry if it seems rushed or anything, I fell asleep halfway through writing it and finished when I woke up. 🫶

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I stand in the bathroom, obsessively typing the calories from the meal I just ate into the calorie counter that I promised I wouldn’t redownload. I didn’t mean for it to get like this again, but here I am. It just started as a few missed snacks, which turned into meals, and it all snowballed into daily weigh-ins and days with no food. I stop by the mirror for a moment, and I regret it immediately… the second I see myself, I feel my stomach churn.

The worst part of this is the lying to the people close to me… I don’t push them away on purpose, it just makes it easier. On days where I don’t see Johnnie much, I’m able to go the whole day without eating. I know that he’ll find out eventually, but I can’t let it be now.

In an ironic way I find it funny how people on the internet find out what you struggle with, and do their best to make it worse. The only reason that I started skipping snacks, was because people started commenting on my weight gain. It’s not the people who praise me for looking healthier, the issue is the people who spew my worst fears in the comments.

I know in the back of my head, that I will lose everything I’ve worked for if I don’t stay skinny. Johnnie won’t want me, Jake won’t chose me over him, Tara won’t want someone like me as a friend, my fans will get tired of me once I’m not interesting to look at, my family wo-

I hear Johnnie lightly knock on the bathroom door, pulling me from my doom spiral. “you okay in there babe?”

Shit.

I quickly wipe my face off, leaving no trace of the tears that were spilled. “Yeah! Be out in just a second.” Sometimes I wonder if he knows, and he’s happy that I’m losing weight. No. He’s not like that.

“”“”“”“”“”

I think Jake knows…

He stared me down after making me lunch. I think he was trying to see if I actually ate it. He made pasta, and I cried in the bathroom for thirty minutes after leaving the table. I saw him staring at me anytime we were in the same room after that.

Now I’m climbing into his car with Johnnie and Tara, headed to an influencer party. I’m wearing a cute Tank + Cropped Hoodie with skeleton hand’s bedazzled on the tits, and a pair of high waisted jeans. I knew that going out was a bad idea, but I have to stay under Jake’s radar… if he says anything to Johnnie, I’m done for.

I offer to be designated driver when we pull up, there’s no way I’m drinking tonight. One shot of vodka is nearly 100 calories, and vodka is the lowest calorie alcohol I’ve found. Everyone agrees pretty easily.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party has been going on for hours, and all of my friends were pretty tipsy at this point. I decided to go sit with Tara a little bit ago, and now we’re talking about her latest hookup. “He was literally so pretty… and his dick was huge!” She nearly falls over laughing at my reaction. I tell her I’m going to grab a water from the cooler, and find the guys so we can head out.

The second I stand up, everything goes blurry for a second. Shit. I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat since Jake made me, and that was like three days ago. I reach out and steady myself on Tara’s shoulder, as she asks if I’m okay. I mutter a quick yes, as I start walking away. It’s takes a second for my eyes to focus again, but most people just seem to assume I’m drunk.

Once I find the guys, we head out. My head is pounding, and all I want is to get home and go straight to bed. Once we finally get to our room, Johnnie holds me tight in his arms as we drift to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party was two days ago, and while I know I shouldn’t, I took advantage of everyone’s hangovers. I still haven’t eaten or drank anything other than water. Every morning I wake up lighter than the day before, and I’m not risking gaining any weight at this point.

Today is different, Jake and Johnnie are wide awake. The guys have been filming all morning, and they asked me if I wanted to join them in a video… I obviously agreed. I’ve missed my boyfriend, and I doubt he’d notice anything while we’re out at target.

“”“”“”“”“”

We stopped at three different targets before finding one that would let us film, totaling about an hour and a half of driving around. We’ve been walking around this target for a while, but the lights are too bright and I can’t seem to make my brain work hard enough to figure out how long.

I’m standing in the board game isle when it happens. I see Johnnie’s face fall when he sees me. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pa…” I don’t even hear the full sentence before everything turns to static.

“”“”“”“”“”

Johnnie’s POV

It all happens so fast. One second we’re laughing at something stupid, the next second Y/N has gone completely silent. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pale.” Then it happens. I watch as her eyes roll back into her skull.

Shit.

I barely move fast enough to stop her from hitting her head on the ground. “Jake! Go get some juice and a granola bar.” He practically drops the camera before breaking into a sprint across the store.

nononono… how long have I missed this? It all starts clicking into place… the long bathroom breaks after meals, the pulling away, the way she offered to not drink. Jake returns within 30 seconds, and Y/N starts to stir in my arms.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Everything feels like static… I think my eyes are open, but I still can’t see anything. I reach up, and my hand graces something, it takes me a second to register that it’s my loving boyfriend. I mutter a quick apology, and I hear him talking to someone but it’s so muffled. I don’t know how long I lay there before I start to regain feeling in my body. I can’t tell if I’m shaking, but I feel like I’m having a seizure or something.

once I’m able to sit up on my own Johnnie hands me a juice box and a granola bar. I can see Jake sitting across the aisle, also sipping a juice box. They wait until I’m done with my snack before talking. “Baby, I need you to be honest… when is the last time you ate?”

