#storing all the trauma in his ears

[wombywoo]

MRE 🩸

[willownwisp]

nice legs, daisy dukes.

i. nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go woo woo. (vendetta!leon x fem reader) author's note: like every responsible writer, this is not proofread because i run on my delusions and being thick faced. i write and call it a day. first entry of my valentine's advent, yayyyy! i tried to overcome my intense fear of dialogues because i know i suck at it omg please tell me if i did well, likes are vv appreciated! cw: nsfw. r18, MDNI PLS. fingering in public.

Leon feels like a creep, scratch that. He definitely looks like a creep. He probably looks like a thirty-six year old man waiting for a hot coed, because he is. He pulls out his phone to relieve himself of the slight shame, sends a dry text because he doesn't understand the purpose of an emoji. Never did. In his day, texts used to be enough and it was hot that you could send a coherent text with those small ass phones and even smaller keypad.

He leans against his Ducati looking like a fucking dick with an elaborately decorated box of pastries in hand. You've been eyeing the newly opened pâtisserie from across the street. He can be sweet when he wants to be, because he knows you're obsessed with those "instagrammable" treats. It gets him good boyfriend points because you matter, you're his sweet little bunny. The sweetest.

You're sweet when he sees you from the flood of students exiting the campus gates in your pink mini dress and a matching cardigan, a flood of warmth washes him, in his mind there are compartments. Store the trauma in another space deep inside his brain, and the other space a section of just you, he tucks away the image of you in this mini dress.

It's definitely going in his favorite outfits you wore.

You're sweet when you visibly perk up at the sight of him in all his 5'11 glory, beaming at him as you literally run towards where he stood. God you're just adorable.

"Lovey!"

Your sweet voice cuts through the idle murmur as you stand before him, and Leon looks at you with that soft gaze. You look like a bunny. A giddy one. The ribbons you wore on your hair come to view now that you're near, and the sight of your shapely thighs put him in a spell.

"Bunny, are you surprised?"

He replies with a smug smile.

"Uh-huh!"

You nod with a soft giggle, a faint blush dusting on your cheeks.

"We don't usually have lunch together…"

You add, the smile on your face is practically inextinguishable as you squirm. You're so fucking cute. He thinks before he brings up the box of pastries, presenting it to you like a cat gifting his owner a small trinket. You squeal before throwing your arms around him in a hug.

"Lovey! How did you know I wanted these?"

You ask and he chuckles, of course Leon would know. Who wouldn't when your social media is full of your ravings about the place, but he plays it off cool.

"I just did, bunny. Boyfriend senses and all."

That reply earns him a giggle from you and he's whipped. Your dainty hands grabbing the box as you mouth a small 'thank you' and his arms wrap around your waist. Lifting you up like nothing as he seats you atop his Ducati, like the pretty princess that you are.

"Where are we going, lovey?"

You ask, but the words fall on deaf ears for as soon as Leon had lifted you up in his hands, he's already thinking of ways to feel you, properly. The way your mini dress hikes up your thighs as he looks down to peek at your legs, he hums an acknowledgment to your question, his hands snaking from your waist to your thighs just where your mini dress ends. His thumbs rub lazy circles on your skin , before he lifts his head up to give you a cheeky grin.

"Anywhere bunny. Let's get out of here, yeah?" You nod obediently and he pulls away, giving your head a soft pat as you tell him off to not mess up your hairstyle and he rolls his eyes, takes the time to put your helmet on because he's a gentleman. "Hold on tight bunny." He'd say as you hug him from behind, the whole bike ride was silent as he speeds through traffic, only for the both of you to end up in a deserted park, right at a secluded spot just hidden behind trees and park picnic tables. Leon gets off first, taking off his helmet before turning his attention on you. He takes off yours only to be greeted by your confused face. "Are we having a picnic, lovey?" You ask, and he only gives you a smile before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. "If that's what my bunny wants." There's a teasing lilt on his voice as his hands wander up to your thighs, his calloused palms rubbing up and down, and you get an inkling that it was not picnic time. "Lovey, don't do that… we're in public…"   You tell him off shyly but he only quirks an eyebrow. "It doesn't really matter when we're all alone, yeah?" His voice is husky as he bring his left hand to grip your cheeks gently, his thumb moving to trace the outline of your lips. "We'll be fine bunny." He assures you as the hand that rubs down your thigh inch higher, and higher until the pad of his fingers kisses your clothed pussy.

"I've always taken care of you haven't I?"

You respond with a whine, it's hard to resist when he gets like this. All over you, hands, and close as he possibly can.

"Lovey…"

You call out to him one more time, teetering on the edge of a protest or a plea for him to go on. Leon bits his lips as he rubs your clit slowly, stimulating you before he rains chaste kisses on your face. A kiss on your forehead, a kiss on your cheek, on your cute nose, and a peck on your lips, because you're his baby. He treats you like a ceramic décor, because your precious and fragile.

"Use your words, bunny."

He responds as he slowly feels your cotton panties dampen underneath his fingers, your clit swollen with need and he feels you heating up.

"Lovey, I'm wet…"

You whine again as you squirm beneath him, your grip on the handle of the box tightens up as your free hand claws the leather seat.

"Want me to help you, bunny?"

He coos as he uses his index fingers to tease your clothed pussy, rubbing it up and down the slit as your insides flutter.

"Uh-huh, please lovey."

A satisfied grin eases on his face before he eases his fingers off of which earns him a sad whimper from you and confused look before he shakes his head.

"Suck."

He orders, bringing in his digits to your mouth which you happily oblige to. He grunts as you wet his fingers with an experimental lick, you could taste yourself from his fingertips before your mouth covers his index and middle finger, sucking on it like a lollipop.

The sight sending electricity straight down to Leon's dick as he pulls his fingers out, giving your lips a short kiss ass your reward before his fingers find their way on your inner thighs again, tugging your panties to the side as your pussy kisses his wet fingers.

Leon being the tease that he is, traces your slit, up and down while his thumb presses on your clit as you instinctively spread your legs more to give him room.

"Lovey, don't tease!"

You whine in his ear once more and he chuckles. Two of his thick fingers plunge down your pussy with an embarrassing squelch as you gasp and Leon chuckles.

"She's speaking to me bunny."

He hums happily as his free hand move from your face to your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread as it should as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

"Lovey…"

You moan, your one eye closes as you watch his hands move, looking down at his busy hands as your slippery pussy gives him enough leverage to slide in and out easily, while his thumb rub on your swollen nub.

"Yeah, bunny? You like that? Can fill you up right, yeah?"

He speaks to you, but you're too dazed to respond as your walls clench around him and he groans. Tipping his head forward to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as you make an "mph" sound as your lips crashes with his. You tilt your head to allow him to deepen the kiss as he slips his tongue inside, tasting your sweet mouth.

 "Ah—ah—" You moan as you part, his fingers not letting up. "You like this?" He whispers in your ear, his husky voice making your toes curl.  "Getting you off after school with my fingers?"  

"Ahh!" You moaned, shoving your hips against his pumping fingers. While his other hand skillfully unbuttons your cardigan's sole closed button before tugging your dress and bra together to reveal your breasts, before proceeding to licking on your nipple. "You're loving this, aren't you?" He rasps, spreading his fingers and pressing his thumb harder on her clit. "Being talked to like this? It gets you off even more, doesn't it, bunny?" He teases you before proceeding to hunch over to suck on your nipples, with his fingers just knuckle deep inside your pussy as your legs lock around his waist, the heels on your sandals digging on his back but he couldn't care less. Your sweet, sweet sounds as he gets you off, your luscious legs around him. God, he could cum from that alone. "Come on, bunny. Talk to your lovey." He teases again, a shit-eating grin on his face as he curls his fingers on that one sweet spot as you throw your head back and your walls clench his fingers in a vice grip. "Fuck, bunny. Can feel you squeezing tight. You're close, bunny?"

He asks but you only respond with a breathless moan as you tremble. He scissors his fingers inside you, alternating between spreading your pussy and curling his fingers and it drives you crazy. He leaves a bite mark around your nipples before he straightens his back to look at your disheveled form. Smirking at the fact that your cardi has slipped off your shoulders and your breasts heaving with your mini dress hiked to your waist.

Looking proud of himself, he captures your lips in a deep kiss as his fingers pump harder, you could hear the salacious squelching at how wet your pussy is.

"Come on bunny, cum for me. Show how much your lovey makes you feel good."

He grunts as his hands grip your cheeks, forehead resting on yours as you tighten up and your body tenses before cumming around his deft fingers with your lips parted in a silent scream.

He slowly halts his fingers, smirking as he brings it to his lips to taste you while you gather yourself. Panting and looking dazed at your older boyfriend who now laps at his fingers coated in your essence like a cat as he groans.

"Did I make you feel good, bunny?"

You nod weakly as your head rests on his chest. He only chuckles. He fixes you up. Tugging down your mini dress and fixing your upper half, buttoning up your cardi again.

"Wanna get lunch now, bunny?"

You look up at him as you slowly gather enough coherence to find that somehow in the middle of your indecency with Leon, the box of pastries had slipped from your fingers and is now a mess on the grass, decorating it with fresh fruit and whipped cream as your face falls and you look up at Leon who now sports a look of… guilt? On his face.

"Leon. Kennedy."

Your voice is dangerously low as you narrow your eyes at him.

"This is your fault!"

You exclaim with a pout as you tug on his leather jacket.

"I was looking forward to eating those! What a waste of food and money! Oh god, I feel so bad!"

Leon soothes you as he smoothens your hair with his hands and he kisses your forehead.

The good thing about being thirty-six and with a shit ton of disposable income is that he can buy you all that you want, it's what he intends to for his sweet, sweet bunny.

[the-fiction-witch]

Secret

Media The Artful Dodger (Pre Show Release)

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Cute

Warnings - Sexual Trauma / Rape/ 1800's Abortion

I was beyond fearful.

A thousand thoughts flew through my mind.

I worried about what my fate would be.

What would happen to me?

What little I could even do?

All with the knowledge, that this was a ticking time bomb. And the longer I lingered, the less time I would have.

This secret would not stay a secret forever, and every moment I waited jeopardised the potential of my secret being revealed. And if it were, there would be problems, to say the least.

So I had no alternative, I had to do something about it.

I dressed for the day in my boots, hosiery, bloomers, petticoats, frock, jacket, hat and parasol and headed down the stairwell to the front door.

"Where do you think you're off to?" My father spoke up as he arrived from his study, a glass of whiskey in hand.

His brother, my uncle beside him with his own and a cigar between his lips.

"Just off to the market," I lied as I tried to stare at the door and not glimpse at them both.

"I'll Accompany you," My uncle proposed with a smirk.

"No." I snapped, "No thank you, I think I would like the walk alone,"

"Alright, Be back before dark." My father demanded before he headed back to his study, I grabbed my gloves from beside the door and slipped them on in a rush to get out when my uncle came close, he rested his brown oxford shoe between my legs, pressed himself tightly to my body and came so close I could smell his whiskey, his cigar and the horrid scent of sour apples.

"Don't be late darling," He whispered in my ear

I didn't answer him so he just skulked off back to the study with my father, I squandered no time and scurried from the house I made sure to be seen at the market but I didn't make a single purchase I just wilted around and spoke to a few to make sure I would have been seen if anyone asked about me.

Once that was done, I made my way to the familiar house often frequented by those like me in circumstances with little hope, often as a last resort. The house was stunning; it couldn't be disavowed, the house itself was small, only really existing on the upper floors, with the bottom the office, storerooms, prep spaces and all other things required for the profession of he who lived in the house.

I made sure to journey there discreetly not wanting my presence to be witnessed as I rang the bell and lingered, each second felt like hours until ultimately the door was yanked open.

There he stood in black shoes sludgy from their wear, a pair of black trousers well pressed and fitted to his thin body, a faint thin white shirt with his sleeves wadded up to his elbows, a green fabric tie loosely knotted around his neck, a pair of cream and black suspenders over his shoulders, a blue well-worn waistcoat, his hair in its typical fluffy way mostly thrown to one side, His brown eyes looked wide as he opened the door unsure who to be expecting behind it but his lip upturned into a small smile.

"Ohh, Hello Miss Y/l/n this is a nice surprise," He smiled.

"Hello Doctor, Could I come in?"

"Yes of course" he smiled happily let me in and closed the door behind me "To what do I owe the pleasure then?" he asked.

"May we speak... privately?"

"Ohh course, come into the office nice and private in there," he ushered me through to his small office just off the operating room and down from a small store room. He got a cushy chair for me and moved it by the fire with another "There we are, Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Doctor," I answered as I took a seat nervously and uncontrollably picked at my nail beds,

"Just Jack you've known me long enough," he chuckled, as he took his chair across from me "Are you alright?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're picking at your cuticles, you haven't made eye contact with me since I opened the door and you look... like you're about to either smack me or start crying." He said, "So? What's going on?"

"Well" I began, as I battled back my tears. "I'm sorry this isn't easy..."

"What's wrong y/n?" He asked, as he tilted forward to gently take my hand in his own.

"I had to come to visit you today, I wish it was under more pleasing circumstances," I explained, tears uncontrollably flooding down my face. "I'm so sorry Jack but I must ask you to keep a secret,"

"Of course,"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious. This must be a secret," I explained.

"Y/n, I promise no matter what you tell me it's a secret, just between us," he said, as he lifted from his chair and fetched me some tissues from his desk before he returned to his seat.

"You promise?"

"I promise. Not a Word of it will pass my lips, not a sound of it will leave this room, I swear I won't tell a soul,"

"I need your help, Jack."

"With what?"

"... I know you, haven't always walked on the Side of lawfulness,"

"hey!" He pouted "My thievery has been very occasional," he corrects playfully.

"I hate to ask, I know it would be a risk for you to do such a thing for me,"

"Well... what is it?"

"I- I'm sorry." I began as I choked up with tears again.

"It's alright, whatever assistance you need I'll be here for you. you just have to tell me what it is,"

My blood ran cold, my words stunted but I knew the time was ticking and I couldn't let these words linger behind my teeth.

"Jack, I'm pregnant."

He froze up, his hand on mine went clammy, and the colour drained from his face for a moment. He moved back to press himself into his chair, he ran a hand through his hair and down his face rubbing on his jaw before he spoke.

"...Okay." He nodded, as he brought his hands together and broke the silence that lingered between us and the fire. "Why would you need my help if you're pregnant?" He asked.

"Why else?" I told him.

"It's not my area of expertise. You should see the midwife-",

"No!" I snapped, "She's a chatterbox you know that. That girl couldn't keep a secret If I stitched her mouth shut,"

"Good point," he chuckled.

"Even so, she wouldn't endorse what I'm doing,"

"Understandable,"

"I don't trust anyone sufficiently with this. Anyone but you Jack,"

"Thanks, I guess," He smiled, "What do you intend to do?"

"I don't have a choice. no one can know, my father will find out and he'll send me away, if not worse. He'll call me a whore and ship me off or worse," I explained, "If anyone in town found out they'd lock me away," I explained "Jack... I can't be pregnant. I need to not be pregnant."

"Okay," he nodded, "This is illegal you know that right?"

"I do. But I don't have a choice."

"if anyone ever found out, we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

"I know," I nodded. "I understand if you can't Jack. I understand if you can't stake your-",

"I'll do it."

"You will?"

"If it's what you want." He nods.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"I want to." he reassured, "I can't endure to see you like this, Can I ask something?"

"Alright,"

"Who's the father?"

That question froze me to my core. "Why do you ask?"

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"No. No, I can't."

"Does he know you're pregnant?"

"No."

"Do you think it's possible... Just hear me out! maybe if you told him? you think he'd marry you?"

"He might. but I don't want that."

"Why not? you liked him enough to let him-" He began, but all I could do was look at him. "You did let him, didn't you?" he asked and I shook my head as I fought back my tears, he ran his hand over his face "I'm sorry I shouldn't-",

"It's okay," I nodded.

"Come here y/n," He offered.

I got up from the chair and stepped over to his own, he happily took my hand removed my gloves gave my skin a soft kiss and tugged me gently into his lap so I could sit over him my head against his chest as he ran his fingers gently across my frock, his other hand ran his fingers over me removed my hat and gently ran through my hair, every so often he kissed the top of my head.

"I'm so sorry y/n." He whispered, "You don't need to worry, I promise not a soul will know, we'll sort this out as soon as possible," he explained.

"Thank you, Jack."

"It's okay" he cooed, "How long has this been happening?"

"A while now,"

"Okay," he nodded. "Before you go through with this, will you listen to what I have to say?"

"Of course Jack,"

"I know it must all seem frightening now, and like you need to hurry knowing every day this is developing inside you, and I'm sure it must hurt you to even think about this child given its conception and the peril it now poses to you," he explained, "But... we would have to keep this secret until the end of our days, not a soul could ever know if anyone did find out we'd be fortunate to be locked up. Even so, this... procedure isn't straightforward, it carries a grave risk not only of failure, of pain, but of threat to you. If something goes awry, it could kill you," he explained.

"I know that."

"You can't expect me to be alright with conceivably killing you,"

"Isn't that the risk every one of your patients accepts when they decide to lay on the operating table?"

"Well yes but-",

"But what Jack?"

"But... that's not a fate I want for you." he said, "Is there... anyway I can talk you out of this?"

"No,"

"There's no way that deep down he might be an agreeable gentleman?"

"Unquestionably not,"

"Okay, is there any way you could go someplace?"

"I can't,"

"Any suitor boys you could sharply marry before you show?"

"None to mention no,"

"Is there any chance you're going to regret this? And want to keep your baby? Because once I do this that's it. Babies gone forever."

"I'm certain Jack."

"What if..." he began "I married you?"

My heart stopped beating a moment as a panic rushed over me unsure I heard him correctly.

"If you what?"

"What if, I married you?" He asked, "I'm a surgeon so your father would be happy to wed me his daughter, I have a house with plenty of space and not a soul to share it with, I have a decent income so you'd only need to be a housewife, you wouldn't even have to clean the theatre if you didn't want to." He explained, "I feel you and I get along better than I do with most other ladies, in fact, I feel I get along best with you above everyone else in the world. I am happy to keep your secret, you and I can go to your father in a few days. I can ask for your hand and by the end of the month we can be married. Long before you start to show, you can grow the baby to term and I'll be there to hold your hand when the baby comes, and I'll welcome our little one as if they were my own. The world outside these walls and the baby needs never to know any different."

"Jack, you'd truly do that for me?'

"Of course I would,"

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to" he smiled, kissing my head. "I'd adore to have you as my wife,"

"That's so lovely Jack," I smiled, sitting up a little. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair for you to squander your life marrying me just because of this,"

"Y/n, I wouldn't ask if it was just because of this. Honestly... I've been considering it for some time now just never really got the opportunity to ask you."

"You mean it?"

"I do,"

"I... I can't - I'm sorry Jack." I said, "I'd love to marry you, I really would but I want this procedure, it has to be done,"

"Okay," he nodded "If that's what you want," he said, "After the procedure would you still want to marry me?"

"I would," I blushed "If that is you'd be happy to marry a-"

"Don't you even say that," he warns, "Don't you dare. You're not broken. You're not damaged. You're not some glass bottle y/n you're a woman. I don't care what's happened to you. If you're happy to marry me then I'd be happy to marry you too."

"Really?"

"Really." He nods, "So how about tomorrow morning I come over and speak to your father, ask him for your hand, we can be married by the end of the week and we can go through the procedure then, and I'll take my new wife up to bed once it's over and take care of you until your all better."

"That sounds perfect,"

"And maybe once you're all better we could... start on a little one of our own? Once you're comfortable of course,"

"I'd like that very much, Jack." I smiled and I nuzzled into his chest.

"Perfect. Then it's decided." he smiled and wrapped his arms around me tightly to pull me close into a cuddle "I'll see him first thing tomorrow morning, and as soon as he'll let me I'll make you Mrs y/n Dawkins,"

"Sounds pretty,"

"It suits you" he cooed, kissing my forehead. "So? Will you marry me, sweetheart?"

"I will Jack," I blushed.

"May I kiss my bride-to-be?" he whispered against my hair intertwining his fingers with my own.

"You normally have to wait for the wedding day for that,"

"I'm impatient," he shrugs playfully.

"Well... I suppose," I smiled, sitting up a little and resting my chin on his shirt.

He smiled squeezing my hand so I squeezed back his other hand came and stroked the back of the knuckle of his index finger across the length of my cheekbone ending with a playful bop on my nose before he smiled and leant in capturing my lips in a gentle kiss, he smelt like oak wood, old iron and petrichor, I could taste his earlier tea still lingering in his lips, his skin soft but his lips scarcely cracked from the heat and the sun, I enjoyed our kisses as I'd never enjoyed anything before, his kisses reminded me of sweet summer toffees, of birds cooing in the morning sun, of the sweet embrace of a warm soft bed. I felt comforted, sweetened and protected in a way I haven't felt since I was small.

When we pulled away I couldn't stop my smile as I snuggled back into his chest.

"humm now I have to marry you," he cooed.

"Do you?"

"I think if just a little kiss makes me feel like this, then I must be kissing the girl I should marry," he cooed.

We lay snuggly for a good while until finally, he broke the silence between us.

"Will you tell me? Why do you want to get rid of it so badly?"

"Because of its conception,"

"Understandable. Who's the father?"

"Jack-",

"Please, I promise I won't tell anyone and I'll all be over soon anyway. I just want to know,"

"My Uncle Warren," I answered, nuzzling as deep into his waistcoat as I could.

I felt his skin go cold, his heart slow, and his hands freeze up.

"Warren?" He asked and I nodded, "Your UNCLE!" he yelled and I nodded.

"Please don't be angry with me Jack," I whispered.

"No no no! Y/n sweetheart no I'm not angry at you I promise," he reassured, "I'm sorry but I have to make sure I heard you right," he said picking my face up in his hands and holding us so my nose was against his "Your uncle, Did this to you? Your father's brother, who lives with you, who has lived with you since you were six, did this to you?"

"Yes Jack," I nodded.

"How often does he do this to you?"

"At least twice a week. He'll come up to my room after dark and-" I began to cry.

"sh sh sh it's okay." He reassured, "You know what. I changed my mind. Let's go see your father now," he said as he got up.

"Are you sure Jack?"

"Ohh I'm positive sweetheart," he said as we gathered our things and headed to the door "ohh before I forget," he said as he rushed to the prep room a moment, "Perfect, that'll do," he smirked, as he returned with an impressive knife often used in his surgeries to cut through skin and muscle tissue.

"Jack?" I asked curiously.

"Come on then," he smiled, as he put the knife in his jacket and came to the door.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Going to talk to your father, come on," he smiled, as he took my hand as we headed out into the sunset of the evening.

"Jack why are you taking the -"

"We're just going to have a nice little chat." He said, "A nice little chat."

"You're not going to -"

"I just wanna talk to him,"

Finally, we arrived at my door and he knocked and held me close even if I was beyond frightened.

The door opened to my father who instantly saw me.

"There you are, girl! we've been worried sick about you -" he began, "ohh Dr Dawkins? This is a surprise what are you doing here?" he asked as he saw Jack with me perplexed as to why the two of us were together.

"Just popping by, may I come in?" Jack smiled,

"Of course come in, we're in the study," he said, as he ushered us both inside and into the study. I quickly sat on the short sofa by the fire and picked up my embroidery to try and preoccupy myself and keep myself silent as they often requested.

My father went to his small bar tray fixing himself a drink and one for Jack, both of which he set on the table between us all, before he sat on the sofa beside Warren. Jack found his seat on the chair in the centre, he gave me a small smile even if his eyes lingered on my uncle.

"What do we owe the pleasure doctor?" My uncle asked, but he looked at me as he asked,

"Well, I won't bother with pleasantries. Y/n. I want to marry her,"

My uncle spat his drink.

"You what?!" my father asked in shock.

"I wish to marry y/n,"

"Uhh, right? Are you sure?" My father asked, "A handsome, trained, gentleman such as yourself surely you'd be more interested elsewhere?"

"I am interested in her,"

"Well, the surgeon is certainly better than I'd thought she'd do. I was assuming she'd be a spinster or sell her off to the milk boy's son" He explained, "Well you'll be living in your house I presume?"

"Of course,"

"You'll take care of her? Treat her well?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Well, Alright." he shrugged, "So long as you're sure? That's my only rule you can't bring her back," He joked.

"That will not be a concern, sir."

"Alright, well I am pleased to allow this engagement," He smiled, "Congratulations you two,"

"You're alright with the wedding being soon? We don't really want to wait."

"The sooner the better!" My father smiled, "We must celebrate, I'll fetch us some champagne," He smiled and got up from his seat and gave my head a little kiss as he passed and headed out of the study.

"This is good news indeed," My uncle smirked. "Very sudden," he smirked, as he got up and came to loom over me "You really believe you're going to get away from me that easily?"

"I'd step back if I were you," Jack warned him and pressed his knife against Warren's chest and he forced him to move back,

"Why should I? She's my niece,"

"Yeah, and I know what you've been doing to her."

Immediately he looked furious "Whatever she told you, It's a lie."

"Forgive me if I make my own assumptions."

"Fine, I'll back up," he said, as he moved back a little.

"Good. Now I hear that you're anywhere near my fiancé, or that you've done anything to her I'll cut your cock off,"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would." he warned, "And I'm a surgeon. I know how to do it and make sure you survive to suffer,"

"Fine," He said as he returned to his sofa.

Jack smiled and sat beside me as he hid his knife away and gave my cheek a little kiss as my father returned with some champagne.

I was skittish but I knew this had to happen. The last few days have been so busy. Our wedding was so precious even if it was small and brief, I had moved into the house and it very quickly felt like home, Jack had made sure of that. He had made the place cosy for me, often checking in on me to see if I was alright and so far he had been the best husband I could have ever wished for. I strolled through the locked-up house by the glow of my candle, only my cotton nightgown against my skin I had accepted this would be the last time I would likely wear it. I reached the theatre, the stalls were dark and empty, the windows blacked out, and even the door to the prep room bolted and curtained with only the door I walked through left open for me. The chandelier hung above the bed lighting this room enough to see, the table prepared freshly cleaned with a cover over it, and sawdust under the table to aid in cleaning.

The room was utterly silent.

Jack stood in front of his small table, lining items across the table from a Water Basin. The tools all lingered there in the boiling water already freshly cleaned, he took them from the water and dried them with a new cloth before setting them in their place on a covered table. All this was far more covered and more cleanliness than was typical of Jack and his work but I suppose in his mind, It's not every day he operates on his own wife. I stepped In and closed the door behind me, I bolted the lock and turned to give him a grim smile. He smiled back a little more optimistic than my own smile silence still between us in the hope that everything we were to do tonight would be a secret between only us and the ghosts.

He offered his hand so I set my candle down and went over, I took his hand and he softly pressed a kiss there, he stroked my cheekbone and playfully smiled as he gave my nose a little bop and then a kiss before he helped me up onto the table.

"Just relax sweetheart," he reassured, as he adjusted me slightly, "Any discomfort?" he asked,

"I'm very hungry and thirsty," I admit,

"I know sweetheart," he smiled and kissed my forehead, "I'll make you some soup and a nice big glass of juice as soon as we're done I promise," he said as he used the buckle belts on the table to restain my legs and arms even my stomach and for a moment I giggled.

"Ohh Jack, if you were into that sort of thing you should really have told me before we got married,"

"Don't be cheeky Mrs Dawkins Or I'll give you such a spanking," He warned

"You'll be gentle? Won't you?"

"Of course I will," he reassured, "As gentle as I can be." He smiled, "I mean it's in my best interest too, you're my wife."

"I suppose you would be very interested in maintaining that part of me," I blushed.

"Well yes. But I was more thinking, you're my wife. I'm the one that's going to have to deal with you. I cause you too much pain I'll never hear the end of it,"

"No, you won't," I told him.

"Okay, you ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready," I nodded.

"I'll take care of you, I promise," He reassured me as he offered me the little cup that contained the anaesthesia. I happily swallowed it even if it tasted terrible, "There we go, you get some rest sweetheart, I'll take care of you,"

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled. We shared a sweet kiss before I began to drift away falling into a deep sleep.

I woke up and I felt sore, my whole body ached, my body lay in my bed with blankets and pillows, and everything hurt but it was a pain I knew well as it reminded me so much of my monthly pains.

"Sweetheart, Hey? Are you feeling okay?" Jack asked as he came through into the bedroom with some soup and juice that he sat by the table

"Everything hurts," I answered.

"It will do," He smiled, sitting beside me and giving my forehead a little kiss, "but it's all done. Nothing to worry about any more,"

"It's gone?"

"Gone. Now I'm going to be taking care of you until you're all better," he smiled, "You need to rest, take it easy, be gentle with yourself, No baths you're going to have to shower I'm more than happy to help with that," he winked, "And two, maybe three weeks you'll be good as new,"

"thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Go on have your soup you need anything at all just call alright I'll be in the office" He explained, he gave me a sweet kiss before he went to head out of the bedroom.

"Jack?"

"Yeah y/n?"

"I love you," I giggled.

"Love you too sweetheart" He cooed as he blew me a kiss and headed down to his office. 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n not even deathly pain could keep me away. Hope you all would enjoy this part eight. Think we might be getting close to the end here. Thank you for the love and patience.

warnings: forceful behavior, abusive relationship, degradation, swearing, past trauma, fighting, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual interactions. I think that's all....

Parts in cursive are memories

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You weren't sure if it was you who was on fire or if the room was burning, but no one except you noticed. You kept asking yourself how many fake smiles were too many. Your cheeks were aching. Surely, that was a sign that this was it. You had reached for the empty container, glancing at the pile of open bottles that were lined by the bins. There was no glass container, so you assumed that was how you were meant to store them for now. You dropped your cigarette on the ground carelessly before reaching for the back door handle.

"Down it, sis", the voice found you almost immediately, and a full-body shiver ran through you. Here they all were. You used to like them. Dreamed of being a part of their friend group. Maybe still did. It was all so confusing. So rough around the edges. You shook your head, "Good for now", you smiled, dropping the crate near the other still-full boxes of booze. "Ask your bitch, dude. It seems like she barks just for you", one of the guys said, as you bit the inside of your cheek, anger started to bubble within you. Ezra's friend treated you like their beating bag most times. And he... Well, you would hope he would opt to stand up for you, but...

"Drink", your boyfriend nodded towards the glass of whatever concoction their high selves had created. Your eyes met his. The room seemed to quiet down. The rest of the group was smiling from ear to ear. This was free entertainment for them. "I don't want to", you muttered under your breath as u's and boo's filled the room. And there was that twisted look on Ezra's face as he crooked his head. Daring you silently to say that one more time. You know that the best option here was to nod and step forward, but you found yourself shaking your head instead.

And then it was all a blur. Your brain was too slow at processing how and when Ezra had crossed the distance between the two of you. When he grabbed your hand. Turned to yank you up the stairs. You were convinced that you heard giggles as you went from the grope. And then a rough shove. A cold wall. The breath was knocked out of your lungs. A harsh hold was on your jaw as he spat, "You dare to embrace me like that, huh?", your lower lip wobbled. "Can you fucking do what you're told? Why do you have to be so useless?", for a flicker his face morphed into Carmys, and you tried to shake your head.

"I don't want this", you said. For so long, too afraid to say anything about it. Ezra had laughed, "You ungrateful bitch", and then he was dragging you across the bedroom. Shoving you through the closest doors "What are you doing?", you had managed to mutter before you heard a click and all color drained from your face. You gave the door a little push, but they didn't budge. He had locked you in. "No, Ez, please no. Open the door", the panic started to spread. As you banged your palms against the door, "Open the door, open the door, please", but there was no answer or reply, "Don't leave me here; open the door, open the door".

You had pulled your face out of the freezing stream of water. Usually, the sound of water all around you drowned out the noises in your head. Brought you as far as your childhood days went. When you would leap from the little bridge into the cold lake water, and all the buzzing excitement. The laughter. Anything and everything would die down the moment you were deep within the water. Time would stop. There was only that moment. A moment of stillness. And then the body would rise again.

It was a wimp, truly. Nothing more. Nothing less. You were fidgety and uneasy ever since you landed in Chicago. And the thing was that the flight itself was such a wuss too. A rush of adrenaline. All the emotions bubbled up so extensively that it was too much. They were too suffocating. You had to go. Couldn't stay in one place for long. It felt like your body was going to explode otherwise. Like your brain was going to take off running and you wouldn't be able to keep up with it.

You left Luca with a note as you slipped out of bed in the middle of the night. A part of you felt guilty about that. The other, however, knew that it was he who put this into motion. It was so easy with him. Always so easy. You never second-guessed. You didn't need to have any of your guards up. Because Luka knew you. Inside and out. You doubted there was a flaw in your body that you hadn't shown to him and that he, in return, hadn't held with such delicate care.

You sank to the shower floor, bringing your knees closer to your chest as the water poured down your naked frame. You weren't even sure how you ended up at the restaurant. That same urge had brought you there, no doubt. Must have. A curiosity. A poisonous inkling. What if Carmy was there, and so was she? What then? You would just know that he spends his afternoons with her. Cooks for her with the love that he poured into the dishes he had made for you back then? That he had finally replaced you. That you were again nothing more than a piece of trash beneath someone's shoe that one was eager to shake off. But there was no Claire there. There was no sign of dinner plates being shared. There was no smell of food. Just a fire. A big, blazing fire and Carmen was reaching toward it. And then there was your pulling at him. You dragging him away. The pounding in your ears as you looked over his hands for any signs of irritated skin, a burn, or blisters forming. And he was just staring at you as if you were Venus itself, who had stepped out of one of Botticelli's paintings. Holy figure. A vision.

"Fucking breathe", you had barked at him when Carmen just kept on blurring your name over and over again. You started to hate the sound of it. The sound of anything. And then Carmen pulled you into his embrace, and you let him. And a part of you melted for the time being. It felt as if finally. Finally, you had found the exact thing that you had been craving, and the thought of it until this moment was making you sick. It felt like that sweet sensation of relief when you finally get the itchy spot on your body that you just couldn't seem to grasp for so long.

To Carmen, it too felt like this was it. Finally, you were here, and it would all start to fall into place, but then there was you. Pushing against his chest as you tried to get away from him. And he wanted to fight that. He held you close against him, but he knew it was wrong. That was your choice to make. It was your shot to call, and he was not going to take it away from you. Carmen wasn't all that surprised as he met your angry, blazing eyes. "Do you have a death wish? Does... Has no one told you that you don't...", you rambled on, "Fuck, Carmen". And if only you knew how many things he wanted to tell you. The thought itself overwhelmed him. Carmen wasn't even sure where to start. What to say first? Which words were more important? Had more value? But nothing came out of his mouth. He stood there, staring at you.

"Are you high or something? Have you been taking some shit?", you moved closer to inspect his pupils. Carmen realized. "No, no...", he muttered. It was taking all of his strength to not let his hands touch your hips, just as he was used to. Just how it had been so natural for him, but then he was so hyper-aware that any wrong or poor choice would push you away. "I've...", Carmen had rasped out before you cut in, "Does anything hurt?"

And Carmen saw it in your eyes. That same care, that same longing to protect him. To look after him. He saw you once again snarling at his mother as you threw the remaining white lilies her way. A warning finger pointed at her as you said, "You don't raise a hand at him". Carmen had never felt so safe before. Of course, the desire to protect you was there too. Strong and itching, and he has always had and always will protect you. But it was your will to fight for him that lit something up within him.

Carmy was about to reach for you, to ask the same question, to make sure that you two were safe, and then... "Bunny, you're okay?", Carmy's brain must have shut down for a moment. As he watched you turn away from him, all the attention slipped elsewhere. To someone who has opened all of the doors by now. Who had a towel in his hand. Fanning the smoke away. The fire alarms should have gone off. Why didn't they? Was this too broken? Something Richie failed to mention. Fucking Richie...

And then Carmy couldn't seem to move because... He watches as Luca, the fucking Luca of all people, approached you. How he rested his palms over your cheeks. How you didn't pull away. How you let him touch you. Touch you as Carmen used to. His fists clenched as he watched. "I'm fine; I didn't... I just pulled him away. What are you doing here?", and there's no anger or frustration in your tone. None of it as you spoke with him, but it was just there seconds ago. Directed right at Carmen. It's the way Luca nodded, tugging a strand of your hair behind your lips, that set something loose in Camen. A blinding rage. A soaring desire to just...

You barely managed to catch it. Carmen's hands come into contact with Luca's side. It wasn't a punch. A shove, but a shove nonetheless. It sent you stumbling slightly as well. Just from the shared fact that Luca was still holding onto you, your eyes fell on Carmen. The deadly. The angry look he carried. The sick look on his face. A picture from the past. A glimpse. A... "What are you... Stop it!", you shouted, trying to thread your hands through the tangle of limbs. As Luka too turned to Carmen, the messenger here was clear: "Fucking. Fuck no, stop", you still tried as they took fistfuls of one another's shirts. Getting way too close in each other's personal space.

But then it's the old house. You're barely standing. You barely have clothes on. Luca with a cut on his eyebrow. The warm blood had trickled down the side of his face. You can only see fragments through your teary eyes, but you push in between them, shoveling as hard as you can, "Stop, Ezra, stop". The room suddenly stills. Your body feels frozen. You open your eyes, and it's Carmy who's looking at you. His arms had fallen to the side as he looked you over, even more confused than before. Your hand quickly came up to cover your mouth.

"Oh, so there's more than just one?", Carmy's words made your guts twist. The little, helpless, defenseless girl was standing back here. Shaking her head. "You don't understand", you muttered back, "You don't know anything". Now it was Carmen shaking his head as his eyes moved between you and Luca. "And you dared to blame me?", now that set flames within you as you stepped forward, "I was never disloyal to you! It was you who dragged that girl back home", "You've been fucking him these last weeks?", but your palm came into contact with his chest as you gave it a light shove. "Don't you dare call me names, Carmen"? You hold his gaze for a moment longer before dropping it as you turn to rush out of one of the open doors. The shake of Luca's head as he followed you out, "You've stepped low, mate". And Carmy was left to watch as Luca finally caught up to you. How he pulled at your hand to make you slow down. Pulling you into his arms. Even from where Carmen stood in between the doorframe leading to the back alley, he could hear the cries that wrecked you. Carried by the wind. By some upper power. To show him once more that it's you, big guy, who's making her sob like that in the middle of the street. But the jealousy ran thicker this time. Drowning out the inner voice.

Carmen was practically lying on top of you, his face nuzzled into your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair softly. Gently tugging at the roots from time to time. He lifted his head slowly, flashing you a lazy smile that you didn't hesitate to return before his lips started trailing kisses all over your chest and neck. "I wish I could melt into you sometimes", he whispered, breathing in the smell of your skin. The cold chain on his neck brushed against your warm skin, making you shiver slightly. "You're quite literally still inside me", you giggled, and Carmy didn't hesitate to give you a lazy thrust, making you wrap your legs around his lower body once again. You had finally found time for one another after a long and busy spell. So parting seemed like way too much now. Impossible even.

"You're all I've wished to have. The...", his words died down as he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours, "You've begun to feel like home". Your eyes tried to catch him because of those words. Those words were exactly how you were feeling all this time. This. Whatever was between you two always felt bigger. Simple words felt too dull. After all these years of running, you could finally stop. Finally breath. Finally, allow yourself to wrap yourself up in the warmth that was Carmen.

The kisses grew messy and eager. It was so easy to just melt together. To become one and forget about the world. "I want you to sketch the restaurant. Bring the bear to life", Carmen said between kisses, making you still. "What...", you muttered, trying to make him look up at you, abandon the sweet spot on your neck, and just look up at you. "I want you to be a part of it. Want to display your art there", you wanted to believe that this wasn't a blissful delusion as you pulled him to look at you properly, meeting his eyes. Eyes that, yes, were high on love but serious. "Carm, that... that's big...", you stuttered, thinking about what a big step that would be if your silly little creations saw the daylight. As if sensing your worries and your doubts, Carmen quickly packed your lips before kissing the tip of your nose gently and saying, "I love you. Everything about you, I want to show you the world".

You didn't want to see anyone. Didn't want to face people. Luca had sat with you through the night. Had stepped into the shower to drag you out of that freezing stream. Made you a cup of tea. You wanted to just lie down and not think. Not think about Carmen. Get him out of your thoughts. So maybe meeting with Marcus and Sydney was a good idea after all. Maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"I will beat his ass for real", Sydney huffed as she twirled the pasta Luca had made for everyone around the fork. You had finally told her everything. You needed to get it off your chest, and it felt nice. To have someone. Someone who wasn't just Luca "Don't; I already dragged Luca into this", you let your gaze drift to him. Flour covered his hands as he showed Marcus how to form different shapes of pastry. And Marcus, who looked like a kid in the candy shop. Eyes sparkling. He gave him a concentrated look as he nodded at everything that Luca said.

"He cares about you a lot", Sydney said, making you drop your gaze as you let out a sigh, "I'm convinced that he's my guardian angel". You pushed the food around the plate, letting the moment of silence fall over the two of you. "And Carmen and him? Their friends", you let out a snicker at that, "I... I met Carmen properly because of Luca".

You were laying on the sofa, your head hanging from the side, as you listened to Luca speak, "It's just a couple of chefs. Please, I need backup". You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "You need backup? As if... Plus that dick of a roommate is out tonight... I want to enjoy my peace". It wasn't that you two bumped into one another often, but even when you did, it was too much. So with him gone and it being a Friday night, the possibilities were endless. "I need you. There will be some pretty big dogs there. You ground me".

That's how you found yourself in someone's apartment. With trays of food in hands, helping Luca carry everything that he had already made and was going to make while there. That's where you met Charlie and his pregnant girlfriend Mimi. Two girls from the restaurant, Mario, the dude from Ireland, and... Carmen... Your fucking roommate. One that had been snarling at your boxed mac and cheese. To whose coffee you added salt because he had gotten on your nerves. But something also felt different. As if you two had finally seen one another. Stopped and properly looked. Not just glanced, but looked. And something snapped. As if all the stars finally aligned and you two just couldn't seem to pull your eyes from one another.

"What a coincidence", Carmen muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counter when you two bumped into one another with no one else around. "Or fate", you said, giving him a flashy smile. He had laughed at that, "Feels like fate to you?" You only shrugged your shoulders and said, "Feels like something much bigger", and it was. Because not even a week later, you two were going on your first proper date.

"So, you three are friends?", Sydney asked eagerly, pulling you after the deep thought. "They were never really friends. Too competitive in the kitchen", you muttered. "We had a couple of dinners together, but... I think Carmen was glad when Luca moved to Copenhagen". Sydney was without a doubt about to ask another question when Marcus carefully lowered the plate full of baked goods onto the table. You caught a glimpse of Luca wiping his hands with a towel before mouthing, "Thank you", he only winked your way before he too stepped closer to the table. Listening to Marcus talk about everything that Luca had taught him just now.

"Tell me about your week?", the room was too light for Carmen's liking, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The first drops of sweat covered his forehead. "Bad", he said bluntly. "Would you like to tell me more?", Carmen cringed at her tone. The way she kept tapping her pen onto her notebook. He frowned. "I lost her again,", he admitted. Sure, this was supposed to be a safe space, but he felt so trapped here. The tiny room. The way it was filled with motivational quotes, "She came back, and I... I said everything that I didn't mean to say", he admitted, and the woman instantly asked, "Why?", "Because I'm an idiot", Carmen blurred. "I also think that... I think that... I", he suddenly felt like there was not enough air in the room, "I should let her go. Stop trying to hold onto her; she deserves someone better".

You weren't sure how many cigarettes you smoked. The uneasy feeling didn't budge. Just now, your head was pounding. Shiver after shiver ran down your back. Chicago felt different. Simple because you knew that Carmen was here. You could easily bump into him. He could come to find you. You could do the same. Thirty minutes. That's all it would take, and you would come face-to-face with Carmen. Then it will not be much longer to your appointment. The place that now felt like a fever dream to you. Had he thrown away your stuff? Your paintings? Books? Clothes? You left practically all of your life there.

Were you upset? Yes. Very much so. And it still hurt, and you were sure it would for some time. But you couldn't. It was driving you crazy. Because now you looked at Luca, and you saw Carmy. In the smallest things he did. Things that Carmy too did or said, you missed him. Missed just knowing that he was coming home, no matter how late it was. Not to mention that you were so fucking worried. Because Carmen didn't look like himself. His dull, lost eyes were hunting you now. The way he clung to you. You were starting to wonder what was driving you more insane. The fact that you were so hurt by him or the fact that you missed him so much. You quickly picked up your phone. "Just thinking about Ossobuco", you typed out. Cursing because it felt stupid, and maybe you didn't even mean it, but... "Haven't stopped thinking about it", the message came through not even a minute later. You bit your lip. Trying to keep your emotions at bay. "I'm so sorry, baby", the next one read, and you quickly locked your phone, tossing it onto the sofa. You couldn't. Suddenly, you couldn't watch him fall apart over a text.

Carmy was late. Not like he wasn't late most of the time to those meetings. He doesn't talk much now. Only when there were too many things on his mind. He liked this way more than those private meetings he was having. He heard, and he felt heard. Understood. It helped him listen to others, or it drowned out the pain he was feeling. He sure could have stopped coming. Maybe he even should have, but he found himself pushing the door open every week.

Pulling the hat off his head, Carmen sank into one of the back seats. Brushing his hair away from his face. "We have new faces here today", the lady moderating the meetings said, "Why don't we start with them? Let them share their stories. Of course if that's okay". Carmy fidgeted with his coat, still feeling that same uncomfortable feeling here. That dread. That feeling of Mikey here. That feeling of him watching.

"Ah, hey", Carmy lifted his head so quickly that his vision blurred for a split second. There was no way. Absolutely no way. He gripped the seat in front of him, leaning forward. His heart was beating so fast that he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. "My name is Y/N, and I am...", you swallowed thickly, and Carmen felt bile rising in his throat, "My first ex was an abusive addict".

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Taglist: @globetrotter28 @fairytale07 @carma-fanficaddict @selltohell @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 3 @harrysmatcha @lady-bellyn @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child @arieltwvdtohamflash @simsiddy @yezzyyae @hidingfromtex @toptierbunny @rooster-bradshaws @simonsaysyasss @hannahmmarie2016 @ladygrey03 @kyushii

[beetlejuicyy]

Corruption (A Blessing for a Curse User) | Geto Suguru x Reader

Summary: Geto Suguru is your last hope when you start seeing curses. But his reason for taking you in is more perverted than he lets you see. Set sometime during those ten years before jjk0

Warnings: manipulation, smut with plot, overstimulation, oral (f! receiving)

Word count: 5,834

Read on AO3

Author's note: i couldn't stop thinking that geto would have canonically used pussy therapy to cope so i had to come up with a plot for it

Masterlist

Your steps halted after reaching the top of the stairs. So many times you wanted to come to the temple, ask for help, thinking, knowing that you had nowhere else to turn to. But you always hesitated, anxiety and shame taking over your mind. But fear prevailed, at last. You went to therapists, they told you it was stress, unresolved childhood trauma. You've never heard of people seeing monsters at lunch time because they had a narcissistic mother. They were everywhere. And they were looking at you, their disgusting sounds echoing in your ears even after running away. You haven't had a good night's sleep in a couple of months. The only rest you had was always in the presence of someone else, scared that the monsters might come for you. What were they? What did they want from you?

You had reached your limit last night. You went out with some friends, thinking a large company would help. But it was worse. So many, so different, so disgusting. Those monsters were everywhere, on people's shoulders, hiding behind the corner of a building, on the counter at the grocery store. You ran home, away from the crowded neighbourhood, took a cold shower and decided you couldn't delay it anymore. Otherwise you would go completely insane.

You had to see Geto Suguru.

It was right before sunrise, when the darkness of the night was melting into brighter shades of blue, the fresh air of morning filling your lungs, encouraging you to move forward.  You doubted anyone was there so early in the morning. You were determined to wait, in any case. You wrapped your fingers around the cold golden surface of the handle, hitting it lightly against the tall door. Behind, the tip of the sun was slowly creeping up, engulfing the world in a warm orange light.

"Good morning, miss early bird." You heard a gleeful voice.

Turning back, you noticed a tall, long haired man dressed in the traditional monk attire. His lips were curled up in a smile, although it lacked any warmth.

"I-I'm sorry to bother." You quickly apologized, trying to control your stuttering voice. "I-I know it's early but... uhm I am here for... I have a problem... I mean I want to talk to-" Maybe the sleepless nights were taking their toll on your concentration.

"I am Geto Suguru." The man said, his hands hidden away under the flowing sleeves of his kesa. "Come inside, I believe it is me you're looking for."

You nodded, following him inside. All the stories you heard from people who seeked out Geto's help were similar. He was kind and jovial, with a well developed, and borderline offensive, sense of humour for a monk. He helped everyone. But there was something off about him, you heard that often. Contrary to his gentle smile, people felt in danger in his presence, some describing it as a sensation of imminent death. You were feeling all of those things right now, as you walked one step behind him. Geto looked like he was coming from somewhere, not that he had just woken up to open the temple. You walked into an empty room, the only noticeable decoration being the three scrolls hanging on the wall.

Death to the Fool

Punishment to the Weak

Love to the Strong

Your steps froze in the middle of the room while Geto walked over, sitting down on the floor with the scrolls framing his head as he leaned his head to rest on his palm. The word weak blinded you for a moment and you couldn't concentrate on anything else but the thought that you were indeed weak. A fool? You weren't quite sure. Strong? Clearly not. You fitted perfectly into the weak category. You wondered if these were the principles of the man in front of you, a drop of sweat falling along your neck. You've never heard of these words used for any other temple. But you weren't the religious type anyway.

"Miss early bird?" You heard Geto's voice get louder and you realized you must have not heard him calling you before. You blinked, confused, introducing yourself.

"I think I'm going crazy." was the first thing you blurted out after your name. You didn't have the time to prepare a speech or rehearse anything. You let out whatever you felt first and Geto laughed, a mocking but harmless laugh that you couldn't blame. "I started seeing these weird monsters. Everywhere. Next to people. On the street. Some are even talking to me." Geto's attitude changed, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know how to get rid of them. Nobody else sees them. I don't even know if they are real."

"When did you start seeing these monsters?" He asked, his eyes paying more attention to your form now. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but he could sense your cursed energy.

"A few months ago. Around the time I moved to the city. I'm from a small mountain village." You looked at Geto, your only hope, as he pondered on your fate. His silence made you more nervous with every passing second. More desperate. You didn't think you could bear to walk out on your own and see those monsters again. You would rather die.

Death to the Fool

Were you a fool?

"I want to be strong!" You yelled out as tears filled your eyes. "Please, please, please I don't ever want to see those things ever again!" You begged, falling on your knees. You were definitely weak. You sobbed in silence, not even noticing when Geto sat up and walked over to you. Your break down helped him make a decision it seemed. He crouched down in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face with his slender fingers.

"Miss early bird." He said as he wiped your tears away. You wanted to correct him, remind him that you had introduced yourself already, but his soft voice left you speechless. A softness, different from the previously dissimulated one, coated his words like a sweet ointment on your open wounds. "Do you know where these monsters come from?" You looked at him, eyes empty and confused, shaking your head. "They come from filthy monkeys." You frowned. Was he making fun of your suffering? "If you get rid of the cause, the effect would naturally disappear, don't you think?"

"Get rid of monkeys?" You asked, aware of the fact that, if he really was making fun of you, it was already unavoidable.

"A figure of speech." He threw his hands in the air, in a helpless gesture. "The things you're seeing are curses, miss early bird. And they are born out of humans that cannot control cursed energy." You would have snapped for sure at his reluctance to refer to you by name if his following words didn't make your eyes open wide in shock, unable to register the information you just received.

"So... I'm not going crazy?" You whispered, almost scared to say it out loud.

"You said you don't want to see curses again." His voice changed to a serious tone by the time your tears ran dry. "The only solution is getting rid of their cause. Monkeys." He spat out the last word with such spite that it had you jolt back in surprise.

"But I'm a human too..." You mumbled, finding this small error of logic in his story fatal.

"No, no." He waved a long, slim finger in front of your face like a toddler. "You have cursed energy. I can help you control it."

He sat up, gathering the the folds of his traditional robe. You looked up at him, one of his arms extended towards you, his palm just above your head.