Shitshitshitshit. “I had lunch with Jake.” I try to sound confident, but my voice is shaky. I see Johnnie look across the aisle at Jake, questioning whether I was telling the truth.

“Y/N… that was almost a week ago.” He looks at me with a nearly indecipherable expression, but I know it well. Pity. “Is that really the last time you ate?”

Seeing how worried my they are breaks me. I only allow myself to break down because we are in a fairly secluded area of the store. Johnnie pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. We stay like that for a while before heading home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Months Later

That day was a massive wake up call. Johnnie let me take a nap when we got home, while I slept they assembled friends and family. When I woke up they held an intervention. They gave me the choice to Go to an inpatient treatment, or try to get better at home… I chose getting better at home, scared that nobody would wait for me.

That night we worked out a plan. Johnnie made me a meal plan full of foods that I felt safe eating, we threw out the bathroom scale, and we deleted the calorie counter. It wasn’t an overnight change, but I had amazing support from the people around me.

Johnnie is truly the man of my dreams. He never stops telling me how much he loves me, and reassuring me that he would never leave me. He is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I know that he will always be there.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos

[ohforficsake]

The Margay: Chapter 10

Read the Last Page

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Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC Audrey 'Moose' Goddard

Word Count: ~4.4K

WARNINGS: Triggers for themes of self harm/ suicidal ideation / fearing that someone will self-harm / Mentions of physical spousal abuse and escaping an abusive marriage. Please read with care.

Rating: Explicit 18+ / language / mentions of past drug use / Minors DNI

A/N: Frankie tries to put himself back together. Frankie tries to figure out why the fuck he's like this. Audrey realizes there is something she's afraid of.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

As always, this is un-beta'd, please do shoot me a message with any typos. Feel free to pop into my inbox if you'd like to chat. We've only got one chapter after this for these two. I hope I do them justice. Here goes nothing.

Francisco spends the next two weeks in hiding.

As much as Benny’s place can be considered hiding. 

Santiago is too close to the thing and Will would have tried to pull it apart, deliberately. Methodically. So he could come up with a way to make it right.

Frankie doesn’t want solutions right now, he just wants to feel like shit.

And Benny knows Catfish fucked up somehow, because the last time Frankie was here was when he got hit with the coke charge that suspended his license. 

He supposes Fish hiding at his place is better than Fish running through an eightball. 

But Frankie’s first night here is the worst night Benny’s had since then.

The night after Tom died included. 

It wasn’t all on him then. 

He couldn’t hear Frankie’s stuttering sobs in the next room then.

His stomach didn’t churn with the wails that Frankie tries to stifle with pillows when the walls of his heart can’t hold them in any longer then. 

But Benny soon learns that Frankie going silent is far worse. 

And so he hauls himself from bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand, and quietly makes his way across the hall to the guest bedroom, rapping two knuckles against the guest bedroom door.

“Fish?”

Still, silence. 

“Listen, you ain’t gotta tell me what’s up. Not if you don’t want to. I just. I just gotta know that you’re okay, buddy."

“I don’t have fucking coke if that’s what you’re asking.” Frankie’s voice is hoarse. Muffled where he’s face-down in a wet patch on the pillow.

And Benny already knows because Benny checked his bags while Catfish was in the shower and nabbed Frankie’s keys and pocket knife to tuck into his own bedside table. 

But still.

“I just need to know—” Benny starts. Thinks better of it. Decides he couldn’t live with any more regret. Continues softly. 

“—that you’re not going to hurt yourself, Fish.”

“It’s fuckin’ fine, Benny,” Fish’s voice is only muffled by the door now. 

Benny stares at the ceiling. 

“Okay,” he rolls off his tongue. “Can you do something for me though?” He bends to sit on the floor with his back against the doorframe. 

“The fuck is it Ben?”

“Can we just—do a few breaths?”

And Fish doesn’t say “no” because Fish doesn’t say anything.

“I’m gonna put my hands on my stomach,” Benny reframes, “and breathe in through my nose. All the way in until I move my hands.” There’s a pause as he does. “And I’m gonna let it out and do it again.”

He repeats this cycle. A bit less instruction each time, but following through himself. Palms rising and falling over the worn jersey of his t-shirt. 

He repeats the cycle. 

Of forcing Frankie to breathe. 

Of ticking his nervous system cool.

Until he hears a mumbled, “thanks, Benny,” from the other side of the door. 