"Do you want to help me kill all the monkeys, miss early bird?"

*

Out of all the people in Geto's inner circle, you clearly stood out as the weakest, dumbest and most useless. At least this is how you felt. His found family was, if you had to pick one word, peculiar. But even more peculiar than that was your very presence amongst them. You didn't have any basics, didn't even know this world existed until you begged Geto for help. He must run out of patience at some point, you thought. But everyday he found even the smallest moments to give you some insight or reevaluate your progress so far.

Geto Suguru was a proud man. After all, he was leading a cult. Your desperation hit a very sensitive spot inside him that he wasn't even aware existed. Something about your crying face, so pretty despite your agony, gave him the satisfaction of being your saviour. The feeling caught him by surprise as well. Usually, people begging him for help disgusted him. However, he took a lot of pleasure out of teaching you everything, starting with the most obvious things. Your eyes fixed on him, taking in his every word, so well behaved, so eager to make him proud.

It was a completely different feeling from taking care of Nanako and Mimiko. His care for them came from a genuine  concern, an honest wish to defend the people like him, wronged by the unfair world. With you, his protection and guidance came from a more perverted part of his soul. A part that he ignored for long, uninterested in trivial matters like this.

He enjoyed having all the answers for your questions. He enjoyed solving your problems, being the person you depended on. He was teaching you how to be strong, yes, but he also enjoyed knowing he would always be above you, no matter what. Something about your lack of pride, your straightforward questions, your awe in response to his knowledge and strenght, everything about you rubbed him the right way.

"Tell me again about your village, miss early bird." Three months later and he still insisted on not using your name. You were convinced he had to know it, he simply found it amusing to use this silly nickname. It didn't bother you anymore.

"It's very peaceful." You said as you poured Geto some tea. After you found out about his unpleasant technique, you made it your daily task to offer him some consolation in order to make up for the nauseating taste of curses he absorbed. "People are very close to nature, it brings a lot of peace to the soul." The tea you were preparing for him had calming properties, besides the floral mild taste. "There are no natural calamities and no thieves. People learned to take what they need from nature and share it with the community. The wi-fi signal is shitty, though." You joked and he smiled before taking a sip.

You found yourself fall for that smile. It was quite inevitable, if you really put some thought into it. He was so kind, so gentle, so generous, so patient with you. Not to mention his handsome face. Soon, you started wishing you could see more of what was hiding under his attire. You quickly learned how to distinguish between the subtle undertones of his smile. Maybe you were delusional, but you never saw him smile to other people like he smiled for you.

"Sounds like a nice place." That's what he would always say. You guessed the idea of your boring home village was some kind if utopia for him. No wonder you never saw curses before. They didn't exist there.

"Why did you leave?"  It was the first time he asked. He was usually more interested in the way the community worked, how people avoided conflicts, how secluded the place was or how many modern things were absent there.

"I had no future there." He nodded, understading your perfectly valid point.

"Would you go back?" He asked, his eyes already searching the answer in your wavering gaze.

"Only to visit." You answered. He already guessed that from the sad look on your face as you remembered about your home.

"Make sure you take me too some time."

*

You gradually grew closer to everyone else. The dedication of Geto's followers was quite impressive and it only made you want to compete even more fervently for his favours. You quickly realized that the basic martial arts you learned as a kid held more importance than you initially thought. Sometimes Geto would challenge you, only to have you immobilized humiliatingly fast. But thirty seconds turned to one full minute, then two, then five. The more you trained your body, the longer you were able to face him. And the longer you lasted, the more satisfying became the moment when he had both your wrists behind your back in a tight grip, his other hand in your hair while his weight pressed your body firmly on the ground. You've never noticed him paying time and energy with anyone's training, let alone enjoy defeating them as much.

"Gotcha, miss early bird." He would whisper in your ear and you would unsuccessfully try to resist, to break free of his grip, which only made him laugh and hold you tighter. "You'd be dead by now."

When he would finally move away, you would find yourself wishing he remained longer, althought the strain in your shoulders and the pressure of his weight were painful.

"Ten minutes, that's a new record." Geto would praise you when checking the timer. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when he slipped the robe off his shoulders, groaning in the scorching sun of noon. "You've got me sweating, good job."

You were still laying on the ground, rolled on your back, watching his tall figure tower over you. The sun was behind him, like a halo around his head crowned with messy raven hair that fell down to his waist. You couldn't see his face clearly, the light behind him too strong, blinding you. But what you could see was the shape of his body, the round and sharp turns that shaped the contour of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, his fit arms, his slim waist and muscular abdomen right above the band of his baloon pants. In that moment, he looked otherwordly to you. A light in your brain was switched on and you completely understood why people gathered around him, why they pledged allegiance to his cause, why he was worthy of worship. You were left speechless, on the ground, at his feet. He had all the rights to step over you, punish you. Compared to him, you would always be weak, insignificant.

Geto noticed your awe. It was only the two of you, no one else in sight. He pretended not to, but the corner of his mouth was curled in a patronizing grin. All the light of day was reflected on your body, sweaty and gasping for air after only ten minutes of facing him. How pathetic. And yet, your weakness didn't trigger repugnance or malice. Your helpless attempts to fight back, fully aware that it was futile, delighted him. Especially now, when your eyes sparkled  in the sun, pupils dilated in veneration, your presence was so unbearably arousing to the point that all the blood seemed to flow into his cock.

"I looked into your fairy tale village." Geto finally said. You would have never stood up from the ground, willing to witness his greatness for the rest of your life. "There's a very high chance you have inherited a special cursed technique." You blinked several times, like trying to get rid of a haze covering your eyes. You sat up, your previously high ponytail only a tangled mess now.

"I don't understand." How could you be so shamelessly blunt? If he were in your shoes, Geto would be embarrassed to admit his lack of knowledge so easily. But in front of him, you bluntly and carelessly showed your most innocent and pure self, like a clueless lamb unaware of the coming slaughter.

"Remote villages are common but yours seemes to have the best of both worlds. No greed, no crime, no hatred yet it's fairly modern and economically thriving."

As the words left his lips he realized that maybe this was the very reason you trusted him so easily, laid all your flaws in front of him so he could pick and choose which way to build you up. You hardly ever went through hardships in life. You learned to trust the people around you. Consequently, seeing curses for the first time was probably the worst thing that had happened to you. You were so untained by the unfair world. So untouched. So easily breakable. You were a blank canvas of innocence with plently of space for him to paint any sinful whim residing in his soul.

"Turns out you're a descendant of an old clan of sorcerers who abandoned the old ways of jujutsu a few hundred years ago. Most were exterminated, the surviving never found."

You parted your lips in an attempt to protest but not sound came out of your mouth. Insead, an astonished expression fell over your face, as you watched Geto sit back down on the ground, a couple of steps away from you.

"You've never seen curses because jujutsu sorcerers don't produce curses. And your tiny mountain village was made up of exclusively descendants of this clan. It may be dormant, but your legacy is still there."

Geto's dark eyes shimmered with a violet shade in the sun, contrasting with his long dark locks that fell over his shoulders, absorbing all the light.

"Isn't it... the world you want to create?" You asked unsure, feeling like he was a teacher testing you. One wrong answer and you could fail the class.

"A scaled-down version, yes." He agreed.

Your eyes uncontrollably fell down his body, watching how his chest softly rose and fell as he breathed, how toned his arms were, how inviting his posture was. You felt a primal urge to crawl up to him, touch him, provoke him. And you did. Gathering your remaining strength, you closed the distance between your bodies. He stood there, unmoved, his eyes looking down at your smaller body, like a hunter watching his prey. Except that his prey was walking right into his jaws, so close. Now, the words death to the fool made perfect sense. A faint breeze of air brushed over both of you, so weak that only the ends of his hair fluttered in the air, grazing against your skin.

"Geto-sama." You said, closer to a whisper, afraid that the wind might carry your words for others to hear. "I believe I was born to serve you."

*

The stronger you became, the closer you got to Geto. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Needless to say, the toll his cursed technique was taking on his body and, more importantly, on his mind was painful to witness. There were times when he would keep the distance, isolating himself so his vulnerable side would remain unknown. A couple of days later he would come back to his usual self, as if nothing happened. Everyone was used to this rare occurence, respecting his space and his choices. After all, who were they to question master Geto's actions? But it always bothered you.

Whenever the sickening taste of curses would become overwhelming and his entire soul would feel like an abandoned landfill, Geto would try to find comfort and pleasure in distractions that could help him cope, keep him one step away from the edge until he would rebuild his strength again. Soon enough, such a distraction was the thought of you, or, to be more specific, the thought of things he would do to you. The idea of corrupting those innocent, honest eyes which trusted him too much. He was almost sure you've never been with a man before, and this detail only made the thought of tainting you with his touch even more pleasing. Geto's soul was damned to be the abyss that trapped curses while yours was so empty, so peaceful, so quiet. Perhaps this was the only thin string of common sense that held him back from unleashing all his urges upon you. If he did bring ruin to your serenity, what was left for him to cling to? Everything you knew about the world, about jujutsu, it was all throgh his lens. Your convictions, your ideals, your motivation they were all his. Your loyalty to him was unbreakable, but wasn't it really his merit? If he did, after all, choose to ravage the holy garden and taste the fruit, wouldn't it also destroy the unsullied image of him in your eyes?

These thoughts were harder to resist whenever you cluelessly insisted on being next to Geto even when he pushed you away. You were knocking at his locked door, telling him you prepared some tea.

The tea is fucking useless.

The real medicine for his nerves, for his fatigue, for his dark thoughts was you. Only you. He would drink all the tea in the world just to have you sitting next to him, talking about nothing in particular. Geto used to think that your relationship dynamic is unchangeable. He was playing god, building the world around you, while you cluelessly looked up to him, not guessing even a fraction of his thoughts or intentions. He was superior in every sense. Then why did he feel so vulnerable when you knocked on his door, spoke his name so respectfully? Why was it so hard for him to control himself, send you away like all the times before?

Maybe this was what addiction felt like. Or  was that tea really poisonous? Alone in his dark room, only a dim light creeping in from outside, Geto realized that maybe the dynamic you had changed. He changed. You gave him small bites of your presence, quick sips of your warmth every day until he found himself addicted. How could he send you away when you were the last remedy he could use to cope?

"Geto-sama?" You asked again when no sound came from inside his room.

"Come in." His voice was languid, reverberating in your brain like a lustful invitation. No, he was feeling sick. You were too caught up in your own desires while he was having a hard time.

His room was dark, unlike the brightly lighted hallway. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the change, but the first thing you noticed was the mass of long hair shining in the dim light. It was so captivating how in the bright light of the sun it was a dark shade absorbing everything, while in the soft night light it was almost glimmering, so luscious and silky.

"I don't feel like drinking tea tonight." His voice filled the room, soft and vulnerable, and it almost made you think he was hurt. So you put down the tray on the floor, your eyes still unable to spot the table exactly, and hurried to his side, to the light coming in through the window.

"Are you alright, Geto-sama?" You asked, voice full of worry, as you placed a hand flat on his forehead. His hair was beautifully unkempt and you pushed some strands away to see his face better. But as soon as he raised his eyes to look at you a shiver ran down your spine and you took your hand away swiftly.

He successfully tricked you. Contrary to his frail voice and his lethargic posture on the bed, his eyes were sharp, full of energy and piercing right through you. You felt threatened, although it was the same Geto you admired and served, the same Geto who taught you how to fight curses, how to defend yourself. But how could you defend yourself from him?

"I'm sorry if my presence is not as neat as you're used to." He said. He was still wearing the usual kesa and you wondered how much of his identity really resided in the religious facade. You wanted to see past that.

"Are you in pain?" You asked. He looked like a wounded animal, one that could still do you harm even in this state.

"Yes." He said, but nothing about the way he looked at you seemed to signal that he was in need of help. Instead, he was luring you in.

"How does it feel?" You slowly approached him again and sat down by his side. His back was resting against the wall and he watched you with a certain amused look. How foolish could you be?

"Like you felt when you first came to me." Geto answered, his eyes glued to yours. "Only that all those curses are inside me."

"Is this why you helped me?"

It was painfully ironic how, despite of how smart he thought he was, you delivered the answer so effortlessly.

"For the most part, yeah." He admitted. The rest of the reason was blatantly reflected in his eyes that were eating you alive as he spoke.

"Let me help you." You breathed out, without thinking. There was no logical reasoning in your brain. You natutally felt it in your body that you had what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him. "If I could take only a fraction of your torment away it would be worth it."

"How would you do that?" He asked, noticing how you leaned in and your hand touched his in a seemingly platonic attempt to comfort. But there was nothing platonic about the way you looked at him.

"Show me how curses taste." You breathed out.

For a moment, Geto was taken by surprise by your bluntness. What if you really could feel the sickening taste of curses on his lips? Would it make you turn back in disgust? Would it shatter the perfect image he built for himself inside your mind?

You didn't give him any more time to think. You simply stood up in front of him and pulled at the hems of your shirt, taking it off. Geto's eyes followed your every move in the dark, noticing the round contour of your breasts and the white lace of your bra. All his focus, his control, was gone. He was looking at you wide eyed, his pupils devouring every inch of your body as your fingers unclasped the bra in the front. He felt his mouth water, a primal hunger sparking alive inside his soul when your tits bounced free as you discarded the bra on the floor. You were offering yourself to him like a tribute, like a sacrifice to the gods. His train of thought was broken off, all the confusion and tumult in his mind completely turned off by the feeling of your lips on top of his. For a moment he remained frozen, the shadow of doubt still lingering, waiting for you to break away in repulsion. But you didn't. Instead, you placed your hand on his cheek, pressing your body closer to his. It was the last hint he needed.

Geto's hungry lips moved along with yours, easily taking control. You moaned in discomfort when his body shifted, pressing you down on the bed in an uncomfortable position, his lips never breaking off from yours. The feeling of his weight on top of you, his hair falling over his shoulders, brushing against your skin felt oddly familiar and, while you struggled to find a more comfortable position under him, you realized it felt just like the times you would fight. It was the same tension, the same blood rushing in your veins in excitement, the same anticipation for what would come next. Except that now you were taking it one step further.

To Geto, right now, you had only one purpose. His pleasure. Altough his hands touched you greedily, your flesh kneaded under his palms so roughly yet so satisfying, and his mouth moved to your neck to suck and bite every spot he found, earning soft moans of pleasure from you, it was all for himself. He was drunk on the taste of you. So desperate to forget everything else, eager to taste only you on his lips, forever. Your flesh was so soft, so sweet, so addicting. You were soaking wet already by the time his tongue ran circles around your sensitive nipple, rubbing your thighs together under your skirt. Both your hands were buried in his hair, pushing it away from his face while he couldn't be bothered with anything else but your flesh. You could also feel it, how selfish, how insatiable he was. Your pleasure was only a fortunate side effect, a convenient occurance. Between soft whimpers and muffled sounds of sucking and licking on your skin, you realized that he didn't care. His chaotic movements, his bites that were getting deeper and deeper everytime he sank his teeth into the soft tissue of your breast, his uncontrollable groans as he devoured you, it was all for himself. You were no different than the curses he was swallowing for later use. He would eat you alive if he could.

By the time he had your skirt pulled up, your panties discarded somewhere in the dark, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your thigh, it was too late. If there was a chance you could stop him before, check on him, try to get him to slow down a little, when his tongue first touched your wet and sensitive core it was already too late.

You gasped for air, your grip on his hair tightening as his tongue ran between your folds, running circles over your throbbing clit. He was eating you out with an aching thirst, sloppy and loudly, the only thing covering the dirty wet sounds of his tongue drenched in your juices being your own moans, significantly louder than before. He had your legs over his shoulders, his arms keeping your legs spread apart while his face was burried between them. He had you arching your back, dark strands of his hair falling from between your trembling fingers as his tongue dived inside you, his nose nuzzling up against your clit.

Your taste, your smell, your everything was numbing all his other senses, his mind blank, asleep, thoughtless. The only thing driving him, dictating every turn of his tongue, every press of his lips was the unquenchable thirst to eat you, consume you. Something inside his blood, his bones, his soul dictated that the pitch black abyss where he kept all the curses he ever swallowed could be obliterated by you.

"So sweet for me."

It didn't take much before his tongue got you close to the edge, your orgasm only a few touches away as your toes curled and your muscles tightened, although his arms kept your legs pushed apart. He didn't care at all if anyone heard your filthy moans or the sound of his name echoing from inside his room. You were loud enough, even louder than ever as you came, the peak of pleasure washing over you.

But soon, pleasure turned to pain as Geto kept the same hungry rhythm, continuing to eat you out with the same determination like he didn't even notice your orgasm.

"So fucking sweet."

He couldn't have missed it, his name reverberating in the silent room like a fervent prayer, your thighs tightening under his touch, your hands pulling at his hair. He didn't care. He was doing it for himself, eating you out for his own pleasure. Moreover, his effort only intesified as you fought to push him away. The more you struggled to get his face away from your overstimulated pussy, the faster his tongue moved. You cried out his name again, this time in pain, begging him to stop. You tried pushing your legs together, fighting to break free. Your hands tried pushing his head away. The back of your heels hit his back, your legs trying to force him away. You begged, implored him to stop as tears rolled down your face. But he had your hips tightly pressed on the mattress, arms forcing your thighs apart. Once again, you felt exactly like the the times he would train you. So easily defeated. So helpless.

"Ge-geto... sa-ah-ma." You begged between cries, your salty tears falling uncontrollably like the first day when you came to him. "No more... ple-please." He pushed one of your legs with his elbows, his palm pressing firmly on your lower belly, forcing your convulsions to stop.

"Shut up or I'll have you chained up." He found the time to growl, even the feeling of his breath against your painfully overstimulated clit making you cry out.

His warning meant nothing compared to your discomfort, but your second orgasm started building up shortly. Your struggle died down and your hands were pulling him closer again, nails digging into his shoulders. A wet pool of your fluids and his saliva mixed together was dripping off your skin on the sheets as your body shook again, more violently than the previous time. He seemed to have had enough, at least for the moment, because he let you go, your legs desperately pressed together as you rolled on your side, whole body trembling, heavy breathing, every cell of your body exploding with raw pleasure.

You didn't know for how much time you simply laid there, your mind hazy from the overstimulation, your body exhausted from both pleasure and pain. It could have been five minutes or as much as the whole night that had passed when you finally became aware of Geto's eyes fixed on your body.

But the thing that really made you snap out of your lifelessness was his voice calling out your name. Your own name, for the first time. Almost as if he learned it only after having your taste left on his lips.

"You're a blessing." Geto breathed out as the strain in his jaw was slowly creeping in. You didn't say anything in return. There was nothing to say to those intoxicated eyes. Those swollen lips still covered in your juices. His tongue ran over them, collecting the last remains of your juices. But the pain in his voice was gone. Although bewildered and curious, he seemed to have regained his energy, rediscovered a reason to live.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you again, his lips offering soft kisses along your leg, upwards to your hips. He seemed more collected, more in control of his instincts as he put the minimal pressure on your skin with every kiss until he reached your lips again. Your hands pulled at his clothes, the desire to see him naked like he saw you taking over. He chuckled, giving in to your petty efforts.

"Please, Geto-sama." You said. "Let me satisfy your needs."

He smiled, that patronizing smile of satisfaction.

"You can try."

《previous Ascension | next》 The Hunt |True Form!Sukuna x Reader Sukuna x Reader

[thatsatricky1]

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || ‘𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧’ Chapter I

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, abandonment, cursing, mild fighting, talk of possible hallucination, tension.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,5k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

Taking in a crisp breath of air never felt so fresh to her. Even after a year out of her personal hell every breath she took felt as if she was breathing freely for the first time all over again, not taking any second for granted.

Just like any day she took in her surroundings with sharp calculated eyes only relaxing when everything seemed perfectly in order, not feeling the burning stare of those she was constantly on the run from, when you escape, you never truly escape. Hunted down like a dog until they finally give up hope.

Y/n looked around her differently now that she felt safe gazing at the bustling crowd going about their days, no one paying attention to her too focused on their own lives. How it should be.

South Korea, Seoul. Her current destination. She’d arrived exactly one hour ago and was now taking her time to take in the scenery, deciding to enjoy the sight in front of her before getting down to business. The true reason for her coming to the heavily populated area.

Either the dumbest place to hide seeing as it had eyes everywhere or the smartest place to hide from how many people were there to begin with. It went both ways. Her intentions were to find seven people that would no doubt be all together. It had taken her a year to search for them but she’d located them in Seoul from whatever hints she could find, now all she needed to do was find out where in Seoul they were.

She craved for answers, but not just that. She wanted them to see her, show them just how capable she was, how much she’d changed in the span of two years. What she’d become.

With a low hum her eyes met the sight of an aesthetic cafe, then again every store here in Seoul had its own aesthetic, something she hadn’t cared for in the past but now wanted to enjoy the little things she couldn’t in the past. Seoul stores were all aesthetic but clashed in how they looked next to each other.

Crossing the street to get to the cafe she opened the door, her ears picking up the sound of the doorbell clinging as she went. Not wasting time walking over to the cafe’s counter quickly catching the vibe of the cafe to be a soft and cozy area, not many people there. Perfect.

Her lips automatically slipped on a smile as she approached the counter, a young man in his early twenties like herself looking up at her with his own smile.

“Hello, welcome to Atiny, where our coffee is freshly grinded by us and served with extra care. What can I get for you today?” The man spoke casually, a smile never leaving his face as he gazed at her, taking her in speaking as if he’d said the line a million times. Something Y/n thought must have been true.

He was tall, having dyed his hair freshly silver, wearing comfortable clothing with a beige apron on with a sand timer glass as the logo on it. A sweet vibe coming from the man as if to say this place was safe. Though Y/n knew better than to think anywhere was safe.

“Hello I’m not usually in this area of Seoul often so I’m not quite sure what to order. Do you have any recommendations.” She swiftly asked, her smile softening as she tilted her head in question looking up at the worker.

“Well since it’s my shift I’d recommend either what everyone orders here which is of course an Iced Americano or the drink I make very well, a warm caramel macchiato. If you’re looking to also eat something I suggest the strawberry muffins, Wooyoung just finished baking them so they’re still warm and very fresh.”

The man spoke casually with his comforting vibe listing off some items they had available while trying to keep the conversation light and somewhat humorous.

“Well…” Y/n started off, eyes flickering to the man’s name badge before looking back up into his eyes “Yuhno, I would like a warm caramel macchiato with a strawberry muffin for here please.”

“Great choice, I’ll get it ready for you. Would you like to pay here first or at your table after finishing?”

“I’ll pay now.” Her response was just as fast as his was, not wasting time as her nimble fingers pulled her wallet out of her jacket opening it up.

”Sure thing, that is 7.25. Cash or c- ah alright.” Yuhno cutting off his own sentence watching her hold out a tener. Moving to take it hand brushing past hers noting how soft it was yet in a strange way hard, as if she’d worked a lot.

“Thank you Yuhno, keep the change for yourself or the tip jar, I’ll go find my seat.” Y/n spoke up before he could start handing her the change turning around to find herself a spot to sit.

Yuhno stood there for a second change in hand as he watched her walk across the cafe, eyes taking in her green dyed hair. Not an unusual sight for Seoul as many dyed their hair. Himself included. Not to mention one of his close friends and work colleagues had green hair too.

Clumsily putting the change in the tip jar once he noticed she’d found a spot in the corner booth and their eyes met, moving to grab one of the many clean mugs to start preparing her order.

Y/n watched with a small amused smile before turning to look out the window, quickly getting lost in thought. Her smile slipped from her lips as it usually did in these moments.

Eyes searching the crowd for familiar faces, none welcoming but came up empty. They most likely looked the same, maybe different haircuts and clothing style would be a given style change considering the clothing style they’d left in two years ago would send curious glances their way.

Before she felt lost, missed them even. But now her feelings on them had changed, the two years alone, isolated away from them had changed her perspective on them quite a lot. Of course there was a big factor as to why.

‘They left me’

The thought, consistent throughout the two years and still was there and her main focus and thought when it came to them. Whatever close bond they’d developed from not just surviving day for day together but because of their natural bond was gone, long gone.

“I hate to interrupt whatever has you lost in thought, but I wouldn’t want your drink getting cold.”

Yunho’s voice had snapped her back to reality, having to force herself not to react wrongly letting her body continue its relaxed posture, willing her muscles to not tense as she looked up at the young man who held her order on a tray. Silently scolding herself for being so off guard she hadn’t even noticed his presence.

A smile slipping back onto her face as she gave a nod thanking him quietly as he placed her coffee and muffin on the table. Though he lingered by her side before deciding to do something he normally wouldn’t do with customers. Yunho slipped into the other side of the booth facing her.

“Ah, I may not be familiar with the customs here in this part of Seoul but I’m sure that company from the cafe is not a part of your job with customers.” Y/n points out but her smile didn’t leave her face to show she meant no harm by her words.

“You’re right about that, but I couldn’t help but notice you seemed lost in thought. Not particularly good thoughts either. Plus you’re the only customer we have right now.” Yuhno awkwardly explained his hand automatically going to his neck rubbing it with a sheepish smile.

“Well, you’re right too. But instead of dwelling on the thoughts I’ll try to enjoy this instead. Though I wouldn’t mind the company.” She replied, keeping the warm conversation going as she gestured to her coffee and muffin.

Yuhno nods as he watches her pick up the coffee curious at her reaction as she closes her eyes for a split second taking in the smell of it before blowing cautiously on the caffeinated drink and finally taking a sip. He didn’t know he was holding his breath until she opened her eyes letting out a satisfied hum indicating the drink had been prepared well.

“I didn’t expect anything else, it tastes good.” Y/n complimented Yuhno while taking a longer sip of the drink enjoying how it warmed her from the inside.

“That’s great to hear.” Yuhno spoke giddily before coughing at his overexcited reaction shifting in his seat, coming up with a question off the top of his head on the spot “So, why are you in this part of Seoul if it’s somewhere you don’t come often?”

Y/n eyes that had gazed at her drink flew upwards to gaze at Yunho, to him it looked like any normal gaze but in actual fact it was her calculating the question, analyzing his words.

“Just meeting some… old friends that I haven’t seen in a while.” She casually stated testing the waters.

Yuhno hummed at her words leaning back in the leather brown booth seat hand absentminded fiddling with the sweet table cloth.

“It must be nice visiting old friends. I hope it goes well.” Yuhno replied with a genuine smile wondering what her friends were like.

“Hm, I’m sure it’ll go exactly how I think it will.” Y/n spoke. Yuhno nodded, understanding her statement completely differently than the double meaning she’d truly meant.

“Oh right, I never got your name.” Yuhno spoke up leaning forward slightly.

“My name? How about I tell you that next time?” She responded in a light joking manner, not wanting to give out her name so easily, nothing was safe.

“Another time? So you’ll be back?” Yuhno asked with a tilt of his head curious but somewhere inside him he felt hope light up at the thought of the green haired woman becoming a regular at the cafe.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be around here, but I’ll most likely visit this cafe a few more times, it's a gem here.” Her words flowed easily as Yunho looked down with a pleased smile.

Walking down the street, Y/n held her posture well, head up slipping past people left and right in the overcrowded as ever city. Making her way towards a crossing standing on one side waiting for the light to turn green, stilling at the edge of the pathway.

Her gaze forward as she watched the light, eyes drifting noticing it wouldn’t be changing soon, deciding to look wherever her eyes gazed during the wait. A flash of pink catching her eyes.

Her focus zoning on the figure, her hand by her side tightening into a fist as she took in the person. She’d been right, different styling but the same face, maybe only slightly more matured.

The coincidence of finding one of seven in the busy city was a slim low chance but it had happened as if the universe always tugged them back together. This just made it so much easier in locating them.

His gaze was unfocused as if lost in thought. How funny. The boy, now a man on the other side of a road crossing, seemed to not worry, as if he was free. The thought only caused her fist to impossibly tight by her side.

The beeping of the crosswalk turning green signaling for the pedestrians to cross had caused the pink haired man to look forward seemingly out of his dazed thoughts. Though his footing stuttered not being able to move forward at the sight in front of him.

As others started walking past himself he watched the other side where others did exactly that as well, all but one. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, he’d done so in the past feeling as if in the corner of his eye he’d seen her here and there before but never like this. Not directly in front of him. The sight stealing his breath away.

She looked exactly like her. Though more matured, more held together. Green hair and a different styling choice, but it was still her. Catching her gaze. His stomach tightening not being able to move much like how she too had yet to move.

Y/n had caught his eye, it was obvious by the way he hadn’t moved a muscle. Not walking in her direction like others. So she made the first move, a slight tilt of her head as she gazed at him. The small action seemingly kicked him into taking one stop onto the crossroad.

But that was enough of a reaction for her. As she easily slipped back into the crowd like a shadow not crossing the road and instead disappearing with the crowd that had come opposite the crossing walk she’d originally planned to cross.

“Wait!” He yelled out eyes widening as he seemingly lost sight of her in a split second, his body properly propelling him forward now out of desperation as he moved across the crosswalk at a fast pace, eyes scanning desperately.

His feet passed onto the pathway now just as the crossing turned red. His body turned in every direction as he searched the crowds around him internally cursing at the heavily dense population of Seoul for once.

He had been so close, if he had of just crossed instead of staring dumbly he could have seen her up close, talked to her, touched her. To know she was really there and not just his mind playing tricks on him.

“Please come back.” He spoke to himself, desperate to believe it was her.

Jeno’s body finally stilling as he gazed at the crowd around him, before letting his head drop in defeat.

Oblivious to the gaze on his side profile inside an antique shop. Y/n stood there watching him. Knowing fully well she wouldn’t be satisfied with just making contact with Jeno.

No, she wanted them all in front of her when she met them properly. Her face that had been void of emotion, though slowly her lips slowly ticked up at one corner in a sort of satisfied way at how he had gazed at her. It was as if a ghost of the past had passed across his vision.

Eye’s trailing over his figure but stuck to one thing in particular, an ironed on badge that said ‘Glitch Mode’ on his bag, her eyebrow raising at this before turning to walk further into the store hidden away from sight.

Sitting down at an internet cafe wasn’t particularly something she liked doing seeing as it had taken her a year to catch up on technology, but now she knew what she was doing.

The search engine splayed across her screen from where she sat in the gaming chair, hand hovering over the keyboard in thought. Her fingers decided for her as they typed out the words still stuck in her head from just a few hours ago.

‘Glitch mode’

The first result was a place in Seoul that came up on the search engine. Her hand moving to the mouse clicking on the first result to be brought to the webpage. Instinctively leaning forward in her chair to get a closer look as she scrolled.

It was an arcade. Though mixed from retro games all the way to its very own new styled gaming station with Pc’s and all the like. Y/n wondering why he had an ironed badge on his bag with the logo.

Though her hand scrolling on the webpage stilled at one particular area of the site eyeing the paragraph.

‘Glitch Mode was created for the youth to be able to enjoy their time away from the responsibilities casted on them by society, a safe place for people to enjoy their time. For teenagers to adults up to their early thirties. A place designed and made by seven individuelles in hopes of creating a new environment for younger people to not only thrive but have a place to be themselves without the prejudice of the system we live in today.’

“Hidden in plain sight, what a bold move. How haven’t you been discovered yet?” Y/n whispered to herself.

“Glitch mode? It’s great there, better than these internet cafes but they always close up early on Thursdays and Fridays.” A voice spoke from beside her.

“They’re closed early today and tomorrow?” Y/n asked moving to look to her left at the person sitting beside her in their own gaming chair.

“Yeah, ever since they opened up last year they’ve been in big competition with places like internet cafes. Usually here and other places are empty when Glitch Mode is open or filled with more older people here.” The young man explained.

“Thank you for the information…” Y/n started to thank the random stranger but stalled not knowing their name, something they caught onto as they moved they dipped their head in a small bow.

“Jung Wooyoung.” Wooyoung introduced himself, causing Y/n to let out a hum at the familiar name she’d already heard from a certain barista this morning.

“Well thank you Wooyoung for the information. I have to go. Enjoy your time here.” She thanked him with a smile getting up after closing the browser search engine.

Wooyoung’s eyes following her action looking upwards once she was standing even when she turned to leave but stilled turning back to give Wooyoung a teasing smile.

“Your strawberry muffins are quite delicious, I can’t wait to taste them again another day.” With that she turned away, moving towards the exit.

Wooyoung staring dumbfounded at the spot she once was in. He’d baked fresh strawberry muffins for the cafe today but how did she know that? Shaking his head away from the thoughts when he heard his phone buzzing with a call.

Pulling the phone up to his ear, shoulders relaxing letting a smile grace his lips once again as Yuhno’s voice came out the other end rambling about a green haired girl who’d visited their cafe today.

“Oh by the way she never had a strawberry muffin before, but she was sure nothing would beat that one you made. She basically said your muffins were delicious Woo.”

“Yeah I know.” Was Wooyoung’s response as he glanced at the empty chair beside him in amusement now getting it, Yunho must have said his name when she’d been there.

“What’s the point of putting a calendar in the watch party room? No one is going to be wondering what day it is while watching movies with their friends, besides the room is bright yellow, and that calendar is literally a white base with blue and black.”

Chenle all but whined out from where he sat lounging on the yellow couch legs propped up on the table.

“Because something else needed to be hung up on these walls, plus the dark blue tilling at the bottom of the room matches well with the calendar now shut up.” Renjun retorted from where he leaned against the edge of the doorway frame.

“We can always swap it out for something else some other time.” Jisung chimed in after hanging the calendar up against the nail in the wall he’d just hammered.

“If we’d just put a poster up we would have avoided the whole hammering a hole into the wall, you know we have to plaster that up if we put away the calendar.” Chenle continued whining, obviously still not convinced.

“We could hide the hole with a poster instead.” Jisung offered up a not so long term idea for the hole in the wall problem if it came up.

Renjun was about to throw the nearest object beside him at the two but before he could the three turned to look in the direction of where they heard a door slamming open and shut.

“Jeno’s back.” Chenle pointed out, letting out a whine at Jisung pushing his legs off the table before following the two out of the watching room to investigate Jeno’s loud arrival together.

Jeno made his way back to the store walking in at a rushed pace, frustrated with the fact he was seeing her now in front of him rather than just the corner of his eye. Y/n was not there yet his mind continuously ate away at him.

“I’d ask who pissed in your cereal this morning, but I cooked fried eggs this morning.” Jaemin pointed out watching Jeno’s entrance coming into the staff room. From where he sat beside Donghyuck, the two passed each other an old retro game boy every time one of them failed a level.

“Just ask him who pissed on his eggs then instead.” Donghyuck piped in though his gaze was glued to the retro game boy, fingers intensely moving around to win the level so he didn’t need to pass it back over to Jaemin.

“I’m not in the mood.” Jeno gritted out through clenched teeth, his hand flying up to his pink stained hair tugging at it.

The two looking up at this, Donghyuck who’d normally whine hearing the game losing theme sound stayed quiet in favour of watching his pink haired friend.

“You saw her again in the corner of your eye?” Jaemin asked out softly, his hand moving to absentmindedly fiddle with his piercings against his ear at the slight thought of her. She’s always wanted piercings.

This caught the attention of Mark who’d been sitting at the desk finishing up some leftover paperwork.

“No… not like that. I swear I saw her, right in front of me. On the other side of the crosswalk. But then when I finally moved towards her it was like she just… just disappeared into the crowd.” Jeno stressed out moving towards where the two were sitting on the comfy worn out blue couch.

“Pretty sure she can’t just disappear in front of your eyes. It was probably just your mind playing tricks on you.” Renjun spoke as the three entered the staff room now two having heard him.

“No you don’t get it. It had to be her. Her face was the same, just a little more mature. She wasn’t wearing the uniform and her hair… It looked freshly dyed. Green it was green.” Jeno tried describing what she’d looked like. Everyone tensed up at the mention of their past uniforms they’d been forced to wear day in day out.

“Jeno, when was the last time you slept?” Mark spoke up for the first time in the conversation, his voice only hinting at concern from where he sat at the desk, paperwork long forgotten now.

“That doesn’t matter right now Mark. I saw her.” Jeno shook his head in distaste for what Mark was trying to do. He was using his lack of sleep against him as some form of evidence that he’d seen wrong.

“Mark’s right. This has happened before Jeno. When you have long periods of time without rest you start seeing her.” Jaemin pointed out trying to dull down the small hope that flickered in his chest at the thought of her managing to escape.

“No, not you too. Look, yes I haven’t slept in a while but this is different. It’s different this time and I know it was her. She looked so…” Jeno stopped defending himself in favour of rubbing his hand down his face. Struggling to find the words he was looking for to describe Y/n.

“It looked as if she saw right through me, I know for a fact that’s impossible she’d recognise me in a heartbeat no matter how different I look just how I recognised her.” He continued on hand returning to run through his hair, evident of stress in his actions.

“If it really was her. She would have approached you Jeno. Y/n… she’s not here.” Donghyuck denied his words, hands clenching hard around the retro game boy. Silence enveloping the room.

All seven wished she was in fact here in Seoul. But the most likely option was that she was still stuck at the facility. Alone. Being tested on like a lab rat. The one who didn’t get away, who did not escape.

“And if it was her? We just sit here? Let her walk around Seoul alone?” Jeno asked out, the slim chance of it being her.

“Stop. Just stop Jeno. She’s still stuck in that goddamn facility doing god only knows what to her. You don’t get to go around talking to us, giving us hope she’s out. Not when you’re the first one who decided we needed to leave without her.” Jaemin bursted, voice full of anger as he stood up now making his way towards his friend.

Though Jeno beat him to it cross the room to grab at Jaemin’s black vest tugging him harshly, fists tight against the material.

“Shut up. You know nothing! I tried to wait. If we had waited any longer none of us would have been able to leave that hell hole. If I hadn't spoken up we would all still be there being poked, proded, beaten and tested on.” Jeno nearly growled into Jaemin’s face.

“Enough!” Mark all but yelled out clearly frustrated as much as the others swiftly making his way over hand placed on top of Jeno’s giving him a stern look. Jeno not giving in, hands still tight against Jaemin’s clothing.

“Don’t forget Jaemin I may have said it, but we all were thinking it. We were desperate. In the end we all made the choice.” His voice, still loud but no longer held as much anger.

Jaemin stared Jeno down for a few seconds before looking away, choosing wisely to keep quiet on his words. His stomach was tightening with guilt, one he’d carried for two years now. One they all carried.

Jeno held back a scoff from Jaemin’s silence letting go of him but didn’t give anyone the chance to speak again as he stormed out of the room.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll bring him back to the apartment and try to get him to sleep.” Renjun offered, patting both Jaemin and Mark on the shoulders as he went past and through the doorway following their pink haired friend.

“What about the calendar?” Chenle called out, causing everyone to look over at him.

“It stays up!” Renjun called back out loudly.

“Not the time Chenle.” Mark told him off lightly, shaking his head as he made his way over towards the desk again.

“When will it ever be the time? I still think we should get rid of the-” Chenle tried to continue his ideas but Jisung shoved him down against the blue couch and layed on top of him, cutting him off.

“Not the time.” Jisung butted in but let out a choked noise when Chenle wrapped his arm around Jisungs throat and the other hand went to Jisung’s head aggressively messing up his hair.

The two, messing around now on the couch, a leg flying out causing Donghyuck to duck, now focused on playing the level on his retro game boy again. Jaemin watched them but wasn’t in the mood to mess around or play games, deciding to make his way over to where Mark was.

Watching his friend continue the paperwork briefly before gazing over at the monitor next to them on the desk that monitored all the security cameras around. About to look away until something caught his eye.

Moving to sit beside Mark on the other gaming chair leaning forward, eyes squinting slightly at the monitor. Specifically on the back exit camera. Shifting in his seat when he was sure what he was seeing, a hooded figure standing there perfectly in frame. As if wanting to be caught on camera on purpose.

“You okay Jaemin?” Mark’s question caused Jaemin to whip his head towards Mark blinking dumbly for a second before nodding as he stood up.

“Uh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just gonna start locking up. I think it’s a good idea for us all to get out early today.” Jaemin thought up on the spot.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I think we should make it a long weekend too. Keep closed tomorrow and reopen on Monday.” Mark decided thinking all of them needed a small break.

“Yeah great, I’ll be back soon.” Jaemin rushed his words out, turning towards the door to make his way towards the back exit.

Mark watched, his eyebrows scrunching slightly at Jaemin’s hasty exit but chalked it up to him just wanting to leave after what happened with Jeno a few minutes ago. His attention turned to the three left once he heard a thump, Chenle and Jisung now rolling on the floor together.

Mark letting his eyes shut inhaling through his nose trying to have one moment of peace before he’d have to try and break up whatever the two were bickering about now.

Jaemin made his way towards the back, slipping through the side door quietly, eye’s trying to focus on the new darkness surrounding him as it was night now and dark compared to previously inside.

The figure was still there standing still. Jaemin rolled his shoulders back as he spoke loud enough for the hooded figure to hear.

“Who are you? We are closed as of current. Tomorrow as well, come back on Monday during our normal opening hours.”

The figure turned towards him, yet because of the setting it was too dark to see the face that was hidden behind the hood the figure wore. His eyes squinted once again to try making out any detail.

“Do you understand what I just said?” Jaemin asked out yet the figure stayed silent causing warning bells to go off in his head. He’d hoped it was just some teenager due to the height of the person but now all he could think about was the fact the facility could be closer to them then he thought.

Before he could question further the figure finally did something. They turned around to face away from him. Taking a second to start walking away. Jaemin staying still watching the figure slowly leave cautiously wondering why they hadn’t responded and took their time to watch him before taking their leave.

As the figure went to turn the corner they walked under a street light, a small piece of hair sticking out of their hoodie being caught by the light. Green. It was green.

Jaemin’s heart dropped to his stomach connecting the dots fast as he remembered Jeno’s rambling from earlier.

“Wait! Y/n!” He yelled out, his tone bordering desperation.

The figure stalling for a millisecond in their walk but it was enough for him. It was enough for the hope to reignite in him as his body moved, shoes hitting the pavement underneath him heavily to chance her.

Y/n hearing his footsteps easily, racing past the corner as quick as she could causing him to call out once more. Skidding past the corner himself too, stopping in confusion once he came up blank. No one nearby.

“No.” Jaemin whispered hands going up to his head before shaking it off racing down the street taking a few turns that his gut wanted him to take. Almost deciding to stop the chase until he caught a hooded figure pass into an alley. Jaemin racing in the direction once again.

Entering the alley he stopped at the sight in front of him. The hooded figure taking a leap at the fire stairway that was suspended a few feet up in the air. Their hands catching the bottom of the metal ladder pulling their weight upwards.

“Just wait!” Jaemin yelled out making his way towards the ladder attempting to grab at it only to curse out when a boot made contact with his hand preventing him from climbing up with them.

Jaemin’s body fell down onto the dirty alleyway floor as he looked upwards watching the figure climb further up the ladder before disappearing over the ledge of the building's roof.

His hand moving to cradle his other injured hand, the hit wasn’t anything to worry about and would be fine by morning. His gaze lingered in the last spot he’d seen the figure, jaw clenching. He knew he had not been sleeping well either, just like Jeno, but this couldn’t have been a hallucination.

He didn’t want it to be a part of his mind playing tricks on him.

A few buildings was all that Y/n thought was enough to be deemed a safe distance away. Taking a few steady breaths in as she slowly pulled her hoodie down. Her breath catching in her throat, not from being winded from the sudden running but having seen his face.

Na Jaemin even in just two years had matured, taller and looked healthy.

“You’re closed tomorrow on a Friday? Good. I’ll see you soon boys.” Y/n spoke to herself eyes sharp, face highlighted from Seoul’s lights in the city at night, neon green shining against her.

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u

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[ramblers-lets-get-ramblin]

When My Time Comes Around- Part Three

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You and Joel heal from the trauma of the last twenty years. We find out what the next twenty have in store for you.

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Warnings: SMUT! unprotected PIV, oral sex m!receiving, pregnancy and childbirth but not super detailed, major character death, grief, child loss

Immersability: Reader can get pregnant/ give birth

Author’s Notes: A HUGE THANK YOU to @wannab-urs. if it wasn't for you this fic wouldn't exist. Thank you for letting me yell about this to you and I'm (kinda) sorry it made you cry so much.

Thank you to everyone who read, commented or reblogged this story. It is so special to me and your support and love for it means the world to me. I know it isn't the easiest read so it really means a lot that you all stuck around. To reward you: Have a disgustingly sweet and fluffy happy ever after! I love you all!

Having Joel around the farm, fully healed, makes you realize that you weren’t handling things as well by yourself as you had previously thought. The first item on his to do list, the one he made for himself, was to repair the roof. “How are you so good at this?” You ask him. You are standing on the roof, handing him nails from a box. You suspect the tool bags hanging from his waist would have held the nails at least as well as you, but this way he gets to spend time with you. It was quite a shock to your system, having him around. You spent sixteen years in near complete solitude, and the five years before that were spent with people you had known your entire life. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night with Joel’s arms wrapped around you and your first instinct is fear. Who is this? How did they get here? When that happens, Joel just squeezes you tighter and whispers in your ear.

“It’s okay, baby.” He says. “It’s just me. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He promises. And you believe him. You let his words and his arms lull you back to sleep. 

It’s been six months since you found Joel dying in the snow. Six months since you told him about the deaths of your family. He tried to leave you that night and you somehow ended up in bed together, the same way you have every night since. Joel still hasn’t opened up anymore about his daughter, Ellie. “She died.” Is all the explanation you got. You didn’t press, the same way he never pushed you. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. He doesn’t seem that interested in talking much about his past.  Every question you ask is met with a grunt or another question. 

Joel looks at you sometimes like he’s trying to figure out if you’re real. He holds onto you so tightly, as if you might float away without him anchoring you to the ground. Whatever has happened to him has traumatized him so badly that he can barely stand to let you out of his sight. You tried to tell him that the daily chores would go by faster if the two of you split up but he wouldn’t hear any of that. “I like doin’ ‘em with you.” He’d said. Then he busied himself removing your clothes. He was good at that. Distracting you with his hands, his fingers, his mouth. And who were you to argue? You hadn’t expected to ever have anything like this again, much less something this good. Not that you had a lot to compare him to. You’d only ever been with Danny. But Joel was a master at taking you apart, piece by piece, and putting you back together. You don’t think there’s a room in this house that he hasn’t fucked you in. But his favorite place, and yours, is on the rug in front of the fireplace. The only sounds to be heard are the crackling of the roaring fire and the wet slap of skin on skin. 

It takes Joel another six months before he finally tells you about his past. How Ellie died, about his first daughter, Sarah, and her death. It takes him a little longer to open up about the rest of it. Tommy, Marlene, Tess. He doesn’t dump it all on you at once, just drops little snippets here and there. He’s chopping wood for winter when he tells you about the circumstances that led to you finding him bleeding out into a ditch. You could feel his hesitancy to show you the darker parts of his soul. The part of his heart that turned him into the man who slaughtered an entire building full of Fireflies. How the loss of his daughters turned him into a mean drunk who blamed the only family he had left and pushed him out of his life, probably forever. He swung his ax as he told you, the pile of firewood growing larger every moment. You think he must have needed to be busy while he did, so that he wouldn’t flee like he probably wanted to. It takes him longer than it ever has for him to meet your eyes again. When he does, he looks like he’s about to vomit. You stand from the stump you are sitting on and walk over to him. When you reach out to comfort him, he flinches away from your touch. “Joel?” You ask, tentatively reaching for him again. He allows you to wrap your hand around his bicep, but his gaze has returned to the ground. “What’s wrong?”

He takes in a shaky breath, his chest heaves and he finally meets your eyes. “I just- i don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve this life.” He gestures around with his arm. “All the bad shit I’ve done. Someone like me doesn’t deserve to be this happy.” He says.

“Joel, you know I don’t care about any of that. Anything you did before you came here doesn’t matter to me. The Joel who did that stuff isn’t the same Joel who I’ve spent the last year with.” You try to assure him.

“That’s the thing, darlin’. I’m still that man.” He jabs a finger into his chest. “That man is still in here. And if anyone or anything ever tried to hurt you, he’d bust out of the cage he’s in. In a heartbeat.” You shake your head and look up at him.

“I don’t care, Joel. I love you anyway.” Joel’s voice gets caught in his throat when he speaks next. His eyes shine with tears that threaten to spill over.

“You- you love me?” He asks. You grab his hand and tug him into the house. 

Once you are inside you walk over to the fireplace and get a fire going. Joel still has the ax in his hand. He just stands there, watching you numbly. When your hands move to the buttons of your flannel, Joel’s flannel, and begin unbuttoning, a fire lights in his eyes. He tosses the ax to the ground and crosses the room in three steps. His own flannel is already unbuttoned and his salt and pepper chest hair peeks out over the top of his sweat damp muscle shirt. You pull it down over his arms, taking your time to feel the taut muscles of his biceps. You drop the flannel to the floor, and Joel repeats the motion with yours. You reach behind you and unclasp your bra, while he pulls the muscle shirt over his head. You both toe off your boots and you shuck your jeans off as quickly as you can. Wearing just your underwear, you stand in front of Joel and drop to your knees. You unbuckle his belt and then unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull them down and he steps out of them. He doesn’t wear underwear and his cock bobs under the weight of itself. The corners of your mouth sting as you open wide enough to accommodate him. “Oh, fuck, baby.” Joel says quietly when he hits the back of your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and run your tongue on the underside of him. He hisses and his hips twitch towards you, going even further down your throat. “You’re too good to me, baby. I don’t deserve you.” He almost whispers. His praise jolts through your body. You can feel the fabric of your panties growing damp. You pull him out of your mouth with a pop. Joel grabs your hands and helps you to your feet. 

Joel sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. He growls at the taste of himself on your mouth. You can feel his cock twitch where it is sandwiched between your bodies. You moan into his mouth and squeeze your thighs together. “I need you, Joel.” You tell him. You lie down on the rug in front of the fireplace and Joel drops to his knees in between yours. He removes your panties and tosses them to the side. He places his hands on the floor beside your ribs and leans down. He captures your lips in another kiss. You can feel everything Joel feels for you in that kiss. Gratitude, admiration, love. His hand moves between your thighs, circling your clit with his thumb, not breaking the kiss. You arch your back into his touch and your nipples graze his bare chest. The sensation sends a chill through your entire body. You buck your hips into Joel’s hand and he rewards you with two thick fingers. You’re so wet already that they slide right in. You’re already so close. You don’t need to say anything, Joel can tell. He can always tell. The whimpers that fall from your mouth are like music to Joel’s ears. Once your pussy has stopped fluttering around his fingers he gently removes them. He uses the slick that is coating his hand to stroke his cock a few times. He lines himself up at your entrance and gives you a moment to catch your breath. When he plunges inside you, he doesn’t hesitate, he goes to the hilt. The feeling of your walls molding around him, rearranging to fit him, nearly sends him over the edge already. Joel makes love to you, soft and sweet. He takes his time, pulling your orgasm from you slowly. When you clench around him you tug on his curls that are threaded between your fingers. “I love you, Joel.” You whisper into his ear. Your confession draws his own orgasm out. You feel him pulse inside you and a warmth floods your body and his spend coats your walls.

“I love you, too, baby.” He takes you three more times that night. Another time in front of the fireplace, once while you are bent over the back of the couch, and again in the shower. When the two of you finally collapse into bed that night, your legs and knees hurt. Your pussy is sore and puffy and dripping Joel. For the first time in almost a year, Joel doesn't call out for his lost daughters in his sleep. 

Looking back, you’re pretty sure that was the night that you got pregnant. It took several months before either of you figured out what was happening. Though you suppose that you were both probably more in denial than oblivious. You were terrified at the thought of bringing yet another child into this fucked up world. Terrified that something might happen to it. You and Joel hadn’t had much luck in the kid department. You felt fucking awful thinking it, but how were the two of you supposed to keep a baby safe. You thought you were isolated enough from the infection, from other people the first time. But it fucking found you. It found you and took everything from you. You haven’t had anyone to love in sixteen years. There was nobody to look out for anymore, besides yourself. Now you have someone, two someones soon, and all you can think about is the terrible ways that you can lose them both. Then you remember that you have to tell him. This isn’t something that is going to go away on its own. You won’t even be able to hide it much longer. You're almost sure that if anything can send him sprinting as far away from here as he can get, it would be this. You find him in the barn, tending to the goats. He’s holding one of the babies that was born recently, and you don’t think that you’ve ever found him more attractive.