“Listen man,” Benny starts softly.

“I love you, okay?”

“Love you too, man.”

And he feels a bit better. 

But Ben Miller still doesn’t sleep that first night.

Fish hangs around the house like a phantom for the next three days. Benny hears the creak of floorboards in the guest room. The latching of the bathroom door. The tv click through channels. 

Hears Netflix pause when it asks if Frankie’s still watching. 

He is. 

Baking shows from the sound of it. 

Benny tries the whole first day to offer him coffee and breakfast. Lunch and Pepsi, because maybe Coke would have been insensitive. Dinner and a beer. 

“‘M not hungry.”

“Frankie, you gotta at least drink some water.”

“Got some from the sink.”

So Benny takes to leaving snacks in the guest bathroom.

He breathes a little easier when some of them start to disappear. 

And he occasionally hears Frankie sniffling. And then hears deliberate breaths. 

He’s grateful to have given Frankie that at least. 

The poltergeist’s activity spreads on day five when Benny hears footsteps on the stairs.

And he has to fight a wince when finally the man appears. 

Frankie looks like a husk. 

Puffy eyes, hair matted down to his head. Overgrown, scraggly beard that's greying on sallow cheeks. 

And Benny just pulls two beers from the fridge, cracks them open on a magnet, and klinks the base of his against Frankie’s.

“Wanna watch the game?” 

“Sure,” Frankie mumbles.

And Benny breathes a little easier.

He clocks Frankie on the knee with his knuckles after about half an hour of silence, “hey, you eat today, man?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Go take a shower. Gonna order pizza. Sausage is good, right?”

“Not hungry.”

“I’ll get goat cheese on it.”

And Frankie sits for a beat.

“Fine.” 

He has a bit more color in his cheeks when he returns to the kitchen.

“Hey, you ever try meditation?” Benny asks after a bit through a mouthful of pizza. 

“No, I’ve never fucking tried meditation, Benny.”

“I can show you, if you want.”

“Not right now.”

“No,” Benny huffs through a bite of crust, “not right now. I’m gonna get you a journal too.”

And Frankie starts to protest, but he knows Benny is trying to offer him the tools that he himself uses to get him through.

There’s a Moleskin and a pen in the bathroom when Frankie ventures out in the morning. 

And like summer sun after the spring equinox, Frankie emerges from his cave earlier and earlier each day.

“You wanna talk about it?” Benny asks one night from where he’s slumped down on the couch, beer in hand, basketball game on tv. 

“Nah.” Fish answers from the other end of the couch, taking a swig from his own bottle.

“‘S about Moose?”

“Yeah,” Frankie works a fingernail between paper and glass, the tack of adhesive catching on his fingerprints.

“She get hurt out there?”

“No,” Frankie answers.

After a minute.

“I hurt her.”

“You cheat on her?”

“Wha–no. No. It’s not like that. I didn’t cheat on her.”

“Good, you’d…” And Benny chokes off his first reaction.

“’S fine, you can say it.”

“Nah.”

“I’d be a fuckin’ idiot. I already am. I’m aware,” Frankie scrubs a hand down his face. “I just. I said things I ain’t proud of.”

“So go fix it.”

And Frankie lets out an astonished huff at how simple the world is to Benny sometimes.

“You in a headspace for me to tell you somethin’?”

“Say what you gotta say, Benny.”

“Listen, Fish. You gotta just face it. And don’t just say 'I’m sorry' because girls hate that shit. Say what you’re sorry for and why you were a fuckin’ idiot for sayin’ it and that it’ll never happen again. And then don’t fuckin’ do it again. Not if you wanna keep her. Because that girl? She ain’t gonna put up with your shit.”

“She left.”

“She left because you probably pushed her away, Catfish.” Benny shifts on the couch to place his beer bottle on the coffee table, elbows resting on his knees before he finally looks over at Frankie.

“Look, I dunno what you said, but she’s got thick fuckin’ skin. Moose will take a lot of shit right on the chin and fling it back at you. So whatever it was, you gotta figure out why you said it. You gotta do that work on yourself, man. And don’t yank her chain, either. She ain’t gonna give you third and fourth chances.”

“You read that shit in a book somewhere, or you just got a lot of experience apologizing, Benny?”

“I do.”

Frankie scoffs.

And he wants to jump right up off of this couch, march up the stairs and slam the bedroom door behind him. But he knows what that would do to Benny. 

So he waits until the game is over.

Excuses himself with a “goodnight” and a “thanks for the beer.” 

He finally cracks open the journal Benny bought, and on the first page he scrawls:

Why the fuck am I like this?

The hardest part, Frankie thinks, is that his neural pathways are still wired to her presence. 

Any second she’ll step through the doorway.

Wild black curls and a soft smile. 