“Joel?” He stops making kissy faces at the goat and looks up at you.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks. You don’t step any closer, standing just inside the open barn doors.

“I need to tell you something.” He kisses the top of the goats head and plops him back down onto the hay. The goat runs to his mother and Joel stands from the squatting position he was in. He wipes his hands on his jeans and walks over to you. His palm cups your jaw and his fingers wrap around the back of your neck. He tilts your head back and kisses you on the forehead.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” The concern in his eyes causes your heart to clench. You can’t bear to disappoint him. You can’t be the cause of more heartache in his life, more despair. You inhale a ragged breath, trying to work up the nerve to let the confession spill forth. 

“I think- I think I’m pregnant, Joel.” You don’t know why you added the “think” part. You are pregnant, have been for months. Tears gush from your eyes, soaking your cheeks. You bury your face in Joel’s chest and he squeezes you tightly. You are babbling about how sorry you are, how you never meant for this to happen. Joel shushes you, he softly strokes your hair.

“Hey. It’s okay. I know.” He says. You don’t hear him because you’re still sobbing. “Hey!” He says, firmer this time, louder. The commanding tone of his voice grabs your attention. You sniff the snot back into your nose and wipe your face with the back of your hand. Your brain finally catches up to your ears.

“What did you just say?” Joel chuckles quietly and gives your lips a soft, chaste kiss.

“Come with me.” He leads you by the hand out of the barn. He walks you down the hill, to the workshop. Your father used to spend hours in here, woodworking and tinkering. He and Danny built the crib that sits in the room Joel occupied when he first arrived. One of the tables is strewn with bits of metal and tools.

“What is all this, Joel?” You ask.

“I’ve been workin’ on getting the radio goin’.” He tells you.

“Why?” Is he planning to leave? Would he actually abandon you? Leave you all alone with a baby?

“Well, I figured I’d try and get a hold of Tommy. Thought we might be able to go visit over there. Or maybe him and Maria could come here, ya know. When the baby comes.” Your heart swells at the thought. You know how much Joel regrets the things he said to his brother when they last spoke. How much he wishes he could take it all back.

“I would like that.” You tell him and his eyes light up. “It might be better if they are willing to come here, though. I don’t think we can leave the animals all alone that long.”

Joel thinks for a moment and nods. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that, darlin’.” 

By the time Tommy and Maria finally make it, you’re about ready to pop. They show up with their own son in tow, now a full blown toddler. Maria gets out of the truck and sets him down on the grass. Tommy walks around the front of the truck and kneels down. He whispers something into his son’s ear while pointing at Joel. The boy’s face lights up and he runs towards where you and Joel stand. “Uncle Joel!” He shouts. Joel bends down and catches him in his arms when he leaps. Joel speaks quietly to him, presses kisses into his temple. They look so much alike, Joel and his brother and nephew. You wonder if your own baby will have the same curls, the same brown eyes. Joel’s misty eyes mirror your own. He places the boy into his mother’s arms and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“You look good, Joel.” She says with a smile.

“All thanks to her.” He replies, nodding his head in your direction. Maria walks over to you and introduces herself.

“We brought some supplies. Joel said y’all had plenty of medical stuff so we brought some other stuff I thought y’all might need.” She says. “I’ll have the boys lug it all when once they’re finished.” You both turn to look at them. They’re standing at the tailgate of the truck, not speaking. They don’t look at each other either. Joel looks at his boots, towing the grass. Tommy seems fascinated by the cowboy hat turning in his hands. Maria clears her throat loudly and they both look up at her. She taps her wrist, where a watch would sit and both men sigh. The sight of the two men, who look so much alike, mirroring each other’s actions, makes you giggle. Then they both begin speaking at once, causing you all to laugh.

“You go first.” Tommy offers. 

You decide to give them some privacy, you motion for Maria to follow you inside the house. “Wow!” She exclaims. “This place is really something.” You lead her down the hall to your old room, the one with the crib, where they will be staying. Her eyes meet yours and the shared look of pain that passes between the two of you doesn’t need any elaboration. The look of a mother who has had to bury their child. Maria places a hand softly on your shoulder in understanding. You lean into her touch. Though you are no longer the touch-starved, near-feral woman you were almost two years ago, this is something altogether different. The feminine touch of someone who is the closest thing you’ll ever have to a sister again is irresistible. She wraps her arm, the one not holding her baby, around your shoulder and draws you in close. Your bump is safely nestled between your bodies and she comforts you as you cry into her shoulder. She rubs her hand up and down your back, soothing you. Just as you lift your head from her now tear soaked shoulder, you hear the front door. The men are laughing, a sound you haven't heard much from Joel, and your heart soars. You wipe your tears from your eyes and begin to apologize to Maria.

“I’m so sorry.” You chuckle. “These damn hormones.” You explain.

“Don’t worry about it.” She assures you with a warm smile. 

That night, when Joel joins you in bed, you can feel how much lighter he seems. He drapes his arm over you, cupping a protective hand around your belly.  The baby starts kicking like crazy, just like he always does when his dad is nearby. You aren’t sure how, but you just know that it’s going to be a boy. After dinner, Maria took you to the living room to sort through the boxes of supplies they had brought. One of the boxes was full to the brim with baby clothes. The various sizes were enough to keep the baby clothed for probably the first year of his life. Joel's heart swells at the sight of you folding the tiny clothes and putting them into the dresser you had emptied out and he had moved to the master bedroom, your bedroom now. The two of you needed more space,  now that you were about to become the three of you. 

Three days after Tommy and Maria arrive, your son, Samuel Elliot Miller makes his entrance into the world. Labor was much more difficult than you remembered it being, but perhaps that's because you weren't nineteen anymore. Maria performed the delivery. Something she had done many times in Jackson. Joel held your hand the entire time. His presence grounded you. His soothing words of praise calmed you. “You're doing so good, baby. I know it hurts, but all the pain is gonna be worth it when you see our baby.” He'd said. And it was. It was worth every searing second. Now, holding your son, you can hardly even recall the pain. He has big brown eyes and the tiniest little nose. His full head of dark brown hair, almost black, is so soft you wanna nuzzle your nose in it forever. You want to hold him in your arms and never let him go. But after an hour, exhaustion overcomes you. You hand Samuel to his father and welcome the nothingness of sleep. 

Joel would never admit it, but he was hoping for a boy. When you asked he just said he didn't care, “As long as it's healthy I'll be happy.” He sits in the rocking chair he'd started building for you months ago, before you even told him you were pregnant, and rocks his son gently. He gazes down at his sleeping face, looking for which features he got from each of you. There are tears in his eyes as he whispers softly to him. “I'll never let anything happen to you. I promise I'm gonna take care of you and your mama for the rest of my life. I love you both so much” He doesn’t notice that you’ve woken, nor that you heard every word of his promises, until he hears you sniffle. He stands carefully, and walks over to you. You slide over and he climbs in, carefully cradling your son’s head. His free arm circles your shoulders and draws you in tight. You rest your head on his shoulder and the two of you stare at your sleeping baby.

“Look what we did.” You whisper to Joel and gently stroke the slope of Samuel’s nose. Joel kisses the crown of your head.

“You did all the hard work, baby.” He says. When you chuckle, he continues. “I mean it, darlin’. You saved my life. In more ways than one.”

Tommy and Maria stay for a few more days, but eventually they have to get back to Jackson. They promise to be back soon to visit, and to keep in communication via radio. You and Maria hug, more words of understanding go unspoken between you. The guilt of having a child after having lost one. The weight of the responsibility that carries sits heavy on both of your shoulders. But having someone with whom to help carry the burden, eases the pain a little. Tommy and Joel stand side by side next to Tommy’s truck. Both looking down at Samuel, eyes full of hope and love and their own shared grief. Finally, Maria breaks the moment, reminding her husband of the long and precarious drive ahead. Goodbyes are said all around, and you and Joel retreat to the comfort of your home. Joel can hardly sleep a wink those first few days. He just flits back and forth between the bed and the crib, keeping a steady watch over the loves of his life. 

Maria and Tommy make good on their promise to visit. They come to spend two weeks with you and Joel, twice a year. Eventually, they convince you to return the favor and come visit them in Jackson. Joel and Tommy are closer than they have ever been. Watching their sons play side by side feels like more than either man thinks they deserve. Three years after Sam was born, you give birth to another son, Thomas Daniel. Sam is thrilled to be an older brother. You never would have guessed that you would be a mother again at forty, but wouldn’t change it for anything. Tommy keeps trying to convince you and Joel to move to Jackson permanently. “The kids can grow up together. It’s safer in a community than it is out here alone.” He says. Joel remains unconvinced.

“This is where we want to raise our kids.” He tells him every time. “Y’all are more than welcome to move over here.” He offers. The four of you are always at an impasse when it comes to this topic. 

You and Joel live a quiet, fulfilling life with your sons. You work the land, and care for the animals. Joel teaches them to build and repair pretty much everything under the sun. You teach them how to cook, and sew. Joel teaches them how to shoot, how to hunt. You get to do something neither of you had ever imagined you’d get to do again. Live . You no longer merely survive, just hoping to get the next day. You have a life. A family. Somehow, after all of these years, that thread that drew you and Joel together has never frayed. If anything it’s strengthened. Each year, a new thread weaves itself with the others. A thick, braided cord ties your heart to his now. Two people who thought themselves damaged, broken. Each letting the other heal you, break down the walls you had both built around your hearts. 

By the time the boys are teenagers, they are itching to have more in their lives. They’ve grown used to spending time in Jackson with their aunt and uncle, with their cousins, with more people to talk to than just their parents. You and Joel have begun letting them stay for a few months at a time. Sam drives them on his own now. At eighteen he’s plenty responsible to manage a few hours' drive. Neither you nor Joel can settle until they call on the radio, letting you know that they’ve made it. They are  readying their things for their trip, packing clothes and checking on the animals. You and Joel hover, making sure they have everything they need. They won’t leave for a few days yet, but like their parents, they like to be prepared. After dinner, the boys offer to clean the kitchen. You and Joel retire to the front porch. Joel has trouble getting around these days. Considering he’s in his seventies, and the hell his body has been through over the last forty years, it’s a wonder he can walk at all. Sam made him a cane in the workshop a few years back, but he refuses to use it. “I can get around just fine on my own, goddamnit.” He says when you or the boys offer him assistance. 

You lean against the porch railing and Joel stands next to you. You gaze across your land, bathed in the golden light of the sunset. Your gaze pulls towards your husband, and you find him staring at you. His brown curls have gone fully gray, there’s no longer any pepper in the salt of his still patchy beard. “What?” You ask, smiling.

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he returns your smile. “Nothin’.” He says. “Just doin’ the same as you. Appreciatin’ the view.” He sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your middle. You place your hands over his and he rests his head on your shoulder. You sink back into the softness of his belly. His arms and chest are just as firm as they’ve always been. Even now, twenty years on, he still rises with the sun and does the daily farm chores. The boys do most of the wood chopping these days, but Joel still prefers to oversee the care of the animals himself. He presses a kiss into your neck and sighs.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He squeezes you a bit tighter.

“Nothin’s wrong at all, baby. Just wonderin’ how I got so lucky, is all. This life that we built here, its more than I ever thought I would have again after losing my girls. Hell, it’s more than I deserve.” Joel spins you around and backs you up against the porch railing. “I love you so goddamn much, darlin’.” And he kisses you with the same fervor and hunger as he always has. You fall asleep wrapped in his arms, the same way you have for the last twenty years. The warmth of his body and the soft sound of his breath lull you to sleep. 

You always knew that Joel would be gone before you. With almost twenty years’ age difference, and given the world you lived in, it was inevitable. Most people don’t get the luxury of living to a ripe, old age anymore. Much less the dignity of dying peacefully in their sleep. Of course you are sad, but this isn’t the devastation that prior losses have brought. You and Joel had worked out the logistics of the others’ wishes a long time ago. Unsurprisingly, Joel didn’t want to hear yours. “I think we both know I’m goin’ long before you do, sweetheart. In fact, I insist on it.” He’d said as you laid on that rug in front of the fire. You sat between his legs, leaned back against his chest, his hands stroking your ever growing bump. While you laughed, his face remained stony and unchanged. “I mean it, I forbid you to die before me.” You just rolled your eyes and reached up to kiss him.

“Okay, Joel. I promise to let you die first.” You assured him. 

You held up your end of the deal, you suppose. The boys wrap him up in the blanket from your bed and carry him to the living room. They lay him on the rug in front of the fireplace, his favorite place in the whole house. They slip out of the house quietly to begin the tasks that need handling. Sam goes into the workshop to call Tommy, and Thomas goes to the barn and pulls out the shovels. You and Joel had already chosen your spots in the wildflower field long ago, and showed the boys for when the time came. You expected that thread, the one that’s kept you tethered to him for the last twenty years, to be gone. Snipped in half when the love of your life closed his eyes for the last time. But you still feel it, pulling you towards where he lies cold on the floor. You lay down next to your husband and you rest your head on his chest and drape your arm across his chest. Your tears soak through the thick fabric of the quilt. He still smells like himself, you think. It almost feels like he’s still there, just sleeping, but not quite. It takes you a moment to figure out what’s missing. The steady thumping of his heart that you’d grown used to hearing when you laid your head in this spot. You remain there, soaking up as much of him as you can, until Samuel lifts you from the floor and carries you to your bed. 

You lay joel to rest in the field behind the barn. In the field where the rest of your family lies, and someday you will too. The only six people in the world that Joel cared about are in attendance. When the last bit of displaced dirt is settled over him, you all take turns placing flowers from the field on top. Everyone has a moment to say their private goodbyes. You kneel down in the dirt and place your hand on top, hoping to feel him again, if just for a moment. When nothing comes, you let the flowers fall from your hand. “Goodbye, my love.” You softly whisper into the wind, urging it to carry your words to where he can hear them.

When my time comes around,

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down.

I’ll crawl home to her

-Hozier, ‘Work Song’

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[tainted-liquor]

☆‧₊˚Cat N' Spider ⋆.˚[1.7.24]- e42!Miles x Reader 🕸˖°.TWs || Miles is lowkey a pottymouthhh

What makes a villain? Is it their frigid, pompous attitude tailored to mask that sentimental wound from past trauma? Or is it the narcissistic qualities that wash away the blood of the innocent from their fleeting, voided sense of memory? No matter the man or lady behind the mask, they all unite under one common umbrella- shielding themselves from the icy rainwater that forces them to heed the treacherous callback from the rain…

A desperate covet to be acknowledged…no…remembered.

Villains aren’t born; they’re created. There was no such thing as “good” or “bad”, there was survival, and there were morals. And when you were only thirteen, you became the victim of a team of scientists determined to create a “better” world for you and the Brooklyn, New York population. So emerged Plan 42-J, where a spider was sucked up from your world and engineered on another.

And when that spider found itself back in your world, guess whose teeth it found refuge in?

Little old you!

“Yeah…I’ll be there at like seven. You want somethin’ from the store?” Your boyfriend, Miles grunted, his scarred and sculpted shoulder blades facing the camera as he made himself look presentable in his bathroom mirror. “Uhhh, you don’t have to…Actually, wait, get me a pineapple Fanta and some chips,” you muttered, tugging on your pretty little red Converse with as much force as physically possible. 

“Bet–...I might be a little late actually,” Miles sighed, turning around to face the camera and picking up his phone as he began to tap away at the miniature keyboard. Your face pulled into a deep frown, jet black brows furrowing as you pulled your face up from the invisible string connecting you and your shoelaces. “Miles, come on now…this is like the hundredth time you were late to shit we planned!” You grunted, rolling your eyes in slight sorrow and annoyance.

“I know, I know. I’ll try to wrap this shit up as fast as possible, I’m sorry mama” he sighed, running an exasperated hand across his face. “It’s just thirty minutes, ok?” He reassured, his gentle and wispy eyelashes batting softly as he toyed with the gifted gold-clad locket that nestled perfectly between his collarbones. You sighed, pressing the end-call button before falling backward on your couch, sinking into the comfy beige cotton and sighing deeply.

It wasn’t even 20 minutes before you were prompted to spring up from your couch, turning on the TV to monitor whatever was happening in Brooklyn today. Crime rates are dropping, cities are being rebuilt, and smiles are all around. A sense of gratitude washed over you– you weren’t too fond of being Spider-Girl ever since you found out about HQ, but it made ‘fixing’ your world much more satisfying.

But alas, good things don’t last forever. The news reporters' eyes widened as they cupped their ears with what looked like shock and fear, cutting themselves off mid-script to announce a new threat down Kings Plaza. “Oh hold on– give me just a second, Brent, but we’re just now receiving word that the infamous ‘Prowler’ has been spotted down at the abandoned Kings Plaza shopping outlet. Witnesses say he was seen breaking through the window of the old building, presumably chasing after a taller man.”

You groaned loudly, throwing two unfortunate pillows off the couch as you stomped back upstairs to throw on your crimson and white Spider-Suit. “Stupid fucking prowler…ruining my fuckin’ date night,” you grumbled, angrily pulling the mask over your face before calling out to your mom.  “Hey, mom? I’m gonna make a store run before Miles gets here! I'm gonna grab ingredients for cookies!” You shouted, quickly opening and closing the door so it’d seem like you left the house.

You slipped out the back window, climbing your way up the fire escape before swinging through the night, wind cascading across your masked face, taking deep gulps of air through your nostrils. Your blood boiled like overboiled soup stock, salt and muck bubbling to the surface as you grumbled under your breath. That stupid fuck ass had a habit of somehow ruining your quality time with your boyfriend, postponing dates and meetups in a futile attempt to put away your irksome ‘nemesis.’

You’ve had a couple of encounters with the Prowler, with him being the most determined villain since the ‘Rise of Spider-Girl’. Of all the many villains you’d put away, he seemed the most persistent in riding his wave of crime to fruition. The air, filled with its normal hubbub, voices clamoring together as car engines blended to create the everyday atmosphere of Brooklyn.

You dipped down in between the abandoned subway, scanning the topography of the old station before hearing an uncomfortably loud–

BANG! 

You got up on your feet, quickly scanning the areas as you attempted to squint through the thick veil of darkness that covered your eyes. The soft, meshy fabric of your red and white spider mask made everything increasingly more difficult as you attempted to analyze every small detail of your location. Blurry pipes, massive trash bags, debris, and a run-down train that had been claimed by rust and nature.

You walked down the wide tunnel, clicking on the flashlight that you had attached to your tactical belt a couple of months ago. You smiled to yourself, glad that one of the many trinkets you’d created since becoming Spider-Girl was proving to be useful. It was freezing, your jaw clenching as you lumbered forward, running your gloved fingertips across the rusty metal walls.

“Yo! Come on, man. I know you’re down here somewhere, and I don’t wanna be in this cold-ass tunnel!” You shouted, not even sure if you were actually talking to anyone else. “I mean, hero to…villain? Anti-Hero? I’m sure you’ve got people to get home to. And I’d hate to send your busted ass home to your wife and kids with new bruises,” You threatened, voice low and serious as you began to do another routine scan around your new surroundings. 

“My wife is none of your business,” A stern and rather agitated voice spoke from the far distance, causing you to whip your head around and assume a battle stance. You sucked in a large breath of air, lungs expanding and burning with each passing second as you ran forward at half your usual speed. “And I’m not going home with shit. From you.” He enunciated, the static overlay coating his voice like molten lava and burnt sugar.

“Man, wrap this up! All of the other villains are putting their shit away, why can’t you! Have you ever considered a job?” You spat, stopping mere inches away from the source of the loathsome voice before squinting up at the Prowler. “You’re the most desperate bitch I’ve ever fought with, you know that? I’ve never felt the need to prove something this bad,” You spat, growing more and more agitated by the second. 

“You funny as shit for real. Now If Ian have no human decency, I’d have been sent yo lil’ass to the hospital but ion put my hands on women cuz my daddy raised me betta’ than that. So we can do it like this– you can get the fuck out of my face and I can keep my hands to myself, or I can show all of Brooklyn how you nothin’ but a lil girl playing pretend in tight spandex,” He grunted, dropping down from the tall ceiling and hitting the ground with a sickeningly heavy thud.

His mask illuminated about 6 inches in front of him with bright purple, advancing towards you slowly as he invaded your personal space. You were sure that had he not worn his signature holographic mask, you would’ve felt his breath ghost the tip of your nose. He was so close you could lift a finger and make immediate contact with his chest.

“You piss me the fuck off.” You grunted, staring back at the monster in front of you as you let the thick, discomforting silence fill the lack of space between the two of you. He was menacing, it made you wanna get as far away from him as possible and go home to your kind, and loving boyfriend. But a job’s a job, no matter how intimidating the ‘client’.

“And you give me a fuckin’ headache. ¿Lo sabes, verdad?” He rasped, quickly landing a sharp blow straight to your gut as he sent you flying backward almost one foot. It hurt like hell, your stomach suddenly felt tight and uncomfortably empty as you struggled to regain control over your breathing. “Mira, me estás haciendo sentir mal. You think I wanna hit you?” he muttered, slowly backing away from you before taking off in the opposite direction.

What a fucking dickhead.

You swallowed the bile that threatened to erupt from your gullet, regaining your footing and taking off after the arrogant man once more. You focused on your breathing, drawing long and stable breaths that you allowed to ease the pain that plagued your gut. The wind whistled around your ears as you charged forward, gentle howls and soft rustles caressing your ears with each step.

You followed the harsh neon purple lighting, giggling slightly at how obvious was when you actually got up close to the guy and were able to see his mask. Your footsteps echoed across the tunnel, the heavy thuds mingling with your dull pitter-pattering as you managed to catch up to the unknown man, tackling him from behind as you made a futile attempt to pin him to the ground. And for a second it felt as though he had relaxed into your hold, his usual tense and guarded posture faltering for only a fraction of a second before you felt a painful grip on your wrist.

You went flying forward, narrowly avoiding landing on your neck as you scrambled to land on your feet. Throughout this entire confrontation, your spider-sense seemed to fail you time and time again to warn you of your opponent's attacks, making it increasingly harder to dodge any sort of blow he would deliver. Your right cheek, neck, shoulders, and gut all ached with pain as you struggled to memorize his attack pattern. 

He was unpredictable; switching his style of fighting with every new punch while you went through trial and error of pattern memorization. There were claw marks in your suit near your sides that revealed your skin as you finally found a solid fighting technique against the taller man. You finally found your perfect balance, landing disgustingly heavy blows to any part of him that you could reach.

He was lean. He may be built like a twig on the surface, but his entire body was fortified by nothing but pure muscle mass. He felt nearly hard to the touch as you threw your body weight into every strike. “You’re solid. You could put your…odd level of strength to much better use, c’monnnn,” you half-whined, groaning as you resorted to low blows and a style that consisted of legwork.

The white slits on his holographic mask narrowed, indicating his clear disgust as he jumped over your smaller form. “I have things to do. You’re in my way, little bug…” He spat, making a break for the surface as he ran onto the platform and seemingly glided up the stairs. Fuck, how annoying can someone get? He was faster than a bullet train and had incredible levels of stamina.

He was everything you needed in battle. Each time you found yourselves tangled in each other's path, there was an unexplainable tension that stuck each of you together with a bond stronger than any glue. Not to mention the way he managed to evade every single sense that spider had given you; almost like he wasn’t a threat.

You watched him dart up the block, getting ahead start on a taller building as he dug his claws into the sturdy brick. He climbed like a hungry panther chasing their next meal, starving for some sort of adrenaline as you followed closely behind him. The moon illuminated his figure in a ghostly white hue, highlighting the scratched metal of his suit components.

The frigid air left gentle kisses across your clothed limbs, provoking goosebumps as you pulled yourself up on the rough, concrete roof of some random building. You looked at the man, who rested an annoyed hand on his wounded shoulder as his mask mimicked an eye roll. “No quiero lastimarte. Pero, tengo una esposa en casa,” He grunted before quickly advancing towards you with pure anger.

Suddenly, as if they couldn't be late enough, that familiar tingle ran down your spine as you saw his next move in real-time before it happened. You grabbed his left wrist, which began to outstretch in your direction, and forced pressure onto his trigger point. He released a pained groan before you lunged forward, sending the two of you tumbling forward as something fell out of the collar of the neckline of his shirt.

The white eyes widened as a pretty little gold-clad heart locket dangled around his neck, spinning wildly before settling on his chest without so much as a sound. His eyes widened, kicking you off of him before tucking the locket back in his shirt with a relieved sigh and a silent prayer. “Weird. I gave that same locket to my boyfriend,” You muttered.

There was a low chuckle that sounded more annoyed rather than amused before he shuffled back to his feet and stood underneath the pale moonlight. “My wife gave this to me. Touch it, and i’ll fuckin’ kill you this time” he enunciated, a narrow squint to add insult to his words. “Anniversary gift. I hope you not trynna get personal, cuz I’m still gon whoop your ass”

The gears started turning in your brain as you stopped, your posture relaxing as your closed fist came to a rest on your upper left hip. “June 2nd?” You asked, eyes widening a fraction as you slowly backed away from…the boy? In front of you.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and fear before nodding slowly. “Yeah…why?” He murmured as he walked towards you, quickly closing any distance between you that you worked so hard to make. “Mozz?” You asked, gentle curiosity laced in your tone for the first time that night.

Miles looked dumbfounded. His sudden aura of anger and nonchalance melted before your very eyes before quiet forced giggles erupted from his throat. Quiet giddy chuckles quickly became cries, babbles of “I'm sorry” quickly leaving his lips as he lowered himself to the ground and became consumed by regret. “Ma I’m so fucking sorry I would’ve never put my hands on you…” he whispered, shaky breaths leaving his lips as you quickly came to his aid.

“Wait nononono don’t cry!” you pleaded, checking your surroundings to make sure there weren't any cameras, helicopters, or paparazzi before pulling off your mask. “This doesn’t even hurt! It’s fine! C’mon don’t cry, get up,” You pleaded as you scooped up your weeping boyfriend off the floor. His mask collapsed as he leaned into your hold, wetting your suit with salty tears as he grasped at your hand.

“It’s not fine! Since when is me hurting you fine!” He gasped, “I never wanted to do this prowler shit! I only did it so Mamí wouldn’t have to worry about bills…”  he confessed as you peppered gentle kisses to his face. You nodded as he came apart in your arms, feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces as he practically died upon hearing his nickname.