A matter of moments before she’ll press her soft weight to his back and her lips to that spot just behind his ear with a soft hum.

Lithe warm body to cover his own.

A pretty little thing to be used when the need strikes and then…

His own words ring in his ears. Crumble the fantasy into powder.

The dreams don’t help either.

The ones of that night in her apartment. 

The way things could have gone.

Her hands braced against the wide expanse of his chest as she chases the high that will make her forget.

Both of them move to fit around his neck.

And she comes with his full name on her lips.

And he follows her with sparks bursting in the black at the edges of his vision.

Little death has green eyes.

Little death that slips through his fingers each time he palms his cock in search of relief.

Frankie finds the strength to face Santiago once he’s back at his own place.

Strength or loneliness.

He’s not actually sure on that one. 

But he swipes a hand down his face after he shifts his truck into park in the driveway. He rubs it around to the back of his neck, fingers working at a knot there.

He's here.

Might as well.

Dinner passes without incident. Santi's fresh off the plane from Guatemala. And the hesitancy with which he discloses it tips Frankie off.

"How is she?"

Santiago angles hard dark eyes in his direction. And he wants to tell Frankie that she's distracted. That her gaze is constantly weighted with something that all of this dredged up. She's functional now but she's running on luck. Audrey can't afford to run on luck.

She's not well. But that's not Santiago's to confess.

“Frankie. What happened?” Comes out instead.

“I flipped.”

That’s all he needs to say for Pope to know how bad it is.

“What did you say, Francisco?”

“I…I was jealous seeing her there," he rubs at his lips with a finger. "With that man. And then I couldn't stop myself from thinking about everyone else. I said crude things.”

“We say crude things to each other all the time, that wasn’t it. What did you say, Frankie.”

“I talked about other men using her,” he swallows hard. “I…I called her a pretty little plaything to be used when the need strikes and then…”

“Discarded?” Santiago finishes, eyebrows in his hairline. 

“I didn’t," Frankie looks down at his lap. "Didn’t say that. Didn’t get that far.”

Santi runs his palm down his face and across his chin and springs from his seat. “Oh. Well then. What were you going to say? What did you intend to say when the first half of that sentence left your fuckin’ mouth. Huh? What was it, Francisco?”

“I wasn’t myself, Pope…I…”

“And you put your hands on her. Again you put your hands on her, Francisco.” And some dark part of Frankie’s brain thinks that where Pope took his side the first time, now he takes hers.

He should be taking hers.

“I saw the bruises.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, apologize to HER.”

Gestured broadly in the direction of Washington DC.

“I did. I did that night,” his voice is a low rasp, “but I…I was a mess.”

“What did you tell her? I’m sorry with big fuckin’ tears in your eyes?”

“Yeah.” And the big fuckin’ tears are back. 

“You told her she was disposable, Francisco. I don’t care if the word didn’t come out of your mouth. That’s what you said. A body. Because you were thinking with what, your dick? You told her she’s unwanted. Unloved, Francisco.” 

And something in the way he says it makes Frankie think that he knows more than he lets on.

“The crocodile tears? That shit’s not enough. How many times has she grounded you? Pulled you out of one of your fuckin’ moods without asking what put you there in the first place? How many smiles has she put on your face, huh? She brought the fuckin’ light back into your eyes, hermano. I see it when you’re with her. How many times has she made you fucking feel something again, Francisco?”

“She fuckin’ sees you. Every. Fucking. Part. Of you," Santiago stabs two fingers of one hand into the palm of the other with every word.

“And you know what?” He points at Frankie now.

“She loves you anyway.”

“She doesn’t love me.”

“You know she sent your daughter a birthday present from you because she knew that you were gonna forget? Yeah. Your daughter’s birthday was a week ago, Francisco.”

Santiago’s kitchen is spinning.

"I should go," Frankie starts, wincing at the way his chair scrapes across linoleum when he stands.

“But you told her she’s a thing that you wouldn’t keep.” And he definitely didn’t tell Pope that.

“I think we both know that’s a lie, Francisco. But only one of us is willing to admit it.”

“And you know what? You shouldn’t. You don’t fuckin’ deserve her.”

“And it’s your own fuckin’ fault. I can’t help you out of that one.”

But Santiago knows how hard he just bit.

And the part of him that loves Frankie.

This wrecked shell of a man.

The part of him that doesn’t want to get a call in the morning about an overdose tonight.

Now tries to lick wounds.

He wraps Frankie in a hug.

And Frankie hugs him back with closed fists, heaving sobs into Santiago’s shoulder.

“I love you, man,” Santiago murmurs. “I don’t wanna see you throw away one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. The best thing since your little girl.”

“I don’t know what to do. Without her.”

And Santiago’s viscera twist with the pain in Frankie’s voice.

“We’ll figure it out,” he moves back a fraction, hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Audrey tosses her keys, phone, and a stack of mail on her kitchen island, toeing off her sneakers as she piles her curls at the crown of her head and secures them with the tie on her wrist.

She washes her face and slips into the bedroom, tossing her clothes and bra onto the leather butterfly chair in the corner, swapping linen for the same tired t-shirt she's worn for the past two weeks.

It's one of Frankie's. Found at the bottom of a duffle that never got unpacked in the aftermath. Marled grey cotton that falls halfway down her thighs with a faded Corona Extra logo over her heart.

She idly pulls the collar up over her nose and holds it there as she sifts through the pile of mail.

An L.L. Bean catalogue.

An invitation to her cousin's baby shower.

A padded manila envelope.

From F. Morales.

She tears it open and pulls out a burgundy leather notebook with a yellow post-it stuck to the front.

I’m leaving this with you, because it feels fitting for you to have it. An exercise in remembrance. If you read nothing else. Please just read the last page.  x F

But Audrey’s brain.

The one that’s kept her alive after over 20 years on the razor’s edge of survival. 

Has already identified the worst possible contingency. 

And she frantically gropes for her phone with panic squeezing her chest.

Santiago answers not two seconds later.

“Yo,” he starts.

“Santiago, don’t say a single fucking word that's not an answer to what I ask you right now. Do you know where Francisco is?”

“Yeah, he’s sitting right across from me. All good.”

Fuck.

FUCK.

Her forehead falls into her palm as she heaves a sigh.

“Okay.”

But it comes out very wrong.

Cracked and choked. High-pitched on the last syllable.  

"Okay," she repeats as her legs begin to falter. "Thank you. Thanks, Santi."

And Santiago hears the tremor in her voice.

The raw fracture as she sinks to the floor. Back braced against the cabinets. 

Santiago gets up from the bar table, feeling Frankie’s eyes on him and steps out into a cloud of smoke on the patio.

“Hey, hey, hey, Aud. He’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“He sent—sent me this book and this note and FUCK."

She's hyperventilating now. Now that she's past immediate danger.

Now that the feeling catches up to her.

The fear.

“The…the way he worded this, it. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry for bothering…”

“Hey, Aud no no no. What did he send?”

“A notebook. A note that says I’m leaving this with you.”

“He’s not there, Aud. He’s okay. He’s okay, I promise. He’s not in that space. Benny and Will are here. We’ve got him.”

And he hears the sharp gasp of breath through her constricted throat. The staccato of her letting it out on a sob between beats of her racing heart where everything she’s tamped down rushes out of a crack in the earth.

“He’s clean. He’s not, in that headspace. Not near that point, Audrey,” Santi coos, his own throat tightening now. “He’s okay.” 

The Operative spoke first.

The Woman is speaking now. 

“How.”

And she means how do you know.

How the fuck can you be so sure. 

“We’ve,” Santi clears his throat, “we’ve been through this with Frankie before. Twice. He’s not there.”

“Santi.”

And the tremor in her voice hits him like the first time he saw his dad cry.

“Take care of him. Please. Please take care of him.” 

“Please.”

In the softest voice he's ever heard Audrey use.

And it’s the simplest plea delivered to him as though she were tendering her still-beating heart. 

“I will, Aud. You have my word, I will.”

Santiago hears her let out a broken sigh that’s muffled by a hand over her mouth.

“Thank you, Santi.”

“He’s gonna be okay, Aud.”

The line goes dead.

And Audrey weeps on her kitchen floor.

Until she’s wrung moisture from the marrow of her bones.

She reaches up to grab the little burgundy notebook, thumbing through to the last page.

A date range, a week and a half from today.

And an address in Jamaica.

An address that she knows.

A place where her future split off a new branch. The limb that she’s curled on now.

And she doesn’t know if she has it in her to go there again.

But not knowing what more to do, she flips to a random page.

Had a good day today. Made it down to the gym with Benny and Will. Think I smashed my hands up a bit, but it still felt good after. 

It's a journal.

And she idly realizes she's never really seen Frankie's handwriting before. Composed of tightly wound capitals in places that languidly flow together at the same time.

It suits him.

Another entry.

Saw an old Chevy for sale today and thought about buying it and fixing it up. Part of me wants to. But I don’t think I can right now.

And she flips all the way back to the very beginning. 

Why the fuck am I like this?

The journal spans the nearly three months that they've been apart.

Therapist asked me this afternoon if I’ve talked to her. Told him I haven’t tried and he asked why. I don’t think she’d want to talk to me. But he said that’s a decision I’m making for her. Guess that’s right. Asked what I’d say if she did pick up the phone. I don’t actually know. He said would you try to convince her to come back. And I don’t think I would. Not because I don’t want her back, I want that more than anything in the world. I want a future with her in it.  But I don’t think it’s right to try to convince her. 