“Miles, I’m not mad! I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me. It’s my JOB to stop villains. It's YOUR job to…be a villain! I still don’t know what you do I’m sorry boo,” you confessed, giving his head gentle pats as he chuckled into your side. “I’m not no villain. I just do what people tell me,” he shrugged, pulling you down to the ‘ground’ with him.

“ ‘m sorry. You know that right? I’ll quit all of this prowler shit Ma I just never wanna hurt you again” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“You miss a date again and I’m turning you in,” you joked in between kisses.

“Yeah Yeah my bad”

Tags below <3333

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasgoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x  @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc @al3xwqz @l0starl @hobiebrownismygod @luv-kae @moriellis @daydreaming-en-pointe @malinashiftss @imjustagirlintheworld777 @edevotion

[brokenpieces-72]

Home for Holidays

Monster! 141 (mostly Soap) x Hybrid female Reader (jackalope/wendigo)

This is a continuation of the previous fanfic on my page. The only context you need it that the reader is teenager. Mentions @diejager reader character Hunter and is based on designs by @bluegiragi

CW/TW: Mentions of trauma, abuse, family trauma, punishment, origins of wendigo, crying, angst, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Soon enough Holidays come around and there are no signs of your handler returning to base. Which means you’ll likely be alone on base on the holidays. It’s not the first time so that’s okay but you do get jealous when plans are brought up in conversation.

“So what’ll you be doin lass?” Johnny asks. His friendly face becomes a small frown when you shrug.

“Maybe I’ll just stay on base with Ghost…not sure what else there is. Nowhere to go really…” You say shrugging. Johnny’s brother side comes out in full swing, not just for you but for Simon as well. He knows Simon uses the holidays for his own needs, and doesn’t really stay on base the whole time. Leaving you behind didn’t feel fair to him. Not only that but it’s not fair to you, to have to sit in your room by yourself bored out of your mind.

Johnny makes some calls after that and soon learns there’ll be some paperwork but he doesn’t care. It’ll be worth it.

Nikolai comes to pick people up to take home, and Johnny has you already packed and it basically bouncing on your bed to get you to wake up.

“Come on wheels up lass!”

He’s carrying the duffel you had when you came and hands it to you.

“But-“ you’re half awake as you try to protest.

“No questions. Come on.” He says and you both get on the helicopter. Rudy and Alejandro say good bye to you before you leave and give you a gift to open on Christmas as does Gaz and Price. Ghost sees you off and you tell him you hope he enjoys the privacy.

Johnny takes you to his hometown, and when you land he explains that he made some calls home. And then to Laswell, and the program and few others to make sure everything was sorted.

“Ma didn wantya to be alone. Just know you’ll be put to work still…got dat?” You nod and he takes you to his house after you land, where you meet Soap’s mother and Soap’s older brother. His mother comments a bit on your appearance saying you look a little pale and could afford to put on a couple pounds. Soap gives her a look but you shake it off saying you have been. She gives you a warm smile and helps you find your room.

You have a good time on your leave and it feels a little odd to you. Your family was way different, but Johnny’s is cozy and kind and teasing. You join in on jabs at him, and help around the house as best you can, learning more basic skills like cooking and chopping wood. Johnny takes you to a few different places around, along with his brother, and you even meet a couple of his football buddies. They’re friendly and tell you some stories about Johnny. They ask about the ears and antlers. Johnny lets you answer how you choose, whether it’s as a jackalope or a wendigo. At some point he leaves you with his friends to take care of something and when he comes back, he sees you talking and having a good conversation with them. It’s hard to imagine you were once this simple, shy, apologetic kid and now you had grown into a friendly, healthy teenager.

One night you and Johnny take a minute to relax on a bench before continuing your walk home. The two of you had just left his friend and their partner at a store, and the walk home would be long. Johnny could handle walking in the dark but wanted you to be safe too. You both look out at the street lit up by garlands of lights and shop windows. It was good to finally take a break after all the walking around. You watch people go by and notice body language you didn’t often see on base. Couples holding hands, kids running and skipping, snowballs being thrown, parents swinging their kids. You lean against your knees, following Johnny’s sitting position.

“Are all families like this?” You ask. Johnny notices where you had been looking and shrugs.

“Nah all of em. The good ones are.” Johnny ponders for a moment before inquiring. “Take it you didn ave that.”

You shake your head.

“Wha were they like?” He asks. You go very quiet, and he pays closer attention. It’s not an easy subject, your parents were mean and obsessive over your hybrid features. You were outcasted and isolated. Christmas was a rough time, as you would see people happy outside but never felt the same way.

“…they…they used to yell at me. Sometimes hit me.” You confessed. Johnny looks at you. “It kept escalating… sometimes it was burns or no food for a day. Then one day they grounded me and put me in the basement.” You pause for a shaky breath feeling your throat tighten up. Johnny lets you continue at your own pace. “They gave me raw meat and told me there was nothing else…”

You’re shaking recalling the horrid memory of how you became a wendigo. Your family wasn’t normal and your parents weren’t sane. You only found out how insane they were when it was too late. How cultish they could be.

Johnny doesn’t need you to finish, and instead moves closer to you on the bench and holds you tight. The tears just come down and you nestle into his winter jacket. You feel a gloved hand on your head keeping you close.

“You didn do anythin wrong.” He tells you over and over, tucking your head under his chin. “You’re a good kid. Don’ forgae ‘at.”

You finally pull away after a while and he asks if you’re ready to keep going. You nod, he gives you his arm to cling to while you head home. There are still tears but your face is stinging from the cold, and you’d rather be inside. Johnny tries to change the subject or make some jokes with you. He gets a couple giggles for his dad jokes. When you finally get back, Johnny’s mother notices your tears and gets you some water. She doesn’t ask about it and lets her son handle everything while you curl up on the couch with him watching Die Hard.

You feel more and more comfortable snuggling up to Soap, and he you. He’s taken to calling you ‘pup’ and ‘whelp’. When you walk in to relax with him he offers to shift for you so you can have a soft pillow to rest against. It doesn’t take long before his brother and mother are friendly with you too, spending some alone time with them as well. His mother has taken a shine to you, often asking for some help in the kitchen or showing you cute videos she found online. There’s a couple of Facebook posts usually involving the Grinch or Peanuts cartoons that you find cute, and smile at.

His mom expresses concern multiple times about your wardrobe, noticing you wear the same items in a row.

“If ya wouldna mind me askin dear, didn ya wear that shirt yesterday?”

“Y-yes. Is that bad?” You ask.

“No no of curse not, it’s a nice shirt, but doncha ave other clothes?” She asks. When you shake your head she sets down whatever she is working on. It doesn’t take long for her to check if any of her sons’ old clothes will fit you. The clothes are a little baggy on you, even with the couple extra pounds you’ve gained while staying there but they’ll work. Especially since they’ll likely get torn anyways when you back to base. Honestly his mother is glad they’ll be put to use, and they’re some of the few clothes she has that are intact since Johnny’s form often rips his clothing.

Christmas Eve comes around and Soap is up early for his workout and his mother is up for her meal prep.

“Aye ma? Canna ask you somethin?” Soap asks quietly, not wanting to wake you or give you the chance to hear him.

“Yes?”

“Whatcha think of the lass?”

She takes a moment to think about it.

“Lovely child. Takes after ya a bit moore than I’d like.” She teases. Johnny smiles before unloading a bit on to his mother. “They don’t ave anywhere else to go after this, unless Price keeps em. So it got me thinkin uhh…” his tail twitches awkwardly as she takes note of his tone. His mom has seen how her sons’ tails react when they get a certain way. Before he can ask she answers the question.

“I think ya need to think this over some more. I wouldna mind it… but she’s got as much of a say as you do. Honestly she’s a lovely lass, and I know you’ve taken a shine to her. More than a shine, yer practically her brother. You’ve told me what she is, and I have no qualms but ya better be here for her too. I’m not dealin’ with a hybrid under my roof, alone and at my age.”

“I will ma, thank you.” Johnny decides to bring it up later when you guys head back to base.

Christmas comes and it’s overwhelming for someone unused to large close gatherings. Johnny and his brother make it a habit for at least one of them to stay close to you. Their relatives ask tou questions and get to know you. You don’t unload like you did with Johnny, but when your past comes up you do respond.

“Well my adoptive parents were pretty bad, so after that my social worker put me in the program for rehabilitation and relocation I guess.”

When you get the chance you slip away to take a breath, and relax a bit. The whole situation is crazy after being on a such an isolated family. The holidays weren’t exactly great for you, and sometimes you were alone to open gifts by yourself. The gifts were strange too, often in the form of weird books and strange toys. Looking back, to any normal person the gifts should have been red flags. Johnny finds you soon enough, and asks if you just want some time to yourself.

“This is normal? Spending holidays like this?” You ask. He nods.

“Never got ‘at back ‘ome.”

You shake your head. Johnny isn’t one to show vulnerability but damn you make it hard.

“Fairly normal. You open your gifts yet?” He asks. “Come on we’re about to start opening them.”

You get up and follow him, carrying the gifts you got from the 141 into the living room, and sit down. Anyone seeing the scene would know you were out of place, as everyone was either human or a werewolf. Johnny’s mom sits by you, and has a gift for you too. You open it and you laugh, finding a hoodie for Johnny’s favourite football team. Johnny looks over and basically cheers seeing the hoodie. The gifts from the team are a journal and some stationary and a sketchbook. They’re simple gifts sure but they’re better than anything you had gotten before. They were yours.

Next couple days you spend collecting and drawing around the area. You take the journal everywhere, writing about the things you see and draw your own ideas.

During a visit to a restaurant you notice some humans and draw them as hybrids, giving them tails and wings. Any common or ugly looks from other humans go ignored as you focus on the pencils and paper before you.

Your journal gets filled with cards, photos, stickers, scribbles and a couple of miscellaneous items you find like leaves, flowers and feathers. It’s not long before items are poking out from between the pages marking your progress. You write plenty of thoughts, and even a couple stories about the items you find.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Dirty Thirty

Prompt Day 24: Birthday | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Childhood Trauma, Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Steve & Gareth, Eddie Turns 30, Birthday Blues, Hurt/Comfort, Steve POV

"It's his dirty thirty," Steve says, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear, "We have to do something."

Gareth laughs through the receiver.

"Well, you can dig your own grave if you want to, but I'm definitely not crawling in it with you," Gareth says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. 

Eddie usually loves his birthday, but several weeks ago the decree came down that he wanted nothing for his birthday. He wanted to pretend it didn't exist. But is Steve really supposed to do nothing to celebrate Eddie's thirtieth birthday? That's a milestone. 

Eddie almost didn't make it to twenty-one. But he did, and that birthday party was so fucking wild that Steve still doesn't remember everything that happened. All he knows is he woke up with a tattoo on his arm that looks suspiciously like Eddie's handiwork, though Eddie still denies it. 

So, Eddie turning thirty should be celebrated. Maybe not a kegger that ends in beloved, if unplanned, tattoos. But still. Something special. 

"What if-" 

"No," Gareth says, "whatever you're thinking. No." 

Steve sighs, in disappointment. 

Gareth's right, is the thing. Eddie isn't one to say he doesn't want something, but secretly does. He said he didn't want anything, so he really doesn't want anything this year.

Steve knows Eddie isn't the type to dwell on getting older. He usually loves that shit. Loves that he lived, and has kept on living. So, this is out of character, and hard for Steve to swallow.

"I know," Steve finally says, "you're right." 

"What was that? Say it again, a little louder. You know my hearing is shitty from years of drumming."

Steve laughs, "Gareth, you're right. Even if I loathe to admit it." 

Gareth cackles, but then turns serious.

"I know you mean well, Steve-o. But let's just do what he wants, okay? Not what we want. Of course, I'll want you to throw me a huge dirty thirty. Strippers coming out of the cake, the whole nine yards," Gareth says. 

"I think your wife might have something to say about that," Steve says, dryly. 

Gareth just laughs. 

Steve finally relents, "Okay, I won't plan anything." 

"Smart man," Gareth says, and hangs up the phone. 

Gareth is Eddie's best friend, but maybe Steve should float this situation past Jeff and Goodie, too. Just in case. Get a second and third opinion. Gareth isn't the be-all and end-all. 

So, Steve gives them each a call.

Jeff is kind, but firm, with his hard no vote. 

Goodie is a hard yes, but it's a trap, and Steve knows better than to fall for it. 

It doesn't take long for Gareth to call back. 

"Steven." 

Steve hangs his head, "I just had to ask them, okay?!" 

"No means no!" Gareth shouts.

"I won't do shit, I promise," Steve says. 

"You better not," Gareth says, and hangs up on him for the second time today.

And Steve doesn't plan anything. 

Eddie turns thirty, and nothing happens. Steve hates it. 

He takes Eddie out to eat, but Eddie wouldn't even pick somewhere nice. No, he just wanted to grab food from the taco truck that always sits in the parking lot of the hardware store.

So, they eat messy tacos, standing up, outdoors, in January, while people carry lumber to their waiting trucks. 

Eddie never mentions it's his birthday, and nobody else does either. 

It's weird. 

That night they lay in bed, and Steve feels like he's missed something big here. It's a gnawing sensation in his gut, and he hates it. Eddie doesn't even seem in the mood for birthday sex. Not that he needs a reason to get Steve into bed, but he usually likes to pretend it's a special gift, just for him, and Steve always goes along with it. 

Not tonight.

Tonight, they lay in the quiet, and Steve feels like this whole day, this whole week, has been off. He's running through every damn thing that could have led up to this, when Eddie finally speaks.

"I'm older than my mom ever was, now," Eddie says in the dark. 

And there it is. The piece Steve was missing. Of course. 

Steve rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm around Eddie. Hugging him tight. 

"I'm sorry, honey, that must be weird." 

Eddie nods, and then tucks his head into his own chest, and cries. Steve can feel his back shaking with the movement.

Steve presses his face into Eddie's back, holding him. There's no fixing this kind of hurt. Steve knows. Eddie has to feel it. But Steve holds him tight, and Eddie lets him, leaning back against Steve's chest, seeking comfort. They've been that comfort for each other for years, a decade now, even if Steve gets it wrong sometimes. Still can't read Eddie's mind, as much as he'd like to, especially in times like these.

"I'm sorry I've been so weird," Eddie says, his voice thick.

"I love you," Steve tells him.

Eddie suddenly rolls in his arms, pressing his face into Steve's neck. Steve just hugs him tighter, rubbing his back. 

"I feel like I'm a little kid again, crying like this," Eddie says, and Steve presses his face into Eddie's hair.

"It's okay to cry," Steve tells him, because it is. It took Steve a long time to realize that, because crying wasn't okay growing up in the Harrington household. 

But as an adult? If he wants to cry. He'll fucking cry. Steve finds he always feels better after he's let it all out. 

"I know," Eddie says, "but it hurts today like it's fresh, and not decades old. I hate it."

Steve rubs his back, then pulls back, "Put on your shoes."

"What? Why?" Eddie asks, and Steve touches his arm, urging him on.

Twenty minutes later, Wayne is holding Eddie as he cries, and this is definitely what Eddie needed. Steve's absolutely sure. 

Eddie can't have his mom, but he still has Wayne. His dad, in all the ways that matter.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[wroteclassicaly]

Walk Until You Belong

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: Amongst confusing and mixed up words, you think you realize where you really stand, with those who matter the most to you, particularly Eddie Munson.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader, teases Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, anxiety, panic attack, extreme self-esteem issues, HEAVY on the angst, no happy ending (this one hurts, folks), Eddie is mean with his words, depression, & extremely (be warned) sad thoughts.

A/N: This thought randomly came to me in the car today, then proceeded to poke and prod at me until I wrote it down/out. This is what came of it, and it’s a product of mind mindset, as of lately. Please read the warnings and air with caution, because it’s meant to work out my own feelings, and as of now, there’s no second part planned and there isn’t a happy ending here. I leave it open-ended. Just know, this piece is really vulnerable to me, and I’m not gonna and say I didn’t cry a little while writing this, so I feel like it’s a personal breakthrough, and I wanna share it with you all ❤️♥️

Sidenote: Using the nickname of Princess in this fic, instead of Y/N. Also, Eddie isn’t nice in this. He’s not exactly awfully, openly mean, but his words are pretty cruel. So… be warned! Nancy makes an appearance as well!

You didn’t really peg Eddie Munson for a mean person. Intimidating, sure, tough because he needed to be - yeah. But outright cold and as nasty as his former bullies? You stand frozen, back against the cool wall of the hospital corridor. They’re still talking, bonding, two completely different people that never knew one another three months ago, yet they’re making it work. You’ve known the entirety of the party since this whole underworld shit began, roped in by being Dustin’s neighbor and giving him rides home from Hellfire for his mom.

No one ever called you outside of the world ending, outside of you taking a kid some place, bringing your random gifts, lending an ear on the phone when the trauma got too much. You weren’t invited to their gatherings, you weren’t in on their inside jokes, but you figured if you made yourself more approachable, more social. And seeing how they welcomed Eddie, someone you had admired since your freshman year - you were sure it was gonna work, that you were slowly being accepted. You helped defeat monsters and evil men, dark creatures, and underworlds. It was you who helped Steve Harrington drag Eddie’s bleeding and mauled body back into your world.

Since that night three months ago, you have done everything to help him. Brought his school work so he could graduate, promised to hand deliver his diploma if he wasn’t strong enough by mid June to walk across that stage, even saying you’d flip Higgins the double bird for him. You tried to help him plan campaigns, you bought him several tapes, and most recently - you’d taken up a magazine subscription of his favorite metal scene, just so he would have all copies. He was always so boisterous, making you melt and smile, and you wanted to help put some light back into his eyes after he’d lost a lot of that sparkle. The issue you got in the mail today, it looked promising, making you eager to take it to him on your lunch break from the video store.

Recently able to fight off your anxieties and getting into the workplace to cover shifts for Steve as he healed, you had extra money to spare and a pep in your step. But when you had reached Eddie’s room door in the hospital, Steve’s voice had halted you. You’d pressed your back aside and out of view, a smile on your lips as they mentioned you. They were gonna be your friends, maybe Eddie would even show you what certain things meant in the magazine, what he liked about their scene, his scene. You wanted to know so much about him, but could never muster the courage to ask.

“I thought the Princess was coming by today?” Your nickname. Not one in malice, but one gifted by your peers for your love of literature. It extended to everyone, apparently.

Your heart leapt, pulse in your throat, eyes casting down at the glossy cover in excitement. And then Eddie had sighed deeply, as if he was in pain. You were prepared to go and get a nurse, when he speaks out, “Seriously, dude?”

Your brows had knit in confusion, a gnawing starting in your stomach, a coolness chilling in your muscles, scraping apart your veins and brimming them full of ice. Steve confirmed, causing you to step back further out of sight. You should’ve left immediately, because you knew you were not going to be able to handle what Eddie’s reply would be, what you fooled yourself into thinking wouldn’t happen.

“What if I pretend to be asleep? Think she’ll leave and go bother someone else?”

A sharp ache pries apart your ribcage and fills it with hot ash, wafting smoke from the destruction suffocating your throat. The first wave of tears prickles your sclera, clouding your vision as your head bows.

“Munson…” Steve sighs.

“Listen, Harrington, I know I’m a freak, man, but she’s just weird. She doesn’t even know me and she subscribed to a magazine I have, just to bring me the issues. She tries to get involved in my campaigns. I know she drives Henderson around and that she’s fought all that nasty shit with you guys, but like… She’s not even in your ensemble of friends, is she?”

Your entire lifetime of actions involving them all flash in the forefront of your mind, and everything you went through by their sides.Have you done anything so out of the ordinary that none of them haven’t? You’re not loud, not like Eddie is, you’re not extremely quirky. You were sure you weren’t bothering anyone when you started being more vocal. Salt. You taste its first humiliating tang hit your lips, your tears free flowing.

“Not really.” Is what Steve responds with, prying back your subconscious with a crowbar and letting reality crack your skull open to let your insecurities flood you until you begin to feel the beginning stages of dissociating panic.

More than two years and you’re still considered a nobody to people you fought beside and nearly died for. People you convinced yourself that they just needed to know you, to see, and they would care about you just as much as you care about them. You realize, however, with a sickening irony, that Vecna must have been fooled by your sated mindset, thinking you weren’t alone and that you were happy, or he would’ve targeted you instead of someone else. And that part, the deep part that’s engraved into your DNA, rooted to every cell and particle, it bites back thoughts you try not to pin on yourself. Maybe he should’ve.

“Hey, Princess, what’s going on?” Her sweet perfume and her soft demeanor make your body feel like it’s weighted down, caught and unable to escape. You don’t look at her yet, turning your head to attempt (pathetically) to wipe your tears and clear your vision.

Steve and Eddie hear and the conversation is halted, their smiles happy and comfortable. But even as you bypass Nancy’s concerned looks, her question at your obviously panicked expression, forcing yourself to walk into the room with her to save face — you aren’t buying either boy’s look. It’s not you they’re happy to see. You shift, a discomfort squeezing your sternum and extending into your guts, anxiety using your esophagus as a trampoline and tempting your food to expel. You feel as if you’re not even here, that this isn’t real, that it’s a nightmare bigger than anything you’ve ever faced.

Dealing with demons and evil creatures that only existed in storybooks is one thing, but doing it alone, knowing that that’s all you’ve ever truly been… it’s worse than when you automatically followed Nancy into that rift to save Steve. No one called you after Vecna, sans one simple call from Steve to ask if you needed anything. But that was it. Your brain snaps back, still able to get you as you’re not all here. King Steve hated you, and not even this kind version cares for you.

You’ve kept the magazine at your side so far, and you let it fold in your tight grip, crushing and crumbling the pages, voice becoming weak and breathless as Steve asks why you’re here, a grin on his face, knowing already. Fuck this. You’re drowning and you need to get the fuck out of here.

“I have to go. I’m… I gotta go, I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, shatters your facade, and you don’t look at anyone.

Nancy leans out as you move quicker down the hallway, faster than anticipated. She watches your arm elongate and toss something into one of the janitorial cart’s trash cans.

“What the hell was that about?” Steve is confused, Eddie bewildered.

“I was gonna ask you guys. She looked upset before we even came in here,” Nancy responds.

“Didn’t you two walk in together? Maybe somebody bothered her, or she saw something?” Steve questions once more.

“We all agreed to give her space, just like we always do. So no, I didn’t want to crowd her. She was already here anyway, just standing outside the door and looking… I don’t know, lost? I’ve never seen the expression that was on her face before.”

Eddie feels as if something else entirely has re-stripped his recently healed skin. Steve swallows harshly and fixes Eddie with an immediate glare, both sharing realization and regret.

“She just trashed some magazine, maybe it was because of that —“

“Shit. Fuck, man.” Eddie finally speaks, starting to lift his upper body, his underused limbs protesting, stitched skin screaming.

“Stop, I’ll go, okay?” Steve interjects, resting bitch face activated and his jaw clenching, upset he let himself say what he did, and is already out the door, leaving Eddie to explain to the ever inquisitive Nancy Wheeler and her journalistic heart and soul.

By the time Steve catches up to you, jogging and slightly out of breath, he isn’t prepared to share his ex’s sentiment on your tormented expression. You look… demolished, haunted. Steve has felt it, a fragment of what bullshit you must be feeling, given what you’ve just heard. He’s done a lot of things, but he’s never felt more like an asshole than he does now, staring at your trembling hands that drop your car keys twice, your eyes so full of tears he wonders how you were even able to see to get out of the building and into the parking lot. He has the sudden overwhelming urge to wrap you into his arms and hold you. So he lets his instincts go and attempts to reach out.

You sound strangely reserved, settled. You smile sadly, wiping at your eyes, the skin raw and overheated. “No. I understand, okay. I got it. I really do. I’m fine.”

“Princess, you don’t have to —“

A beeping sounds off between the two of you, your fingers reaching into your belt loop and unclipping the beeper after a quick glance. You still don’t look at Steve. He can feel his own irises becoming shrouded with tears, his chest being clawed apart and dug into. It hurt more than any hive mind bats or Russian torture. You sidestep away from him, mumbling. “It’s Keith. I have to go.”

“It’s my shift, Princess,” Steve grasps your wrist in his big palm and squeezes, trying to pull you back to him, to convey, to express. He cares. He didn’t mean it in the way that you thought, “Please?”

You jerk yourself away from him. You look angry now, and wipe your nose at the same time Steve does - water finding his lash line.

“I took the shift. It’s fine. Goodnight.”

You’re falling apart as you turn around again, not permitting yourself to watch Steve and his attempts to amuse your anguish with pity - standing in the parking lot, wiping at his nose continuously, in your rear view.

Steve grits his teeth as the tears drip onto his cheeks, his hands running up into and through his hair. They beyond fucked up…

// Eat me paragraph //

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

i saw a youtube comment today on a video essay about the batman (2022) and i just felt the need to screenshot and share some things on it:

i’ve had thoughts about this for a while.

i wrote in a draft a while ago about how i love the costume design in the batman because it made each character feel like real people and i decided i might as well share those thoughts now.

the costume design in the batman was one of the key elements that drove this film home for me. it made it so much more gripping, because it humanized these characters we’ve grown to see as just drawings on a page. these aren’t superheroes and supervillains. they don’t have powers, they don’t live in a fantasy world. they’re people who wear combat boots with their capes and cut holes out of their cat-eared ski masks and wrap cellophane under their army/navy-surplus store hoods. they’re just people with skills and agendas and trauma who are just trying to fight their way through life in whatever way they think is necessary and right.

they don’t rely on their suits as their strength.

and to touch on the point the commenter made in the first part, about how bruce wouldn’t be a “master of dual lives”: i think that’s a perfect way to sum up this character at this point in his life. he’s only been the batman for two years. and during these two years he’s been acting as vengeance. he still harbors a lot of anger in him and it’s been radiating through the batman. he hasn’t learned how to compartmentalize those two sides of himself, if he ever will.

we’ve seen a little bit of this in other batman movies and other media, but not to this extent, in my opinion; not so that it is defining him as a character in this significant of a way. it adds so much more complexity and depth to bruce wayne and it makes it so much more realistic and believable.

one thing i think shows this really well is how bruce and batman ride the same bike throughout the film. it’s not an expensive bike. it’s not specially made with gadgets and a bat symbol, we don’t see a new bike for batman until the very end of the film.

the batman is no longer vengeance, he’s hope. and hope doesn’t hide in the shadows. hope isn’t waiting to find a fight. hope is a beacon, not a warning.

the dark knight trilogy was a turning point for superhero movies. it showed that they didn’t have to be campy and comic book-y. it showed that they can be gritty and poignant and cinematic. the batman just took that thought and elevated it to an even higher level by making these characters feel like real people. by adding even more complexity, more richness, more gravity to these characters we all know and love. and in a market as over saturated as batman, this take on the story was like taking a sip of water when you wake up in the middle of the night at three am: refreshing as hell.

i don’t know, maybe i’m rambling and maybe this is kind of all over the place. but i just love the symbolism in this film and i literally cannot wait to see what more incredible and genius moves matt reeves and the rest of the cast and crew make in part two.