He has “convince” underlined twice.

I want to be better. I need to be better first. What’s that shit they say about if your flower bed sucks. You don’t fix the flowers, you fix the soil. You make it a good place for them. I’m not a good place for her right now. But I want to be. I already fucked one good thing up because I wasn’t. I can’t just keep doing the same shit. Not just for her, for Luci to. She deserves a good dad. Audrey deserves a good man. Trying to convince her wouldn’t actually change anything. I guess that’s good to remind myself of.

Chevy’s still there. Talked to the owner, said he’d knock $500 off it for a vet. I’d still give him full asking. Still don’t know if I’m ready. But I hope I’m getting there.

Been thinking about mom and dad a lot lately. That last fight they had before the divorce. How mom just looked so defeated. How she looked at us with so much love. Even after what dad did. Even though her whole world was breaking. Even though we’re half him. How she just told us to get our favorite toy and tucked us into the back of her car with our blankets and never looked back. I remember holding Mr. Bear so tight that night.  I don’t remember ever seeing the bruises. But they had to have been there.  I think I’m dad. The last thing I wanna be is dad. 

Audrey stands briefly, fingers closing around the nearest bottle of wine and the stem of a glass before she returns to the floor and Frankie's notebook.

I keep thinking about that question, what would I say if she picked up the phone. All I can come up with is I’m sorry and I love you. It doesn’t feel like it’s enough. 

Had a dream about Aud last night. We were sitting on a patio watching a storm roll in. It was like I could feel her right there. Today was hard.

She flattens her hand to her heart at that one.

Lucia said today she wants a puppy for Christmas. Her mom definitely doesn’t want a dog in the house. I think a cat’s better since she’s still so young. Tried floating that idea, didn’t fly. Wish I lived closer so she could have a cat at dad’s house. I’d worry about being away so often. Probably on Davis’ shit list right now though so maybe that doesn’t matter. Hadn’t thought about that until now. The last two years doing this set us up pretty well. College and a car for Luci aren’t an issue anymore. Haven’t felt that weight off until now. Feels kind of hollow.

Bought the Chevy. And Santi thinks he’s making progress. Maybe things are starting to look up. Still scares the shit out of me though. Dunno what I’m in for. 

I used to wipe the tears from Mamá's cheeks when she tucked me into bed. What the fuck am I now. This isn’t who I am. It’s who I was taught to be. It’s what I was shown. It’s wrong.  It isn’t love. It’s fear.

Talked to the therapist about dad today. About how I think he always resented me for being more like mom. For not liking the things he did. How he would yell at me for being soft. And useless. I still remember that. Dug that in every time he could. He hated when I cried. Hated that I would spend hours playing with Mr. Bear. Hated that I liked to read. I think some part of me still believes him. That I'm not enough. That I never will be. I'll never be anything. And I fear it sometimes. Why would she want a useless fuck-up like me.

"You're not," Audrey whispers, running her fingers over the page like somehow it will carry her message to him.

I think he was afraid of irrelevance, at the end of the day. I wasn’t interested in anything he knew. Anything he could teach me. Think it made him lash out. And Mamá still got the divorce. Made him fuckin irrelevant anyway.  I think he got one fuckin awful lesson in that I never asked for. Love isn’t lashing out. It isn’t screaming or yelling. It isn’t won with a fist. But I think it fucked me up, seeing only that. I think I learned that from him. I look like him. But I’m not him.

Tears slip down her cheeks as she presses on.

Leaving for Oklahoma tomorrow. Santi’s coming with. Says we’ll have some fun while we’re out there. Part of me is looking forward to it. The other part of me doesn’t know if I’m ready. It’ll either move me forward or set me back. No way of knowing but to try. Because I can't stay here. I can't live like this.

The entries go silent for a week.

Just got back. Needed that time away. Think it helped clear the doubt. Feel better than I have in weeks. It was the right choice. Oklahoma is pretty in the summer. 

And a zing of jealousy for whatever is in Oklahoma shoots through her. 

As if she doesn’t have something of her own there. As if that’s not the first place she ran to. 

I wonder if I should give this to her. If it might be able to say everything that I can’t seem to. Because I know in the moment, if ever there is one, I’m gonna fuck up. I’m gonna look into her eyes and forget everything I want to say. “I’m sorry, I love you” is all I’m gonna have. And it isn’t enough. 

“I love you too, Frankie.” She whispers into her kitchen.

She thumbs the long tails of his “y”s. Lazy “r”s that always bleed into the next letter. 

But it’s the notion that his hands touched these pages. 

Formed these words.

Shed salt upon ink in places.

The way she holds some essence of him in her hands.

The way all she wants is to hold him again.

It’s two hours and three quarters of the bottle of wine gone when she makes her way through, again flipping to the last page. 

Her knees crack as she stands, grabbing her packet of Parliaments and lighting one off a gas burner. Three long draws before she sits back on the floor between her wine and Frankie's journal.

Fingertips reach for the glass of her phone as she opens her messages and taps on the “FM” bubble right at the top of the page.

I’ll be there.

Read 1:36 am.

Three dots appear on the screen.

I can’t wait to see you, Aud. I miss you.

And she doesn’t respond right away.

She can’t see through the tears.

I miss you too, Frankie. 

I miss you so much.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas @spookyxsam

@bloviating-vy

And tagging some of the lovely folks who keep me going on here. As always, please do let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged:

@tinytinymenace @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @theshensei @iamskyereads

@la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @soft-persephone @julesonrecord @criticalarchitecture @oliveksmoked

@jessthebaker @tanzthompson @youandmeand5bucks @ems-chaos-corner @thethirstwivesclub

@76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @jeewrites

Please note that old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

@magical-awesome-kid this has been stuck bouncing around my head since you commented. Rude as hell cause it's 12:50 am and I need to be asleep. Anyway, here this is.

As Gorgug wakes up he tries to remember when he went to sleep. The last thing he saw were his friends and family sitting around him, they were all smiling but they had tears in their eyes. His mom and dad both held his hand. He is lying on the ground, on what feels like moss. After a minute his eyes adjust better and he sees a familiar twilight glow and a goddess reaching a hand down to him. She smiles at him softly, and he takes her hand in his. Another goddess stands behind her, this one glows more brightly. He gives a nod to her, and they walk together for a minute. Cassandra brings him to a clearing that reminds him of the Nightmare Forest he was in during his sophomore year. That had to be 60ish years ago, but the clearing looked the same, with moonlight shining down on him. He thinks a small “Thank you” as he feels the goddesses leave him to sit for a while. 

Riz wakes up, more energized than he has been since he was 9 years old. He is laying on… moss? He opens his eyes and sees a familiar forest. A small smile forms on his face when he sees a twilight hand reaching down to him. Then a frown. He signs to Cassandra, his hearing long gone. “But, my mom and dad.” Cassandra nods. He feels a sense of calm washing over him, and takes the hand reached out to him. He follows them, still worried about seeing his parents again. Then he sees Gorgug. He runs for the first time in a long time and jumps into a hug. Twilight surrounds them, and they are calm and together again. He gets a call on his watch. His mom and dad, and he gets to go help them, but he always comes back, his home is here. 

Kristen never went to sleep, she was praying and she opens her eyes to her goddesses once more. Ankarna reaches her hand down to raise Kristen from her feet. “It is done, you can rest now.” Kristen nods, she knew it was coming, and she wasn’t the first to die. Twilight and dawn envelope her in a hug as she floats through the forest with them. She comes to the same clearing, and Riz and Gorgug are waiting. Riz signs to her “Good to see you. I missed you.” She just hugs him and cries a little bit. Gorgug hugs her next. “You look better,” He tells her, and she feels it. Gravity doesn’t weigh her down as much as it did and the dull ache in her knees she was so used to was gone.

Fabian dies with Adaine and Aelwyn at his side, the Hangman curled in dog form in his lap. The warmth always felt nice when his bones hurt a little bit. He notices he is warm all over now, and he opens his eyes to see a body made of Dawn standing in front of him and offering a hand. He shakes his head, “I didn’t expect to be here.” She shrugs, and offers him a warmth he hasn’t had since Cathilda passed away. He nods and takes her hand, walking with her to the same clearing. He sees Gorgug and runs to him, he hasn’t seen him in 105 years, but he looks the same as he remembers. The Ball jumps on his back and they have a group hug. Then he sees Kristen, and he tells her “Thank you.” 

Fig visits when she can, plane shifting when she can get away from work. She passed away, but she’s still an archdevil. The first time she visits she gives a huge group hug. She tells Gorgug “I just can’t find a drummer good enough to replace you!” He gives a goofy smile. She signs to Riz “I never got rid of your corkboards in hell. Can you still help me with legal junk? I’m no good at it.” He laughs and tells her “Yes, I can. I work with my mom and dad now too!” She tells Fabian “The Hangman is doing better now, he’s more used to being in Hell again and he’s a great companion.” He says “Thank you for taking care of him. I know he didn’t want to go.” She smiles at Kristen and tells her “I missed my president.” 