[interstellarflare]

Don’t Blame Me || Homelander

-PART ONE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst, mature themes, 18+.

Summary: After several long and uneventful months since John’s abrupt departure, Vought’s plan to present the Cerberus project to the public as a superhuman taskforce roughly forces you back into working with The Boys. This time, things will be more difficult as new threats arise, and former friends turn against each other. And all for what? Love makes people crazy, and John will stop at nothing to protect you.

Authors Note: SEQUEL SERIES TO BEND AND BREAK. Here it is! The long awaited sequel to Bend and Break. I am so excited to be writing this, I have so many surprises in store that you guys simply aren’t ready for. If time permits with university starting back up again, I plan for this series to be a little longer than its predecessor. Unfortunately the update schedule will remain the same as I will be very busy, but any spare minute I have will be dedicated to getting this series out there. So please enjoy Don’t Blame Me. A tag list is currently open for anyone wishing to be notified for future parts. Gif by @linusbenjamin

John was staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t read. No one had ever looked at you like that before, with such emotion, with such - 

Pain...there was so much pain.

The air was taken from your lungs as John flinched. Blood splattered the front of his uniform, tiny horrifying droplets coating his skin. A strange warmth suddenly spread over your chest, a deep rumbling cough caused the pain in your chest to increase. Blood dribbled from your mouth. Your blood.

The ringing in your ears became louder and louder, drowning out the terror-filled shouts from downstairs, and John’s frantic cries.

The last thing you saw was his furious expression. His blue eyes glowing a bright red in rage, hatred, and pure madness.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as you sat upright in bed, awaking in a cold sweat and panting heavily.

Your eyes darted around the room as your hands clutched at your chest, your fingertips grazing the scarred tissue of the bullet wound below your collar bone. As the ringing in your ears began to subside, and the echo of the gunshot stopped bouncing off the walls, you released a long and shaky sigh. You buried your head in your hands, trying to dispell the sick feeling forming in your stomach as you sat there motionless, breathing deeply through the nausea.

Over the last month, this had become a regular occurance. The nighmares of your accident had begun to haunt your dreams, and it was something that you couldn’t seem to escape. You didn’t understand why this was happening now. It had been several quiet months since you had been shot, and it was now that your trauma from that moment had decided to come back and bite you in the ass.

Great. Just what you needed.

The nausea had somewhat eased, enough for you to now lift your head from your hands and turn your gaze towards your bedroom window. A single beam of light flowed through the curtains, creating a bright line along the carpeted floor. You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with small yawn. The sound of a gentle knock coming from your apartment door caused an annoyed groan to escape your lips. You were tempted to just lie back down and bury your head under the covers, had it not been for the knock getting louder and harsher.

“Y/n? Are you awake? I made some breakfast and wanted to know if you were interested. Max is already inside and he’s about to eat everything if you don’t hurry up”.

You chuckled lightly as Ben’s voice travelled through your apartment, rolling your eyes as you forced yourself out of your bed. Throwing on an old sweater over your pyjamas, you trudged through the hallway into your living room and over to the door, opening it with a half-sleepy smile. You were met with those soft piercing green hues, peering down at you with a gentle grin. “Good morning...” You spoke roughly, clearing your throat with an awkward huff “was Max out here when you came over to ask me?”

“Oh no, he had been knocking on your door for about ten minutes before I let him in” Ben replied, chuckling loudly as you buried your head in your hands out of embarressment. You peeked up at him through your fingers, giggling softly as you shook your head. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear him at all-”

“Don’t worry about it, honestly...” Ben interrupted, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned against your doorframe “the kid is adorable. I’ve got a soft spot for him.”

“Doesn’t everyone” You replied saracstically, giving him a teasing glare as Ben rolled his eyes. Stepping away from your doorframe, he motioned his head towards his open apartment door across the hall “Get inside”.

You laughed, moving past him with a small smile as you entered his apartment. It was nowhere as neat as yours, but it had its own, slightly messy charm that you didn’t seem to mind. It more disorganised than messy, with a few things out of place, and a random jacket or shirt tossed somewhere obsurely in the room. As you lifted your gaze towards the kitchen, you shook your head with a laugh as you spotted your nephew, mouth full of pancakes with cheeks full like a chipmunk. He grinned up at you through his food, speaking a muffed “Good moring!” as he continued to shovel in more.

“Okay, why don’t you slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick” you scolded, making your way over to your nephew’s side and peering over his shouler to give his temple a quick kiss in greeting. Max swallowed, spinning to face you as you made your way over towards the kettle “Hey! I was standing outside your apartment for hours! I’m starving-”

“It wasn’t hours...” Ben interrupted, walking over and placing his hand atop Max’s head, ruffling his hair “don’t lie to your aunt”. You laughed, rolling your eyes as you disappeared into the kitchen, deciding to prepare some toast for yourself. You decided that something simple was best, since your stomach was still feeling a litte uneasy. You could feel Ben’s presence behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“You had another nightmare again, didn’t you?” he asked quietly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the sensetive spot behind your ear. You shivered and sighed, shaking your head with a small groan. “How did you know?”

“I can hear your heartbeat, it’s beating like crazy. Although that could be because of me-”

“It’s not because of you...” You replied shortly, slyly slipping out of his grasp and turning to face him with an annoyed expression, “You can stop pretending you’re interested in me, I know Butcher had you move in here to protect me.”

“You don’t know that” Ben chuckled, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the countertop, “you’re a very attractive wom-”

“You’re also the father of my ex-boyfriend...” You spoke blatantly, choking back laughter at the shocked expression that formed on Ben’s face. His eyes widened, a deer in headlights as his lips parted as he struggled to find a retort. Grinning victoriously, your eyes narrowed into a playful glare as you turned to face the kitchen dooray, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Watch yourself, Soldier Boy. You lay a hand on me that way, and Butcher will have your head.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Ben held his hands up defensively, before his form disappeared from your view as you made your way back over to your nephew. With his eyes wide and beaming, his cheeks stained with syrup and cream, you laughed with a small shake of your head. “Come on you, let’s get you to school...” You sighed, ushering him out of his chair and towards the door, “just give me a minute to go change, and then we’ll get going, okay? Go sit in my living room.”

With a loud enthusiastic ‘goodbye!’, Max raced out of Ben’s apartment and into yours, grabbing his bag on the way. As you walked across the hall and into your apartment, you paused in the doorway and turned back towards’s Ben’s. He was standing in the living room, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a small but respectful smile. “When did you figure it out?” He asked quietly, his head tilting slightly in confusion as he waited for your reply.

You rolled your eyes with a knowing smile, “Which part? That Butcher put you here, or that you’re my ex-boyfriend’s dad?”

“Both...” He replied awkwardly, “the second part isn’t exactly public knowledge.”

You hummed in thought, before replying honestly. “I had my suspicions, but truthfully...I just asked Hughie.”

“Jesus woman-”

“Aw, you thought I was smart.”

“I know you are, that’s what scares me.”

You stuck out your tongue in reply, stepping into your apartment and closing the door harshly. Now in the privacy of your own home, a huge weight began to settle in your chest. That sick feeling in your stomach began to come back as you moved to rest your forehead against the door. You knew that Butcher meant well, by placing Ben in the apartment across from yours. But it still felt strange, especially knowing what you knew now.

With a long and heavy sigh, you pushed away that aching feeling in your chest and turned around to be met with Max’s questioning expression, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he examined your form. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking you over completely for any signes of distress. Nodding your head, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m alright buddy, I’ll get changed and we’ll go okay” you replied, giving your nephew a small assuring wink before disappearing into your bedroom. Changing into a pair of worn shorts, an old t-shirt and an old black sweater you blieved belonged to an old supe friend, you emerged from your bedroom and grabbed your car keys from the kitchen counter. “You ready bud?”

“Fuck yeah, let’s go!” Max cheered, jumping up from the couch whilst slinging his backpack over his shoulders. Your eyes widened and a shocked gasp escaped your lips. “MAX! No swearing!” You scolded, glaring down at the young boy with your mouth open in disbelief. Your nephew folded his arms over his chest, pouting as he moved to follow you back out into the hall. “Billy let’s me swear-”

“Billy is not a role model!” You shrieked, shoving your nephew through the door and laughing loudly whilst Max giggled evilly. 

Tag List: @motionless-friction @apollonshootafar @bronze-metal @laceyauandromedus @escritora-de-imagines @life-is-a-cruel-game @sabrinaselina55 @madamestarlight @quixscentsposts @hc-official @bluemarsuniverse @naxxsstuff @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @liajiah @mystical-wonderland-of-me @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @staplerrrr @how-am-i-serpose-to-know @gingerwrites @prurose @the-number7 @miss-puregotti @marcshonda @kahelis @ddeandracnight @morven-aranea @dawnwriterimagines @lost-redstart @firelonewolf @soft-damergrove @clean-soap @coloursunlimited @cynthianokamaria @shilsvampsinger @freshmakertaco @starlight-boo @lauraaan182 @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco @shilsvampsinger @cynthianokamaria @delicatetimetravelarcade @coloursunlimited @clean-soap @themarch-oftheblackqueen @soft-hargreeves @kennedywxlsh @itskatrinahere @morven-aranea @sublimebearalienhuman @unlikelyllamanerd @charmed-asylum @nati-epic-jelly @micksschumi @transformers-insanity @sam-quinn @lover1307​ @nerdytif​ @jinnieats​ 

[tuwlips]

Nanami smiles when he sees you twirling in your favourite dress in front of the mirror. Arms crossed leaning against the door, he sees you playing with your hair and feeling pretty about yourself.

Nanami hugs you from behind while you check yourself in the mirror and kisses your cheek. Gives you a twirl in front of the mirror. Peppers you in kisses while you laugh and giggle. It’s like music to his ears.

“I feel good about my body today. I feel pretty.” “You’re pretty to me everyday.”

Nanami feels all warm and happy when he sees you feeling pretty about yourself. It’s not like you hate your body or appearance but you struggle with accepting that part of yourself a lot sometimes.

Nanami tells you you’re beautiful at least once everyday. And no it’s not to make you feel better. It’s because to him you’re the most beautiful girl.

Nanami takes you shopping to your favourite clothing stores and buys you every cute dress and accessories you get. He loves seeing you dress up in clothes you’re comfortable in.

Nanami helps you pick clothes and also picks some himself which he thinks so would look absolutely perfect on you.

Nanami falls in love with you all over again when you walk out of the dressing room wearing one of the dresses he picked himself for you.

Nanami has such a high school crush on you. He feels like a high school boy who can’t stop looking at his high school sweetheart because she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Nanami buys you cute earrings and loves how they look on you. Is over the moon (but won’t show) when he sees you wearing them all day everyday.

Nanami knows your struggles with your body and how you fight everyday to overcome that. Whether it be your past body shaming trauma or struggles with eating, he’s seen it all and is so proud of you for fighting through it.

Nanami has been with you through all of it. Holding you, reminding you everyday that you’re such a beautiful girl. Both inside and out. Cooking you food which you find comfortable to eat. Making you smile. Kissing your nose which makes you giggle. When you smile, that’s when his day becomes a good one.

Nanami always being ready to defend, if anyone makes even the slightest bit of judgement towards you about your body or appearance. He can’t stand the girl he loves so much getting disrespected.

Nanami steals small glances at you every now and then. He never takes you for granted and tells himself he’s really lucky to have someone like you. A person who lights up his day like no other.

To Nanami, you’re like a strawberry shortcake. Beautiful, sweet and filled with love. You remind him of everything sweet and honey filled. You’re like a favourite sweet bakery treat. Because Nanami just can’t get enough of you. You’re just such a pretty girl.

You’re his pretty girl 🎀

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Solstice Tree Farm

(Christmas Tree Farm)

Azriel x Reader

A Taylor Swift inspired ACOTAR fic

This can be read as stand alone but is a follow up taking place on the solstice before the epilogue of this one shot: Part 1: Ivy (Covered in You)

warnings: sexual content, suggestive language, language, alcohol

Az held my hand tightly, warming the chill of my freezing hands. “Holidays can be hard. Five hundred years later and I still get hit with pangs of sadness when memories of my childhood creep their way to the forefront of my thoughts.”

“Yeah,” I frowned. “That makes sense. Trauma never really disappears, we just learn to cope with it.”

He nodded, giving me a soft smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll always be here to help you through the hard times, Y/N. Whether you need a listening ear, space, or words of understanding.”

My eyes lined with silver as I leaned my head gently against his shoulder “I love you, Az.”

He brushed a kiss to my forehead, his plush lips warming me from the inside out. “And I love you. Always.”

My steps halted as I spotted a new wine bar lit up with the sound of its patrons friendly laughter rolling out the front doors. “Oh, I need to get Mor a bottle of wine and I hear they have a perfectly spiced mulled wine here that is imported from Winter.”

Az put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. I browsed the selections, snagging the wine Mor had raved about. We had started an annual tradition of wrapping gifts together while each downing a bottle of wine. It was no surprise that the more gifts we wrapped, the sloppier our wrapping jobs became. The special tradition between my friend and I both filled Az’s heart with warmth and…. made his eye twitch just a little bit. Ever the perfectionist, my mate. His wrappings were always the neatest of the inner circle.

As we browsed the aisles of the wine bar’s shopping section, something caught my eye. A Chardonnay imported from Vallahan - the same wine that was shared between my former husband and I at our wedding.

Nausea roiled in my stomach, the room suddenly feeling too hot. “Az, I… I need to get out of here.” His brows furrowed with concern but he asked no questions as he quickly stepped with me out of the store.

My heart raced. I loathed my husband, his death at my hands was deserved, and I did not miss my life in Vallahan at all. However, there was still blood coating my hands and I was not a violent person.

Az looked to me and I knew that his shadows, my favorite one in particular, noticed the wine too. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

“No, I just needed air. I can find mulled wine for Mor elsewhere I’m sure.”

Az offered to go back into the store to get it but I gripped his hand tightly, needing his presence to keep me grounded.

Digging through my mind for any other topic, I asked, “Have you ever seen the bears from the Winter Court?”

Az smiled as we resumed our walking, “I have several times over the centuries. They were also a valuable resource during the war with Hybern.”

I thought for a moment. “I’d like to see them some day.”

We walked for another fifteen or so minutes before I finally asked to return home, fatigue overtaking me. Az swooped me up in his arms and flew me back to the townhouse. We’d occupied it as our personal residence for years now, thanks to Rhysand and Feyre’s generosity.

We could have purchased another house in the city but this one held so many memories to Az, memories of our family, staying there made me feel like I had been a part of their lives for much longer.

~~~~~~~

The next morning, I slept in longer than normal. Azriel had to leave early for a meeting with Cass and Rhys. He left a note stating he’d be home with pastries from our favorite bakery in a few hours.

He’d been so busy recently with work. I had been busy too. I’d taken to assisting Feyre and Ressina at the studio. The children warmed my heart and while I was not good with painting, I loved working with my hands. Each year at solstice, I’d taken to offering crafting classes for the littles to make gifts. It filled my heart with even more joy than I thought possible.

I stretched, as I awoke from bed. My body aching from whatever odd position I seemed to fall asleep in last night. Az and I had every intention of “heating things up” after we’d shopped but I fell asleep while he rubbed my back. He must have sensed that I needed the rest - the reprieve from the depths of my mind - as he let me be.

While I definitely appreciated his thoughtfulness, part of me wished he would have woken me. Tiredness aside, I was hungry for his touch, every nerve in my body screaming out for him. Just thinking about it made my breasts heavy and aching to feel him on me, my thighs squeezing tightly together to relieve the ache if only slightly

I thought about taking the time to scratch that particular itch myself but I had to get ready for my afternoon class.

~~~~~~~

The class went well. Feyre had stopped by to see the children and do some painting in her office. She’d squeezed me tightly, placing a kiss on each cheek in greeting. Gratitude filled me for how accepting she’d been of me when I first came to Velaris from Vallahan. The whole family instantly made me feel welcome, we’d grown so close over the past 10 years.

After the class, Feyre and I decided to visit a nearby tea parlor - chatting about everything from art and politics to Nyx and holiday plans. I laughed as she shared a story of Rhys sneaking off with Nyx to “attend court business” with Kallias and Viviane - but instead it was just to have the pair and their children train Rhys and Nyx on the latest snowball fighting techniques. Anything to gain a competitive edge for their own annual fight at the cabin.

After a while, Feyre reached across the table to squeeze my hand. Her blue-gray eyes meeting mine as she asked if I was doing okay. Daemati abilities aside, she was naturally very perceptive of emotions. I finally confessed to her that I hadn’t been in the holiday spirit this year when normally it was my favorite time of the year. She’d offered comfort in return and shared her own stories of times that she had struggled during the season as well, adding that Rhys had especially struggled after returning from under the mountain

It was reassuring to hear that my family understood the underlaying feelings of melancholy that could rise to the surface during such a joyous season.

When I arrived back to the townhouse, I was greeted with a box of pastries and a note from Az apologizing that we’d missed eachother.

I definitely needed the visit with Feyre but felt a bit guilty for missing him. In true Azriel fashion, there was an arrow pointing to the back of the note:

“Don’t you dare feel guilty for not being home. I’m glad that you and Feyre spent time together.”

Momentarily confused by how he knew where I’d been, the glazed look Feyre had gotten at one point during our tea time came back to me. Gods, daemati powers would be convenient.

~~~~~~~

Azriel didn’t return home until late that night. I’d dozed off while reading on the couch, waking up to him carrying me back to our bed. I gave him a sleepy smile and informed him there was food from our favorite take away spot in the kitchen.

The strong hold of his muscled body pressing into me reignited the fire that had burned inside of me that morning. Clearly scenting my arousal he gave a feline grin. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Our joining that night was hard and fast. I came quickly which only fueled his male pride, by the time he was through with me I was completely and utterly satiated. I all but fell asleep on my mate before he lifted me off of him, curling into me. I awoke briefly in the night to find his wings encompassing us - the warmth and darkness quickly soothing me back to sleep.

~~~~~~~

Once again I woke to an empty bed. I couldn’t help the frown that formed at his departure. We always had an understanding of the unexpected absences that occurred with his work. Selfishly, I had just hoped to spend the morning in bed with him.

I leaned to my side of the bed to find a note reading,

“Don’t hate me for taking off so early. You just looked too beautiful, I couldn’t bring myself to wake a sleeping angel.

Rhys needed Cassian and I at the Hewn City, I promise I’ll be home soon.

I love you.”

I was loved and I was grateful. To go from a loveless marriage to a mated pairing so full of love that the only hint of sadness came from the absence of his presence. And then, even in his absence, he still made his love known. The thought made my stomach flutter.

The fluttering quickly went away as nausea rolled in. I’d forgotten to eat the take away food I brought home last night, falling asleep full of Az instead. I hadn’t eaten since scarfing down a pastry when I returned home from tea with Feyre.

I ran to the bathroom, dry heaved, and then made my way to the kitchen - instantly feeling better after reheating the leftovers from last night.

I took a bath and got ready for my afternoon class when I heard the door open, shadows greeting me before I even heard Azriel approach. He gave me a mischevious look, eyes gleaming.

He was up to something.

I smirked. “That look means trouble. What did you do?”

He just smiled, taking my hand and nodding his head toward our bedroom. “Come here.”

We entered the room and he snapped his fingers. Shadows taking it as a cue, they began swirling into a funnel of darkness. They cleared and two suitcases appeared in their absence. Mine had a gorgeous knee-length cobalt blue wool coat hanging next to it along with a matching scarf and hat, and lined leather gloves.

I looked to Az, filled with excitement and confusion. “The coat and accessories are absolutely gorgeous, and in your color! I couldn’t love them more. Thank you.” I nodded toward the suitcases, “What about those though?”

“We’re going on a trip.” He smiled. “I talked to Feyre and she’ll cover your classes while we’re gone.”

“You packed my bags?” I asked.

“I’m your mate. I know what you like.” A playful look of arrogance masking his face.

“Alright, Spymaster, I’m at your disposal.”

Before I could follow up with questions the luggage disappeared and Azriel took my hand launching us into a winnow.

~~~~~~~

My jaw dropped. Before me in a snow covered clearing surrounded by large mountains and spruce trees of all sizes was a barn transitioned into a home. It was absolutely stunning with twinkling fae lights outside, a warm glow shining from within. The house was decked with spruce and evergreen branches, boughs of holly, each window and door donning wreaths.

“Az? Is this where we are staying?” I marveled.

“Welcome to the Winter Court, my love. Kallias and Viviane are letting us use their evergreen farm as a getaway.” His smile shone brighter than any of the twinkling fae lights. He gestured toward the door, “Come, take a look around.”

Once again, my jaw fell as I took in the inside of the barn turned lodge. A fire warmed the room from the massive stone fireplace, illuminating the reclaimed wood accents filling the place. Huge fur rugs blanketed the floor of the open loft. In a corner of the space, situated in front a wall of windows was a spruce tree that had to be twenty feet tall, decked with ornate trimmings.

“This is……. It’s incredible, Az. I don’t know what to say.” I leaned into him, sending waves of adoration and gratitude down our bond, to which he sent back a surge of love.

Taking my hand, he walked me to the plush sectional couch in front of the fire where warm mugs of cocoa, mints, and a tray of various Winter Court delicacies for grazing awaited.

“I’m sorry…” he sat, pulling me down into his lap before continuing, “for leaving this morning. I know the past few weeks have been difficult for you and after our excursion into the city the other day,” he cut off, eyes filling with empathy. “Well, I thought maybe we could use a pre-solstice getaway. I came here to prepare everything for us beforehand. There’s no better place to get into the holiday spirit than the Winter Court.”

My eyes teared up as emotions flooded me. Gods, I am such a sap. But this male, he never failed to amaze me. His love and devotion to me was euphoric. Nothing in the world could match the high of being with him.

“I love you, Az,” I choked up. “Thank you. This is incredible.”

He wiped a lone tear that fell onto my face and replaced it with a kiss.

The single kiss relit that flame smoldering inside me as I straddled his lap, pressing my mouth to his, tongues and teeth crashing into eachother. In between breaths he managed to get out “Do.” kiss. “You.” Deeper kiss. “Want to” a kiss to the column of his neck. “Go out t-.” a nip to the neck and a heated kiss to take away the pain. “Fuck it.” he ground out before ripping my top off and pinning me underneath him. I snapped my fingers and the rest of our clothes disappeared completely.

~~~~~~~

One hour? Two hours? Three, maybe? blissful hours later, he carried me to the bathroom where a hot bath awaited us. My body ached for it. Az stepped in, setting us both down and situating me between his legs. He rubbed my tense shoulders, a particularly deep knead making my eyes roll back into my head and an involuntary moan escape my lips. “Fuck,” he cursed. “That moan.” He repeated the motion on the opposite shoulder, garnering the same involuntary response. “So. pretty.” He said, voice low, dripping with lust.

Those words alone caused me to rest my head back on his chest, looking up into his eyes. His renewed arousal incredibly evident against my back. He firmly placed a calloused hand on my neck, leaning down to kiss me. Hard. Before I could turn around, he gripped my hips. Strong arms lifted me up before sinking me down onto him, inch by torturous inch bringing the sweetest pleasure back to my body.

~~~~~~~

After a long bath that may or may not have needed to be reheated not once but twice, and sliding into the most comfortable bathing robe to ever grace my skin, we padded to the bedroom.

This room was the type of room that one could enter and be totally content never leaving. A massive four poster bed situated on top of a fluffy white rug called to me. Its blankets and pillows could swallow myself, my large Illyrian mate, and his massive wings. A fire warmed the space and the floor to ceiling window overlooked a hillside at the edge of the clearing, city lights burned brightly down below as coin sized snowflakes fell lazily from the sky.

Candles were lit around the room and fae lights softly illuminated the space. A knock from the outside door interrupted my moment of awe. Az pointed toward a box on the bed, stating he would be right back.

Not sure who could possibly visiting us, I padded over to the bed and opened the gift wrapped box. Inside lay a silken robe and matching sheer night gown. My heart fluttered as once again, the gown was dyed a gorgeous cobalt blue. I dropped the heavy robe I was wearing to dress myself in the see-through gown barely reaching below my ass, the new robe, and matching thong. I sighed at the luxurious feeling of silk lightly caressing my more intimate areas.

“Gods.” Az spoke lowly from the door behind me. “You’ve always been devastating in my color, but this…. I’m starting to think that this is YOUR color. You’re an absolute goddess.”

I turned as he carried in a tray of steaming food. “I had this delivered from the city’s Solstice Market.”

My stomach rumbled at the sight of the stuffed bread, potato pancakes, and sausages on the platter before me.

“Oooh, Az, this is incredible! You’ve really thought of everything.” I looked at him intently. “Thank you, my love, truly.”

He smiled and placed the tray on a table for two set up in the room. I grinned as the smells of the food wafted toward me, “let me run to the kitchen and see if there’s a wine cabinet!”

“Sorry darling, it seems that is the one thing that I didn’t think of. But we do have hot apple cider.” He motioned to a kettle on the large tray that I’d somehow overlooked.

“That’s perfect!” I reached to the kettle and poured a mug of it. The absolutely divine smell of it filling my nose.

~~~~~~~

I awoke the next morning in Azriel’s arms. His wings cocooning us protectively. I turned around to face him, peppering kisses to his lips, nose, and cheeks.