Adaine passes away during a quest as the Oracle, she went off to help Aguefort with something and just wasn’t able to make it. She wakes up on the same moss patch everyone else did, with Kristen offering her hand. She takes it and gets up but then pulls her into a huge hug, tears running down her face. “Oh how I missed you!” Kristen has tears in her eyes as she said “It was hard to be here without my sister.” They walk to the clearing, and Riz tackle hugs her. She just laughs as they all walk up and hug her, ignoring that the others are already there. Gorgug offers her a flower, and she takes it, putting it in her pocket. Riz starts talking to her about a case he just can’t crack. She asks to see his corkboard and they start talking about it. Fabian sits behind them talking to Gorgug about bloodrush strategies he used as coach. Kristen and Fig sit together listening to and watching them all. Kristen rests her head on Fig’s shoulder, and their goddesses float above them, happy that the Bad Kids are together once again.

[starsignchaser]

@jegulus-microfic | June 2nd | Night | Word count: 719

Walburga Black died on a quiet night in August.

Her sons found out two days later. Almost by chance, as her obituary was barely three lines in total.

Walburga Black died peacefully in her sleep Tuesday evening. The last remaining member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Madame Black leaves behind an illustrious legacy. Services will be held in private.

“‘Last remaining member’, where does she get off? Even in death, she strives to spite us.” Sirius scoffed and threw his copy of the Prophet to the table. Still, even with the disgust clear in his voice, his hand gripped tightly to Regulus’ shoulder. 

The younger of the two stayed silent but his hands clenched tightly into fists under the table. Desperately trying to hold onto his anger, even as tears came to his eyes, Regulus took a deep breath. 

Suddenly pushing up from the table, he mentioned needing some air and stepped into the back garden. The early morning sun beat down on him and he walked farther out to reach some reprieve under a looming oak tree. Pressing his back against the rough bark, he tilted his head up to catalog the light filtering through the branches. 

Grasping again at his anger, he turned his frustration to the sun itself. What right did it have to shine so brightly while Regulus felt like this? Why is the earth at its most beautiful while all he wants is to curl into the darkness? Why can the birds keep chirping and bees keep buzzing when he can barely feel the air in his lungs? Why can’t he feel the air in his lungs? Why-?

“Regulus?” James’ deep voice cut through the static that had taken over his brain, forcing him to take a deep breath and finally let the oxygen return to his head.

However, as soon as his head was cleared, he realized that the anger he so desperately had tried to hold onto wasn’t anger at all. It was pain. It was searing, overwhelming, grief. An agony he had been blessed to never feel before, surging through his veins as he realized that his mother was gone. 

Dropping to his knees, his breath left him just as quickly as it had returned and tears began to stream from his eyes. 

“James-” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t- I can’t- Why does it hurt so much?” It felt like his heart was breaking, literally ripping itself apart in his chest. The pain shot through his entire body, making him want to rip his skin off, to reach inside and pull the pain out with his own hands. 

“Breathe with me love, come on, focus on my breath.” James was crouched in front of him now, pulling Regulus’ hand to his chest so he could feel it lift with each breath. “That’s right love, keep breathing, you can do this.”

“I can’t, James I can’t,” he was sobbing now, the truth of the situation a constant loop in his head. 

His mother was gone. The person who brought him into this world, had died. The first one on this earth to ever hold him, to ever press a kiss to his forehead, to ever love him, was gone. But in the same breath, his tormentor, his bully, his abuser, was gone. He was free, wasn’t he? Why didn’t he feel like it?

“Why does it hurt, Jamie? I don’t want to miss her James. I don’t want to feel like this, please, I don’t want this! I want this to stop, it hurts so much, I don’t want to hurt, I thought she couldn’t hurt me anymore, please-” he babbled as he gripped tightly to the front of his boyfriends shirt.

“Shh, my love. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, I know. It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay. You’re safe, Sirius is safe, she can’t hurt you anymore.” James pulled him into his chest, holding him close as if he could squeeze the grief out through sheer will. 

Regulus continued sobbing, James not letting go for even a second. 

Tomorrow would be better. Each day forward would be easier. But for today, a young boy sat in the agony of the most complicated grief one could feel.

[moon-draws-art]

Ooh boy this took way longer than I intended it to-

Anyways I had fun messing around with the lighting and background and I’m pretty proud of this :) It also let me explore creating a design for Siren Nightmare so be ready for some more of him in the future!

Prompt 4 - Tides

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

[whentherewerebicycles]

I want my mom 😭

[trippin-chippin]

Another semi-realistic person it

I literally have no clue who this is, I just drew wha came to my mind (I’m half awake rn🥴)

[moominpopzz]

not that I don’t love my body and all but if I don’t get my uterus out right now I might go catatonic

[baconcolacan]

gamers I speedran hades today, tartarus to surface baby are you proud??

[ookaookaooka]

least favorite thing about getting older so far is that there is 1 sleep position that is comfortable for the whole night and even that has approximately a 30% chance of giving me neck and/or back pain the next day