His eyes slowly fluttered open and my heart nearly stopped at the sight of his gold-flecked hazel eyes and long, dark eyelashes. Nearly ten years in and the full effect of him never failed to awe me.

After dinner the previous night, we had cuddled on the bed as his fingers lifted up the hem of my nightgown. He traced lazy circles and lines up and down my waist, the dips of my hips, my abdomen, he spent extra time and attention on my breasts: tracing, tweaking, and gently pulling my nipples, as if he’d never touched them before. I, of course, encouraged the behavior by arching back into him and letting out an occasional soft moan.

At one point, he just stopped all motion, staring deeply into my eyes. Wonder and adoration shone as he stared, as if he too had never lost his awe toward me. We had eachother three more times during the night. Something about the intimate getaway felt like accepting the bond all over again.

I snapped from my thoughts as Az playfully nipped at my ear, retracting his wings from around us.

I looked toward the outside, snow capped mountains gleaming under the sunlight. “What’s on your agenda for us today?”

“That is a secret for me to know, and you to find out later.”

Running a single finger down the length of his chest, torso, lower - I cooed. “I hear that I can be quite convincing, Spymaster.”

His only response, a smack to my ass, “Come on, greedy. That would spoil the fun.”

Begrudgingly I got out of the bed, the warm rug beneath feeling like heaven on my feet.

~~~~~~~

After a delightful breakfast at a cafe in the city, Azriel led me toward a massive building on the outskirts of it, on the opposite side of the palace grounds. Several males posted themselves outside of the structure - one of which recognized Az immediately.

“Azriel, it’s good to see you.” The burly white haired man boomed. “Is this your lovely mate that I’ve heard so much about? I heard that your High Lord and High Lady are quite smitten with her.”

Az greeted the male politely, “Hello Klaus, yes, this would indeed be the exquisite Y/N.”

I smiled as the male shook my hand. “A pleasure to meet you Y/N. Did Azriel tell you what you’re here for today?”

I rolled my eyes tossing a mock glare at Azriel. “No, this Spymaster seems to be quite full of secrets.”

The male laughed, a loud jovial sound. “Let’s not waste time then! Come and see my pride and joy.”

I stepped into the building and my eyes filled with wonder. What was already a massive building outside was truly enormous inside, clearly some kind of glamour hid the true size from onlookers. What really caught my eye, however, were the acres upon acres of training, feeding, and sleeping quarters, along with the armory - none of it on the ground level designed to house or clothe fae, but for animals. Throughout the building were soldiers and animals training side my side, working in unison. White foxes, antlered deer, and there…. Toward the back of the building, my heart skipped a beat, giant white bears! Some wearing armor, some lazily lounging along indoor pools, trainers even brushed the creatures to which they seemed to enjoy the feeling of bristles running through their thick fur.

Klaus spent hours walking us through the grounds of the facility. I teared up when given the opportunity to brush one of the bears. I felt like a child next to such a large creature. I was aware of the danger they posed, but how could anyone resist the opportunity to spend time with a creature with cute little ears like that. They couldn’t be THAT much of a threat to me…. so long as I wasn’t an enemy. The bear seemed to agree as it tilted its head toward me in a pleading manner, as if to say: “Ah yes, right there. Scratch behind my ear just there. That’s the spot.”

It turned out that Klaus was the head of the Winter Court’s animal forces. A highly revered position in their armies, essentially a step below Cassian’s rank in the Night Court. When we were leaving, Klaus told me to come back anytime, kissing my hand in parting. Azriel instinctively sidled himself closer to me, if Klaus noticed, he didn’t show it.

Fae mates. So territorial.

~~~~~~~

After our tour of the training facility, Azriel took us on a reindeer drawn sleigh ride through the remainder of castle grounds. We cozied up together under a blanket, sipping hot cocoa and taking in the beauty of the court.

It turned out that Mor pulled strings with Viviane as such tours were a rare privilege. I teared up yet again, thinking of the effort my mate and best friend put into making this Winter Solstice so special.

I was sure to thank Azriel thoroughly that night. Five times to be exact.

~~~~~~~

The next morning came too quickly, Azriel and I refusing to leave the bed until our stomachs grumbled in unison.

We headed to the Solstice Market for the remainder of our gift shopping. I found a gorgeous bracelet for Amren, the gems mined from a frozen over cave in the heart of the Winter Court. For Feyre, I purchased paints with unique pigments inspired by the terrain of the court. I continued checking names off of my gift list, until all that was left was Mor.

It may have been strange, but what were boundaries between two best friends - I was able to acquire a similar set of lingerie to the one Azriel had purchased for me in a shade of red that would perfectly compliment her features. Azriel rolled his eyes at me in amusement.

I’d also found a particularly smutty sapphic novel for her thanks to the recommendation of a friendly shopkeeper - I picked up a copy for myself too.

Azriel and I then strolled to the wine vendors - this was where the trip took quite a turn.

I bought several bottles of the mulled wine Mor adored along with boxes of decadent chocolates. The vendor was kind, and rather chatty. We talked for twenty minutes or so and were about to leave when he offered us complimentary glass mugs of the spiced wine to warm us on our walk back toward the lodge. Az quickly declined…. For both of us. I playfully huffed stating that I had no objections to such a kind offer. Azriel’s expression grew concerned as he once again waved off the offer.

The male working at the stand watched as I stood disregarding Az’s strange objection. I kept my hand held out waving Azriel off with the other. The vendor clearly knew better than to deny a lady who was clear about what she wanted and handed over the glass.

Azriel then growled. GROWLED.

I turned around to walk away, Az on my tail. I lifted the glass to take a sip when one of his shadows, not just any shadow, my FAVORITE one - restrained my wrist.

Little traitor.

“What the hell, Az!?” I asked. Quietly enough to not cause a scene but loudly enough to convey my frustration toward him. He paused for a moment - a rare show of conflict troubled his face. “We…. We need to talk.” he said and winnowed us straight back to the lodge.

~~~~~~~

Upon arrival, I stormed into the lodge. “Do you think I have a drinking problem or something? What is it, Az? It’s so unlike you to act like this. First the territorial bullshit when Klaus kissed my hand, now taking away my choice in what I want to drink?” My traitorous body let tears slip.

Az said nothing. He stared at me for a moment, before walking up to me and grasping me into his arms, his warm embrace enveloping me. I wanted to pull away but couldn’t. His scent and warmth were intoxicating, placating me.

He kissed the top of my head, his arms still embracing behind me and moving upward, brushing his fingers through my hair before pulling back. His arms released as he took my face in his hands, hazel eyes filled with an emotion I’d never seen before.

“Baby.” He got out. Voice cracking.

“Yes? What?”

“Baby.” His eyes rimmed with tears.

“What Az? What is it? Just tell me.”

His face cracked into a smile full of wonder, the tears spilling. “You’re pregnant.”

Oh?

Oh!

“Ohhhhhh.” I managed to get out. Everything clicking into place. The emotions, the random bouts of nausea, fatigue, the mild aches in my body…the constant need to have Azriel buried inside of me.

“Gods.” I muttered next. “This explains so much! How did you figure it out? WHEN did you figure it out?”

Azriel maintained his composure, resting a hand on each of my arms while running his thumbs soothingly up and down them. “I think my body knew first. I was waking up with my wings around you protectively - normally that only happens intentionally but this time it was involuntary. And then, you started showing signs similar to those when you’re approaching your cycle but… it’s been less than two months since the last one. I couldn’t sense the shift in your scent yet but something deep within me kept telling me to observe.”

Running a hand through his hair, he continued: “Then we came here and it felt like the mating bond snapped into place all over again. The night that we were laying in bed and I was tracing my fingers along your body… your curves felt just slightly more enticing - I don’t… I don’t know how to explain it, but when I ran my fingers to your breasts they were so full, so heavy. Initially I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in trying to stave off my arousal, to allow you to rest but then it hit me. The softest hint of rose. The same scent Rhys described when Feyre…”

I cut him off. “The look, the one you gave me of wonder and awe - that’s when it hit you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Az replied. “Are you upset?”

“Upset? No! Never! Azriel,” I choked out. “This life with you is the most incredible gift. Having you as my mate, our chosen family, and now this life growing inside of me - this beautiful life created of the love you’ve so wholeheartedly given me. It’s so much more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

Words evaded Azriel as he embraced me, sobs wracking his body- pure joy and unconditional love flooded from him through me. As his sobs settled he pulled back to look at me, eyes filled with promise. “I swear to love and protect the two of you until the end of time. My heart was already wholly yours but now, somehow it’s been filled so much more than I knew possible. Our child will know only love from us. A beacon of hope shining from the darkness of our own childhoods.”

I looked up to him, reciprocating the feelings of joy and love through our bond.

“I love you.” I vowed.

“Oh baby” he kissed my lips.

“Oh baby” he knelt down to kiss my still flat abdomen.

“Happy Solstice. I love you.”

[ficmashup]

Caretaker

A/N: I should probably put summaries on these, but I'm terrible at brevity. Clearly. But wow some people actually like this and I'm blushing and kicking my feet. :) Thanks for interacting! Sorry this one is a bit more team-based than Price-based, but honestly the way to that man's heart is through his men. He's such a dad and I love him for it.

Warnings: Vague SA references or similar trauma, stabbing, harsh language, f!reader, talk of being shot, wound care.

Word Count: 3.8k

Feral Masterlist

What really puts the team and I’s tenuous connection to the test is when Soap gets stabbed.

We’re two months in. I’m just a soldier and medic today, on the ground with the rest of the group as we clear a warehouse storing some enemy supplies that we’re…appropriating. My focus is razor sharp, easily directing my hyperactive fight or flight instinct into looking around every corner and keeping a sharp ear out for any noise. Soap and Ghost are on the other side of the building doing the same, Price pulling up the rear.

Gaz and I both hear the scuffle and stop in our tracks before Ghost’s voice comes over coms. “Soap’s hit. Eastern corner.” We start moving immediately and I slide my gun wrapped around my body to my back as we reach them, the boys already forming a circle around Soap as they watch his back. I’m on my knees at his side the second I reach him, my hand pushing down hard on his thigh as I take in the handle sticking out just above his hip.

His body is held taut and his jaw is locked, clearly trying to stay quiet and still. “Alright, Soap, I’ve got you.” I murmur while Price gives orders to the boys. Gaz and him split up, more than likely going to clear the rest of the building while Ghost stays in the shadows next to me to watch our backs.

Soap grunts. “Good to know, G.”

I guide his hand to my knee and press it there so he can squeeze when the pain gets too bad. It helps my patient and gives me a good indicator of their pain levels. My fingers are ginger as I rip his shirt a bit more, moving it and his tac vest up enough to see the wound. “Didn’t hit anything vital, you lucky bastard. I can patch you up here, then treat this properly at camp.” I’m already doing it as I tell him, my med-kit open on the concrete floor beside me. I gather two pills in my hand and reach up, tilting his chin to look at me. “Swallow.” His eyes widen a touch and he lets me slip the pills past his lips before his throat flexes as he swallows. “Good. Those will kick in and take away some of the pain on the walk back, but I can’t wait until then. So, I need you hold onto me because this’ll hurt like a bitch.”

I hold his gaze, making sure he knows I mean it and he nods. With gauze packed around the blade, I yank it out without hesitation and Soap chokes. “Fuck.” He curses and his fists clench, his fingers digging into my thigh while I move quickly to staunch the blood flow. Price and Gaz return, nodding to Ghost to give the all clear. The warehouse is empty except for us.

“And here I was thinking Scots were more creative with their cursing.” I goad him a bit to distract him and he huffs a laugh.

“If you wanted me to teach you curses, lass, you should have asked.”

“Think I just did. You going to disappoint a girl?”

Another dry chuckle leaves him and I glance at his face to see a crooked smile despite the pain. “Ah, well, awa’ n bile yer heid is Ghost’s favorite. Means go fuck yourself.” The aforementioned soldier grumbles as he slides through the shadows to settle a few feet from Soap’s head.

“Shouldn’t have gotten him started. Now he won’t shut up.” Gaz comments good-naturedly from my left, he and Price watching as I work. That’s exactly my plan. If Soap’s talking, he’s not thinking about the pain.

“Definitely seems like Ghost’s favorite. Does he hear it often?” I’m nearly done now as I make sure the bandages are as tight as I can safely make them while holding Soap’s gaze again, drawing his attention with a direct look.

He takes a sharp breath, but grins through the pain. “Often enough, eh, LT?” He teases while glancing towards the Lieutenant.

Ghost doesn’t budge from where he watches us. “Couldn’t say. I only pay attention when you speak English.” Soap chuckles at that before I rest a hand on his shoulder and glance at Ghost, tilting my head to his other side. He moves there instantly while I look into Johnny’s eyes again.

“Time to get up. Lean on us and remember that the meds will kick in. Just keep moving for me, yeah?” My voice is calm and firm. I ease him up into a sitting position while he grimaces, but nods. Ghost and I share a look as we move simultaneously to get Soap up onto his feet. He groans and I brace a hand against his bindings to make sure they hold fast. As soon as I meet Price’s eyes, he nods and we start moving out.

Gaz moves towards me to take Soap, but I give him a sharp look. I’m the medic, the sick and injured are my responsibility. I keep Soap’s arm around my shoulders and push ahead with Ghost on his other side. The whole time I keep him talking quietly, distracting him and verbally poking him to keep his mind occupied. A single mention of his favorite football team sends him on a rant for five minutes straight and I don’t think I mistake seeing Ghost’s mask twitch as he smiles.

Gaz and Price are quiet as we make slow progress forward, letting me do my work, but I feel their eyes on us every now and then. Especially on me. Things go a bit easier when the pain pills I gave him kick in and Soap is practically back to himself by the time we get back to camp. Ghost helps me lay him down while everyone else packs up. We were planning to leave tomorrow, but tonight serves just as well.

Gingerly, I help Soap out of his tac vest and shirt before taking a proper look at the wound. “How’s the pain, soldier?” I set his hand on my knee again as I check to see how much blood has seeped into the gauze.

“Three. Barely twinges.” He responds and I give him a critical look as his grip on my leg tightens just a touch as I check my work. But I don’t call him out on it.

“It’s not too bad.” I tell him honestly as I remove the bandages, taking special care to clean the wound this time even as Soap winces. “As long as it’s kept clean and the dressing changed often, you’ll heal in no time. Hope you don’t mind my company because you’ll be seeing a lot of me for a while.”

He shakes his head, a little smile on his face. “Wouldn’t mind it a bit, G, but I can look after myself.”

“Not a chance.” My voice is firm and I make sure to stare into his eyes, placing a hand with blood smeared over my fingers on his shoulder. “That might’ve been how you did it before, but I’m your medic now. No one touches these bandages other than me. Especially not you. Understood, soldier?”

He swallows, then his smile grows as he gives me a nod. “Yes, ma’am.” I nod in return and finish wrapping the wound again while his eyelids droop. “Thanks, lass.” My hand lightly pats his shoulder before I lay his shirt over his chest while I stand.

“Sleep. Move a muscle and I’ll have you strapped to the inside of the car.” He hums his acknowledgement while I stand up and walk over to the men lingering around the back of our jeep. “He’ll be fine. It’s not too deep and didn’t hit anything that’ll cause problems later. We can move out whenever we’re ready.”

Price nods. “Let’s head out then. The sooner, the better.” He receives a chorus of acceptance from me and the others. I’m quick to pack up and slide my bag in the back along with the others before we get Soap in the jeep. Price drives, Ghost sits in the passenger seat, then Gaz and Soap sit on either side of me in the back.

“How are we doing, Soap?” I ask softly as we drive across the landscape, not exactly keeping to roads and worn paths.

He grunts with a hand braced against the wound. “Really enjoying the bumps, Cap.”

“We’ll reach a road in a few minutes. Stick it out, Johnny.” Price responds and Soap curses as he hits a particularly deep crater. My hand moves Soap’s to my knee again, holding it there as a touchstone. I’d rather not give him any more pain pills to avoid him getting drowsy, but I don’t want him incapacitated with pain. Keeping his hand there will help me know if he can handle it.

“This can’t be the worst you’ve had, Soap.” I poke a bit of fun at him and he half-smiles, scoffing.

“Not a chance. Being shot in the leg was a fucking bitch.” He shakes his head before leaning it back against the headrest. His eyes slide to mine. “What about you, G? What’s your worst?” I blink, hesitating as I consider the question. Price hits another bump and Soap hisses while Gaz tries to hide a chuckle as a cough. “You fuckin’ aiming for them, Cap?” His accent gets a bit thicker and I glance up at the rearview mirror to find Price’s eyes already on me. I shake my head slightly. Soap’s question is fine.

“Depends on what you consider worst. The most painful or the one that left me the most fucked up?” I offer and interest flashes in Soap’s eyes. I’ve got him distracted, at least. “I got shot in the left shoulder, then had to fend off an assailant in hand to hand. Worked the bullet deeper into my muscle since it wasn’t clean through. Took forever to heal and it’s a miracle I still have full movement. Couldn’t raise my arm above my shoulder for months.” The men nod or grimace, understanding and easily relating.

“Thought I was going to go stir crazy every time I’ve been put on bed rest.” Soap grumbles and I don’t bother telling him that he’s going to be on bed rest as soon as we get back to base.

“That’s because you can’t stay still for five minutes.” Gaz teases and Soap gives him a grin and a half-shrug to say he’s not wrong.

“Drives most medics crazy. Hope you’re up for it, G.” Ghost comments from the front and I look pointedly towards Soap.

“He’s not going to be difficult for me, are you, Johnny?” I ask expectantly and he shakes his head immediately. The men chuckle while I glance at Price in the mirror and fight a smile of my own. There’s a new edge in his eyes, a soft one, and I find that I like seeing it there.

Gaz shifts in place, a grin on his face as he stares at Soap. “You’ve already got him purring like a cat, G. What were in those pills you gave him?”

“Shut it, Gaz. You heard her threaten that guy in the bar. I’m trying to keep my balls where they are.” The car rumbles with laughter again, mine included, although it’s too quiet for anyone else to hear. We finally reach a dirt road and the ride becomes a fraction easier. Soap eventually falls asleep while I watch over him, my hand still on top of his where it sits on my thigh.

*     *     *

After a brief argument when we get on base, I force Soap into the med tent to stay overnight for observation. There’s a nagging feeling in my gut. I wait for him to finish taking a shower after I carefully wrapped the bandages so they wouldn’t get wet. He quirks a brow when he finds me waiting for him and I wave him into bed so I can take a look at the wound one last time before everyone turns in.

“This isn’t my first, you know.” He quips as he lets me check it again.

I give him a placating look. “After so long in the business, you learn to trust your gut. Better to be paranoid and wrong than careless and miss something that kills you.” That shuts him up promptly and my lips press together as I look at the wound. It looks a little red, almost inflamed. I replace the bandages before digging through a cabinet nearby, then come back with a bottle of water and pills. “Antibiotics, just to be safe. If there was something on the blade and it’s infected, then you’ll probably get a fever in the night. It’ll get worse from there depending on the infection.”

He takes the pills and swallows them, blinking at my words before remarking sarcastically, “Great.”

I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here. After I head to my room for a bit, I’ll come back with food and you’ll be stuck with me for the night so I can keep an eye on you.”

Amusement creeps back into his eyes as he sits up a little in bed. “They do have people here whose job it is to stay the night. I know you’re just as worn out as I am after the mission.”

I toss the bed’s blankets up over his legs with a firm look telling him to stay put. “Pretty sure I already told you that the only one touching those bandages is me.”

He hums, his smile widening a bit. “You know, I like this possessive side to you, G.”

“Uh-huh. You’ll like it even more when I zip-tie you to the bed if you don’t do everything I say.” I return sweetly and he swallows as I pat his foot, then head to the door. Surprise flits across my face as I see Price waiting for me and I walk over, stopping beside him and turning to look at Soap just like he is.

“Not being too obstinate, is he?” Price asks and he keeps his voice lower than usual while nurses file in and out of the tent while they take care of their own charges.

I heave a breath, but shake my head. “He’s been a good patient so far, but we both know restlessness settles in a little later.” He nods with the corner of his mouth lifting. I hesitate a moment before leaning a shoulder against the wall behind us and turning my body towards him. “My gut is telling me that it’s infected.”

Price turns towards me as well and his expression turns serious. He’s been in this business longer than me and he strikes me as the kind of man who doesn’t disregard his gut either. “Plan of action?”

My eyes cut to Soap idly tying knots with a lace pulled free from one of his boots. “I’m leaving him to have some time alone. We won’t know whether I’m right or not until late into the night, anyway. I’ll come back in an hour or two and keep an eye on him.”

He nods, pressing his lips together before he looks at me. “Alright. Keep me updated if he takes a turn for the worse. And don’t neglect yourself either.” Price gives me a pointed look that I respond to with a small smile. It’s getting a little easier to give those out, recently.

“Understood, Captain. I plan on spending an hour in the shower.” I get him to smile too as I salute him playfully, then head out to my room.

*     *     *

I keep my promise. Well, mostly. I spend a long time in the shower, then change into a tank-top and comfortable pants. My skin is still hot from my shower and I cool off a bit as I walk to the mess hall and get some food as promised before heading back to the med-tents. Soap shoves every morsel of food I give to him into his mouth and I shake my head while eating my own a tad slower. He crashes soon after and I take the time to set everything I might need on the small table next to the bed.

After that, the only thing to do is wait. I curl up in the chair next to him and get as comfortable as I can in the uncomfortable chair. There are one or two other nurses that mill around, but otherwise it’s quiet. Eventually, I find myself falling asleep. I’ve slept in worse places in my military career. I’m still on the cusp of sleep when I feel something settling over me. My eyes flash open and I look up in an instant to see the culprit. His hands freeze and his eyes widen as I find Ghost draping his jacket over me.

I sigh in relief and relax back into the chair, my eyes shutting a moment as my heart thunders in my chest. “Ghost.” I greet him with a scratchy voice before looking towards Soap and moving to get up. “Everything okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place.

“Everything’s fine. Just came to check on the stubborn bastard to make sure he wasn’t causin’ too much trouble.” He says quietly, his voice gruff and low. “Didn’t expect you to be here, G.”

I relax back into my chair with his jacket tucked snug around me. “I’m here for the duration. Just to make sure everything goes okay.”

His brows furrow. His usual skull mask is gone to leave only the black fabric he wears under it. It’s nice seeing more of his face even if the skin around his eyes is still painted black. “You expectin’ something to go wrong?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. A gut feeling.” My lips purse as I look at Soap, slack-jawed and snoring softly. “It could be infected. Or I could be paranoid.” I sigh again as I lean my head back against the chair and Ghost’s mask twitches.

“Either way, thanks for looking out for him.” Ghost crosses his arms and leans a hip against the end of Soap’s bed.

I raise a brow at him. “It’s my job.”

“No.” Ghost shakes his head, eyes crinkling just a touch as I think he smiles again. “This is going above and beyond your job, G. And I’m grateful. So’s everyone else on the team.” I blink as I take in the compliment and his jacket tucked around me. It’s sweet. Terribly sweet.

“I’m glad to do it, Ghost. You all have been pretty welcoming and I know I don’t come off the warmest, but I appreciate it.” Discomfort swirls in my chest at admitting it, but he took a risk thanking me. I can return the favor. “You’re my team.” It’s a claim and a promise. I’ll be loyal, dedicated, treat them like family, as long as they’re just as loyal to me.

Ghost nods, seeing this and understanding. He understands more than the others, if I had to guess. “And we’ve got you just as much as you’ve got us, G. Even if it takes a while for you to see that.” I smile as I pull his jacket a bit closer around me. I’m coming around to the idea.

*     *     *

I fall back asleep after Ghost leaves, but not for long.

Soap’s peaceful snores fade and I wake up when I hear a grunt to find him half-sitting up with his blankets tossed off. He gives me a weak smile when he sees my eyes open. “Sorry, lass. Afraid I’m not feeling great.” I lay Ghost’s jacket over the back of my chair and I’m up in an instant. My hands smooth over his cheek, then his forehead.

“Your skin is hot.” I murmur, knowing he has a fever.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Always knew I was hot.” The corner of my mouth lifts as I help him sit up a bit more and take his sweat-soaked shirt off, then wipe away the sheen covering his chest, back, and forehead.

“It’s going to be a rough night for you, Johnny, but the only way through it is straight.” I set the small towel aside before gently pushing him back down to lay on the bed. Next, I grab two other washcloths I have set aside and head over to the sink to soak them before coming back.

“You certainly don’t sugarcoat things, G.” He chuckles as I lay one cold cloth over his bare chest, then fold the other as I pat his face with it before laying it over his forehead.

“You want me to tell you pretty lies?” I ask softly, aware of the few other patients still sleeping around the room.

His head shakes. “Never said I didn’t like it, lass. Think it’s refreshing.” He takes a deep breath and I rub the cool cloth over his chest before wetting it in cool water again and returning it. “Reminds me a little of Ghost.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a little surprise in my voice, but I suppose I was just thinking that Ghost understood me more than the others. “He was here earlier to check on you. Based on what he and Price said, I expected a little more resistance from you.” I reach up and flip the washcloth on his forehead so the cool side is against his skin.

He gives me a crooked grin despite the fever, pain, and exhaustion I’m sure he’s feeling. “I’m a sucker for a gentle touch, lass. And I’m a little bit afraid of you.” I chuckle and his eyes light up a little. “Am I delirious or was that a laugh? Can’t wait to tell Gaz I got you to crack first.”

“It was barely a laugh. Hardly counts.” I tease and his eyelids get a little heavy. “Sleep if you can, Johnny. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

He hums in lieu of a laugh. “Good thing I’m not tryin’ then. In fact, think someone would have to pry you out of the team’s cold, dead hands to get you away from us now.” His eyes fall shut as he speaks and I keep gently dabbing his face with the cold washcloth. I let the words sink into me along with Ghost’s earlier, feeling them tether me to the team and the men that create it. But it doesn’t feel like a weight. It feels like a life preserver, buoying me over the waves I’ve been fighting against for a while now. Finally, I take a breath without worrying about whether I’ll take on water.

“Yeah,” I whisper, resting my hand on the cloth on his chest to feel his heart. “I’m getting pretty fond of you all too.”

Taglist (oh my gosh, hi people! Thanks for wanting to be tagged, I love you. Hope you enjoy. If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas